Chapter Text
Desmond watched as they left. Shaun and Rebecca turned around one last time and Desmond grinned at them.
If this would be the last time they would see one another, Desmond wanted their last memory of him to be a nice one.
Once he was sure they left the Temple, Desmond turned to face the device once more. He could see Juno and Minerva standing a few feet away from him, on either side of him like some sort of pretentious angel-devil duo sitting on his shoulders.
Not that either of them was an angel.
They were both devils, giving different bad advice.
And all Desmond was doing was picking the lesser evil of the two.
Desmond took a deep breath and slowly reached out his hand to the device.
He could feel the way his right hand trembled.
Yet…
He felt peace.
This was the end of his journey.
His final act as Desmond Miles.
This was to be the culmination of everything he had ever done.
Everything that…
Desmond paused and his vision start to blur.
It wasn’t just the culmination of everything that he had done.
Ratonhnhaké:ton…
Ezio…
They were both used by Juno and Minerva to push Desmond to this point.
All three of them dancing to the tune of these two women…
And Altaïr…
Altaïr didn’t even know about any of these.
It was almost like Altaïr’s part had been written before Juno and Minerva decided to play their music, only crossing with Ezio’s path thanks to the Codex and the memory seals.
Which meant…
Nothing.
It meant nothing.
In the grand scheme of things…
In what Minerva and Juno had planned…
None of them mattered.
All that mattered was that Desmond played his part.
And Desmond would.
He had no other choice.
Letting the world burn felt like a betrayal. Not to the world that he didn’t even know about nor even to the Brotherhood that he had been estranged from for far too long.
But to his ancestors.
To the three men whose lives he watched and whose memories and thoughts he wishes to honor.
And that was why Desmond was going to die.
Because it was the choice he knew his ancestors would make if they were in his place.
He rubbed his eyes with his left hand and took a deep breath. The Grand Temple rumbled all around him but he paid it no choice as he finally…
Just as his fingers were about to touch the device, he saw Minerva freeze from the corner of his eyes. Her eyes were trained behind Juno and her eyes widened before she shouted, “Desmond!”
That loud cry stopped Desmond from touching the device and Minerva briskly walked toward him. Juno followed suit and stood on Desmond’s other side as she stated, “He has made his choice, Minerva. You cannot stop this. Honor his decision.”
“Desmond, listen to me.” Minerva said as she ignored Juno, “Wait for just a minute. I’m connecting my Eye and the Eye in this temple to the device.”
There was another tremor, more severe than the last two as it almost made Desmond stumble.
“Will that keep me alive?” Desmond asked before glancing at Juno and turning to stare at Minerva, “Or keep Juno here at least?”
“Yes.” Minerve replied with a nod, “It will save you.”
“She lies!” Juno shouted and stepped closer to Desmond as she whispered, “Don’t you hear the desperation in her voice? She’s bidding her time. Making you stop until it’s too late. The Solar Flare is upon us. You must do this now or the world will burn.”
“I just need a few more seconds! It’s almost done!” Minerva shouted at Juno before turning towards Desmond, “Just a minute, Desmond. I swear that this will save you.”
“A minute is already too late!” Juno shouted back before whispering to Desmond, “You must do this now, Desmond. The Solar Flare is starting.”
“Just a few more seconds, Desmond. That’s all I ask.” Minerva pleaded and Desmond was unnerved by how Minerva was pleading to him.
The Grand Temple rumbled once more and Desmond saw a part of the ceiling collapse to their right.
Desmond shook his head.
“I can’t wait anymore, Minerva.” Desmond said, “I’m guessing that whatever is making those tremors is connected to the Solar Flare which means I have to do this now.”
Desmond gave her a weak smile as he said, “Thanks… for trying.”
Minerva’s eyes widened at those words but Desmond didn’t wait for her to say anything.
He touched the device.
And let out a blood-curdling scream as he felt the device start to burn him from the inside.
He screamed so loud that he didn’t understand whatever it was that Minerva was saying.
A moment passed.
And everything went dark.
In the darkness, there was nothing.
Desmond felt nothing.
He was numb all over.
He didn’t know how long he stayed in the darkness.
A minute?
Two days?
Five months?
Eight years?
Desmond wasn’t sure anymore.
There was nothing here.
And Desmond could slowly feel himself turn to nothingness as well.
That was when it appeared.
A golden tree sprouting from the depths of the nothingness, its golden branches stretching all over.
The darkness persisted but that only made the glow of the enormous tree brighter.
Desmond stared at the tree and saw the way the branches started to shake slightly.
Nothing else happened for a few…
Seconds?
Minutes?
Hours?
Days?
Desmond wasn’t sure.
But when the silence was finally shattered, it was the echo of his own scream that enveloped the nothingness.
The entire golden tree began to glow brighter before dimming slightly, its pure white body now appearing like kaleidoscopes showing different images.
Many of them showed Desmond as he placed his hand on the device.
One of them showed his team as they drove the truck out of they drive out of the Grand Temple.
“We have to go back!” Bill shouted and he tried to stand from the back of the truck but Rebecca grabbed his arm.
“No, Bill! It’s too late!”
The truck began to sway dangerously as Rebecca struggled to push Bill away from the back door.
“Stop it, Bill! Desmond has made his decision! You have to honor that!”
“He’s my son!”
“And he’s our friend!”
“Desmond!”
Desmond’s focus was taken by the urgency of Minerva’s voice.
One of them showed her face as she stood next to Desmond while he continued to scream, “Listen to me, Desmond. The connection is incomplete but it should be enough to save you. I can’t pinpoint the exact calculations but I’ve started it. No matter where you are, you must remember. The calculations must be-”
Minerva’s words cut off as the branch that was showing her image shuddered before it slowly became shorter and shorter.
All the other voices stopped as their own branches became shorter as well.
Desmond’s scream stopped as well.
A chorus of voices began to echo all over.
He could hear his last conversation with his teammates, about taking some time off after this was all over and relaxing somewhere for a bit.
He could hear Warren Vidic’s final words, telling him to wait as he ordered the Apple to make the armed men next to Vidic shoot him.
The gunshot rang at the same time as his hidden blade struck Daniel Cross on the nape of one of the other kaleidoscopes.
The tree continued to play his memories as it continued to shrink.
Lucy’s death.
The Sanctuary underneath Villa Auditore.
The Rome hideout.
Vidic and Abstergo’s Rome facility.
New York…
The Farm…
Desmond watched in silence as more and more of the branches began to grow smaller.
At the same time…
He watched memories of himself.
“What should we name our son?”
“Desmond…”
Desmond watched the branch with his parent’s smiling faces as it shuddered and slowly became shorter.
“You have the blood of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad in you. This is your legacy.”
Desmond watched as a young woman…
No.
His mom.
“Do not bring failure to our family. To our bloodline, hija .”
Was that his grandfather?
At the same time…
“William Miles. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things about you.”
The branches were now showing memories… of his parents.
It continued, showing snippets of memories that would stop the moment the ever-shortening branches reaches them.
More people…
His grandparents…
The more the branches shorten, the more sets of memories appeared before him.
It was like he was simply watching a badly edited long video. At some point, he could barely understand any of them, there were just too many memories being played simultaneously.
Too many ancestors…
That was when he heard her.
“ Rake’ni , we’re all here. It’s okay now. We’ll be here when you wake up.”
He was older now but Desmond recognized him immediately. It was Ratonhnhaké:ton, lying on the same bed that once belonged to Achilles.
Holding the hand of a young woman smiling at him with teary eyes.
No.
His daughter.
Desmond watched as Ratonhnhaké:ton closed his eyes, his wrinkled face etched with a peaceful smile as he whispered, “Everyone… thank you.”
Ratonhnhaké:ton took a deep breath.
And his grasp on his daughter’s hand grew limp.
Her daughter began to cry.
And soon, all of the people surrounding his bed…
Everyone who came to see him one last time…
They cried.
As Ratonhnhaké:ton continued to smile peacefully even after his death.
Desmond couldn’t help but focus on that specific branch.
Of Ratonhnhaké:ton rebuilding the Brotherhood in America while building a peaceful happy community.
A peaceful life with his family.
It stopped at an image of Ratonhnhaké:ton holding a baby with a gentle smile as the branch shorten and fused with the larger branch it had been on.
“I should have killed you long ago.”
Desmond’s heart ached as the next memories of Ratonhnhaké:ton showed his struggle to protect his village, being caught in the middle of a faction that wished for independence and an empire that wished to maintain order.
Caught in the middle of two sides with differing desires but with the same history of brutality against the people of the land they waged their war on.
Caught between two fathers.
Haytham Kenway who talked to him like an ignorant child.
Achilles Davenport who talked to him like a naive child.
And, in the end, Ratonhnhaké:ton made his choice.
Believing it would be the choice that would protect his people.
But it was not.
The memory ended just as Ratonhnhaké:ton went out of his village to play with his friends.
That fateful day…
When…
“You have shown me great kindness, Ziio.”
The next branch to shorten showed a kaleidoscope of memories from both of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s parents.
A woman who tried to protect her tribe even after being told by her own mother that she would be disobeying their desire to remain neutral.
A man shaped by the whispers of a traitor who had ordered the death of his father and the destruction of his family.
That branch shortened to another larger branch and there were too many memories now that the canopy of voices was becoming harder to focus on.
Still, he tried to keep his attention on Ratonhnhaké:ton’s kaleidoscope.
To the Kenway bloodline’s memories.
“This little rascal, however, is a Kenway. What’s wrong, Haytham?”
Desmond watched as Haytham’s kaleidoscope ended and a new set of kaleidoscope began deeper onto the golden tree.
The memories of Haytham’s father.
A privateer.
A pirate.
An Assassin.
After Desmond watched as Edward Kenway leave his wife in search of gold and glory, he couldn’t focus anymore as more and more voices joined in.
Until…
“Get some rest.”
The voice was unfamiliar.
But the language.
It was Italian.
It was the Italian that he knew.
Ezio’s Italian.
Desmond couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.
Even when there were other memories to look at.
To focus on.
All he could do was watch Ezio take his last breath as he smiled at his wife and daughter.
To watch as they rush towards him.
Ezio’s content smile was etched in his mind.
No matter how many of Ezio’s other memories were played by the many kaleidoscopes, now left with no more branches, only the main trunk was left.
Half of them were showing Ezio’s memories while Sofia’s memories were in one set of kaleidoscopes that was connected to Ezio’s memories of Constantinople.
He focused on Ezio’s memories even though the content smile on his face as he breathed his last did not leave Desmond’s mind.
The kaleidoscope stopped at Ezio’s birth as the trunk began to shrink and Desmond focused on the next set of kaleidoscopes.
Of the memories of Ezio’s father, Giovanni Auditore.
Of House Auditore.
Of Ezio’s grandfather.
His great grandfather.
More and more ancestors begin to speak until Desmond couldn’t focus anymore.
There were too many…
Simply too many for him to understand them…
It was just too-
“No, Darim! Stop!”
Laughter.
A familiar name.
There…
On the other side of the trunk, away from the Auditore bloodline…
A familiar face…
Darim.
“Come now, brother. I believe you deserve this cold water considering you got your wife pregnant. Again!”
Another man yelped as he was drenched.
Sef.
Altaïr’s sons.
He was close.
Altaïr’s memories were close.
Desmond focused on Sef’s memories, his heart aching as he saw the responsible Assassin that he was…
The mischievous boy that he had been before.
Sef’s memories stopped as a child running away from his brother and hiding behind Malik’s legs.
But his child-like laughter echoed all around the nothingness.
Then…
Desmond paid no attention to any of the other voices as he heard Altaïr…
Take his final breath.
An old man, sitting in a dark tomb of his own creation…
There was no smile.
Just a tired sigh.
Even in his final moments, his brows remained furrowed.
And Desmond felt sorrow envelop him.
He couldn’t even focus anymore.
Not even when he could still hear Altaïr’s tired sigh as his memories continue to play through the kaleidoscope.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
Knowing that Altaïr died tired, filled with remorse and guilt.
He didn’t want to hear anything anymore.
He just…
“Tell the truth! Tell them you lie about my father! Tell them you lied about my father killing himself!”
Abbas’ words cut through the haze in Desmond’s mind.
And he stared in horror as Altaïr was pinned to the ground, a blade right by his throat, as the deep cut on the right side of his lips was bleeding ferociously.
Just as Altaïr opened his lips…
The kaleidoscope cracked.
No.
The entire stump cracked.
A large crack from one end, bisecting the entire stump.
From that stump, smaller and smaller cracks began to spread out.
Almost like a mockery of the branches this stump once had.
Just as the stump looked like it was about to burst into thousands of shards…
A golden vine emerged from the kaleidoscope of Altaïr’s memory that Desmond had been focused on.
For the first time since he was in this nothingness…
Desmond felt his right hand…
As it was viciously yanked towards the stump.
Desmond let out a surprised shout as he was pulled quickly and his body crashed into the stump, finally shattering the entire thing.
The golden vine shattered as well but the force it had used to pull Desmond toward the stump meant that Desmond was still moving.
A moment later…
He hit his face with something hard and solid.
And fell back as he lost consciousness.
“Boy. Are you alright? Boy!”
Desmond gasped awake and he immediately rolled away from the voice, crouching as he used his arms to defend his face.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to harm you.”
Desmond blinked, recognizing the voice as speaking Arabic.
Altaïr’s antiquated Arabic, to be more precise.
He glanced around.
He was in some kind of narrow…
Was it an alley?
Probably.
But the buildings surrounding him…
The clothes of the woman in front of him…
Shitshitshitshit.
The woman must have mistaken his growing panic and she knelt in front of him, placing her basket filled with a few pieces of flowers on the ground to her right, “Can you not understand me? Are you a Christian?”
She spoke in some kind of mangled French that Desmond barely understood thanks to Ezio’s and Altaïr’s memories.
“Not… hurt you.”
He shook his head and took a deep breath.
He needed to focus.
He needed to be sure.
He needed…
“… why am I naked?” Desmond realized with a high squeaking voice that cracked in the middle.
“What?” The woman’s brows furrowed as she mumbled in Arabic, “Another language? I don’t know that one…”
Desmond realized that he just spoke in his version of English and shook his head.
“I can speak…” Desmond paused, hearing his high-pitched voice crack once more.
His voice was cracking.
Desmond looked at his hands.
His hands were smaller than he remembered.
He looked between his legs.
Smooth.
No hair at all.
Oh, fucking hell.
“Oh, you speak our language! That’s good!” The woman sighed in relief before getting one of her flowers. She took off the leaf from the flower and handed it to her, “Here. For the pain.”
“The pain?” Desmond asked with a frown.
She used the hand that wasn’t holding the leaf to point at her forehead as she said, “Your head. It’s red. That’s how they took your clothes, right? They pushed you to the wall and you hit your head?”
They?
Oh.
She must think he was attacked and his clothes were taken from him.
Could that be it?
No.
Desmond wasn’t sure but something inside him knew that he had been naked when he…
Time traveled…
Fucking hell. Just thinking about it was fucking insane and Desmond was so not ready for this kind of mind fuck.
But he needed to focus.
He needed to keep his attention on his current situation.
He would freak out after he was sure he was in a safe place.
A dingy alley, naked with a woman who looked like she was maybe old enough to be around William Miles' age, was definitely not the place to freak the fuck out.
“Ye-yes.” Desmond took the leaf from her and looked at it.
Was he… supposed to rub it on his forehead?
“Eat it.” The woman said gently, making Desmond look at her with an expression of both confusion and just a bit of disgust. The woman simply chuckled and urged kindly, “It won’t taste good but it will lessen your pain. I promise.”
Desmond stared at the leaf once more.
The truth was he didn’t feel any pain but it would probably look weirder if he didn’t eat it now.
Either she would think he was trying to hide his pain or she’d believe him and she’d be worried as to why he didn't feel any pain because the red mark on his forehead meant he had been hit on the head at the very least.
He was pretty sure that was the wall that he hit when he got pulled into the stump anyway.
Desmond began to chew the leaf, face scrunching when he tasted the bitter leafy taste.
The woman chuckled as she gently said, “Yes, I know, but it’ll help.”
The woman took off her cloak and offered it to him, “Here.”
Desmond took it and wrapped it around himself, giving the woman a glimpse of his body. The woman frowned as she noted, “Those wounds… you have both old and new wounds.”
Desmond froze.
He hurriedly closed the cloak but the damage had already been done.
“Did you… did you run away?”
At those words, Desmond’s eyes widened.
A young body with no hair yet.
A voice cracking at inappropriate times.
The last memory he saw of Altaïr had been during training when he was…
Holy shit.
Desmond was pretty sure he was 16 years old again.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Uh…” Desmond paused for a moment before deciding that a bit of truth was necessary, “Yes. My… my father…”
He couldn’t say it.
He couldn’t say that he had been beaten up.
Not when he knew that these bruises and marks on his body had been because of the intense training he had as a child.
He looked away as he said, “It’s… uh… he says it’s for my own good.”
From the look of horror and pity on her face, Desmond was sure he only made her believe she was right.
But he didn’t confirm nor deny that he was beaten up.
That was the important part.
As far as Desmond was concerned, he didn’t lie.
“Oh, you poor boy.” The woman stood slowly and she let out a small groan as she placed a hand on her back.
Desmond stood and was immediately by her side, placing a hand on her back as he helped her stand.
“Oh, thank you.” The woman said and, before she could bend down to grab her basket, Desmond had already grabbed it for her and handed it to her, “Such a kind boy you are.”
The woman smiled at him and asked gently, “Do you have anywhere to go to, dear?”
Desmond paused for a moment.
Should he go to Masyaf?
But that would mean Al Mualim would be there.
But…
Altaïr was there as well.
The silence made her face soften and she patted Desmond’s hand as she suggested, “How about you escort me back to my home? It’s getting late and the guards here can be vicious to people loitering after dark. I have an extra cot you can use for the night.”
“I… can’t…” Desmond said but even he heard the hesitance in his own voice, knowing he would be a fool to reject her offer considering he did need a place safe enough to think his next move (and, more importantly, freak the fuck out).
“You would be doing this lonely woman a kindness, joining her for dinner.” The woman said with a smile, “I still have my son’s old clothes. I’m sure they will fit you.”
Desmond could hear the sadness in her voice when she spoke of her son and Desmond couldn’t say no.
Not when it was clear that this woman’s son must have passed away or left her all alone.
Desmond nodded and said, “Thank you. Um…”
“Would you be so kind as to indulge me and call me setti , dear?” The woman asked and Desmond didn’t have the heart to say no.
He nodded and said, “Of course, setti .”
“And what’s your name?” The woman asked as they slowly made their way out of the alley.
“Desmond…” Desmond paused for a moment. He took a deep breath as he said, “Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.”
The kind woman’s understanding expression soothed him just a bit.
It was true.
In this place…
Here in the past…
He knew he couldn’t say he was Desmond Miles. Not when that name had too much connection to the future.
But the idea of calling himself Desmond Ibn-William sounded wrong (very, very wrong, for a long list of reasons).
And he didn’t want to use his mother’s last name.
A part of him wanted to use Auditore or even Kenway but…
Those names would mean something in the future.
And he couldn’t risk changing that.
So, in the end…
In this place, he found himself in…
He was Desmond, son of no one.
Notes:
According to my research, sett or setti is a term that can mean either ‘grandmother’ or a respectful way to call a woman/lady. If this is wrong, please let me know.
I'm back! And I bring with me not one but TWO MULTICHAPTERED ALTDES!
The other Multichaptered fic is...
Beloved Moon is the start of a new season of Yew Branches! It's AltDes and has trans!Desmond! (Please heed the warnings in the beginning before reading!)
Also, to celebrate Altaïr's birthday, I am also posting:
A short DesAlt fic that's half-PWP and half-plot set in Modern Day AU with (hopefully I got this right this time) bratty bottom!Altaïr
An Assassin's Creed x Ghost of Tsuhima oneshot set in Darim's POV (which also includes Desmond as well and written in a way that those who are not that familiar with Ghost of Tsushima might enjoy it... hopefully.)
I have a tumblr where I mostly repost AC stuff with my thoughts on the tags and maybe even fic ideas/drabbles, fic updates and... behind the scenes stuff for the fics. You can also ask me anything there or... request something lol.
Chapter Text
The woman’s home was just a simple three-minute walk through the main street but that was all Desmond needed to know to be certain of where he was.
Jerusalem.
To be more exact, the poor part of Jerusalem.
And the woman’s home was small. The center had a fire pit where the woman placed a soothed iron pot over it after putting water on it from one of the ceramic jugs near the firepit. There was a basket near it and she put a few pieces of herbs inside the pot before taking the few flowers in her basket and pulling the flowers themselves before putting them on the pot. After that, she walked towards one corner of the room where there was a small chest. She opened the chest and rummaged inside before taking out a few pieces of folded fabric.
No.
Clothes.
“Here.” The woman said as she walked towards Desmond, offering the folded clothes to him, “Don’t worry, they’re clean.”
“Thank you.” Desmond bowed slightly as he took the clothes from her. She gave him a small smile before walking back to the firepit. Seeing there was no place for him to hide, Desmond simply faced the wall and tried to put on the clothes without letting the cloak fall from his body.
He kept his eyes on the wall, looking at the worrying cracks all around it.
The clothes themselves were a little too big for him which probably mean that the woman’s son was perhaps bigger or, most probably, older than him as he wasn’t malnourished or anything. The Farm had a strict diet to ensure they would have the energy they needed for their rigorous training after all.
Desmond finally unclipped the cloak from his shoulders once he had finished putting the clothes on. He had to roll the hems of his pants and the sleeves of his shirt for a bit but, other than that, they were light, comfortable, and easy to move in.
That was enough for Desmond.
He folded the cloak and turned around, walking towards the woman. He sat on the woman’s right and placed the cloak between them as he said, “Thank you. I’ll pay you for these clothes.”
“With what money?” The woman asked as she used a wooden ladle to steer the pot. The pot smelled like herbs and flowers.
Which, Desmond supposed, was to be expected.
“Uh…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he said in an almost questioning tone, “I’ll find work somewhere in the city?”
The woman chuckled as she shook her head. She looked at Desmond with an amused smile as she commented, “I’m sure you’ll find something in the city tomorrow.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a grim smile as he asked, “You’re… not worried?”
“That you might rob me while I sleep?” The woman asked and didn’t even wait for him to reply as she said, “You’re free to try and find anything that you might be able to sell but I'm afraid you'll find nothing. It’s not that hard to get into my house. Whatever valuable I had has long been taken or sold.”
“Who took it from you?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“Desperate people trying to please their masters. Desperate people trying to survive.” The woman replied casually before grabbing two empty cups. She placed both cups in front of her and filled them with the liquid from the pot using the wooden ladle.
She placed one cup in front of Desmond and said gently, “Drink. It will keep you warm during the night.”
Desmond held the cup with his two hands, humming softly as it warmed his hands. He took a cautious sip.
It tasted like herbs and flowers.
As he expected.
It did, for some reason, reminded him of Shaun’s tea.
Which was weird because Shaun’s tea was one of those black tea flavors that sounded so pretentious.
Still…
Desmond supposed he was associating it with Shaun because of…
Well…
Everything that has happened.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” She asked gently as she took a sip of her own cup.
Desmond knew that his expression was giving him away but, at the same time, he didn’t want to try and force a mask on himself right now.
However…
“No.” He said softly before taking another sip.
That didn’t mean he was going to talk to a stranger about his situation, even if it was with someone that had been nothing but kind to him the entire time.
“That’s fine.” The woman said, her expression filled with understanding as she smiled softly at him.
With those words, Desmond relaxed.
As the night passed by in comfortable silence and gentle warmth.
Desmond wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he wanted to.
He pretended to though because he didn’t want to worry the woman who had kindly let him stay the night.
But, once he was sure that the woman was fast asleep, he quietly sat up. He folded the thin blanket she had given him and placed it by the chest. Before he left, he added another log in the fire pit to keep the fire going even just for a little bit.
With only the moon lighting his path, Desmond stepped out of the small warm home and into the cold night of Jerusalem.
A few hours later, Desmond finally took the time to relax on the top of one of the rooftops of the church in the Middle District, relaxing his back against the cross behind him.
He has no idea what the church’s name was as Abstergo’s Animus didn’t have a Shaun to add historical information to any landmark or any events that happened in the memories Desmond had relived.
Which was annoying because this meant that Desmond had no idea what was supposed to happen.
On his way to finding clothes that actually fit him and some footwear, he found papers from the Rich District (hey, if he was going to steal, he was going to steal from the rich, of course) that indicated that the year was 1181.
Which meant Altaïr was 16 years old right now.
Just like Desmond’s body.
And that…
Was a problem.
For one: Desmond has no idea what was supposed to happen during this time.
Altaïr’s memories that he had gotten from the Animus and the memory seals didn’t include this year.
And whatever memories he might have gotten from Altaïr’s bleed was…
Foggy.
Like he was looking at a piece of paper with smudged ink all over.
He knew that the Christians would lose control of the city sometime in the future and then regain it once more later on.
But when that would happen, Desmond didn’t know.
And it wasn’t just Altaïr’s memories.
Ezio’s and Ratonhnhaké:ton’s memories were also foggy.
He still remembered the big events, the ones that had an impact on them. But the small incidents? The little details in their memories?
He couldn’t remember them at all.
He couldn’t remember what flowers Ezio had given to Sofia.
He couldn’t remember the name of the tea that Ratonhnhaké:ton threw in the waters.
This meant that his Bleeding Effect was gone. That was the only reason Desmond could think of to why he felt such a disconnect with his ancestors.
At the same time…
The way he freeran across the rooftops was definitely from Ratonhnhaké:ton.
The way he climbed this church was definitely from Ezio.
And the way he instinctively knew when he should hide or not, his instincts honed to the movements around him before he even realized it…
That was definitely from Altaïr.
This meant that it was the memories that had taken a hit.
Could it be…
Could it be related to that tree?
What was even that tree?
And that darkness?
Shit.
Desmond had too many questions and no answers.
Alright.
Desmond took a deep breath.
He needed to focus.
What did he know?
The year was 1181.
He was in Jerusalem.
He was back in his 16-year-old body.
But he had all of his memories.
His Bleeding Effect was gone, no hallucinations, no whispers coming from dead men only he knew about.
But he still retained what he learned from them.
He still had their memories, although they were foggy as fuck which was annoying and not helpful.
Especially Altaïr.
Altaïr…
If Desmond was to take into consideration what happened with the golden tree, it was highly possible that he had been thrown into the past on the very same day that Abbas tried to kill Altaïr for trying to tell him the truth.
Desmond froze.
This was the day…
Altaïr got his scar…
Desmond raised his hand and touched his lips.
He could feel it.
His own scar was still fresh.
This body…
This was his body the day he got his scar.
And that very same night, he ran away from the Farm.
Was this meant to be a clue?
Some kind of connection between him and Altaïr?
Desmond wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about anything at all.
All he could be sure about was that…
Altaïr was in Masyaf right now.
So why was he in Jerusalem?
Shouldn’t he be in Masyaf as well?
…
Should he be in Masyaf at all?
Minerva’s last words before she was cut off were about the Calculations.
What if she wanted to say that Desmond must not change history?
Maybe this was the only way she could think of on how to save Desmond but…
If Desmond was to change the past…
If Desmond was to change Altaïr’s past…
Didn’t that mean that he risked the chance of screwing everything up?
Of changing the past so much that he wouldn’t exist anymore?
If he didn’t exist…
The world wouldn’t be saved in 2012.
And he wouldn’t be here right now.
Oh, fuck.
He was getting a headache.
All of this time-travel bullshit was giving him a headache.
Okay then.
New plan.
Ignore the time travel bullshit of this entire thing.
The only way to make sure the world would be saved in 2012 was to make sure that history played as it should.
For the world to follow the precursors’ chosen Calculation.
This meant that Desmond must not…
He mustn’t…
He can’t meet Altaïr.
His very existence could easily change the course of history.
His heart ached and his hands began to tremble.
He closed them into tight fists and took a deep breath.
It…
It didn’t have to be forever.
After…
After Altaïr gets the Apple, he could introdu-
No.
That wouldn’t work.
If Desmond was to tell him everything, Altaïr wouldn’t simply let history take its course.
That wasn’t the kind of man that he was.
Then… after his sons would be born?
No.
Desmond couldn’t do that.
That would mean he would be there to watch them grow up. To watch Sef grow up.
He couldn’t do that.
He knew he would get attached to the boy.
Desmond knew that, if he grew attached to Altaïr’s sons, it would be Desmond who would change history just to save Sef.
After Altaïr takes Masyaf back from Abbas then. he could… he could introduce himself.
By that point, Altaïr would understand why…
Why he did nothing as the people Altaïr cared about died…
Fuck.
Desmond groaned and shook his head.
Okay then.
Ignoring when he’d meet Altaïr then for now.
Think smaller.
What should his next step be?
Masyaf was out of the question.
Staying in Jerusalem was also out of the question.
Considering the Apple was he-
…
The Apple!
He could use the Apple and…
And what?
Try and contact Minerva? Ask her for more information?
That would be a good idea, sure, but Desmond wasn’t even sure if the Apple could talk to Minerva.
If it could, why would Minerva talk to Ezio in… the… vault…
Holy shit.
The vault!
Desmond could talk to Minerva in the vault!
For that, he needed an Apple of Eden and a Staff of Eden.
That was fine.
Desmond could do that.
He knew the location of one Apple and it was nearby.
Desmond nodded to himself.
It seemed it was time for Desmond to go underground.
Sometimes, Desmond found himself thinking that he was the world’s personal chew toy.
That was the only reason he could think of to why his ‘carefully thought out’ plan would go down the drain so quickly.
So…
Apparently… the precursor temple underneath Solomon’s Temple?
Yeah.
Desmond couldn’t find a way inside it.
As far as Desmond could see, there was no entrance to the temple underneath.
… Yet.
Desmond had no memories of how the Templars got to the temple (thanks, Altaïr’s foggy memories) but, if Desmond was to guess, it was most probably…
Through digging.
Maybe even controlled explosions?
Either way, it was something Desmond couldn’t do on his own.
And if those scaffoldings all over the temple from Altaïr’s memories were any indications, it wasn’t like he could just bomb his way into the temple.
Which meant that he needed to wait for the Templars to excavate the temple.
But that would be too late.
His plan was to get the Apple to give him the locations of other Apples (maybe even Ezio’s Apple or he’d take George Washington’s Apple at this point) and Staffs. Then he’d leave the Apple there and go find his own Apple and Staff.
Altaïr’s Apple needed to stay in Jerusalem, after all.
Also, this way, he’d be too busy traveling and looking for an Apple and a Staff he could use to get to Minerva to accidentally screw up Altaïr’s past.
He meant future.
Ugh, time travel.
Okay then.
So he was back to square one.
It would be too risky to get the Apple once the Templars started their excavations.
Especially since he didn’t know how long it would be before Altaïr came to get the Apple.
Then…
Should he try to get the info from the Apple after Al Mualim received it?
It would be risky but…
If he was an Assassin…
It shouldn’t be too hard to find an opening to get the Apple and ask for those locations.
If it was?
He could make a distraction.
He could still remember Masyaf, the same way he could still remember Monteriggioni and Davenport Homestead.
There were many places where Desmond could make a big enough distraction to divert Al Mualim’s attention for a few hours.
So…
Did that mean he should go to Masyaf then?
Desmond bit his bottom lip.
No.
He can’t.
He was sure…
He was absolutely sure that if he was to see Altaïr…
He wouldn’t be able to help himself.
The desire to see Altaïr was too much.
Even if Desmond knew he should stay away from Altaïr.
If he was in Masyaf…
If he was to see Altaïr as he was right now, full of sorrow and hurting from Abbas’ actions…
Desmond knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away.
So where did that leave him?
How could he stay incognito for the next ten years?
Should he travel for now?
Return here once he was sure that the Apple was in Masyaf?
No.
It was too risky.
Too many unknown factors to consider.
He had no guarantee he could be in Masyaf in time.
Not when it only took Altaïr three months to kill all his targets.
So he should stay close.
Close enough that he can travel to Masyaf anytime he wanted.
But not close enough that he could accidentally change anything.
So he couldn’t stay in Jerusalem, Acre, or Damascus.
Those three cities would be Altaïr’s hunting grounds.
His very presence could change that.
Especially since he didn’t know how he would glow in Altaïr’s Eagle Vision.
He knew he shouldn’t glow red.
But what if he glowed blue?
That would be suspicious as well.
Okay then.
Somewhere close…
But not in Altaïr’s hunting grounds…
Then… he should probably not be close to those cities as well, just to be sure.
Cyprus?
No.
He needed a boat to travel back here just for that. A boat would be too risky.
Horses would be more reliable in this case.
So a place where he could travel by land to get to Masyaf.
Wait.
A place that he could travel by land to get to Masyaf…
A place that wasn’t close to Masyaf or to any of Altaïr’s hunting grounds…
And a place that would grant him access to Masyaf.
Desmond’s eyes widened.
Alamut.
He could go to Alamut.
The Persian Assassins still held that as their headquarters and, if Altaïr’s memories were correct, they also have their own recruits that they train there.
Sure, it was apparently in dire need of repairs and guidance but Al Mualim didn’t do anything about that. He was too busy with Masyaf.
As far as Altaïr’s memories were concerned, Alamut was less of an Assassin stronghold and was more of a relic of the past.
There were supposed to be more soldiers there than Assassins which reminded Desmond more of Monteriggioni and Uncle Mario’s mercenaries.
He could go there and ask to be inducted into the Brotherhood.
Altaïr’s memories of seeing an Alamut Assassin had always been a squad of Assassins visiting Masyaf to give the reports.
It could work.
He could become an Alamut Assassin, keep an eye on Masyaf and Altaïr through the grapevine (surely they gossip about Masyaf there) then join the squad that gives monthly reports during the time that the Apple would be in Masyaf.
Yes.
That could work.
Desmond took a deep breath and look at the sky.
The sun was only starting to rise.
He had time to prepare.
And… to say goodbye.
“Oh, Desmond. Welcome back.” The woman smiled when Desmond returned to her small home. She blinked when she noticed that he was wearing different, much more fitting clothes.
“Ah. I see you found something indeed.” The woman said with a smile.
Desmond grinned at her and handed her back the clothes he borrowed, making sure they were properly folded, “Here. Thanks, for letting me stay the night.”
The woman stared at the clothes before shaking her head. She smiled gently at Desmond as she said, “Keep them.”
“But…”
“I will not wear them.” She said gently, “But you… you’re still a growing boy. Perhaps, when you’ve become a man, you will find a use for them.”
Desmond paused for a moment before nodding. He gently placed the clothes back into the small sack he now had and said, “Thank you. I’ll be sure to use them when…”
Desmond’s lips curved to a sardonic smile as he continued with his cracking voice, “I grow up…”
“So… you will be leaving soon?” The woman asked curiously.
“Yeah.” Desmond nodded. He paused for a moment, wondering if he should say where he was going. It wasn’t worth the risk. Considering how prominent the Masyaf's Assassins were thanks to Al Mualim, there was a possibility that she knew about Alamut as well. He rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “I’m leaving the city. Going… east…”
“Will it be a long journey?” She asked and Desmond could see the worry on her face.
“Yeah. A bit.” Desmond replied vaguely.
“Do you have any medicine with you?”
“Uuuhhh…”
She tutted and walked towards the chest. She opened and rummaged for a bit before taking out a small bag. She offered it to Desmond as she said, “Here. They’re dry leaves. If you get hurt, eat two. That should lessen the pain.”
Desmond stared at the bag as he took it from her before raising his head to ask, “Are you… a doctor?”
She laughed and shook her head, “No. I’m a mother blessed with an energetic son.”
Her smile fell as she corrected, “I mean… I was…”
His face softened and he said, “Thank you… setti . I’ll be sure to use them.”
“Safe travels, Desmond.”
Desmond nodded and turned around. He began to walk away.
As he stepped out of her home, he remembered.
He didn’t know when…
But Jerusalem would be taken by the Saracens.
Then retaken by the Crusaders.
… This might be the last time he would see the first person to ever be kind to him in this new ‘life’ of his.
Desmond turned around and walked back into the home.
“ Setti …” Desmond stared at her as he asked, “Would you like to come with me?”
Chapter Text
The road to Alamut was a peaceful uneventful one. Traveling alone was a bit lonely but Desmond was used to it.
He had been living a lonely life since he left the Farm after all.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of frustration over the fact that he could not convince the kind woman who helped him in Jerusalem to come with him.
Then again, Desmond didn’t really have a plan on what he should and should not tell her if she did come.
To be completely honest, Desmond didn’t even know why he had offered it in the first place. It had been an impulsive decision and he knew it had more to do with the fact that she had been kind to him and he was, at this moment, in a foreign place.
There was also the fact that a part of him knew that she was going to die if she stayed in Jerusalem and Desmond had wanted to do something about it.
He wasn’t trying to save everybody.
He already did that.
He just…
He saw someone he could help so he did.
That was different.
Or so Desmond believed.
Maybe that was why he had given her a letter and told her to give it to the person behind the desk of a building that she knew was a shop that wrote letters and maps for people who were willing to pay for them.
To Desmond, he knew it as the Assassin bureau in Jerusalem.
He had a foggy idea of who the Rafiq of Jerusalem had been before Malik but he was sure it was someone as old as Jabal. He could still remember Altaïr’s irritation over how slow that Rafiq was whenever he had to move due to his age.
Hopefully, the Rafiq wouldn’t mind doing an unknown ‘brother’ a favor to the woman who helped him.
He might have embellished his story of being attacked by guards and that the woman did not know about his allegiance or the Creed but he hoped that his begging for the Rafiq to take the woman in as some kind of favor will…
Well…
Save her life.
It was the best Desmond could do, considering she didn’t want to join him.
He might have also tipped his hand a bit by asking her not to tell the man what he looked like but…
It was better safe than sorry.
No need for the Rafiq of Jerusalem to report to Al Mualim about it. Hopefully, his begging to ‘please do not report this to Al Mualim, I’m begging you, I’ll do better, I promise’ would make it sound like he was some poor panicking novice and not…
Whatever Desmond was at the moment.
This did mean that Desmond needed an identity.
A story to tell the Assassins of Alamut.
So…
Who was Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad?
Desmond wished he had gone to Masyaf.
He wished he had gone to Masyaf so he could rush Altaïr and dropkick him.
‘In dire need of repairs and guidance?’
The fortified castle and its patrols were definitely not in need of repairs and guidance.
To be completely honest…
Desmond’s Eagle Vision was telling him that Alamut might even be more fortified than Masyaf itself.
Which was confusing at first because, on a first glance, yes, Alamut looked like it was in need of repairs. Some of the parts of the castle had scaffoldings and ropes and…
Things that made it easy to freerun on the walls.
And the patrols?
Desmond easily saw the guards as he walked through the front gate. He talked to one of them and gave them his ‘cover story’.
Orphaned, hoping for a job and a place to live, the usual deal.
But it was during the time he was talking to the guard who easily let him in after he turned the conversation around and began to ask if he knew anybody who needed an assistant (“Please, sir, I’m a quick learner and I don’t mind working all day”), he felt it.
Eyes trained on him.
A quick glance in front of him confirmed his suspicion.
There was a man in light gray robes, face hidden by a hood, playing some kind of board game with an older man on a bench next to a building.
His eyes were trained on Desmond.
Desmond was sure the man didn’t see that Desmond had noticed him but he was sure.
That man had been an Assassin.
And that single glance gave Desmond more information.
In that main street that the gates lead to, he could see at least three more Assassins, blending in the crowd.
One of them was even manning a fruit stall which was… well, a bit weird.
By the time Ratonhnhaké:ton was an Assassin, his Brotherhood had already been decimated, leaving only Achilles behind and everyone in the homestead knew him by sight.
Ezio’s Italian Brotherhood, on the other hand, preferred to stay on the roofs and shadows but that was because they were not meant to be seen at all.
Altaïr’s Levantine Brotherhood made their presence known in Masyaf as they were also Masyaf’s protectors and Al Mualim was Masyaf’s ruler.
But the Assassins he saw as he walked the lower town of the castle were blending into the crowds in a way more reminiscent of Assassins in cities, looking for information or on their way to their target.
Some even wore their hoods down, appearing like normal townspeople.
Had it not been for their missing ring finger, Desmond would have doubted himself just a bit.
There were guards patrolling as well but they weren’t missing their ring finger even though they did bear the Assassin insignia on their armor.
Which, to be completely honest, weirded Desmond the most.
An Assassin… wearing heavy armor?
That seemed like a contradiction all by itself.
Desmond needed more information.
Desmond needed to know why there was such a huge discrepancy between what Altaïr’s memories were telling him about Alamut and what he was seeing in the lower town alone.
Because, as far as Desmond could see…
Alamut wasn’t in dire need of repair or guidance at all.
If anything…
Alamut seemed more like what an Assassin headquarters should look like than Masyaf.
Desmond needed more information but he also needed to not look suspicious as fuck. Especially now that he knew that he was being watched by Assassins who were blending into the crowd.
He had to make sure that he didn’t look like he noticed them at all.
So…
He approached the Assassin who had a fruit stall.
For a brief moment, Desmond wondered if pretending to steal something would be a good idea.
It would get the Assassins’ attention, that was for sure.
If the guards tried to catch him, he was sure he could shake them off.
But…
The lower town wasn’t that big and, if this town was anything like the village below Masyaf, the people here would know each other.
Hell, he remembered how some of the older villagers in Masyaf liked to remind Altaïr of how cute he was as a child.
Desmond didn’t want to get into the town’s shit list this early on.
Not when the plan was to become an Assassin here in Alamut.
… For now, anyway.
“You buying, boy?” The vendor (the Assassin) asked with a grin and Desmond was wary of that grin.
It was clear that it didn’t reach his eyes.
“What’s the cheapest?” Desmond asked with a frown as he stared at the fruits on display.
“Cheapest? A boy like you need all the food you can get. Build up your muscles while you’re growing up, see?” The vendor made his sales speech, even going as far as flexing his right arm and patting his muscles with his left.
That only gave Desmond a glimpse of his missing middle finger and the gauntlet of his hidden blade. It was usually hidden by the long sleeves of his light gray thobe but Desmond noticed how it looked… gaudier.
The blade’s sheath had an almost bronze-like color, contrasting the metallic cover of a Masyaf Assassin’s hidden blade.
Desmond was pretty sure he was being too harsh and his favoritism was showing but, still, Alamut felt like it had been created solely to confuse what Desmond knew to be true.
If Altaïr’s memories of Alamut were false then could he even believe in any of his other memories?
But that topic was for another long sitting-on-some-high-place-and-freak-out time. Right now, he needed to focus on gathering as much information as he could while trying to not get in trouble.
“Thanks but I probably don’t have enough to buy as much as I should,” Desmond said, even though his secret coin pouch would disagree with him.
Still, he needed to play the part of an orphan trying his luck in a new place, and throwing money around would only hurt that image.
“I see.” An understanding look appeared on the Assassin’s face and he placed both of his hands on his waist, “Then you must be looking for work?”
“And a place to sleep hopefully.” Desmond added before randomly picking one of the fruits, “Do you happen to know if anyone needs another pair of hands?”
The Assassin hummed, rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. He saw the Assassin’s point finger tap against his lower jaw twice while he was rubbing his chin quickly and, if that wasn’t a freaking secret hand signal then Desmond was going to eat this fruit with its skin on.
A moment later, the Assassin said, “I believe our doctor might need an errand boy? Someone to get him his ingredients and deliver medicine all over town.”
“That sounds great!” Desmond made sure to look relieved.
Which he was.
A delivery boy would give him an excuse to check the entire lower town while he’s unsure if he should proceed with his plan to be an Assassin here in Alamut. Not to mention, it was an easy excuse if the people found him where he shouldn’t be. All he had to do was tell people he was new and he got lost or something.
He rolled the fruit in his hand as he asked, “Where can I find the doctor?”
The Assassin’s lips curved into a smile and Desmond was immediately wary.
“The castle.”
Of course, there was a fucking punchline.
It was a trap.
Of course, it was a fucking trap.
There was no other reason why an Assassin would suggest he freaking go to the castle, the main headquarters of the Assassins, just to get a freaking interview with some doctor.
Although…
It was a good chance for him to check the castle itself.
Alamut was constructed similarly to Masyaf.
Or perhaps it would be more accurate that Masyaf was similar to Alamut.
The main castle was stationed behind the castle town with another large gate separating it from the small walled town. From his high vantage point, he could see that the castle itself was on the very top and the only road leading to it circled around the mound that it was on. From what he could see, the castle itself seemed to be composed of three large towers on its left, right, and back while the castle palace was in the middle. He couldn’t see the back of the palace from where he was right now but, if it was anything like Masyaf, it might have a large courtyard as well.
Desmond hoped they didn’t call it Paradise as well.
Desmond shuddered at the reminder of Al Mualim’s questionable taste and sighed.
Well.
It wasn’t like he had any other ideas.
At least, this way, he had an excuse to poke around the castle.
Maybe that would even give him an idea as to…
Whatever the hell was happening here in Alamut.
But first…
Desmond needed to finish the random fruit he bought from the Assassin.
Desmond stared at the many seeds he was now looking at.
Now was not the right time to be reminded of how messy it was to eat a pomegranate without any bowl in hand.
He tried to look presentable.
In a sense that he found the town’s well and scooped a bucket so he could clean his hands and face.
That was as far as he could go without stripping and taking a bath in the middle of the town square and he was sure that someone would call the guards on him if he did that.
He did change his clothes so it wouldn’t look like they just spent days on the road in a dark alley though, so he had that going for him.
And, before he left the lower town, he checked on his horse just to be sure there was no funny business happening on the stables.
With that done, he made his way toward the gates separating the castle grounds from the lower town.
The guards by the gates were more scrutinizing of him.
Until he told them that he heard from the nice fruit vendor that the castle doctor might be looking for an errand boy.
That got them immediately opening the gates for him and one of them even gave him clear directions on where the doctor was.
“The tower to the left, not the right” was repeated too many times that Desmond was now curious about what the tower to the right had.
It did give him an idea of who these guards were.
… They were recruits.
To be more exact, Assassins who most probably finished their training but have not yet been inducted into the Brotherhood.
Which was strange on its own considering novices were stationed as guards in Masyaf as well but they were already inducted into the Brotherhood by then.
More discrepancy between Alamut and Masyaf which was strange because, as far as Altaïr’s memories were concerned, they were supposed to be in the same Brotherhood.
The road to the castle was a long winding path and Desmond could feel eyes following his every move. He pretended not to notice it and tried to think about how he should play it.
Eh.
He’ll play it by ear.
If his copy of Altaïr’s memories were corporeal, he would be strangling it now.
In dire need of repairs his ass.
The castle grounds were larger than Masyaf and it was clear that it was cared for regularly. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had recruits sweeping the floors every day.
Not only that, but many people were walking around the castle grounds.
Scholars.
A lot of scholars.
Desmond was thankful for his paranoia because it was now keeping him alert enough to notice the Assassins blending into the groups of scholars walking everywhere.
He wasn’t sure if they were patrolling, escorting the scholars, or actually part of their group and, at this point, Desmond had enough of the discrepancy between his image of what Alamut should be and the Alamut he was seeing right now that he was just…
Chill.
He had ascended from ‘what the hell is happening’ to ‘oh, okay then’.
Once he had time for himself, he’ll think about all these discrepancies and try to figure out why Altaïr’s memories of Alamut were so different from what he was seeing.
Right now, he made his way toward the left tower although he noticed the scholars were primarily walking from the palace and the right tower. The left and back towers were mostly left alone.
When Desmond stood by the entrance of the left tower, the two guards stared at him quietly.
They were much older than the guards he had seen.
And those eyes…
The way they stood…
The light armor they were wearing…
And the missing left ring fingers…
These weren’t recruits.
“Hi.” Desmond smiled at them with what seemed to be a fusion of Ezio’s charming smile and his own practiced smile that he used as a bartender, “I’m here to see the town doctor? The guards by the gates told me he would be on this tower?”
The two guards…
No.
The two Assassins didn’t look at one another.
Instead, one of them spoke directly to Desmond, “Why here?”
“Uh…” Desmond tilted his head, wondering about the specific wording of that question. There was no need to lie, not when he was sure the Assassin pretending to be a food vendor would be reporting his conversation with Desmond anyway, “The fruit vendor told me he needs an errand boy?”
At those words, the other Assassin let out a small hum. Both Assassins stared Desmond down and, had he not known it would be stupid to say it, he would have joked that they were checking him out.
Desmond did fidget a bit because getting stared down by two veteran Assassins was nerve-racking.
The guard to the right nodded and said, “The doctor is on the top floor.”
The guard to the left opened the door to the tower and said, “We will accompany you.”
“Uh… okay?” Desmond said. The first guard walked inside the tower and Desmond turned to look at the guard still standing next to the now-opened door. When that guard simply nodded at him, Desmond took that as a silent order to follow the first guard. Once he entered the tower, the second guard finally left his post and began to walk behind Desmond.
Ah.
Well, this was not good for Desmond’s paranoia.
Still, it would look weird if he was to ask the second guard to at least walk next to him. That would only make the guards ask why.
Instead, Desmond stepped slightly to the side and turned his head just a bit.
It shouldn’t be that obvious and it made sure that he could see the second guard in his peripheral vision.
They ascended the stairs, ignoring all other floors.
Desmond did notice that one of the floors had recruits scrubbing the floors.
Good to know that Alamut and Masyaf still had similarities.
Like using recruits as free servants.
When they reached the foot of the final set of stairs, the guard in front stopped and turned to face Desmond.
“Wait here.” The guard said before ascending the stairs, leaving Desmond with the other guard.
A second after the guard reached the end of the stairs, Desmond turned to face the other guard and asked, “Soooo… any advice?”
“On?” The guard asked in a monotone voice.
“On how to get the job?” Desmond asked, “Like… how to get the doctor to like me enough to hire me?”
The guard stared at him for a moment before dryly saying, “Don’t lie…”
“I’m not-”
“And don’t seduce him.”
Desmond stared at him for a moment before finally saying with a confused expression on his face, “I’m sorry, what?”
Before the guard could answer him (if he was even going to answer him), the first guard returned and stood in front of Desmond. He nodded as he said, “The doctor will see you now.”
Desmond ignored that small part of him that wanted to make a corny joke about how he wasn’t a patient.
He was sure these two guards wouldn’t appreciate it,
“Thanks.” Desmond simply smiled at them and ascended the stairs.
Once he reached the end of the stairs, his eyes widened.
Instead of a door, it was a large open room with open windows all around, all of them large enough that anyone could walk out of them and take a leap.
It took a moment before Desmond could even comprehend the room he was in.
An aviary.
But not like the small aviary Al Mualim had for the messenger pigeons Masyaf kept.
No.
All the birds he could see, perching on the many wooden beams all around the aviary were…
Eagles.
“I hear you wish to be my errand boy?”
Desmond turned to where the voice came from. On his right, feeding a large brown eagle perched on his arm, was a man, perhaps around his mid-to-late thirties. He stared at Desmond with a curious expression on his face, “Hello. I’m Alamut’s doctor.”
“But you may call me Diya al-Dīn.”
Notes:
For those who wanted setti to come with Desmond, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t the last time we’ll be seeing setti though. I have plans for her. :)
Chapter Text
“And what’s your name, child?” Diya al-Dīn asked curiously as he lifted his arm a bit. The eagle perched on his arm flapped its wings, slowly rising from Diya al-Dīn’s arm. Once the older man lowered his arm, the eagle flew out of the tower, letting out a cry as it began to circle the tower. Some of the eagles follow after it, letting out a cry of their own.
Feathers fell upon them as more and more eagles took flight until the only eagles left seemed to be the ones guarding the nests at the topmost beam ceilings.
Desmond patted his head, letting the feathers that fell on his hair fall as he said, “Desmond… Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.”
“Hmmm…” Diya al-Dīn stared at him for a moment before walking towards him. Desmond kept patting his hair, trying to appear relaxed even though his entire body was ready to leap off this tower if necessary. There was white paint all over the edges which probably meant that this tower was being used to perform leaps of faith.
White paint was seen all over Masyaf as well to quickly remind the Assassins that they could leap off from that specific edge.
He was hoping Alamut held the same principle.
Diya al-Dīn raised his right hand slowly and Desmond took a step back, staring at his right hand warily. His right hand stopped right by Desmond’s face and Desmond followed it as it moved to the left.
A few moments passed and Desmond followed the hand as it moved to the right.
Diya al-Dīn hummed once more as he moved his right hand back to Desmond’s front. As he lowered his right hand, he noted, “You don’t look sickly nor are your bones visible through your cheeks. You’ve been eating well enough.”
Desmond blinked.
When did he…
Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized that Diya al-Dīn must have been checking his face, using his hand to make Desmond turn his head to the sides.
Diya al-Dīn rubbed his chin as he noted, “Your complexion is quite lighter than most of the people in this land but you are also definitely darker than those Christians.”
“A mix then?” Diya al-Dīn asked with a slight tilt of his head.
“Uh… yeah…” Desmond took a wary step back as he explained, “I have a colorful family background…”
“Yet you say you are the son of no one.” Diya al-Dīn noted.
“My da… My father and I…” Desmond shrugged as he vaguely said, “We disagreed on a lot of things.”
“Yet you do not take your mother’s name instead?” Diya al-Dīn pressed, making Desmond’s lips curl into a slight frown. Diya al-Dīn hummed once more before he said, “She sided with your father then?”
“Or…” Diya al-Dīn tilted his head once more as he added, “Perhaps it would be more accurate that she did not side with you?”
Desmond had never been to therapy before but if this was what it was like to have a therapist dissecting him then he was glad he never tried it.
“A little of both, I guess?” Desmond replied.
Diya al-Dīn hummed once more and began to circle around Desmond as he noted, “You do not lie which I am grateful for but…”
He stopped right in front of Desmond’s blindside and Desmond felt the warm air coming from his mouth hit his neck as he whispered, “You also do not say the entire truth.”
Desmond’s body moved on his own, swiping his right arm as he turned around. Diya al-Dīn took a few steps back to evade his wide arching swing while Desmond took a few steps back as he faced him. The older man kept both of his hands behind him as he noted, “Good reflexes.”
His eyes flickered down then returned to stare at Desmond’s face once more as he said, “Good form. I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with your stance. Learned from your father then? Soldier perhaps?”
“A knight?” He added, making Desmond snort at the very idea of William Miles being a knight.
That he would be a Templar.
“Not a knight then.” Diya al-Dīn noted after seeing Desmond’s reaction, “But you do not hold them in high regard as well. Good.”
Desmond frowned at that.
“Very well, Desmond, son of no one. You’re hired.” He said as he began to walk down the stairs, “Follow me.”
Desmond blinked for a moment before quickly following him as he asked in a surprised tone, “Wait, really?”
“Yes, doctor.” The older of the guards waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs repeated in a monotone voice, “Really?”
“Alamut welcomes those who seek us and those who find us.” Diya al-Dīn turned to smile at Desmond as he said, “And I am curious of which one you would be, Desmond, son of no one.”
Desmond frowned, wondering if Diya al-Dīn was planning to call him that way every time.
Desmond followed Diya al-Dīn as he walked down the stairs while both guards walked behind Desmond.
Again… not a good thing for Desmond’s paranoia so he walked slower, until he was between the two guards.
The two guards glanced at him but didn’t say anything and Desmond hoped his expression was more of ‘this doctor is weirding me out’ than ‘I can stop you both if you’re on my sides’.
Diya al-Dīn stopped two floors below the top of the tower and opened the first door to the stairs' right, “This is an empty room you can use.”
Desmond noticed the two guards froze for a brief moment which was curious.
Until…
Desmond went inside the room.
It was big.
He was pretty sure this entire room took up half this level. It was bare of any furniture or decoration but that only made it clear just how large the room was.
“Uh…” Desmond turned to stare at Diya al-Dīn with wide eyes.
“Not used to having such a big room then.” Diya al-Dīn noted with a smile.
Oh, this asshole.
“No, not really,” Desmond said, although he could feel annoyance already building up. He took a deep breath to calm himself before asking, “So? Where’s the real room I can stay in?”
Diya al-Dīn waved his hand towards Desmond which Desmond assumed meant he was pointing at the room.
“Haha, yes, I’m not used to such extravagance.” Desmond dryly stated before saying, “Joke’s over, Diya al-Dīn.”
Both guards glared at him but Diya al-Dīn simply smiled once more, “Your mastery of our native tongue is interesting. And your accent…”
“al-Sham?” Diya al-Dīn asked, making the guards behind him and Desmond freeze. His smile grew as he said, “I got it right then? Interesting…”
“I didn’t grow up in al-Sham,” Desmond said seriously.
It would be bad if the Assassins here think he was from al-Sham, a common name around these parts for Syria in general. More specifically...
From Masyaf.
They might ask Al Mualim about him.
“Another half-truth.” Diya al-Dīn noted as he tilted his head, “But a curious truth nonetheless. So you were not raised in al-Sham but you have a reason why you speak like one who was born and raised in those parts.”
“Your parents then?” Diya al-Dīn pressed, “One of them was raised there?”
Desmond kept quiet.
“Ah…” Diya al-Dīn walked around Desmond as he said, “Your silence speaks more than any half-truths you might say.”
“My mom… my mother calls them fae lies,” Desmond said.
As expected, Diya al-Dīn took the bait, “Fae lies?”
“It’s…” Desmond paused, unsure how to explain what a fae was. His next words were a bit uncertain, “They’re these non-human entities that usually have these powers and play tricks on people? Uuuhh… There’s a lot of versions of them and some of them are nice but others aren’t and…”
Desmond sighed and rubbed his neck as he gave up, “We call it fae lies because the fae can’t lie. Not outright, anyway. So they use misleading words and half-truths to…”
It took a moment for Desmond to remember the word he wanted to use and, at that time, he had his point finger pointing down in front of him and his finger was continuously drawing a circle, “Circumvent their ‘no-lying’ rule.”
Diya al-Dīn stared at his finger for a moment before noting, “You know more than one language.”
Desmond froze once more.
Diya al-Dīn tilted his head as he continued, “And our language is not your first yet you are fluent enough that you can pass off as a native. I suppose that would make sense with your ‘colorful family background’. And this fae of yours must come from far away.”
Before Desmond could say anything, Diya al-Dīn turned around and began to walk out of the room, “Come. I will introduce you to Alamut.”
Desmond stared at his back for a moment before following him.
It wasn’t like he had any other choice anyway.
The impromptu tour lasted for hours. By the end of it, Desmond was sure Diya al-Dīn had more information about him than he wanted the curious doctor to have.
On the plus side, Desmond now had an idea of the castle’s layout which was nice. The tower to the left where he met Diya al-Dīn also had Diya al-Dīn’s office on the third floor and that was where Desmond was supposed to meet him tomorrow morning (“once you are ready” had been the doctor’s vague instruction on when Desmond was supposed to arrive in his office). There was a closed door at the back of his office and Desmond was pretty sure that was Diya al-Dīn’s personal quarters.
The many books and papers littered all over the desk in the middle coupled with the bottles and plants on the table on the left wall next to a bubbling pot were clear indications that the doctor was a busy man and, if Desmond had to bet, he was probably the type to work until late at night.
Those glass lamps were a dead giveaway.
Other than the office on the third floor, the first floor had a back door that led to a small garden that Desmond was pretty sure was filled with medicinal plants and herbs. It also gave him a chance to see the back of the palace and, it was as he expected, a huge courtyard filled with water and flowering plants.
He didn’t see any Flowers though and he hoped that meant that there weren’t any almost naked women here as well.
The very idea of Paradise back in Masyaf had made Desmond uncomfortable.
The right tower, on the other hand, had to be a scholar’s paradise. Each floor was filled with books. Some of the levels even had what seemed to be apparatuses that reminded Desmond of a science lab.
A very antiquated science lab.
Diya al-Dīn also introduced him to some of the scholars who looked like they were in charge of each floor and all of them greeted him with respect.
Desmond supposed that was to be expected, considering Diya al-Dīn was the castle doctor. It wasn’t surprising for him to have the respect of the people of Alamut.
Touring the palace, on the other hand, was interesting. The main floor had a large dining hall that could easily fit an entire army and they took the time to eat dinner there. Dinner was a simple affair with roasted chicken that was a bit charred and rice cooked with herbs and spices that were common around these parts. All four of them ate quietly and Desmond was glad that Diya al-Dīn didn’t ask any questions.
It was only after dinner that he said, “You did not pray before eating. Not religious then.”
And Desmond was so tempted to hit him with his sack.
The other floors in the palace seemed to be for private living quarters. Considering how he saw many scholars in the palace, Desmond was sure that many of those rooms were for the scholars in Alamut.
This meant that the tower at the back that Diya al-Dīn didn’t include in their tour, the tower with many scaffoldings and looked like it was in need of repairs…
That was where most of the Assassins in Alamut were.
By the end of the tour, Diya al-Dīn and the two guards escorted him back to the same large room two floors below the aviary. Desmond stared at Diya al-Dīn warily who simply smiled as he said, “Good night, Desmond, son of no one. We will see you tomorrow.”
Desmond blinked.
“I wasn’t joking.” He waved his hand at the large room Desmond was standing in, “This is yours to use as you like. I even had them bring you a cot.”
Desmond glanced at the single addition to the room that wasn’t there before.
A single cot that had been placed on the right side of the room.
“I’m interested to see how you will fare here in Alamut.” Diya al-Dīn said before saying once more, “I will see you tomorrow then.”
Desmond kept quiet, watching as the two guards stepped out of the room. Diya al-Dīn began to walk out as well but stopped when he reached the doorway.
“We have something similar to a fae as well.” Diya al-Dīn said as he stepped out of the room and then turned around. As he start to close the door, he stared at Desmond with a curious look on his face as he explained, “Those who mean harm, we call them djinns. Those who mean good, we call them peri.”
Just as the door closed, Desmond heard Diya al-Dīn wonder out loud, “I wonder what kind of fae you are, Desmond, son of no one.”
The first thing Desmond did was to grab the cot and drag it near the open window.
The second thing Desmond did was look out of the window.
The third thing Desmond did was to activate his Eagle Vision.
And Alamut was washed in a sea of gray.
He blinked when he noticed that there were a lot of whites already glowing in the castle. And the figure a few floors below him was the one glowing brightest of all.
Diya al-Dīn.
Desmond was unsure what to think of the man.
He couldn’t sense any hostility from him. None of the people he met in Alamut today actually felt like they were hostile at all.
The most he got from them was wariness and Desmond couldn’t fault them on that one. He did just appear out of nowhere to ask for a job.
Anyone would be wary.
Especially someone who looked like Desmond.
Still, he was expecting some kind of hostility.
Maybe even someone trying to get him to say the truth.
But no one did.
Which was strange.
But also reminded Desmond of how Ezio trained his recruits to observe first.
It was probably safe to say that Desmond was in a similar position.
The Assassins he did notice didn’t approach him but he could feel their eyes trained on him.
They were watching him.
Which meant that they were probably surveying him right now.
He looked around.
There were a few whites on the castle grounds. He could see many whites on the tower at the back.
Many places for them to observe the tower he was in right now. It would be risky to try and sneak out.
So Desmond didn’t.
Instead, he walked out of his room, went down the flight of stairs, and left through the front door.
Before he reached the door, he blinked and deactivated his Eagle Vision. He knew that his eyes glowed gold whenever he used it and it would be a dead giveaway if anyone see him use it here.
Especially since he was wearing clothes that didn’t have any hoods on.
Two new guards were guarding the door this time and, if Desmond had to guess, the other two white forms with Diya al-Dīn were probably the guards who joined the impromptu tour.
Maybe they were now guarding Diya al-Dīn to make sure that Desmond didn’t try to ambush the doctor in his office.
He turned to face both guards as he said with a sheepish grin, “Hey. Uh… my name’s Desmond. I’m Diya al-Dīn’s… new errand boy…”
The guards looked at one another and Desmond took that time to look them over.
Missing left ring finger.
Light armor.
Yup. Assassins pretending to be guards.
“We’ve heard.” One of the guards said to Desmond and nodded, “Welcome to Alamut.”
“Thanks.” Desmond’s grin became more natural and he asked, “So… uuuhh… I’ve been on the road for a while now so I was wondering if there’s anywhere I can… wash up? Like a well or something?”
The guards looked at one another once more before one of them said, “There is a thermae to the right of the courtyard.”
Desmond stared at them for a moment before he asked, “A what now?”
Alamut was a place of contradiction and nothing showed that contradiction more than this…
Thermae.
Or, as Desmond liked to call it…
An unnecessarily extravagant public bathhouse…
… with freaking hot water!
What the fuck?!
He knew that many cities had public bathhouses, of course.
Not that Altaïr ever used any of them…
But this…
This was just…
What. The. Fuck.
“Oh, you must be the new boy.” A woman wearing…
God damn it, Desmond was really hoping that they didn’t have any Flowers here.
But that outfit was definitely the same sheer clothing that the Flowers of Masyaf wore. She looked about three to four years older than Desmond right now and the rosy complexion was most probably because of the steam all around them.
She must have noticed him staring at the hot water with an open mouth like an idiot and walked towards him because of that which, in his defense, was a natural reaction because it was the first thing he noticed when he entered the thermae.
Her expression was one of amusement and understanding as she asked gently, “Is this your first time seeing a thermae?”
“Uh… yeah…” Desmond nodded as he gulped.
“Well, this is Alamut’s pride and joy. One of them anyway.” The woman wrapped her arm around Desmond’s arm and led him further inside, “Many scholars worked in making this little piece of paradise happen. They scoured every and all book we have of the Roman empire just to make this happen. Of course, our men had to modify it a bit.”
This was from Ancient Rome?
Ancient Rome had public baths with hot water?
God.
Desmond wished Shaun was here right now.
He was sure Shaun would be annoyed by his ‘ignorance’ but he would explain it anyway.
“Now then…” The woman guided Desmond to one of the rooms on the left and Desmond’s eyes widened when he saw the many women lounging around the room, “Ladies, we have a first-timer!”
Desmond blushed at those words and the women all turned to look at him.
“Oh, he’s pretty.”
“Is he the one the doctor was showing around the castle earlier?”
The women began to crowd him and Desmond tried to take a step back but couldn’t because the woman kept a tight grip on his arm, “Now, now. Give the poor boy some space. It’s his first time.”
The women began to giggle as they stepped back and the woman holding his arm turned to look at him.
“Who would you like to show you around?” The woman next to him asked and Desmond turned his wide eyes at her.
He has to pick?
He just wanted to take a bath, damn it!
Probably sensing Desmond's feelings at the moment, the woman next to him giggled softly.
“How about I show you how to use the thermae?” The woman’s lips curved into a sweet smile that made Desmond freeze, “I’ll make sure you learn everything .”
Desmond gulped.
It was at that moment that Desmond wished…
He had just taken his chance incurring the guards’ wrath and used the well in town to take a cold bath.
Chapter 5
Notes:
Just a little head’s up, (this is the same note as the one in Chapter 5 of Beloved Moon) I’ll be traveling on Sunday (technically Saturday night but it's a long car ride that'll push to Sunday) so, depending on how tired I would be, I might not be able to post any new chapter next Monday but I can assure you we’ll be back to our regular Monday posting after that. Again, it’s not a definite ‘no’ but a ‘we’ll see’. Sorry TTATT
Chapter Text
“I heard you were taught the pleasures of our scholars’ thermae yesterday?” Diya al-Dīn asked casually the moment Desmond entered his office. The two guards stationed by the door glanced at him and one of them let out a snort that he quickly covered with a cough.
Desmond grimaced at the reminder as he said, “It was my… first time…”
“The nymphs have informed me of that.” Diya al-Dīn nodded as an amused smile appeared on his face.
“Nothing happened.” Desmond dryly stated, “One of them just explained to me how I’m supposed to use the thermae.”
“Did that disappoint you? That nothing had happened yesterday?” Diya al-Dīn finally closed the book he had been looking at when Desmond entered his office and placed it on his desk, “Did you want something to happen? A young man such as you-”
“I’m-” Desmond paused as he remembered…
While he was considered a minor in his time, here in this time period, most would consider him already a young man.
“I have no interest in… that…” Desmond said awkwardly.
Diya al-Dīn’s face softened as he uttered out, “Ah.”
“Well, you will find the people here will not treat you any differently simply because you crave the company of men.” Diya al-Dīn explained and Desmond’s eyes widened. Before he could say anything, Diya al-Dīn added, “Of course, it would be safer if you do not show your affection to a man beyond this castle. Alamut guards its secret well but outside-”
“Wait! Stop! No! That’s not-” Desmond paused once more.
Diya al-Dīn thought he wasn’t attracted to women and assumed that meant he was attracted to men.
On one hand, that was a grave misunderstanding.
On the other hand, Desmond knew that Diya al-Dīn would continue to press for more information if he tried to explain to him that his desire for sex was pretty much a rotting corpse right now. Desmond was already getting a headache just trying to think of a fae lie that would summarize how his sexual drive was in the negatives right now because of his paranoia thanks to his upbringing and getting kidnap with the added extra serving of trust issues that had been compounded by a certain blonde who turned out to have been on the Templars’ side all along.
Ugh. His head…
Instead, Desmond sighed and rubbed his face as he said instead, “I’m not craving the company of men . I’m… I can’t sleep with anyone I don’t trust.”
“Interesting.” Diya al-Dīn hummed as he tilted his head, “Then you desire a relationship with a man like that of a man and his wife?”
Desmond grimaced at the wording but he can’t even blame the guy because this was the 12th century.
“Sure, yeah.” Desmond nodded instead, “Something like that.”
Diya al-Dīn stared at Desmond for a moment and Desmond narrowed his eyes as he remembered one of the guards’ warnings so he said, “And I have no interest in you.”
Diya al-Dīn blinked at that while the guards by the door let out a cough and a snort at the same time.
A moment passed…
Before the guard who told him not to seduce the doctor began to laugh, clutching his knees as he bent his upper body a bit.
Desmond grimaced as he realized, "That was a joke, wasn't it?"
"Very much so. I've had young men try to seduce me before though." Diya al-Dīn laughed and shook his head as he said with a grin, “But I am happy to hear that you do not plan on doing such a thing. I dearly love my wives and they can be quite vicious to any pretty little thing I see.”
Desmond sardonically smiled at that as he said, “I don’t go for married men too.”
“Such rigidness.” Diya al-Dīn noted with a chuckle, “But I suppose you find that honorable instead?”
Desmond simply shrugged at that.
“And that is the end of this conversation then.” Diya al-Dīn said with a smile and looked at his desk, “Do you know how to read?”
Desmond nodded, “Yeah, I can read.”
Diya al-Dīn raised his head as he grabbed two pieces of paper from the right side of the desk and clarified, “Our language, not the Christians’.”
Desmond nodded as he answered, “Yeah. I can read those.”
As well as French, Latin, and Old English.
Thanks to Altaïr and Ezio’s bleed, of course.
… Mostly Altaïr because he was an overachiever with something to prove.
“Interesting.” Diya al-Dīn said and walked towards the table filled with glass vials and herbs. He grabbed a basket and placed four bottles inside the basket before walking toward Desmond.
He stood in front of Desmond and handed the papers to him using his right hand. As Desmond looked over the first paper, Diya al-Dīn explained as he used his right hand to take the first bottle, “This is for Sayid. He’s an old man with a bad leg. Remind him that he must only cover his leg with this if it is aching. He must not drink this. You will probably find him by the front gates in town playing nardshir with someone. Do not accept his invitation to play a game with him.”
Desmond raised an eyebrow at that.
Diya al-Dīn placed the first bottle in the basket and grabbed another, showing it to Desmond as he said, “This is for Rawiya. He broke his arm three days ago. Give this to one of his brothers, not to him. Remind them that their brother must drink this after every meal. Ask Oded in the shadow’s tower where they are stationed for today.”
“The shadow’s tower?” Desmond repeated and tilted his head.
“The tower behind the palace.” Diya al-Dīn said and Desmond blinked.
They called the tower that was most probably where the Assassins of Alamut were the ‘shadow’s tower’.
Huh.
A little on the nose but okay.
Diya al-Dīn placed the second bottle in the basket and took out the largest bottle as he explained, “This is for the nymphs in thermae. Give this to Hilde, not to any of the nymphs. She knows what to do with it.”
Desmond grimaced at the reminder of the women in thermae and Diya al-Dīn chuckled before picking up the smallest of the bottles as he said, “This is for Khalid. I would say that you could ask Oded where he is stationed as well but he likes to disappear from time to time. You will find him either in the scholar’s tower or on the archery range. If not, the best you can do is ask around. Do not give this to anybody else.”
Watching Diya al-Dīn place the small bottle back into the basket, he asked curiously, “No special instructions for that one?”
“No. Khalid knows what to do with it.” Diya al-Dīn paused for a moment before adding, “If he doesn’t, he’ll die.”
Desmond blinked at the casualness of his tone.
“I wrote down everything I just told you on that first page.” Diya al-Dīn said and Desmond looked back at the paper and, yes, the entire page had the same instructions.
It did give the names of Rawiya’s brothers too which was nice.
“The second page has sketches of the plants I need you to find after you deliver all of these bottles.” Diya al-Dīn said as he handed the basket to Desmond. Desmond flipped through the second page and blinked.
The sketches were nice and all but there was no name for any of the plants.
“Uhhh…”
“All of them can be found on the mountain path leading here. Be careful as you will go down the path where the nearest village will be a day away by foot.” Diya al-Dīn said and that was quite unhelpful.
“Thanks.” Desmond nonetheless said and folded both papers before putting them on the small satchel he had tied to his leather belt.
“Try to get at least ten of each. More is always better.” Diya al-Dīn added before walking back to his desk, “Return here once you’re done.”
“Yes, sir,” Desmond said and bowed slightly, freezing when he realized that he just answered the same way he was trained to whenever he received an order from William Miles. He raised his head and saw the curiosity on Diya al-Dīn’s face. Not wanting to talk about this, he said quickly, “I’ll see you later, doc!”
Desmond didn’t wait for the doctor to reply and ignored the curious stares from the two guards as well.
Desmond took a deep breath to calm himself.
It was time to pretend he was just the doctor’s errand boy and…
Look around Alamut castle.
Desmond didn’t want to but the thermae was near the palace so it made sense to go there first on his way to the shadow's tower (seriously, they couldn’t think of a cooler name for it?). He could have gone for the scholar’s tower first, sure, but he wasn’t even sure if this Khalid was there. Might as well ask the man called Oded (who was most probably an Assassin) where he was stationed today as well just to be sure.
But first…
“Oh, Desmond! Welcome back.” One of the women lounging by the entrance greeted him. All the other women by the entrance turned and smiled at him.
“Come for another bath, Desmond?”
“Would you like me to accompany you this time?”
Desmond smiled at them politely before showing them the basket, shaking it lightly as he said, “Sorry, ladies. I’m here to deliver medicine for Hilde?”
“Hilde?” The women turned to whisper to one another, “Is Hilde sick?”
“Oh no. What will we do if she becomes bedridden?!”
“Should we ask Maria? Oh, the poor dear wouldn’t be able to handle all of Hilde’s work.”
“Uuuuhhh…” Desmond tried to explain before their gossip turned to panic, “The medicine is for all of you, I think? But I was ordered to only give it to Hilde?”
At those words, all of the women turned to stare at him and they started to giggle, “Oooohh.”
“It must be our after-morning potion.” One of the women noted.
“After-morning…” Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized, “Oh.”
The women giggled at the expression on Desmond’s face and one of them pointed at the door on the other side of the thermae, “Hilde should be in her office right now.”
“Okay, thanks.” Desmond nodded at them and walked further into the thermae, making sure not to bump into any of the women.
Instead of walking to the main thermae, he used the corridors surrounding it to walk around it.
He did have to stop and wait as a man walked out of the main thermae and went to one of the other sections.
If he remembered correctly, he was heading to the hot room which actually had hot water that made Desmond shiver.
When Desmond finally reached the door that the women pointed him to, he knocked and waited for someone to answer him.
The door slowly opened. It only opened enough for Desmond to see a woman by the other side of the door, asking in a small voice, “Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Desmond, the doctor’s new errand boy.” Desmond introduced himself before asking, “I have a delivery for Hilde?”
“For me?” A familiar voice asked from the other side of the door, “Let him in, Maria!”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small sardonic smile.
Of course, he would meet another Maria in this place.
The quiet woman named Maria opened the door and stepped to the side, making Desmond blink when he recognized the woman standing by a desk as the same woman that had educated him yesterday.
“Oh, Desmond, welcome back, dear!” The woman (who Desmond was assuming to be Hilde) walked around the desk and towards him.
Desmond used the basket to stop her from touching him and said, “From the doctor.”
Hilde raised an eyebrow as he handed her the biggest bottle in the basket. Her lips curved into a small smile as she said, “Oh, I see. Thank you for bringing this, Desmond.”
“No problem.” Desmond took a step back as he said, “Well, I should get going. Still have more deliveries to make and I need to find plan-”
“Wait.” Hilde grabbed his wrist and Desmond froze. Not because of fear or surprise but because he had to stop himself from pushing the woman off as his instincts wanted to.
Hilde let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around herself as she said, “I didn’t tell him about your… scars.”
Desmond continued to keep quiet.
He did wonder why Diya al-Dīn didn’t make any comment about that when he was asking about Desmond’s time in the thermae.
“And there is an unwritten rule here that we do not speak of what we see here.” Hilde continued, “Everyone abides by that rule. Even the men.”
“But…” She took a step closer and gently said, “If you are uncomfortable bathing with others, we have private rooms you can use.”
“Oh.” Desmond blinked at that and nodded, “Uh… Thanks. I’ll… think about it.”
She smiled and nodded, “Good. We do hope to see you again soon, Desmond. The thermae is the pride and joy of the scholars. They will see it as an insult if you do not use it.”
“Don’t wanna make an enemy of the nerds.” Desmond joked, having heard about how the scholars had pretty much strong-armed the leader of Alamut to agree to the creation of the thermae.
“Nerds?” Hilde repeated with a curious expression.
“Uuuhh…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he explained, “It’s… um… I guess you can say a bit of a joking way to call the scholars from where I come from?”
“Nerds…” Hilde repeated and her lips curved into a smile, “I like the sound of it.”
… Desmond hoped he didn’t just screw up history by accidentally inventing the word nerd this early.
It seemed that to get to the shadow’s tower, he had to go through the palace courtyard.
Well.
Desmond supposed that the walls surrounding Alamut castle were probably the more common route taken by the Assassins.
He could even see some scaffoldings and ropes by the walls and the tower that would make it faster and easier.
But he was pretending to be a simple errand boy so walking through the courtyard was his only route.
It was a nice courtyard too.
Reminded him a lot of Paradise in Masyaf.
Now that Desmond thought about it, Alamut seemed like a bigger version of Masyaf.
Or, to be more exact, Masyaf was built like a smaller version of Alamut.
He wondered if that had been Al Mualim’s intention from the start.
While he knew that he couldn’t trust his bleed’s memories concerning Alamut, it was too much of a coincidence that Masyaf and Alamut looked so similar.
At the end of the courtyard was a long staircase with flowing water on either side which Desmond climbed. He sneezed and blinked when he noticed the smell of oil coming from somewhere.
He looked around but frowned when he didn’t see anything that could have made that smell.
It was a faint smell though, something that Desmond wouldn’t have noticed had he not been alert.
He scented the air and walked towards one of the flowing waterways next to the staircase. He crouched and…
Sniffed.
The scent of oil was more noticeable this up close and Desmond tilted his head.
Holy shit.
There were oil marks underneath the water.
Why would there…
Desmond stood and scratched his cheek as he began to ascend the stairs once more.
It was possible that…
These waterways that flowed all over the courtyard, the primary way to get to the shadow’s tower, could be drained of their water and then…
Have them replace it with oil perhaps?
That would mean…
Desmond stopped on the top of the stairs and turned around, his eyes widening as he realized that the waterway of the courtyard flowed all over the castle grounds.
It was risky but…
Burning an entire castle in case of an imminent defeat would be something a secret organization like the Assassins would do to preserve their secrets.
The top of the stairs led to a large training ring that reminded Desmond of Masyaf’s own training ring. The Assassin insignia was even etched on the grounds just like in Masyaf. Desmond relaxed as he saw the many hooded forms of the Assassins of Alamut. He could see one part of the training ring being used by young men wearing the robes of a recruit and he went there first, hoping the combat instructor would be as friendly as Masyaf’s Rauf.
He just hoped this Oded was some kind of high-ranking Master Assassin in charge of the Assassins' schedule here in Alamut and he also hoped that he didn’t have to talk to the leader of the Alamut Assassin, ‘A'lā’ Muhammad.
Getting that man’s attention would make Desmond’s life harder than it already was.
Desmond looked around, checking to see who could be the combat instructor.
He noticed that the recruits were currently paired off together, performing basic strikes and parries. He frowned when he noticed three of the recruits had bad footwork and two of them just had bad forms overall.
He itched to correct them but knew that would be weird so he ignored them instead and walked towards the man wearing Master Assassin robes with his arms crossed, observing everyone intently.
Not that Desmond was sure just how intently he was actually staring at them since he hadn’t noticed those recruits that needed help.
Still, Desmond approached him and made sure to keep the basket in front of him as he tried to get the attention of the scowling man, “Excuse me.”
The Assassin glanced at him and, up this close, Desmond saw that he had tattoos on his forehead and cheeks. Desmond tilted his head as he recognized them to be both Arabic letters and Egyptian hieroglyphics.
“Stop.” The Assassin ordered and all of the recruits stopped and turned to face him. He looked at each of them as he said, “Three of you had bad footwork. Two of you had bad form. And one of you wasn’t taking this seriously.”
Desmond watched as all the recruits glanced at each other.
“I will give you until I finish my conversation with the doctor’s assistant to step forward and admit your mistakes. Those who do not admit their mistake will have double cleaning duties this week.”
Desmond couldn’t help but join the recruits in wincing at that. He had vague memories of Masyaf’s double cleaning duties but what he did remember was not pretty at all.
The recruits waited until the man turned to look at Desmond to start to whisper to each other. Without looking back at them, he ordered, “Reflect in silence.”
That immediately quieted down everybody and the Assassin ignored them to stare at Desmond as he asked stoically, “Yes?”
“Uh… I’m looking for Oded?” Desmond said, wondering if he should have added a ‘sir’ at the end of that question.
“That would be me.” The Assassin informed Desmond, glancing at the basket in his hands, before asking, “Does the doctor have a message for me?”
“Oh, no.” Desmond shook his head and raised the basket slightly to show Oded the bottles still inside as he explained, “I need to deliver medicine to Khalid-”
Oded’s expression turned into one of resignation and displeasure at that but he said nothing.
“And to Rawiya? Well…” Desmond lowered the basket and added, “Diya al-Dīn told me to give it to his brothers…”
“That would be wise, yes.” Oded nodded before explaining, “Rawiya has been ordered to not do any training or patrols for the moment due to his broken arm. He’s probably visiting his father in town or in the thermae with the nymphs. Nahir and Hameez are stationed on the main gates in town until midday.”
“As for Khalid.” Oded sighed and rubbed his temple, “He is meant to be part of the patrol of the western walls but I have not seen him at all today.”
Oded turned to his left and Desmond followed his eyes as they both stared at the archery range, “He is also not trying out one of his 'safer' experimental bows…”
Oded turned to look back at Desmond as he said, “Most probably he is in the scholar’s tower. Try asking the scholars in charge of plants and poisons.”
“Plants… and poison?” Desmond blinked.
“Yes.” Oded looked at the basket and warned, “And, whatever Khalid says, do not drink or eat anything he gives you.”
“Because it’ll be poisonous?” Desmond guessed dryly.
Oded nodded solemnly.
“Oh, cool,” Desmond said with a nod.
Once more, Desmond wondered what the hell was up with this entire place.
Chapter 6
Notes:
GOOD NEWS! I was able to post this week’s chapter at the same-ish time as usual.
BAD NEWS! I won’t be able to post next week as I’ll be quite busy, sorry. Hopefully, I’ll be able to return to our usual weekly updates next next week but if things get super busy, I’ll post something on my tumblr to give you guys a head’s up. I am… cautiously optimistic that it won’t be… probably.
Chapter Text
His conversation with the Assassin by the name of Oded ended soon after and Desmond left the training ring just as all the recruits stepped forward. Desmond wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not but, as he left, he heard Oded instructing them in basic footwork so maybe it was?
It wasn’t like Desmond had any reason to say anything about how they were trained after all.
He was just the doctor’s errand boy.
He tried his luck on the scholar’s tower next. Since the scholar’s tower was a few levels too high for his taste, he asked the nearby Assassin who was reading a book at the same table as three scholars if he had seen Khalid. The Assassin simply snorted and told him to check the fourth floor.
It was only when Desmond had stepped onto the fourth floor that he realized that he should have asked what Khalid had looked like. The fourth floor was separated into two main sections. To his right were bookshelves filled with books and rolled-up papers while to his left there were those antiquated-looking apparatuses that reminded Desmond of a medieval science lab.
A lot of scholars were milling around the floor as well and Desmond could see at least three Assassins also around this floor.
But there was only one table on the left that everyone stayed clear away from.
With a young man wearing the robes of an Assassin.
Desmond sighed and walked straight towards that one table, ignoring the look of wary that the scholars made when they saw him.
The Assassins, on the other hand, raised their heads to look at him curiously.
Desmond made sure to stand on the table’s right, a few feet away just to be safe, before saying, “Are you Khalid? Diya al-Dīn ordered me to give you something?”
The Assassin turned to stare at him and grinned as he said, “Oh? That’s great! Throw it here!”
The curious expressions of the Assassins turned to alarm and Desmond shook his head as he dryly said, “I’d rather you come over here and get it yourself.”
Khalid chuckled and covered the brewing… whatever it was… in front of him before walking towards him as he casually asked, “They warned you about me then?”
“Diya al-Dīn told me to give it to you personally. I don’t think throwing it counts.” Desmond replied as he handed the smallest bottle to the grinning man.
Khalid raised the bottle at the same height as his eyes and closed his right eye as he mumbled, “Not a speck of impurity. Very nice.”
He tipped it slowly and mumbled, “Concentrated too. As expected from the doctor…”
He turned to grin at Desmond as he asked, “Wanna give it a taste?”
“No, thanks.” Desmond dryly said before turning around, “Well, good luck with your poison-making.”
“Did they tell you that I was making poison too?” Khalid asked with a chuckle.
Desmond slightly turned and pointed at the white flowers on Khalid’s table, “No. Those Daturas are a dead giveaway.”
Khalid’s eyes widened and he glanced at his table before turning to stare at Desmond who was already walking away.
Khalid rubbed his chin as he watched Desmond descend the stairs, letting out a small hum.
Desmond made his way to the town below the castle, making sure to smile and greet the guards stationed by the gates separating the castle from the town. It was better for him to be friendly with the guards and the other Assassins. If he was going to try to be just another civilian, being friendly was a safer route than being offstandish or being the lone wolf. Both of those would just make people pay more attention to him.
As Desmond followed the main road, he returned every greeting he got. Some of them even stopped him to ask him if he got the job and congratulated him.
The town itself was only a few square feet larger than Masyaf so he wasn’t surprised that they already knew who he was. It was because of this that Desmond knew it would be better to be seen as friendly. Words spread in this kind of town quickly and Desmond didn’t want any bad rumors going around him that could easily kick him out of Alamut.
It might have taken a bit more time than it should but Desmond finally reached the gates leading outside of Alamut and he realized that the older man he had seen yesterday playing a board game with an Assassin must be the same old man that he was supposed to give the medicine to.
He approached the old man as he played with a much younger Assassin than his opponent yesterday and Desmond noticed that the young Assassin had his arm in a sling.
Desmond turned his attention to the old man and tilted his head slightly when he noticed the missing left ring finger.
A retired Assassin then?
How interesting.
Retirement was unheard of in Masyaf. Even those older than Al Mualim still held positions in their Brotherhood. Either they were part of the council, a scholar in the keep’s main library, or a Rafiq in one of the bureaus all around al-Sham.
Desmond wondered if the same could be said for Alamut?
He’d probably need to try and get information from the old man if he ever wanted to find out if he was retired or if this whole ‘old man playing board games’ was his cover to keep an eye on the entrance.
“Um… Sayid?” Desmond winced, wondering if he should have added a ‘sir’ at the beginning of his name. It was already too late as both the old man and the young Assassin turned to stare at him so he just went along with it and raised his basket slightly, “I’m here to deliver your leg medicine?”
“Ah!” The old man’s lips curved to a smile, “You must be the one everyone’s been talking about! My son tells me that the doctor has taken a shine on you!”
The young Assassin smiled at Desmond while the old man patted his other arm, “Hello. Desmond, right?”
“Yeah.” Desmond nodded and handed the bottle to the old man. He turned his attention to the old man as he said, “Diya al-Dīn told me to remind you that you’re supposed to rub it on your leg if it’s aching. Don’t drink it.”
“You drank it?!” The young Assassin turned to stare at his father with wide eyes, “Father!”
“Bah!” The old man simply waved his son’s concern as he defended himself, “It was just one bottle-”
“An entire bottle?!” Both Desmond and the young Assassin repeated with wide eyes.
“And I was curious! It smells so sweet, after all.” The old man said as he put the bottle next to the board game between him and his son.
“Let me guess, it didn’t taste sweet at all?” Desmond dryly commented.
The old man wrinkled his nose as he said, “I’ve had sweeter armpits!”
The young Assassin groaned and covered his face with his good arm as he mumbled, “Nobody says that, father! Please, stop comparing things to armpits. It’s embarrassing!”
Desmond chuckled softly and the old man turned to smile at him.
“Would you like to play a match with me, young man?” The old man asked with a smile.
He was interested, yes, but he knew his interest was because he remembered how Ratonhnhaké:ton liked to learn about the many different board games Achilles taught him. Desmond himself had never been one to enjoy board games in general.
Seeing the wide eyes of the young Assassin whose expression just screamed that Desmond should not say yes to that, Desmond grinned at the father and son duo and shook his nearly empty basket slightly as he said, “Thanks for the offer but I still have a job to do.”
“Such dedication.” The old man hummed and nodded approvingly, “Well, don’t let us keep you here then.”
“But…” The old man smiled at him as he said, “If you ever find yourself having nothing to do, do think about indulging an old man with at least a single match.”
Desmond grinned as he nodded, “Sure. I’ll think about it.”
He waved at them awkwardly as he began to walk away, “I should get going. It’s nice to meet you both!”
“You too, Desmond!” The young Assassin waved back.
As Desmond walked away from them, he heard the old man ask, “Where are your manners, son? You didn’t even introduce yourself.”
“Oh! I forgot!”
Desmond chuckled and shook his head.
And ignored the wisps of jealousy in his heart at seeing a father and son simply having fun.
“Nahir and Hameez?” Desmond asked as he approached two of the guards stationed by the main gates of Alamut. He assumed it was them because they look a bit alike but he could be wrong.
“Yes?” The older-looking Assassin turned to face him with a polite smile while his brother narrowed his eyes as he stared at Desmond.
Desmond sensed no hostility but it was clear that the younger brother didn’t trust him.
“Diya al-Dīn told me to give your brother’s medicine to you two?” Desmond said as he grabbed the last remaining bottle from his basket and offered it to the two brothers. The older one took it as Desmond explained, “He needs to drink this after every meal.”
Desmond paused for a moment before saying, “He didn’t say how much he should drink though…”
“Three drops.” Both brothers replied in unison, making Desmond raise an eyebrow at that.
The older one sighed and shook his head fondly as he said, “Rawiya tells us this tastes like a leper’s armpit. We’re quite used to pinning him down so he’ll take it.”
The younger one snorted at that but remained quiet while the older brother said to him, “Speaking of… the castle should be serving lunch right now. We should get Rawiya and father to eat lunch with us once our replacements arrive.”
“Father would like that.” The younger commented with a nod.
The older brother turned to face Desmond once more as he asked, “Would you like to join us, Desmond?”
Desmond blinked when he remembered he had never introduced himself but he wasn’t surprised. Most probably, all of Alamut already knew his name.
Especially the Assassins.
“Thanks but I still need to get some plants for Diya al-Dīn.” Desmond said with an apologetic smile as he shook his empty basket slightly, “I’ll get something to eat after.”
“I see.” The older one nodded and said, “Then I hope you finish your remaining tasks soon, Desmond. If you ever see us in the dining hall, do say hello. I’m sure our father and Rawiya would be happy to meet you.”
“Sure.” Desmond nodded as he gave the older one a practiced smile.
The idea of being anywhere near a happy family right now was definitely not something Desmond wanted to be near at.
He’d just be awkward the entire time.
“Well, I better go.” Desmond awkwardly began to walk away but kept his attention on the two brothers, “Tell your father and brother I said hi.”
“Okay, bye!” Desmond said as he turned around and briskly walked away.
God.
He was so bad at walking away from conversations.
And he had been too busy berating himself for that awkward goodbye that he almost didn’t hear a familiar voice call out to him, “Wait! Desmond!”
He turned around just as he stepped out of the open gates of Alamut and blinked when he realized it was the younger of the brothers that was trying to catch up to him.
The man stopped in front of him and frowned as he asked, “You’re leaving?”
“Uh… not permanently?” Desmond replied in a slightly confused tone, “Diya al-Dīn told me the plants he needed are by the mountain path?”
The younger one’s brows furrowed even deeper as he asked, “And you’re going there alone?”
“Yeah.” Desmond nodded before realizing, “Oh! You’re worried.”
“Yeah, just a bit.” The younger one dryly said and looked at Desmond like he was an idiot, “The path can be quite dangerous.”
“I’ll be fine.” Desmond grinned as he said, “I did get to Alamut all on my own.”
“We know.” The younger brother sighed and unhooked two of his satchels from his belt, “Here.”
Desmond took both satchels curiously as the younger brother said, “You seem to have a water skin on your belt which is good. Is it full?”
“Yeah…?” Desmond tilted his head as he answered the young Assassin.
“You can use that water to clean your wounds if you fall. One of the satchels I gave you has three pieces of hard bread. They taste awful and your teeth will hate you but if you ever find yourself hungry and can’t move, they’ll at least keep you full.” The younger brother explained, “The other satchel has a few small and one big ceramic balls inside. Be careful with them. If you see any wild animals, throw one of the small balls at them. The smell should be enough to make them run away. If you find yourself unable to move, find the ball that’s larger than the rest and throw it away from you. It’ll let out black smoke that we’ll see from the castle and we’ll come find you. Also, the smoke from these balls is painful to the eyes and nose so make sure you’re not throwing them in a direction that will make the wind blow the smoke toward you.”
Desmond blinked.
Bombs.
Alamut had smoke bombs.
And from the sounds of it…
They were using it as some kind of emergency signal as well.
What the fuck.
“Do you understand, Desmond?” The younger one asked with a frown.
“Y-yeah.” Desmond nodded and clipped both satchels on his belt as he said, “Thanks… uhhh…”
“Hameez.” The younger brother introduced himself. His frown deepened as he said, “Just be careful. You got to Alamut because you were on horseback and horses usually have good instincts when it comes to where they step. The mountain path can be dangerous to those who aren’t familiar with it.”
“Thanks, Hameez.” Desmond said with a smile, “I promise I’ll be careful.”
“Good.” Hameez nodded and said, “My brother is informing our replacements that you’ve left for the mountain path. If you don’t return by the time the sun starts to set, they’ll send out a search party.”
Desmond’s eyes widened as he asked, “Isn’t that too much?”
“The path isn't the only thing you should be careful of. We’ve seen a pack of wolves these past weeks. They haven’t come close to the castle and we haven’t had any reports of them attacking anyone yet so we haven’t done anything about them but…”
“I’ll throw the balls at them if they come near me,” Desmond promised.
“And you’ll run away,” Hameez added with narrowed eyes.
“Yup. I’ll run away too.” Desmond grinned as he nodded.
“Alright.” Hameez nodded with a slight frown on his face, “Be sure to be back before the sun starts to set. And eat a hard bread if you don’t plan to come back for lunch.”
“Got it.” Desmond began walking away as he said, “I have to go now, Hameez. If I ever plan to finish finding those plants before sunset, I better get going, right?”
“Alright.” Hameez stayed by the gates and he shouted, “Before the sun sets, Desmond!”
“Got it!”
Okay. So maybe Hameez wasn’t lying about the danger of the mountain path.
Now that he was alone, Desmond used his Eagle Vision to check his surroundings.
And he could see the red mist around some of the edges of the mountain path.
Normally, he would assume it was because there was a cliff on the other side of those edges but he noticed some of the red mists were circling around quite a large area and Desmond assumed that meant that those parts were most probably going to break if he was to step on them.
Okay then.
That meant Desmond just had to keep hugging the other side of the path.
He could do that.
What he did need was a good viewpoint that he could use to check where he could find these plants.
There was a loud bird cry above him and he raised his head, blinking when he realized that there was some kind of bird flying above him. Desmond’s eyes followed the bird as it flew to his left and blinked when he noticed a tall tree just a few feet away from him.
Well then.
It seemed Desmond found his viewpoint.
When Desmond was on the Farm, they had lessons on alternative medicines.
Desmond thought they were being all hippy about it before but, now, he realized that they were trying to give him and the other children as much information as they could concerning what they could use when they were hurt and they couldn’t buy or steal medicine.
He still had nightmares of having to learn how to staple a wound close by using a pig’s carcass though.
The fact that they cooked and ate the pig afterward did not help at all.
Desmond didn’t remember all of the lessons but the plants he had been tasked to find were all familiar to him.
They were plants that his mother had made sure Desmond memorized.
A plant that could help alleviate fever.
A flower that when boiled would help soothe the pain.
A plant that when turned to paste could be used to disinfect small wounds.
And all the other plants on the list were familiar to Desmond as plants and flowers that his mother had made him memorize. Not like the random flower that setti had given him before.
These were all confirmed plants with medicinal properties.
Did that mean that this list was something everyone in Masyaf knew about?
That was the only reason that Desmond could think of as to why his mother, a descendant of Altaïr, had made Desmond memorize a bigger list than the one he had right now.
Maybe if he was to ask Diya al-Dīn the complete list, he’d probably give the same list as the one Desmond had memorized as a child.
And that wasn’t the only thing his mother had him memorize.
She also had him memorize poisonous plants.
He remembered Datura by sight back in the scholar’s tower because of it. He also recognized it as the one the Ottoman Brotherhood used for their poison bombs during Ezio’s time.
And now…
One of the plants Diya al-Dīn wanted him to pick was…
Aconite.
And he just found a small patch of it a few meters away from Alamut castle.
Which was strange because…
This small patch looked too… cared for to be something that just grew out here in nature.
Also… he couldn’t be entirely sure but he didn’t think this kind of aconite was native around these parts.
That meant…
Someone was taking care of this patch of aconite.
Someone in Alamut.
Desmond rubbed the back of his neck.
He was sure that he wouldn’t have found this patch if it wasn’t for his Eagle Vision. It had glowed bright white in the sea of gray and it was hidden by the foliage around it, shrouding the small clearing where a bed of aconite grew like a beautiful death sentence for any unsuspecting soul.
Considering that Diya al-Dīn wanted him to get aconite…
It was highly possible that Diya al-Dīn knew about this secret patch.
It was also highly possible that Diya al-Dīn was the one taking care of this patch.
But he didn’t tell Desmond the location of his little aconite garden and there was no way in hell Desmond would have found any other aconite growing around these parts unless the bees and small birds were more than happy to pollinate the surrounding with poisonous plants.
Was it a test then?
To check how good Desmond was at tracking maybe?
Or did the doctor just forget to tell him the exact location?
Desmond sighed and looked at his nearly filled basket.
He couldn’t let the aconite contaminate the other plants he already picked. They were all to help people. He wasn’t sure how meticulous Diya al-Dīn would be in cleaning them afterward too.
Not to mention…
It was dangerous to pick up aconite without gloves.
Ugh.
Desmond felt the desire to strangle someone again and it was changing from his bleed of Altaïr to Diya al-Dīn fast.
Desmond took out a clean piece of fabric from one of his satchels and placed it on top of the basket. Hopefully, that would be enough to protect the rest from the aconite. He’d suggest he be the one to clean all of them too once he gets back to Diya al-Dīn just to be safe.
After that, he picked up another piece of fabric and placed it on top of his left hand.
It was the best he could do given the circumstances and he would like to offer a silent thank you to the poor guards he had knocked out in Jerusalem to get these fabrics from.
And for the small dagger he had been using to cut the plants.
He crouched in front of the patch and held his breath as he began to cut off aconites.
He’ll only take ten then get out.
That was as far as he was willing to go for an obviously poisonous plant.
As he placed the fourth aconite onto his basket, he heard the loud cry of some kind of bird above him.
And the sound of a twig snapping behind him.
Chapter 7
Notes:
Warning: There’s a description of dead animals and the killing of animals in this chapter. If you do not wish to read it, please start at the line “He groaned and pushed them both off” for the aftermath or “The guards on either side of” if you want to skip all the scenes involving dead animals. Do note, that the killing of animals will be talked about even after those scenes but they will no longer be descriptive and will only be pushed aside after the line “That would explain why". If you’d like to skip this entire chapter due to this, I will leave a summary of this chapter in the ending notes.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Desmond’s body reacted before he could fully comprehend what was happening. He quickly turned around, bending his knees slightly as he leaned his entire body to the left. A blur of fur missed him by just an inch and Desmond immediately brought his right hand, smacking it against the blur.
There was a moment of hesitation as he remembered he didn’t have a hidden blade and he gripped the fur tightly just as he stabbed his assailant in the neck with his dagger.
Desmond went down on his knees, his mind finally catching up as he recognized what he had just killed.
A wolf.
The sounds of howls made Desmond pull his dagger out and ready himself.
Fuck.
He heard…
Three?
No.
Four.
There were four more wolves charging toward him.
Should he run away?
No.
He can’t.
The wolves would catch up to him.
Desmond dodged another incoming wolf but had to take a few steps back as another wolf charged him before he could attack the first one.
The wolves began to circle him and Desmond glanced around him. This patch of aconite was the only clearing that he know of. The forest was too dense for him and, against a pack of wolves, it would be too dangerous to try and lose them in the woods. There wasn’t also any branch low enough that Desmond could use to get up quickly.
Which meant he only had one choice left.
Desmond let the remnants of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s bleed guide him as he dodged out of the way of the incoming wolves. He crouched to evade one more wolf and, seeing an opening, Desmond flicked his wrist, nicking the wolf on the leg as it passed above him.
The wolf stumbled and Desmond quickly turned around and plunged his dagger into the wolf’s neck. The both of them fell to the ground but Desmond pulled the dagger out of the wolf and rolled to his right just as a wolf charged him. He didn’t roll all that far, stopping just a few inches away from the wolf that snarled at him as Desmond grabbed him by the leg and pulled as he plunged his dagger into the wolf’s neck. Desmond used the momentum of his attack to roll on top of the wolf as its body slumped to the floor. Desmond got back to his feet as he pulled the dagger out of the wolf and took a few steps back as he readied himself once more, his sixteen-year-old body already slightly out of breath.
Two more wolves remained and they charged him at the same time as they let out a loud growl.
Desmond let out an animalistic growl of his own and charged them as well as they jumped towards him. He focused on the wolf on the left, his charge causing the wolf on the right to miss. Desmond plunged his dagger right through the wolf’s neck as it slammed into him, tilting his head to the right to avoid the large maws of the wild animal.
Desmond fell on his back as the wolf’s entire weight fell on top of him, letting out a coughing gasp. He heard the last wolf charge him once more and used the wolf carcass on top of him as a shield, pulling it in front of him as the wolf’s jaw clamped tightly on the carcass’ head. Desmond pulled his dagger quickly and plunged it into the wolf on top of him, hitting him in the chest. Desmond let out a loud scream as he pushed the dagger upward, slicing straight to the wolf’s neck. He closed his eyes as blood splattered above him. Most of it splattered all over the carcass on top of him.
Desmond grunted when the other wolf carcass fell on top of him, pinning him under two adult wolves.
He groaned and pushed them both off with all the strength his sixteen-year-old body could muster. He managed to push them off but he was breathing so heavily and his heart was beating too fast. Desmond stared at the afternoon sky as he took deep breaths, timing his breathing to the closing and opening of his palms.
His entire body was aching like hell but he wasn’t hurt. He raised his left hand and groaned when he noticed how bloody his dagger was. Considering he had hit the wolf in the chest, it seemed the dagger had chipped as well.
Desmond slowly sat up, rolling his shoulders and immediately winced when his body protested painfully at his movements. He crawled back to the aconite patch and wondered why the fuck he was just attacked.
If Ratonhnhaké:ton’s memories were right, wolves shouldn’t normally attack people.
Were his memories of Ratonhnhaké:ton as faulty as his memories of Altaïr?
Could he even trust any of his memories right now?
Desmond heard another screech and the shadows of a bird flew above him before some sort of bird of prey quickly swooped down, taking the carcass of what seemed to be a dead rabbit on the other side of the aconite patch. Desmond watched with an open mouth as the bird of prey flew upward with its easy prey and Desmond groaned as he pressed his forehead against the ground.
A dead animal.
The wolves were after the dead animal and they must have thought Desmond was after the same thing.
Desmond raised his head and shouted at the bird as it flew away, “That was poisoned! You’ll get sick!”
The bird let out a cry as if answering him but kept on flying with the dead rabbit anyway.
Desmond sighed.
It wasn’t Desmond’s problem anymore.
He used his chipped dagger to get the remaining aconite before standing. He turned around and frowned as he looked at the carcasses of the wolves he had killed.
He could just leave them but…
He couldn’t.
His remnants of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s bleed would not allow it.
But, even if he was to skin them, he couldn’t bring all of them back to Alamut.
Unless…
Desmond opened the small bag that Hameez had given him and took out the largest ball inside.
In the heat of the moment, he honestly forgot about these…
Not that he would tell Hameez that. He can already imagine the look that would be questioning just how stupid he was.
He looked around, checking the direction of the wind, before throwing the ball at one of the trees just at the edge of the clearing. The ball shattered on impact and let out black smoke that quickly began to rise. Desmond tilted his head.
Huh.
He was expecting some kind of big explosion.
Although, now that he thought about it, that would be dumb since this bomb was meant to signal for help anyway.
He shrugged and walked towards the nearest carcass. He knelt in front of the carcass and held his chipped dagger tightly as he whispered, “ Nia:wen .”
After saying his thanks, Desmond began to skin the carcass, hoping he’d be done by the time the Assassins arrive.
The Assassins arrived by the time Desmond was just finishing the last carcass and he grinned as he recognized two of them.
“Hey, Hameez, Nahir.” Desmond took the last piece of meat from the carcass and placed it on top of the upturned wolf pelt as he had no other places to put it on. The three Assassins that came rushing towards the clearing stared at him with wide eyes.
“Desmond…” Hameez stared at the carcass in front of Desmond as he asked, “What happened?”
“Oh, you know.” Desmond used his thumb to point at the aconite patch behind him as he explained casually, “Dead rabbit ate some aconite. Wolves thought I was after the dead rabbit. They attacked me. I defended myself.”
Desmond stood and waved at the blocks of meat that he had arranged on top of all the wolf pelts as he continued, “And I couldn’t just let their death go to waste soooo…”
Desmond grinned at them as he said, “I called you guys.”
“You called us…” Nahir tilted his head as he asked, “For what exactly?”
“To bring all these back to the castle.” Desmond waved his hands over the meat in front of him before correcting himself quickly, “Well, not the castle itself. I mean bring them to Alamut and give them to the townspeople.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” The third Assassin behind Hameez and Nahir waved his hand in the direction of the meat as he asked, “You’re saying you killed all of these wolves, skinned them and you’re just… what? Giving them all away to the townspeople?”
Desmond grabbed the basket and nodded, “Yup.”
Desmond grinned at them as he said, “I have to get this back to Diya al-Dīn so I’ll see you guys later.”
“Thanks!” Desmond exclaimed as he quickly ran away, leaving the transportation of five wolves worth of meat back to the three poor Assassins he had duped into coming to him.
“Wait, Desmond!” Nahir shouted but Desmond didn’t stop running.
“Sorry! The doc needs all of these now!” Desmond shouted back as he continued to run as there was no way in hell he was going to help with transporting them.
The three Assassins stared in the direction where Desmond had run to before they all turned to look back at the meat. The two of them looked at Nahir as he was the highest-ranking member of the three of them and Nahir sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I suppose we should just do as he asked considering these are his kills,” Nahir said as he stared at the meat. He turned towards the third Assassin with them as he ordered, “Get us a cart. That would make it easier to bring these all back to the castle.”
“Alright.” The Assassin nodded before turning around and running back to the castle.
Hameez frowned at his brother as he asked, “What do we tell the mentor about this?”
“The truth.” Nahir replied, “Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad took down five wolves by himself and requested that they be given to our people.”
Hameez frowned as he commented, “It was less of a request and more of an order.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Nahir rubbed his chin as he remembered the calm way Desmond had given his order, “It almost sounds like he’s used to ordering people around.”
“Then he might truly be a noble then?” Hameez asked with a tilt of his head, “A bastard child who ran away?”
Nahir shrugged as he replied, “The mentor ordered us to observe, not to speculate. We will report everything as it is.”
“Alright.” Hameez nodded before staring at the meat once more as he commented, “I guess everyone’s going to have wolf meat for dinner today.”
The guards on either side of Diya al-Dīn’s office stared at him with wide eyes as he approached them. Before he could enter, one of the guards asked, “Are you alright, boy?”
“Huh?” Desmond blinked before looking down at his dirty clothes. Now that he thought of it, maybe that was the reason why a lot of the people turned to stare at him with wide eyes as he ran past them. He patted his clothes, making sure he didn’t have any wolf blood on them which would have been embarrassing.
Seeing it was only dirt that stained his clothes, he sighed in relief before grinning at the two guards looking at him with blank expressions but with eyes gleaming with confusion and concern.
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” Desmond nodded and waved the basket slightly, “Anyway, I’m just gonna give these to the doc.”
The guards glanced at one another before the one on the right nodded slowly, “Very well. I’m sure Diya al-Dīn will let you go after giving those to him. You should take a bath after eating.”
“Sure, sure.” Desmond waved off their concerns and entered the office.
Diya al-Dīn was by his desk and the books and rolled-up pieces of paper seemed to have quadrupled since Desmond last saw them. He raised his head and his eyes widened as he saw Desmond. He stood and walked towards him as he asked, “Are you hurt?”
“What?” Desmond frowned at the question and froze when Diya al-Dīn grabbed him by placing his thumb on one cheek and the rest of his fingers on the other cheek, forcing him to bow his head, “H-hey!”
“You have blood in your hair.” Diya al-Dīn noted calmly and Desmond felt his hand gently carding his hair, “Did you hit your head?”
“No!” Desmond blinked as he realized where the blood could have come from, “Oh! That’s from the wolves.”
“Wolves?” Diya al-Dīn backed away when Desmond lightly smacked his hands off him. His brows furrowed as he asked, “The wolf pack we’d been seeing for weeks? They attacked you?”
“They thought I was after the dead rabbit they wanted,” Desmond replied with a shrug and placed the basket on the same desk that Diya al-Dīn had taken the basket before, “I think they were starving. I noticed it while preparing the meat.”
Diya al-Dīn was quiet for a moment before he said, “It might have been our fault. We did not harm them in any way but we did shoo them away every time we see them trying to take down any of the wild animals near the castle. They must have traveled deeper into the forest but… well… animals don’t usually stay there.”
“That would explain why they would risk being near the aconite patch. Speaking of which…” Desmond hummed as he looked around and grabbed some kind of folded fabric and placed it on top of the table, making sure not to hit any of the glass vials or touch any of the herbs. He frowned as he said, “I had to use a cloth to separate the aconite with the other herbs so we should wash everything first just to be sure they’re not poisoned too.”
“Actually…” Desmond turned to stare at Diya al-Dīn as he said, “We should wash everything anyway. It’s safer that way.”
Seeing Diya al-Dīn stare at him with a pensive look on his face, Desmond tilted his head as he asked, “What?”
“You were attacked by wolves and you don’t seem to be hurt.” Diya al-Dīn noted.
Desmond sighed and looked around. He saw a nearby jug and crouched in front of it as he asked, “Is this clean water?”
Seeing Diya al-Dīn nod, Desmond picked up an empty basin from the table and filled it with water as he said, “I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m not hurt. My entire body is aching like hell and I look like I picked a fight with the ground and got my ass handed to me.”
Desmond placed the basin back on the table and placed another empty basin next to it before picking up a cup as he continued, “Anyway, got you as many as I can for the ones you asked except for the aconite. That one I just got you ten.”
Desmond frowned as he began to wash the herbs first by holding it above the empty basin and used the cup to scoop up water from the other basin to wash the herb as he continued, “By the way, I got them from the aconite patch I found deep into the nearby forest.”
Desmond turned to stare at Diya al-Dīn with a curious expression as he asked, “It is yours?”
Diya al-Dīn stared at him for a moment before he walked towards him. He took the cup from Desmond’s hand and took over in scooping up the water so Desmond could use both of his hands to gently rub the herb as Diya al-Dīn poured the water, “In a way. Khalid was the one who made the patch but I was the one who gave him the seeds.”
Desmond frowned as he said, “They’re poisonous.”
“And that is why we grow them away from the castle.” Diya al-Dīn explained, “Letting them grow inside the courtyard risks them contaminating the other herbs and flowers, maybe even having them overrun the others.”
Desmond frowned, not knowing enough about plants to be sure if Diya al-Dīn’s reasoning was logical. Instead, he focused his question on what he had been curious about the most, “And why are you even growing them?”
“These aconites are not native in this parts and the merchant who sells them asks for such an absurd amount for such a small number of flowers.” Diya al-Dīn glared at the aconite while Desmond placed the newly washed herb on the cloth before picking another herb as Diya al-Dīn continued, “Considering aconites are one of our most promising leads, we figured it would be better in the long run if we just planted them ourselves. As they were not native around these parts, we planted them outside just to be sure they would not destroy any of the other plants we have here.”
Diya al-Dīn began to pour once more as Desmond asked, “But why?”
Diya al-Dīn stared at him for a moment before he asked, “What do you know about the Assassins?”
Desmond slowly turned to stare at him and Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a smile as he stopped pouring and he said, “I would advise you not to say you know nothing. No one would believe you.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a mirthless smile as he turned his attention back to the task on hand and placed the newly washed herb onto the cloth as well before picking another herb while he said, “Yeah, I figured that would be too much.”
Diya al-Dīn began to pour once more while Desmond rubbed each leaf of the plant as Diya al-Dīn asked, “Did you now?”
Desmond placed the newly washed herb into the cloth to dry and picked the next herb as he said, “I heard that the Assassins are in Masyaf. I thought Alamut was… well…”
Desmond shrugged as he continued, “More or less just another headquarter.”
Diya al-Dīn chuckled and began to pour while Desmond rubbed the plant as Diya al-Dīn said, “Hmmm. So… you did come here because of the Brotherhood.”
Diya al-Dīn placed the cup next to the table and asked, “But if being an Assassin is what you had wished to be, why not simply ask? The Brotherhood takes all.”
Desmond frowned and wondered how he should play it. One look at Diya al-Dīn’s eyes and he knew that Diya al-Dīn would not like it if Desmond was to try and be vague. Desmond placed the newly washed herb onto the cloth before fully turning to face Diya al-Dīn as he said, “I’m not sure yet if I want to join the Brotherhood here in Alamut.”
Diya al-Dīn hummed and stared at Desmond for a moment before he picked up the cup once more, “I see. I supposed that was more than you usually give when you answer any of my questions.”
“Is it?” Desmond asked once more before he picked up the next herb to wash.
“Let me ask one last thing though…” Diya al-Dīn asked in a casual tone that immediately made Desmond wary.
“Asking is a free action.” Desmond dryly said as he rubbed the leaves of the herb as Diya al-Dīn began to pour water over it.
“Are any of your parents from Leicestershire?”
Desmond frowned.
Leicestershire.
Why did that sound so familiar?
Leicestershire…
Leicester…
Leicester.
Desmond’s eyes widened as he remembered.
That was the place Maria Thorpe had been born.
“Hhhhmmm.” Diya al-Dīn hummed and Desmond tried to keep his expression blank even though he knew that Diya al-Dīn had already seen his reaction.
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “Aren’t you just an interesting one, Desmond, son of no one?”
Desmond blinked at him innocently as he asked, “I am?”
Diya al-Dīn chuckled and shook his head, surprisingly not pushing him as he said, “Let’s leave it at that for today. You’re done for the day once we finish cleaning all of the plants you’ve gathered.”
“Okay.” Desmond nodded but didn’t let his guard down.
“Oh, and…”
There it was.
Some kind of additional task or maybe even one of his weird prodding questions…
“Do make sure to wash up before you sleep.”
Desmond blinked, having not expected that.
Just… how bad did he smell right now?
Notes:
Detailed Summary:
Desmond kills a pack of wolves in self-defense and he later finds out that a dead rabbit had been their goal and they had targeted Desmond because he was in the way. An unknown bird of prey takes the dead rabbit and Desmond uses the black smoked bomb to ask for help in bringing the wolves back to the village as Ratonhnhaké:ton’s bleed refuses to let him just leave them all behind. He gets the Assassins who come to his aide to bring the meat back to Alamut and orders them to distribute them to the people, forgetting he is not in charge. Desmond returns to Alamut and waves off Diya al-Dīn’s concerns. They talk about the wolfsbane patch and Diya al-Dīn asks Desmond why he didn’t join the Assassins. Desmond tells him he is not sure yet if he would and Diya al-Dīn asks if any of his parents were from Leicestershire. Desmond remembers Maria Thorpe is from Leicester and Diya al-Dīn saw his reaction. They end their conversation there.NOTE: Okay, so a lot of you guys want Desmond to have a pet wolf. He’s already going to get a companion eagle and, at this point, giving him a wolf would be the same as giving him 2/3rds of what Ratonhnhaké:ton can transform into in the Tyranny of King Washington DLC.
So… let’s put it into a vote here in this chapter! Do you want Desmond to have:(a) A Pet Eagle Only
(b) A Pet Eagle + A Pet Wolf combo
(c) A Pet Eagle + A Pet Wolf + A Freaking Bear complete set!If (c) wins… you guys have to promise that you will absolutely suspend your disbelief because of the mental gymnastics I will have to go through just to give him a bear so, really, if you want to be realistic about it, the correct choice is (a) but, oh my god, you guys are going to pick (c) just for funnies aren’t you? Let’s be clear, (a) is the most realistic choice while (b) will already be stretching it. But, you know, you choose whichever choice you want. I’ll tally the votes until… end of March would be a good ending point, I think.
(UPDATE! Voting is now closed! Thank you to everyone who voted! The winner (by a slight lead) was A!!!
Chapter 8
Notes:
Announcement/Head's Up: Next update will be on Monday, March 13, AND it'll be Desmond's birthday so I'll also post other fics to celebrate which include:
- The next chapter of both Beloved Moon and Eagle of Alamut
- The first chapter of the Assassin's Creed x Call of Duty Modern Warfare Crossover that won my tumblr post (that descended in chaos)
- A 10k oneshot of the Leverage AU-type conman Desmond that will serve as the 'pilot episode' as a 'consolation prize' for that one losing the same poll
- Short smut that had been requested for Desmond
Chapter Text
Desmond was dead on his feet by the time they were done washing all the plants he gathered. At some point, one of the recruits (if his stammering and wide eyes were anything to go by) had given them their dinner and Desmond ate with Diya al-Dīn on his desk. They added a bit of herb from his collection which gave more flavor to the stew and Diya al-Dīn kept quiet.
Most probably because Desmond was eating quite quickly that there wouldn’t even be any chance for him to say anything anyway.
In Desmond’s defense, he didn’t eat any lunch.
Or breakfast for that matter.
Huh.
He really needed to make some time for meals.
He’ll start thinking about it tomorrow.
After that quiet dinner, they continued washing the remaining plants in silence as well.
Desmond knew something was up. He won’t believe that Diya al-Dīn had simply stopped his questioning because Desmond was tired.
No.
Desmond had screwed up when he heard the name Leicestershire.
And Diya al-Dīn was probably going to think about what Desmond’s reaction meant which meant that Desmond needed to prepare as well.
Ugh.
Desmond didn’t even understand why Diya al-Dīn was so curious about him. Was it just simple curiosity or was he actually trying to find the truth for the sake of Alamut?
It would make sense, Desmond supposed, considering Diya al-Dīn was the doctor. He would feel a sense of responsibility for the castle’s people.
He also couldn’t dismiss the idea that Diya al-Dīn was reporting everything Desmond did to the leader of the Assassins here in Alamut, ‘A'lā’ Muhammad.
Which only meant that Desmond had to be careful of what he does reveal.
The most important thing was that he must never reveal his connection to Altaïr.
“Hello, Desmond!”
“Welcome back, Desmond!”
“Oh, look how filthy you are, you poor thing!”
“Is it true you took down an entire pack of wolves and gave all the meat away?”
Desmond backed away and was just about to make a run for it but the women in the thermae were already surrounding him. They weren’t touching him but they definitely blocked the only exit.
It was actually quite scary how quickly they had moved the moment they saw Desmond enter the thermae.
“Uh…” Desmond raised his hands up to his shoulders and wondered if it would be considered rude if he was to just gently push them all away from him. Before he could do anything drastic, he heard someone clap three times.
The women in front of Desmond parted and he saw Hilde smiling just a few feet ahead of them. She clapped her hands three times once more before she said, “Now, now, let’s not crowd him. The poor boy looks ready to run.”
He was pretty sure his body was just a few years younger than Hilde at the moment so he wasn’t sure if she should be calling him ‘boy’ in the first place. The women took a few steps away but Desmond was sure they were still blocking his only exit so he gave them all the polite smile he had long perfected as he walked towards Hilde.
Hilde’s red lips curved into a coy little smile as she purred, “Would you like me to accompany you for your stay here tonight?”
Desmond chuckled and shook his head before whispering, “I’d like to take your offer for one of the private baths?”
Hilde’s smile turned into an understanding one and her voice became softer as she said, “Of course, Desmond.”
Hilde turned to look at the women who were all staring at Desmond curiously. She clapped her hands three times once more as she said cheerfully, “I’ll be taking care of Desmond today. Go and talk to our other guests, ladies.”
There was a chorus of ‘aawww’ but most of them began to walk out of the lounge, a few of them taking the time to stop next to Hilde and offer their ‘time’ with him next time. Desmond just gave them an awkward smile, absolutely unsure of the attention he was getting.
Sure, he was used to it as a bartender but there was something super awkward about being flirted at when he was just a freaking teenager at the moment.
He understood that to the eyes of the people at this time, he was already seen as an adult but it still made him feel weird.
And Desmond wasn’t even going to think about his trust issues at the moment.
“Follow me,” Hilde said and this time she didn’t take Desmond’s arm or anything. Instead, she simply turned around and began to walk. Desmond followed her with a small frown.
The lack of physical contact was a bit strange considering how much the women here had touched him last time.
“Uhhh…” Desmond frowned as he asked, “Did I offend you guys in some way?”
“Hm?” Hilde blinked at his question as they turned to the left corridor, “No, of course not. If anything, we’re all very happy with you right now.”
“You are?” Desmond tilted his head.
“You just gave away meat to everyone, Desmond.” Hilde’s lips curved into an amused smile as she led him deeper into the corridor, opening the door at the end and they entered another corridor lit only by flames encased in glass, “I’m sure you’d be receiving gifts from the townspeople tomorrow.”
“Oh. That was… a big deal.” Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized it was absolutely a big deal.
He had simply given away the wolf meat because that was what Ratonhnhaké:ton did with the meat he had hunted near the homestead. It was thanks to Achilles pushing him to start a caravan that would sell meat that Ratonhnhaké:ton had even thought about making a profit over that meat.
Desmond had simply been the same.
“It… it wasn’t a big deal.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he admitted, “I… I guess I’m used to sharing my hunts with… uhhh… my… villagers…”
Hilde’s eyes softened as she said, “There’s no need to try to explain it to me if you’re not comfortable with sharing it.”
They reached the farthest door to the left of the corridor and Hilde opened the door as she said, “We all have our secrets.”
“Tell that to Diya al-Dīn.” Desmond grumbled as he stayed outside while Hilde walked inside the room. The room was dark but Hilde seemed to know where she was going. Desmond activated his Eagle Vision but regretted it immediately when he noticed the two figures three doors to his left.
He blinked to deactivate his Eagle Vision just in time to see Hilde light up a candle that had been sitting on the table. Desmond’s guess of what the real use of this supposed private bath was confirmed when Hilde began to light up two more candles, both of which were on either side of a small hole in the ground.
No.
It was an inground pool that was around the size of a twin-sized bed.
What the fuck.
Hilde placed her hand on the water for a moment before standing. She walked back to Desmond and stood beside him just outside as she said, “The water’s still warm. If you’d like it hot, let me know and I’ll have my ladies bring you-”
“No, no, no.” Desmond waved his hands as he said, “Warm water is fine. I’m even okay with cold water.”
“I heard from the nerds that both cold and hot water work best together for tired muscles but, well, these rooms could only provide one kind of water at a time.” Hilde explained and Desmond’s lips curved into a sardonic smile when he heard Hilde say the word ‘nerd’.
He was seriously hoping the word ‘nerd’ appearing during this century wasn’t going to have some bullshit butterfly effect later down the line.
Although, it would be funny if he accidentally fucked the timeline because of the word ‘nerd’.
“This is fine. Thanks, Hilde.” Desmond grinned instead and took a step toward the room.
Before he could close the door, Hilde asked curiously, “Why did you think that you offended us?”
It took a moment before Desmond realized what Hilde was asking and he said, “Ah. Well… you guys… uhh… didn’t touch me the entire time I was here today?”
Hilde’s lips curved into a coy smile as she purred, “Aawww. Do you want me to touch you, Desmond?”
Desmond simply smiled at her as he said politely, “No, thank you.”
Hilde chuckled and placed her hands behind her back as she said, “I just told everyone to give you some space. I felt how you freeze for a second every time we touch you.”
Desmond’s smile lost all its mirth as he said, “You noticed that, huh.”
“It’s not your fault, Desmond.” She said kindly, “We’ve seen a lot of… people have similar reactions before. We…”
She looked thoughtful as she placed a hand by her chin, “How can I explain it…”
“Like it’s easy to spot?” Desmond suggested.
“Yes. It’s easy to ‘spot’.” She agreed with a nod, “And it helps us make sure every person who enters the thermae receives the care and support they need.”
“And this is the care and support I need?” Desmond asked as he waved his hand toward the dark room lit only by three candles.
Hilde’s face softened as she gently answered, “I believe you need more but I also know that this is the most you are willing to let us help you with.”
Desmond was taken aback by her insight and she smiled as she said, “The doors of the thermae will always be open to you, Desmond.”
“And even if we cannot help you with what ails you.” Her smile softened as she whispered, “We do hope your stay here soothes you even just for a few moments.”
Desmond stared at her for a moment before he said, “Thanks, Hilde. I…”
Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “This does help.”
“And, uh…” Desmond looked at the floor as he requested, “Can I… can I ask that you guys don’t flirt with me? It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Flirt?” Hilde repeated with the tile of her head before she realized, “Oh! You mean-!”
“Of course, of course.” Hilde nodded as she smiled, “I’ll tell the others.”
Hilde giggled as she commented cheerfully, “I’m sure a few of them will be pleased. This whole act can be quite tiring, after all.”
“Thanks. Knowing it’s all fake really gives me an ego boost.” Desmond dryly said.
“Oh, don’t worry. Some of them would be disappointed too.” Hilde cheerfully added, “You are very sweet.”
“Thanks?” Desmond was unsure of how to think about that so he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Anyway, I should take a bath before it gets colder.”
“Of course, of course.” Hilde nodded and glanced down at the small bag Desmond had with him as she said, “You can use everything inside and I’m sure you have clothes in your bag to change to but, if you don’t, there’s also clothes in the chest. If you do use those clothes, we ask that you return them to us during your next visit.”
She raised an eyebrow as she explained, “Failure to return the clothes once will give you a warning. Three times and you’ll be barred from entering the thermae until you’ve returned them and given us compensation.”
“Like a late fee?” Desmond asked as he blinked.
“A late fee.” She repeated before nodding, “Yes, a late fee.”
“Huh.” Desmond nodded, “Good to know. Thanks, Hilde.”
“Enjoy your stay, Desmond,” Hilde said and waved her hand as Desmond closed the door.
Desmond locked the door before walking deeper into the room. There was a basket next to the chest on the right side of the room. Since it was empty, Desmond assumed it was probably the laundry basket. He took off his clothes and placed them inside the basket before checking the chest for any towel he could use. There was a few pieces of fabric that would probably work so he got those as well and…
Huh.
The clothing inside where all simple gray robes. There were no pants though which wasn’t surprising since these robes were probably meant to be simply something people could use if they forget a change of clothes.
Seeing no use for them, Desmond ignored them and simply took out another set of clothes he could use.
Speaking of which, he should really find the time to do the laundry as well. He had stolen about seven sets of outfits and he was already on his fourth set.
Hopefully, Diya al-Dīn would give him a day off where he could just do that.
Or…
Desmond looked at the small inground bathtub.
He could use that instead.
There was even a bucket he could use to scoop water.
Desmond remembered Hilde’s teachings of how the first step was to take a bath using buckets to clean the body. The pools were for relaxing, not for cleaning.
It seemed that this ‘private bath’ was more or less a miniature version of that.
Desmond walked towards the inground bathtub…
And absolutely ignored the large bed on the left side of the room that showed the true purpose of this private room.
The following morning, Desmond was greeted by Diya al-Dīn’s frown.
Not a good sign.
“Uh…” Desmond glanced at the guards who simply looked ahead of them, ignoring Desmond’s questioning glance. Left with no choice, Desmond walked inside the room and greeted politely, “Good morning, doc.”
Diya al-Dīn’s frown deepened and Desmond kept his distance, ready to bolt out of the room if necessary. Diya al-Dīn rubbed his chin for a moment before he said, “We never did talk about what I expect from you as my assistant and what you would receive in compensation, didn’t we?”
Desmond blinked at that.
“No.” Desmond agreed cautiously, “We didn’t.”
Diya al-Dīn sighed and rubbed his face twice before saying, “Forgive me. This is an oversight on my part. I am not used to…”
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a grimace as he admitted, “… being the one to personally hire people.”
Desmond hummed at that but didn’t say anything.
“Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
The question made Desmond blink and he shook his head, “No, not yet.”
“Very well.” Diya al-Dīn turned his eyes toward the guard on the right and ordered, “Have someone bring us food.”
The guard bowed silently before leaving his post, most probably to find the nearest recruit to order.
Diya al-Dīn waved his hand over the same chair Desmond used when they had eaten dinner yesterday, just on the other side of the desk, “Sit.”
Seeing no other choice, Desmond sat on the chair and watched as Diya al-Dīn sat back on his chair as well. Diya al-Dīn took all the paperwork and books in the middle of his desk and placed them either on the left or the right side. As he watched Diya al-Dīn clear just enough of his desk that it would be alright to place two plates, Desmond asked, “So… what brought this on?”
Seeing Diya al-Dīn raise an eyebrow at him, Desmond quickly added, “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate knowing what you expect from me and what I should expect to get but…”
Desmond tilted his head as he said, “I have a feeling you didn’t just realize you were never clear about my job description by yourself.”
Diya al-Dīn frowned once more and the guard returned with a recruit holding a tray with two plates filled with bread and fruits. Desmond stood and took the plates while the recruit whispered, “A-apologizes, sir. The kitchen only had these left but they-”
Diya al-Dīn waved his hand as he said, “That’s fine. We did ask this without any prior arrangement. Tell the kitchen we appreciate what they have given us.”
“Y-yes, sir.” the recruit bowed before leaving the room in a hurry.
Desmond sat back on his chair and raised an eyebrow when Diya al-Dīn placed his own bread on Desmond’s plate.
“I already ate breakfast.” Diya al-Dīn explained before sighing once more. He looked at Desmond expectantly and Desmond broke the first piece of bread into two before he started eating. As soon as Desmond began to eat, the doctor began to speak, “As you are working for me, you are allowed to eat in the dining hall in the main castle. We start the day here at daybreak so I would suggest that you go eat breakfast by that time as well.”
Daybreak?
Ugh.
He was already having flashbacks of Altaïr’s training.
“I had assumed you knew this and had been using the dining hall before coming here.” Diya al-Dīn frowned as he asked, “You… you haven’t been eating breakfast, have you?”
“Nope.” Desmond shook his head as he kept his tone light. He finished his second piece of bread before he shrugged as he added, “Not used to waking up at dawn, to be honest.”
“I see.” Diya al-Dīn hummed as he added his own fruits to Desmond’s plate before continuing, “Unfortunately, Alamut starts its day at daybreak. You must have heard the first bell? Or are you saying you slept through that?”
Realizing he meant the bell that rang from the scholar’s tower, Desmond shook his head as he replied, “I wake up.”
“And I sleep again once it stops,” Desmond added with a grin before he began to eat the fruits on his plate.
“I see.” Diya al-Dīn chuckled at that and shook his head as he said, “Some do the same. Well, if you don’t eat breakfast, I expect you to at least eat lunch and dinner. Unlike breakfast, the dining hall in the castle serves lunch and dinner all day.”
“Oh?” Desmond blinked at that.
“We have different shifts after all.” Diya al-Dīn explained, “And we regularly change our shifts.”
“That sounds… kinda... Not optimized?” Desmond commented with a frown.
“It is.” Diya al-Dīn agreed before countering, “But developing patterns our enemies can study is more dangerous.”
“Ah.” Desmond nodded, understanding the logic behind it.
“Now, for your job.” Diya al-Dīn continued as Desmond finished his plate, “I expect you to work until the sun starts to set. Unless the job I have given you is urgent or I request it to be done on that day, you may finish it tomorrow.”
Diya al-Dīn raised an eyebrow as he added, “Of course, I will be giving you new orders the following day as well so, unless you can truly explain to me that you need more than a day to finish your task, I expect all of them to be done in a timely manner.”
“Got it.” Desmond nodded.
“For your pay…” Diya al-Dīn took out a small pouch and placed it on the desk, pushing it towards Desmond. Desmond grabbed the pouch and opened it, humming when he counted the money inside, “That is your pay for yesterday’s work. And this…”
Diya al-Dīn took out a bigger pouch and placed it on the desk. Desmond warily took this one and his eyes widened when he saw the amount inside. He raised his head to stare at Diya al-Dīn with wide eyes.
“That is for the meat yesterday.” Diya al-Dīn said.
“Uh… I didn’t kill those wolves to be paid?” Desmond said even though his words had a more questioning tilt to them due to his confusion.
“I heard.” Diya al-Dīn sighed once more before saying, “Nevertheless, we must reward you for your services. It was either we pay you or the whole town would be sending you gifts for the next week or so.”
Diya al-Dīn raised an eyebrow as he said, “Although they have been sending gifts since this morning even after we informed them you have been paid for your services.”
“O-oh.” Desmond frowned, unsure of how to feel about that. None of his Bleed’s foggy memories were of any help with this situation as well.
“The gifts are being checked to make sure they are all safe and someone will bring them up to your room by nightfall.” Diya al-Dīn continued before tilting his head as he said, “You look like you don’t like having the attention of other people.”
“I really don’t.” Desmond agreed with a sigh.
“Very well. Then I shall refrain from giving you any orders that will bring you to the town.” Diya al-Dīn looked thoughtful as he guessed, “I will give it a week or so before the townspeople calm down.”
“Thanks, Diya al-Dīn.” Desmond said with a sigh.
“As for today…” Diya al-Dīn stood and Desmond stood as well, following him towards the other table where the herbs they had cleaned were now hanging upside down. Diya al-Dīn turned to look at Desmond as he asked, “Do you remember where we hang the herbs?”
“Near the small garden we have outside,” Desmond remembered. It was a small room just next to the garden and Desmond barely saw it.
“Good.” Diya al-Dīn nodded and waved at the hanged herbs, “Transfer all of these there and check if anything has fallen in the plants already there. Also…”
Diya al-Dīn took a leaf from one of the dry herbs and handed it to Desmond. Desmond took it and grimaced when it easily crumbled in his hand. Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved as he said, “Check all the other plants. If their leaves crumble the same as that one, bring them back here and put them together with the same plants.”
“After that, you’re done for the day.” Diya al-Dīn continued.
Desmond frowned as he asked, “Seriously?”
“I’ve been told that you deserve to rest after what happened yesterday and I agree with them.” Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a smile.
“Huh.” Desmond nodded.
Considering the way Diya al-Dīn worded that, it seemed he wouldn’t necessarily have any day off but he should have time to do the laundry since his work would always be done by the time the sun set anyway.
Although, it would probably be better if he did the laundry after breakfast and before he goes to work so it could dry during the day.
Desmond nodded as he said, “Thanks, doc. And…”
Desmond tilted his head and asked, “Who made you realize this anyway?”
Was it ‘A'lā’ Muhammad?
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a chagrined smile as he admitted, “My wives.”
Desmond stared at him for a moment, observing his expression.
Before finally asking, “They scolded you, didn’t they?”
Diya al-Dīn placed a hand on Desmond’s shoulder and said solemnly, “Women are the most frightening creature in the entire world, my boy. Never underestimate them.”
At the seriousness of Diya al-Dīn’s expression, Desmond couldn’t help but laugh. He patted Diya al-Dīn’s arm as he said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He didn’t notice Diya al-Dīn’s eyes widen slightly.
And Desmond didn’t notice that this was the first time he had laughed so hard ever since he had been transported into this time.
Chapter 9
Notes:
Alright, people!
This update is part of the "Let's Celebrate Desmond's Birthday By Posting Lots of Fics!" which includes:
- Chapter 9 for both Eagle of Alamut and Beloved Moon (both AltDes)
- A short female Eivor x Desmond for The Persisting Pleasurable Suffering of Desmond Miles
- A 10k oneshot that will serve as the 'pilot episode' of con-man Desmond titled The Helios Job
- An Assassin's Creed x Call of Duty Modern Warfare Crossover where the plotline of Modern Warfare II gets an Isu-sponsored makeup and Desmond's bad luck strike again titled The Shadow’s Endgame
Chapter Text
Desmond finished gathering the herbs and other plants that were dry enough that they were ready to be turned into powder.
Or that would be Desmond’s guess on what Diya al-Dīn planned to do to them. He’d probably learn sooner or later anyway so he’d just have to be patient.
After that was done, it was still early for lunch and Desmond was taking Diya al-Dīn’s warning to heart and would be avoiding the town until the whole ‘free meat’ thing became old news.
This meant that he had free time and figured laundry should be his next course of action. He went back to his room and grabbed all of his dirty clothes which he had placed in a separate sack that he had found in the empty closet and…
Well…
It was only as he was walking down the stairs that he realized that he didn’t know where he could do the laundry here.
Thankfully, there was a recruit who looked like he was around twelve or thirteen years old, wiping the windows of the floor below him.
“Laundry?” The boy repeated Desmond's question before his eyes widened as he said, “Oh! I can take care of that for you!”
Which… didn’t seem right for Desmond to do. If the recruits’ chore list was the same as long as the recruits in Masyaf had, the poor boy would probably do Desmond’s laundry during his break.
“Nah, it’s cool.” Desmond grinned as he said, “I have free time anyway.”
“Oh.” The recruit looked disappointed which, okay, was weird, but answered eagerly, “We do the laundry behind the thermae! They have running water there that is wonderful for rinsing!”
“That’s great!” Desmond nodded although he was wondering where the running water was coming from.
Well, one way to find out.
He really hoped it wasn’t like day-old water or something from the thermae.
“Thanks… uhhh…” Desmond tilted his head.
“Zain, sir. My name is Zain.” The young boy introduced himself.
“Nice to meet you, Zain.” Desmond nodded at the boy as he said, “Thanks!”
“Let me know if you need any help!” Zain shouted as Desmond started to descend the stairs, lips curving into a small smile.
Zain’s boyish smile reminded him a bit of Petruccio…
Although Desmond was pretty sure he was simply overthinking it.
“Oh, hello.” The quiet woman who was the only person at the entrance of the thermae when Desmone entered kept her eyes to the floor as she said, “Hilde’s not here at the moment but I can accompany you today if you’re alright with someone like me.”
It actually took Desmond a few seconds to recognize her. It was the way her dark hair had been braided and then wrapped around her head like a headband that made him remember her name, “Maria, right?”
“Yes.” The woman replied in a small voice.
“I just want to do some laundry?” Desmond explained, already feeling a bit awkward.
She raised her eyes to stare at him while keeping her head down as she said, “Oh.”
She placed both of her hands in front of her, right by her stomach, and intertwined them as she replied, “I can do that for you if you’re alright with that?”
“Oh, it’s okay. I… kinda want to do my own laundry?” Desmond said, rubbing the back of his neck as he hoped he wouldn’t offend the quiet woman as he said, “Thanks for the offer, Maria. I was kinda hoping you can point me to where I can wash them though?”
“Oh…” She said once more before nodding and turning around and she said quietly, “Please follow me.”
“Tha-” Desmond closed his mouth and didn’t get the chance to finish thanking Maria as she was already walking away.
Quite quickly at that.
Okay then.
Desmond followed Maria to a backdoor that led outside where there was running water but Desmond had been wrong about the direction of the running water.
It wasn’t coming out of the thermae.
It was going inside the thermae.
To be more exact…
Desmond was pretty sure this…
Aw, shit. Desmond didn’t know what this kind of setup was called.
The water was flowing over what looked like open pipes made of stone and mortar and Desmond was pretty sure that this was part of the seemingly flowing water all over the castle.
Now that Desmond thought of it…
He never did see where the water was originating from, did he?
All Desmond knew was that it was coming from the Shadow’s Tower but he didn’t look around the tower itself to be sure.
The open pipes split into three at the back of the thermae, one going straight into the thermae which Desmond assumed was how the nymphs were able to keep the thermae filled with enough water for all the rooms. The middle pipe continued to what Desmond assumed would be the other parts of the castle while the last pipe leads to a small grated hole in the wall.
Desmond would have assumed that it was a security risk but the castle was on top of the mountain and, if Desmond was correct in his guess on where the thermae was located, that hole would lead to a very steep cliff that would most definitely be slippery as hell thanks to all that water falling down like some kind of mini waterfall.
… that was being used to rinse clothes…
Speaking of which… Apparently, Zain had pointed him to where the nymphs and the recruits do their laundry and Desmond had to repeatedly tell the people there that he’d do his own laundry but he did appreciate their offer.
Then immediately turned to Maria who was still standing next to him and asked where he could find soap or something he could use for the washing because he was an idiot who forgot that he didn’t have anything remotely like detergent right now.
Maria quietly went to the wall just next to the door they had come from and grabbed a bar that felt more like clay than actual soap but Desmond could smell the scent of some kind of herbal-floral mix which he was hoping meant that it was just an old-timey soap.
The private room that Hilde showed him to also had some kind of soap he could use so Desmond figured they would have one for clothes too.
If they didn’t…
Well…
He was going to try if the soap in the private room he had been in would have worked.
He thanked Maria once more and went to work, picking an empty spot a bit further from the recruits doing their own laundry (or, most probably, the laundry they had been tasked with).
It was a quiet, almost meditative affair, and time passed by quickly as he washed his clothes.
Just as he was about to rinse his clothes, he saw a familiar face walk towards him, holding two large buckets.
“Desmond! The doctor having you do laundry?” Khalid asked with a grin as he stopped just next to the grated hole.
“Nah. Got the rest of the day off.” Desmond explained as he waited to see what Khalid was going to do with those buckets before continuing with rinsing his clothes, “Figured I’d do some laundry.”
“Laundry, huh.” Khalid nodded as he said, “Haven’t done laundry in years.”
“That’s because nobody trusts you not to make them itchy again!” One of the recruits shouted without turning back, making Khalid click his tongue and shake his head.
“Do you hear these young children, Desmond?” Khalid bemoaned dramatically as he began to pour the content of the first bucket into the flowing water, ignoring the way Desmond blink when he realized that Khalid was dumping fish innards and blood into the water.
Thankfully whatever water was contaminated with what was most probably waste from the kitchen was quickly pushed out to the grated hole, keeping the rest of the water clean.
Which, Desmond supposed, was the reason why Khalid was dumping them right next to the hole in the first place.
“Young lads today have no manners.” Khalid bemoaned with a shake of his head, making the other recruits snort while he placed the empty bucket next to him and picked up the other bucket, and dumped its content as well.
“You haven’t even had your twentieth winter yet!” Another recruit shouted further in the line. They still continued their task and Desmond was impressed by how they all seemed to have everything synchronized, never rinsing anything when one of the recruits up front was already rinsing to make sure they didn’t get the clothes they were in charge of dirty with the suds and dirt coming from the clothes being rinsed ahead of them.
Desmond had also noticed that they seemed to have changed their tempo a bit to accommodate his inclusion which was sweet of them.
“At least I know what the touch of a woman feels like!” Khalid shouted back as he finished dumping the content of the second bucket.
“Hilde doesn’t count! She’s promised to you!” The same recruit shouted and Desmond’s eyes widened.
He turned to stare at Khalid with wide eyes and Khalid blinked at him before his lips curved into a big grin. He hopped to Desmond’s side and crouched next to him, patting Desmond’s back as he said, “Don’t worry, my friend! Hilde and I have an understanding concerning her occupation as a nymph! And…”
Khalid casually waved his hand as he explained vaguely, “Our engagement is more of a… promise between friends than anything else.”
“Well then…” Khalid patted his knees before standing, “I’m afraid my ‘punishment’ for ignoring my tasks yesterday is still ongoing so I should go before I accidentally summon Oded with my ‘laziness’.”
“Ah, that’s right.” Khalid opened one of the pouches on his belt and handed Desmond a small bottle that Desmond took cautiously, “Accept this as a sign of gratitude for the delicious dinner yesterday… and the equally delicious leftovers this breakfast.”
“Uuuhhh…” Desmond looked at the bottle warily and Khalid placed one hand on his waist as he chuckled.
“Relax, that is something I cooked up based on a certain spice we bought from a traveling merchant years ago. It’s not poison.” Khalid paused for a moment before adding, “Maybe. But it will certainly add a pleasurable pain into your food.”
“Just be sure to add only a sliver of the skin but, if you feel the need for danger, its seed will be more to your liking.” Khalid hopped back to where he had left the two buckets and grabbed them as he said, “I’ll see you around, Desmond!”
The recruit closest to Desmond turned around and whispered, “He won’t be offended if you don’t use it.”
Desmond hummed and cautiously opened the bottle at arm’s length. When there was no sudden whiff of anything ‘funky’, he slowly pulled it closer until…
Huh?
Desmond blinked and took a cautious sniff.
Was this…
Actual chilis drenched in oil as some kind of way to preserve the chilis?
Did Khalid just give him freaking chili oil?
What the ever living fuck.
Desmond truly longed for the day that Alamut would no longer be surprising him.
But today was not that day it seemed.
He had left his clothes to dry on the rope they were using as their clothesline after making sure that the needles he had been given would keep them attached to the rope even if it got really windy.
He was on his way to the dining hall for lunch when he heard someone call his name, “Oh, Desmond!”
It was Zain and he looked a bit winded, obviously having run from the doctor’s tower to find him.
“Does Diya al-Dīn need me for anything?” Desmond questioned.
“Huh? Oh, no!” Zain shook his head before asking as he slightly fidgeted, “But if you’re not busy, could you please come with me?”
Curiosity coiling on his chest, Desmond nodded as he replied, “Sure. Lead the way.”
Zain’s face brightened and Desmond followed him back to the doctor’s tower where… in front of the tower itself was Sayid’s son who still had his arm in a sling, sitting on one of the three gorgeous-looking desks while two recruits were standing in front of him.
“Desmond!” The Assassin with the sling shouted with a smile as he waved his good hand at them, “Zain found you! That’s great!”
“Hey, Rawiya.” Desmond greeted back as he stood a few feet to the left of the recruits, “What’s with the tables? Need help bringing them up?”
He blinked at Desmond before asking with wide eyes, “You know my name?”
“You’re the only Assassin I’ve seen with a broken arm,” Desmond explained with a shrug.
“Ah.” Rawiya nodded as he sheepishly smiled, “I am the only Assassin with a broken arm right now.”
“And the only one who broke an arm trying to balance upside down on his hands in the thermae in the history of Alamut,” Zain whispered to Desmond, making Desmond’s jaw slack at… such a dumb reason as to why Rawiya had broken an arm.
“He was trying to impress a nymph.” Another recruit whispered to Desmond a little louder this time, making Rawiya’s cheeks redden.
“Can we please not talk about my foolish younger years.” Rawiya groaned as he jumped off the desk he had been sitting on.
“It happened three months ago, you big baby.” The other recruit reminded him as he crossed his arms before turning to look at Desmond as he said, “We’re all sure his arm is fine. He’s just faking it to get more pity kisses from the nymphs.”
“I get more than kisses.” Rawiya cheekily admitted with a wink, making the recruits roll their eyes, before turning to face Desmond, “This is what I get for being the newest novice. No respect from recruits.”
Desmond’s smile curved into an amused smile, remembering a similar half-hearted complaint from Khalid.
“Putting aside my current standing in our Brotherhood…” Rawiya stepped to the side and waved his good hand towards the three tables as he said, “Pick one.”
“Huh?” Desmond blinked.
“They’re all in good shape but they’ve been gathering dust in one of the storerooms in the tower.” Rawiya explained, “I’ve been tasked by Oded to lead these recruits in finding new homes for these tables so I figured you’d like one of them. Heard that the doctor gave you the room below the eagles’ nest? That room has been stripped of everything since…”
Rawiya winced as he said awkwardly, “A while now…”
The recruits all looked uncomfortable while Rawiya waved his hand as he continued in a tone that clearly had a more forced cheer onto it than normal, “So I figured you’d appreciate having a desk of your own. No chairs though but I think we can ask the carpenter in town to give you one for free as a thank-you for the meat yesterday.”
“Nah, it’s okay.” Desmond shook his head as he said, “I’ll buy one later but I won’t say no to a free table.”
Desmond took a step in the direction of the tables as he asked, “Can I check them first?”
“Sure.” Rawiya nodded and Desmond walked towards the nearest table.
He knocked on different parts of the table, opened all the drawers, and knocked on them as well.
He did the same thing for the next table and all the recruits let out small gasps when Desmond knocked on one of the drawers before taking off the bottom part, revealing a hidden compartment.
“How’d you know?” Rawiya asked without stepping closer, his eyes staring at Desmond instead of the desk itself.
“It made a different sound when I knocked on it.” Desmond explained, opening a drawer he had already checked and knocking on it three times, “Hear that? Now listen to this…”
Desmond returned the false bottom and knocked on it three times as well, making the recruits let out small sounds of awe and curiosity as Desmond continued, “False bottoms usually make a different sound but they don’t sound the same. They just sound different from the other parts of the same desk or cabinet they’re a part of.”
“Also…” Desmond completely pulled out the two drawers, one with the false bottom and one that didn’t. He walked towards Rawiya and showed him the two drawers while the recruits gathered around them. Desmond handed the drawers to the two recruits with Rawiya as he said, “Hold them.”
As the recruits held the two drawers in the middle of their little circle, Desmond pointed at the edge of the two drawers as he explained, “See how they’re the same size on the outside? This would mean they should have the same size on the inside, right? But…”
Desmond pressed his two point fingers on the inside of both the boxes, keeping them straight and pressing the back of his finger against the inside wall of the boxes, “See the edge of the boxes don’t exactly end at the same part of my fingers? It’s not that noticeable without something inside to compare them but you can see it more clearly if you use my finger as a reference.”
The recruits nodded and muttered among themselves while Desmond took the drawers back as he said, “The only way you can be sure if something has a false bottom is to know how it sounds like if it’s hollow.”
“Or use something to doublecheck the sizes inside,” Desmond added with a shrug as he returned the drawers back to the desk and went to check the last desk.
He did the same test as he had done with the other two before nodding to himself and walking back to Rawiya who asked, “No false bottom then for that one?”
Desmond’s lips curved into a grin as he turned towards the recruits and suggested, “Why don’t we have the recruits check if it does have one?”
The recruits looked eager to just do that but they stopped themselves, turning to look at Rawiya with Zain showing such a pleading expression that Desmond knew he would feel bad himself if Rawiya was to say no.
Rawiya simply smiled at them and waved his good hand as he said, “Go.”
The recruits eagerly rushed towards the third desk and began to knock on it while Rawiya turned to stare at Desmond as he asked, “You going to take the one with the false bottom then?”
“Nah.” Desmond shook his head as he said, “I’ll take the one the recruits are playing with.”
“Huh.” Rawiya stared at him for a moment before saying, “I was expecting you to pick the one with the false bottom.”
“Oh?” Desmond’s lips curved into a teasing smile as he asked, “So you’re certain the third one doesn’t have any?”
Rawiya opened his mouth before closing them, brows furrowing as he scratched his cheek.
“I’m… quite sure?” Rawiya replied but it was clear he wasn’t entirely sure of his answer.
“Then it’s okay if I take it, right?” Desmond replied, watching the recruits as they continued to knock on the dark brown desk with three drawers on each side and a small hutch in front that had three levels. The bottom was three small drawers with the drawer in the middle taking up half of the total width of the hutch. The first level of drawers was only tall enough to fit maybe a hundred-paged hardcovered book. The second level of the hutch had five drawers, with three of them on top of the middle bottommost drawer. Desmond could probably put about maybe two rolled-up parchments in each drawer. The topmost level of the hutch had 10 small arches that were tall enough that Desmond could slip in a wine bottle on each arch but definitely only had enough length to take the neck of a bottle.
Less, actually, as those arches were the ones that had a false bottom.
To be more exact…
The entire back of the hutch had a false side that Desmond was pretty sure he could slide open.
He’d have to check later.
“There’s no false bottom on this one!” Zain informed them and Desmond nodded. The recruits took it as an affirmative to their conclusion and not Desmond just nodding that he heard them.
As he expected.
Instead of saying anything about the danger of ‘assumptions’, Desmond turned to grin at Rawiya as he said, “Besides, I don’t need any false bottoms.”
But he definitely won’t say no to having one anyway.
Chapter 10
Notes:
Hey, guys! So, if you’ve been checking my tumblr, you’d know I have a surgery coming up (it’s nothing serious, I promise). Well, there’s a high possibility that my surgery will be pushed to next week instead of first week of April as I expected. Because of this, there’s a high possibility that there will be no update next week. If that happens, the next update will be on April 4. Normally, I’d have a oneshot and smut for that day since it’s Ratonhnhaké:ton’s birthday but due to what’s been happening this month, I’m probably only able to insert a smut. We’ll see. Anyway, if you don’t see me update next Monday, that means my surgery has gone thru.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Desmond couldn’t believe it but he actually got used to his life in Alamut. For the past month, he had been doing simple jobs that didn’t require him to think further than ‘this medicine is for this one’ and ‘remind them to do this’.
Most of the time, he'd be done with his work before the sun even starts to set and he'd have Zain and a few recruits waiting for him so they can all have dinner together. Desmond loved it mainly because the recruits were more than happy to tell him what they did during their training.
If he happened to give them tips or suggestions, he always made it appear like he was asking them why they don't this or that to seem like he was asking instead of trying to help them.
The recruits never seemed to realize it, which Desmond always found amusing.
It had also become his task to keep checking the small room for any herbs and plants dry enough to be pounded to powder every day and he started doing it before going to Diya al-Dīn’s office. He was also in charge of pounding them and putting them in the correct jar.
He also started labeling them to make it easier for him and even went as far as adding a small drawing on each label so those who couldn’t read would still have an idea of which was which.
Desmond would like to stress that he did this out of boredom, not because he was getting irritated over having to remember which jar was which every time he refilled the jars.
His main job was still to run around Alamut to deliver medicine and that helped him familiarize himself with Alamut and its people.
The whole ‘free meat’ incident seemed to have endeared him to the people which was good and he had received enough gifts to make him uncomfortable.
It was nice that he had more pillows and a secondhand chair in his room now though.
Hell, the Assassin with the fruit stall always gave him one random fruit every time Desmond passed by.
Although, he was pretty sure the Assassin was giving him the ones that were just a day away from being too ripe. It was fine though. Free food was free food.
Life in Alamut was peaceful and, to be frank, Desmond was half-tempted to just spend his years like this.
Being an errand boy was an easy job and it wasn’t an important one so he could just steal some Assassin robes and gear before disappearing when it was time to infiltrate Masyaf to use the Apple. He was already getting friendly with the recruits and novices so he was sure they’d be alright sharing gossip with him later down the line.
If nothing else, he could just eavesdrop on them in the dining hall.
But he also knew that Diya al-Dīn was planning something. That was the only reason he could think of why the older man had stopped interrogating him.
So Desmond couldn’t let his guard down.
Not yet anyway.
“You’re done for the day once you deliver that to Khalid.” Diya al-Dīn said without looking away from the paper in his hands.
Desmond frowned at the glass jar in his hands.
He knew what this jar contained.
Hell, he wrote the damn label and drew the little flower himself.
Aconite.
Diya al-Dīn wanted Desmond to deliver the aconite powder to Khalid.
He stared at Diya al-Dīn for a moment, noting how the stacks of paper in his desk seemed to be ready to devour the entire desk and the doctor himself, before simply nodding, knowing it would simply complicate things if he was to ask why they were even using poison in the first place.
Especially Diya al-Dīn who was supposed to be a doctor.
Although…
That didn’t mean he couldn’t ask Khalid instead.
As he expected, Khalid was in the scholar’s tower once more, doing whatever it was he was doing at the same table that Desmond found him last time. He walked towards the table and greeted, “Hey, Khalid.”
“Ah, Desmond! I’ve missed you!” Khalid exclaimed with a grin and Desmond snorted.
“I’m sure you just missed my delivery.” Desmond raised an eyebrow as he added, “Although I just delivered you whatever that little bottle was two days ago.”
Khalid picked up the same bottle which was now empty and clean, shaking it lightly as he said, “All gone, I’m afraid. And a failure as well, such a shame.”
Desmond frowned and placed the jar of aconite powder as he commented, “I guess that’s why Diya al-Dīn asked me to bring this to you.”
“Oh! Yes!” Khalid quickly grabbed the jar and looked it over without opening it, “Powder looks fine. Good, good.”
Khalid placed the jar in front of him as he looked at Desmond, “A bit funny that you’d be the one delivering this though.”
“Because I’m the one who picked them?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head.
“Oh, well, I suppose that counts as well but I was talking about something funnier than that.” Khalid shook his head as he continued to grin at Desmond before explaining, “The Greeks have two names for this plant. Aconitum which many say comes from the word akon , meaning dart or javelin.”
“They say they used to rub this on their javelin and dart to poison their foe.” Khalid continued as he cleared his table, “Others say that the word comes from akonae because they believed this plant grows on rocky ground.”
“But it has another name.” Khalid turned to grin at Desmond as he explained, “ Lycoctonum … it means ‘wolf’s bane’.”
Desmond stared at him for a moment before snorting. He crossed his arms as he asked, “Are you saying I got attacked by wolves on a plant bed filled with ‘wolf’s bane’?”
“And now the true wolf’s bane has come here delivering this.” Khalid reminded him and Desmond rolled his eyes at the dramatic way Khalid announced it.
“Don’t call me that.” Desmond turned to glare at the other scholars who were staring at them, “And I hope no one would even think of calling me that.”
The scholars quickly lowered their heads and continued whatever they were working on in the first place. The Assassins nearby simply smiled at him before returning to whatever book they were reading. Desmond ignored all of them as he turned his attention back to the cheerful Assassin with a table filled with poisonous material.
“Soooo…” Desmond tilted his head as he asked, “Why do you need all these poisons anyway?”
Khalid, who had been grabbing a pouch from underneath his table, stood once more and grinned as he asked, “Interested?”
Desmond shrugged as he corrected, “Curious.”
“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine first,” Khalid replied with a grin.
“Depends on the question,” Desmond said warily.
Khalid grabbed a Datura and handed it to Desmond who didn’t take it at all, shaking his head as he said, “No thanks. I’d rather not grab any poisonous plant without wearing gloves.”
Khalid’s grin grew as he asked, “How do you know this is poisonous?”
“Because it’s-” Desmond paused and stared at Khalid’s grin for a second before he realized, “Datura isn’t common around here, is it?”
“Not at all.” Khalid placed the Datura back on the tray with the other Daturas as he asked, “So… how did you know about them? Also…”
Khalid tapped the jar filled with aconite powder as he added, “How did you know about this one as well? They’re both not common around here.”
Desmond stared at him for a moment, wondering how he should play it.
Fuck.
Desmond couldn’t think of a good way out of this without completely lying to Khalid.
Seeing no other option, Desmond sighed as he answered vaguely, “My mom- my mother made me memorize the names and looks of certain plants. Datura and aconite were included in that list.”
“Huh.” Khalid hummed before asking, “She made you remember poisonous plants?”
“Mostly plants with medicinal properties.” Desmond corrected, “And some poisonous plants so I won’t mix them up.”
And have a way to poison someone if he needed it.
“Not counting the plants she made you memorize, that’s quite a boring explanation,” Khalid said and the disappointment was clear in his voice that Desmond actually felt a bit bad.
“What were you expecting me to say?” Desmond asked with a frown.
Khalid sighed as he admitted, “I had hoped you would know many poisonous plants to help with my task.”
“What task?” Desmond asked curiously.
Khalid stared at him for a moment before shrugging, “I suppose I won’t get in trouble if I tell you.”
Khalid’s lips curved into a grin as he added, “Diya al-Dīn is quite fond of you.”
“I sure hope so. I like my job.” Desmond lightly said before taking a step toward the table as he asked, “So? What’s your task?”
“What do you know about the Assassins?” Khalid asked instead of answering Desmond.
Desmond tilted his head, unsure of how to reply to that.
Was it a trap?
Was Khalid being friendly to make him lower his guard?
Nah.
Desmond had only known the young man for a month but he could see that Khalid was being friendly because it was the way he was.
But he was also a curious little shit who liked to ask a lot of questions to satisfy his own curiosity.
Desmond sighed before replying, “I know they’re not supposed to use poison.”
“Ah, yes. Rashid’s teaching.” Khalid rolled his eyes and Desmond blinked at the clear dismissal in Khalid’s tone. Khalid placed his hands on the table, careful not to touch anything, as he explained, “Before Rashid decided that his Brotherhood shouldn’t use anything he deems as ‘cowardice’, the Brotherhood used to use a lot of tools for their missions.”
“Of course, Rashid took the books that talked about those tools with him and rumors say he burned them,” Khalid added dismissively while Desmond’s eyes widened.
“He burned them?!” Desmond exclaimed, making everyone on the floor turn to stare at him because of his sudden outburst.
“Allegedly.” Khalid stressed before continuing, “Maybe it’s in Masyaf, gathering dust in his oh-so-wonderful library.”
Desmond highly doubted that. If it was in Masyaf’s main library, Altaïr should have read about it already. The fact that Desmond has no memory of such a thing meant…
Either the situation with his Bleed’s memories was worse than Desmond realized or…
Al Mualim really did destroy those books.
No. There was no way Al Mualim would do such a thing. Al Mualim was a lot of things but he hoarded knowledge. Altaïr’s thirst for knowledge had been something that Al Mualim had nurtured ever since Altaïr had been young. It wasn’t that strange to say that Altaïr’s desire to know everything was something he inherited from his unofficial adoptive father. As far as Desmond could remember, Al Mualim wasn’t the type to destroy such a precious source of knowledge.
Unless…
The books were in his private office?
But then… why would Altaïr not have any memories of them?
He cleared Al Mualim’s office when he became the mentor…
Didn’t he?
Did… Did Desmond actually have any memories of that ever happening?
“And, with the current strained relationship we have with Rashid, we can’t simply ask him to relinquish those books if they still exist.” Khalid continued, bringing Desmond back to the present, “So all we have are vague descriptions about what tools we used to have.”
Desmond frowned and tilted his head as he asked, “I don’t… I don’t get it? If Assassins used to have all these tools, shouldn’t someone know about it?”
Khalid frowned as well and he stared at Desmond for a moment before he realized, “Oh, you don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Desmond asked as his frown deepened.
“I’m sure that Diya al-Dīn will be able to explain this better than me but… Let’s see…” Khalid looked around his table before letting out an ‘aha’ sound. He took one of the daturas as he asked, “What do you know about the history of Alamut?”
“Uhhh… Hassan-i Sabbah developed it?” Desmond replied uncertainly as his Bleed was of no use as well.
Khalid snorted at that and answered, “So, before Hassan-i Sabbah took control of the Alamut Castle a few decades ago, Alamut Castle was already established as a formidable fortress.”
Khalid placed the Datura in the middle of the table. “He took over and founded the Nizari Ismaili state.”
Khalid crouched and quickly grabbed a small basket filled with other white flowers that looked similar to the Datura. He dumped them on top of the Datura as he continued, “And we, the Assassin Brotherhood, were born.”
“Couple more decades later, Rashid took our best and brightest.” Khalid continued and grabbed some of the white flowers on top and placed them a foot away from the pile of white flowers, “People who knew what our predecessors taught us and, perhaps, even the books that talked about their past.”
“Okay…” Desmond stared at the flowers supposed to represent Masyaf before he realized, “These flowers aren’t Daturas.”
“That’s right.” Khalid nodded, “Although they’re also quite poisonous. But…”
Khalid parted the bigger pile to reveal the single Datura as he continued, “They are not the same.”
Desmond frowned as he thought out loud, “So Hassan-i Sabbah didn’t create the Assassins. I mean, he did create the Assassins but he based it on…”
Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized, “The people that were already in Alamut at the time.”
Khalid nodded enthusiastically. He tapped on the Datura as he explained, “Everything that makes us Assassins, the hidden blade, the Creed, we got them all from our predecessors.”
“The Hidden Ones.” Khalid announced, “That’s what our records say they were called. Defenders of the innocents. Avengers of justice.”
“So, the story goes that when Hassan-i Sabbah took control of Alamut and became the mentor of the Hidden Ones, he told everyone that he plans on bringing them to the forefront of history. The older and more traditional members of the Hidden Ones rejected that. Unfortunately, they were a minority compared to those who allied themselves with Hassan-i Sabbah so those who were against him…”
Khalid grabbed the Datura from the table and dropped it into the floor as he continued, “They secretly purged their records to keep their secrets, and… no one knows what happened to them really. Some believe they ran away, or they hid deep underground, or maybe Hassan-i Sabbah had them killed when they tried to attack him and his allies in a suicidal attempt to keep the Hidden Ones a secret. No one is truly sure of the truth anymore. What we do know is, by the end of that little ‘coup’ of theirs, what remains of the information we know about the Hidden Ones is but a fraction. We lost a lot of information back then. Practices, traditions…”
“Tools.” Desmond rubbed his chin as he realized, “They knew how to make poison bombs.”
“A what?” Khalid asked.
“Uuhh…” Desmond frowned as he tried to look for a word that would be more familiar to Khalid, “Poison smoke?”
Khalid’s eyes widened as he asked, “How did you know?”
Desmond pointed at one corner of Khalid’s table as he said, “Gunpowder.”
“Is that what you call them?” Khalid asked curiously before explaining, “The merchant we bought it from called it huoyao .”
“O-oh.” Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized there was no way they would know what ‘gunpowder’ even meant.
Fuck.
“But if you know what that is then it would make sense that you have an idea of what I am trying to recreate.” Khalid nodded before admitting, “Not that I have been successful, of course.”
“Having problems with the poison smoke?” Desmond asked curiously.
“Oh, I can make poison smoke.” Khalid answered with a grin, “Well, I did make a poison smoke but I need to adjust the amount of huoyao I put. The last one… well…”
Khalid’s grin turned sheepish as he admitted, “It was good that the doctor told me to try it outside the castle. The smoke…”
“Spread farther than you expected?” Desmond guessed, making Khalid nod.
“Very far.” Khalid admitted before adding, “No one was hurt, of course.”
Khalid paused before admitting, “Well, I did hallucinate my older brother.”
“Oh, that’s nice?” Desmond said.
“He wants to kill me,” Khalid explained.
“Oh.” Desmond winced.
“Eh, families, what can you do?” Khalid waved it off before continuing, “I figured that I could start adjusting the dispersal radius while trying to recreate the other smoke we have on record.”
“And what's the other smoke do you need to recreate?” Desmond asked.
“All we have is a description. Red smoke.” Khalid answered before sighing, “That’s all I have.”
“I was thinking that maybe they used different kinds of poisonous plants ground into powder and that makes it red.” Khalid explained, patting the jar of aconite as he continued, “So I’ll try making different combinations. Even tried that expensive thing I gave you last month. That one drenched in oil? The merchant I got it from said it came from a far distant land full of-”
“Khalid.”
“Yes?”
“Have you thought of blood?” Desmond suggested.
“Blood?” Khalid repeated as he blinked at Desmond.
“Yeah, like…” Desmond paused.
What kind of blood did the Ottoman Brotherhood use to make their blood bombs?
He… he couldn’t remember anymore.
“Animal blood,” Desmond said instead.
At least, he was sure it was animal blood.
“Animal blood… yes. That would definitely make the smoke red… If it becomes part of the smoke. How can we add it?” Khalid tilted his head as he thought out loud, “Maybe we can dry the blood and turn it to powder?”
“Or put it in a pouch inside the casing and the explosion should make the liquid inside disperse when it blows up?” Desmond suggested although he was unsure if that would actually work.
He couldn’t remember how the Ottoman Brotherhood made bombs anymore.
No.
He still remembered how to make smoke bombs because Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton both made them.
But specialized bombs like blood bombs?
He couldn’t remember them anymore.
Fuck.
“Interesting…” Khalid grinned as he said, “Well, one way to find out!”
He began to walk away from his table as he asked Desmond, “Would you like to come with me?”
“Where?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head.
“To the lower town.” Khalid replied, grinning as he said, “What better way to see if animal blood is the ingredient we are missing if not to test it? We can ask the butcher in town if he has any blood lying around.”
Desmond was pretty sure he didn’t. Blood consumption was taboo around these parts.
“And if he doesn’t?” Desmond asked, already dreading the answer he was going to get.
“Why, I have the wolf’s bane with me! We’ll go hunting!” Khalid exclaimed.
Desmond stared at Khalid’s grin and asked, “And if I say no?”
“Then you will have to live your life knowing you have let a brother die in the wilderness,” Khalid replied with gravitas.
From the looks the scholars and Assassins near them were giving Desmond from behind Khalid, Desmond felt like they would understand if he did just that.
…
This was supposed to be Desmond’s half-day.
He was already thinking about looking around town for any clothes he could buy so he didn’t need to do the laundry every three days.
He was even looking forward to eating in the tavern for once (no offense to the dining hall).
Hell. He was even contemplating agreeing to that game that he sorta-kinda promised Rawiya’s father.
But…
Khalid was planning to do this because of something Desmond said.
So, in a way, Desmond was responsible for whatever would happen to Khalid.
Ah, fuck it.
Desmond sighed.
“Fine. I’ll go hunting with you.” Desmond agreed.
Khalid’s face brightened while all of the faces of the scholars and Assassins on the same floor gave him varying expressions of surprise.
“But!” Desmond exclaimed before Khalid could say anything else, “I want a bow. I’m not going hunting with my chipped knife.”
Desmond knew he just said the wrong thing because everyone’s expression turned to fear while Khalid’s lips curved into a smirk as he said, “Oh… I know the perfect bow you can use.”
Notes:
For those wondering, the idea that red smoke is made of lamb’s blood is from AC Revelations.
Chapter 11
Notes:
Just a reminder that the voting for how many animals Desmond will have in this fic has come to pass! It was a close call, you guys, but A won by the skin of its teeth! (Or perhaps it would be better to say, the skin of its feathers??? *cricket sounds* Yeeaaahh I didn’t think it was funny too XD)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Just as Desmond expected, the butcher in town did not, in fact, have any blood in stock nor did he have any blood to give away.
Desmond didn’t appreciate the disappointed look the butcher gave him and Desmond wasn’t even sure if that look was supposed to show his disappointment in being unable to help Desmond and Khalid or it was meant to show Desmond that he was disappointed at him for not being able to stop Khalid with his sudden interest in animal blood.
This meant that they were going hunting on what was supposed to be Desmond’s freaking half-day (unofficially) which he had said farewell to reluctantly.
And now…
They were sneaking into the Shadow Tower for reasons Khalid only specify as “It’ll be fun.”
To be fair, Desmond didn’t really try very hard to stop Khalid.
He was, maybe, a tiny bit interested in seeing the inside of the Shadow Tower, after all.
Okay.
He was absolutely curious but he never got a reason to go there. Whenever he had a delivery to make and the Assassin was in the tower, the Assassin in question would meet with him in the courtyard instead (which gave Desmond a few minutes to observe the recruits as they trained which was nice).
And now, Khalid was providing an excuse.
Oh, how he would regret that so much.
It had started easy enough…
“Zain, Desmond’s favorite!” Khalid greeted cheerfully as Desmond followed him to the outside of the thermae where the recruits were doing their laundry.
Zain perked up when he saw Desmond and greeted back, “Hello, Desmond! Do you need help with the laundry?”
Khalid rested one hand on his waist and turned to raise an eyebrow at Desmond with eyes gleaming with amusement and fake offense.
Desmond liked to call it Khalid’s sarcastic ‘can you believe how they treat me?’ expression.
Desmond just patted his shoulder twice before smiling at Zain as he walked towards them, leaving the basket filled with the laundry he was in charge of near the flowing water, “No, I’m good.”
“But there is something Desmond needs help with.” Khalid interrupted casually but Desmond could hear a slight urgency in his tone that Desmond realized was because he was about to mess with Khalid’s plan.
So Desmond kept quiet, letting Khalid take over the conversation, as he watched them both.
“We need two sets of the recruits’ robes.” Khalid’s lips curved into a grin as he added, “And we’ll even help out with the laundry for them.”
Zain glanced at Desmond who kept quiet, wondering how Zain would react with such an obviously suspicious plan.
Zain narrowed his eyes at Khalid as he asked, “Are you dragging Desmond into one of your schemes?”
“Calling it a scheme is misleading…” Khalid said instead of answering the young recruit, “I prefer the term ‘plan’. It’s more generic but doesn’t have the same negati-”
“No.” Zain cut him off as he shook his head, “Father told me to not help you in any of your schemes and I’m sure you appealed to Desmond’s kindness to drag hi-”
“We’ll do it if you sweeten the deal.” One of the two recruits that were still doing the laundry piped up from behind Zain.
Desmond immediately recognized him as one of Zain’s friends and the one who prefered lessons of swordsmanship and freerunning than information gathering and stealth. He was probably around Desmond’s current age, give or take two years, and his facial structure and complexion easily marked him as someone from Crusader land. Desmond wasn’t sure which country but he had the same cadence as what Desmond remembered from Maria Thorpe so he was probably from around the parts that would later become the British Empire.
Probably.
“Peredur!” Zain hissed as the dark haired boy stood and walked towards them, drying his hands with one of the red sashes he had been washing.
He nodded at Desmond before turning to face Khalid as he said, “It’s not every day that Khalid asks for our help so…”
“We’re gonna milk it.” Peredur said with a grin, glancing at Desmond as if to ask him if he used the phrase they heard Desmond use once correctly.
Desmond nodded with a small smile, ignoring the fact that he was definitely screwing up the language used here in Alamut.
“So…” Peredur crossed his arms and puffed his chest, an act that would have looked intimidating perhaps but just looked quite endearing in Desmond’s eyes, as he said, “What’ll you give us in exchange?”
Khalid let out a mocked gasp of outrage before turning to look at Desmond as he asked, “Can you believe these children? They’re trying to negotiate with someone of higher ranking than them.”
“You’re a novice so you're just a rank above us, Khalid. The only reason why you’re treated differently from the rest is because of your special assign-”
“I approve of your audacity, young Peredur!” Khalid exclaimed as he cut Peredur's rant.
“Wait, what?” Both recruits stared at Khalid with confused expressions.
“You’re all learning. I’m so proud of you.” Khalid wiped a nonexistent tear from his face before he said, “Alright, name your price.”
Peredur and Zain looked at one another before they turned to look at Desmond as Peredur asked, “Was that a test?”
Desmond kept quiet although he was wondering what the hell did they mean by asking him if that was a test.
“That’s right! Desmond and I were testing you!” Khalid bent his upper body to the side to look at the last recruit who was still doing the laundry as he shouted, “You’re being tested too, Meekhal!”
Meekhal, who was larger than Zain and Peredur but seemed to be around Peredur’s age or perhaps a year older, simply grinned as he continued to do the laundries and replied, “I’ll do whatever Zain and Peredur decides!”
Khalid shook his head as he chuckled softly before turning to face Zain and Peredur once more, “Alright then, name your price.”
Both recruits glanced at Desmond who remained quiet.
What the hell was he even going to say to that anyway???
For some reason, Zain and Peredur seemed to have gotten something from his silence and they nodded at him, much to Desmond’s amusement and confusion.
Dear god.
They really need to learn how to read Desmond.
Although, it would definitely be bad if they do learn how to read him.
They watched as Zain and Peredur rushed towards Meekhal and they all formed a small huddle as they all crouched around one another.
Khalid crossed his arms and took a step to the side to be closer to Desmond before whispering, “They work well together, don’t they?”
Desmond hummed his agreement. From what Desmond could see during the recruits’ training whenever he was nearby, Alamut seemed to prefer to train their recruits to work together most of the time, very similar to the structure of how missions were usually conducted back in Masyaf.
Altaïr’s solo missions had been special cases, mostly because Al Mualim had deemed he was good enough to not need a team.
During his training, he had usually been paired with Abbas and their third member changed quite frequently.
It was sometimes Malik but he and Malik butted heads too often that it was deemed that Malik would only be paired with them seldomly.
Perhaps if Al Mualim hadn’t deliberately pushed Altaïr to be so alone and his friendship with Abbas didn’t-
Desmond tried to stop himself from thinking about it.
From thinking about how Altaïr’s situation wasn’t in ‘past tense’ right now…
Not when Altaïr was already being slowly pulled away from everybody else in their training back in Masyaf.
Desmond needed to… ignore it. Ignore Altaïr’s current situation…
Otherwise Desmond would probably do something stupid like…
All three recruits stood and walked towards them with Zain stepping forward while the two remained a few steps behind him.
Huh.
Desmond wasn’t expecting that.
From the way they acted around each other and their personalities, he had thought Peredur would take the lead.
Then again…
“We have considered your proposal and we have finalized our terms.” Zain said and Desmond was impressed by how professional he sounded.
If it wasn’t for his high pitched voice, Desmond would have thought he sounded a lot like how the doctor’s guards usually sounded whenever they were announcing a visitor.
“Our terms are as such…” Zain cleared his throat before continuing, “Khalid is to treat us in the tavern for three separate days of our choosing.”
“One meal per person.” Khalid clarified which Zain nodded to.
“And Desmond has to come with us and you’re paying for his meal too.” Zain added as he narrowed his eyes at Khalid.
Desmond perked at that.
Free food was free food after all.
“I agree to that term.” Khalid nodded solemnly.
“And you are to help with our chores without sabotaging any of them for the next four weeks.” Zain added, making Khalid frown.
“One week.”
“Three weeks.”
“One and a half week.”
They watched the recruits quickly turned to face one another and start to whisper to each other for a minute before they all turned to look back at Khalid with Zain’s face being void of any emotions although there was a gleam in his eyes while his two fellow recruits were grinning, “One week and you give us two of those loud black smoke balls you and the guards use.”
Loud black…
Oh shit.
Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized they meant the bombs.
Khalid’s lips curved into a grin as he replied, “Two and a half weeks.”
“We approve of your term.” Zain replied as a grin appeared on his face that was as big as Peredur’s grin. Only Meekhal looked disappointed that they weren’t going to get any bombs it seemed.
The three recruits began to divide their workload to count Khalid (and Desmond because Desmond wasn’t just going to sit still while they did all the work) and Desmond turned to look at Khalid who had a small smile on his face.
“So…” Desmond turned to stare back at the excited recruits as he asked, “Were you really using me to test them?”
Khalid glanced at Desmond before asking, “Do I look like the kind of person who would use my friend like this?”
Desmond chuckled as he replied, “Yeah… you do.”
Khalid laughed before he acknowledged, “Well, you got me there. Admit it though…”
Khalid turned to grin at him, “You had fun watching them negotiate for the first time.”
Desmond only hummed, making Khalid chuckle.
“So… what’s the robes for?” Desmond asked even though he already had a good idea of what it was for.
Khalid’s grin grew as he replied, “We’re going to infiltrate the Shadow Tower.”
…
Yeah…
Desmond’s guess had been correct.
And, he had to admit, he was looking forward to it already.
Desmond immediately realized Khalid’s plan when he said “We’ll wait here” and they just stood on one side of the thermae with a clear view of the flowing water, holding buckets only half filled with water on both hands as they wore a set of recruit robes that Zain seemed to have precurred from somewhere else.
Considering the noticeable scent of sweat that clung to the robes, he was pretty sure these robes were part of the laundry they haven’t done yet.
And Desmond was seriously trying not to think about that.
He also didn’t say anything to Khalid because he wanted to see if his guess was correct once more.
And maybe wearing a hood over his head made him feel more comfortable than he had ever been since he had traveled back to this time.
Regardless of the smell…
His curiosity only grew even more when Khalid said, “We’ll follow the next squad that’s on their way to the tower.”
A few minutes passed and a few recruits, wearing the same robes as them and holding buckets, did pass by. They waited for the recruits to finish filling up their buckets with water and make their way out of the thermae before Desmond followed Khalid as they slipped behind them, keeping their heads down as they all ascended the large stairs that will lead to the Shadow Tower.
Desmond was right.
They were using Assassins to blend in.
The training ring was as busy as ever and it was easy to step away from the squad they had been following to a group of recruits holding cleaning equipment. Desmond kept his head down even as he listened in to make sure no one noticed them.
He could hear Oded shouting instructions from the main training ring and the whispered conversations of the recruits they were using to blend in.
Nothing interesting.
Just recruits bemoaning their current cleaning duties.
He saw shadows of birds flying all around the training ring but he dared not looked up, knowing many, if not all of the Assassins, would know his face by now.
He did have a distinct scar on his lips.
Also, considering Alamut had an eagle aviary, Desmond had become used to seeing shadows of flying birds above him since he started staying here in Alamut so he was quite sure they were eagles flying above the entire tower.
When they entered the tower together with the recruits, Khalid immediately turned to the door to the right while the recruits made their way up the spiral staircase. They dropped their buckets and Khalid tried the door but groaned as he whispered, “Locked. Of course.”
Desmond leaned against the wall next to the door to hide what his companion was doing as he whispered, “Lockpick it then?”
Khalid turned to frown at him as he repeated, “Lockpick?”
Desmond sighed and pushed Khalid out of the way lightly as he whispered, “Keep watch.”
They switched positions and Desmond went down on one knee. He took out two slim pieces of metal that he had nicked from the blacksmith in Jerusalem and had been sitting pretty in his secret satchel ever since. He first inserted the bent metal into the bottom of the key before inserting the wavy metal.
Okay.
Maybe they have actual names but Desmond either never actually got their names or his Bleed of Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham, the two proficient in lockpicking, no longer remember their names.
All Desmond knew was that he had to apply slight pressure to the bent metal while he inserted the wavy metal at the top of the lock. Desmond began to apply just a little bit more pressure as he began to use the wavy metal to feel for the pins and setting them at the correct height, adding or easing up the pressure of the bent metal as he go along.
Thankfully, whatever hit his Bleed’s memories didn’t hit the lockpicking skills he had inherited from Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham.
He was going by instinct alone, guided by decades of experience not his own yet truly and completely his at the same time.
And this lock was easy.
Just a minute later, Desmond heard the satisfying click and took out both of the metals, careful not to break it. He returned the metals into his satchel as Khalid started to open the door, his wide eyes staring at Desmond as he said, “You need to teach me that.”
Desmond quickly grabbed the door before Khalid could open it fully as he said, “Wait.”
Khalid tilted his head in silent question as Desmond said, “I’m not letting you in until I know why we’re here.”
“Now you’re asking?” Khalid asked before adding, “When we’re already inside a place that’ll get us in trouble if anyone sees us?”
Desmond narrowed his eyes as he defended, “Well, I didn’t know we were going to sneak into the Assassins’ tower.”
“That’s a weak excuse and you know it.” Khalid commented before saying with a smile, “Besides… you liked sneaking in.”
Khalid’s smile turned into a grin as he waggled his eyebrows, “You enjoy pulling one over the Assassins.”
“I do not,” Desmond stressed.
If anything, he felt disappointed that no one spotted them at all.
What does that say about the current skills of the Assassins here in Alamut that a novice and a civilian (as far as they know) were able to sneak in without any troubles?
“And don’t change the subject.” Desmond said, ignoring Khalid’s raised eyebrow that showed just how much Khalid believed him, “If you don’t tell me why we’re here, I’m going to scream.”
Khalid placed both of his hands on his waist as he challenged, “Oh? If you do that, you’ll get in trouble too.”
Desmond took a deep breath before making his eyes go wide. He made his voice just a bit higher as he stuttered, “I-I-I don’t know anything! I swear! Khalid told me to come with him and-and-and-”
Desmond rubbed the lone tear that fell from his eyes as he whimpered, “I just wanted to do my laundry!”
Khalid gaped at him for a moment before he hissed, “You’ll let me take the fall?!”
Desmond’s kicked puppy dog expression turned into an unimpressed one as he said dryly, “Everything I said was the truth, Khalid. I’m not letting you ‘take the fall’. Since I know nothing, I’m not your accomplice.”
Khalid rubbed his chin as he said thoughtfully, “Ah, the famous fae lie. I’ve only heard about it but it’s certainly very annoying.”
Desmond wondered where he had heard about it.
Was Khalid close to Diya al-Dīn enough for them to talk about Desmond?
Or did the guards talk about him?
Regardless, he wasn’t going to ask Khalid to tell him where he learned of Desmond’s fae lies.
He knew the young man would use it to his advantage.
That was why Desmond simply pressed, “So if you want me to help you… tell me why we’re here.”
Khalid sighed before finally answering, “Fine. You win.”
Khalid knocked on the door lightly as he explained, “This is the armory and we’re here to get the bow you'll be using.”
Desmond nodded and pushed the door open as he said, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Just a tiny bit.” Khalid retorted with a grin.
They both entered the room that…
Okay, there were enough weapons inside to arm the entirety of Masyaf (Assassins and villagers alike) thrice over.
Not surprising, considering Alamut’s size.
But still…
Holy shit.
This was probably the biggest Assassin armory Desmond had ever seen.
There was a loud clanking sound just as Khalid closed the door behind them and an Assassin stepped in front of them, holding a whetstone in one hand and grabbing the fallen sword with his other hand as he said, “I wasn’t sleeping! I’m just about do- Desmond?”
Desmond blinked as he recognized the young Assassin, “Rawiya?”
Notes:
ANNOUNCEMENT:
To celebrate Ratonhnhaké:ton’s birthday today, I present 2 short smut!
One where Desmond gets some pussy loving thanks to the Bleeding Effect and one where Desmond fucks Ratonhnhaké:ton because… I guess I now have a ‘Desmond tops’ agenda this year.
Chapter 12
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rawiya turned to look at Desmond’s left and his eyes widened. He pointed at Khalid while he was still holding the whetstone and shouted, “Khalid! You shouldn’t be here! You’re banned from the armory!”
Desmond turned to raise an eyebrow at Khalid who simply smiled at Rawiya, “Relax, Rawiya. We’ll be leaving as soon as we get my special bow.”
Rawiya’s eyes widened and he immediately stepped in front of Khalid just as Khalid tried to walk towards the wall filled with bows and arrows, “Nonononono. I can’t let you do that! Everyone knows you’re not allowed to take that thing out!”
“Oh? And how are you going to stop us?” Khalid asked with a grin.
“I can take you down,” Rawiya said.
“I’m sure you can.” Khalid agreed before adding, “But what will you do after that?”
Rawiya frowned at the question.
“Will you report us to Oded?” Khalid asked.
Desmond remained quiet to not implicate himself as Khalid’s accomplice to Rawiya just yet.
Also, he was a bit curious as to why Khalid seemed to be trying to guide Rawiya’s answers instead of trying to get him to look the other way.
“That… that would be the proper thing to do.” Rawiya nodded.
“Ah, but then you’d be in trouble,” Khalid stated, making both Rawiya and Desmond tilt their heads at him. Khalid’s face was one of concern as he said gently, “Think about it. How did we get inside?”
Rawiya blinked before he answered with words holding a questioning tilt, “You… you stole one of the keys?”
“We didn’t steal anything.” Khalid turned to stare at Desmond as he said, “Right, Desmond?”
Desmond nodded warily as he answered, “Yeah. We didn’t steal any key.”
Rawiya’s brows furrowed as Khalid turned to face him once more and said, “Think, Rawiya. If we didn’t have any key, how did we enter this room?”
Rawiya’s brows furrowed as he said unsurely, “If you didn’t use a key then that would mean the door was unl- No, I locked it! I’m sure I locked it!”
Khalid took a step toward him as he said gently, “Are you sure you did?”
Desmond let out an almost silent hum as he realized what Khalid was doing.
Khalid continued to speak gently as he pressed, “If you did lock it then how can we be here right now? How can we enter this room without a key if it was locked?”
Rawiya paled as he fell for Khalid’s trap, “Oded’s going to kill me.”
“He doesn’t have to know.” Khalid whispered and placed a comforting hand on Rawiya’s shoulder, “No one has to know we were here. All we ask…”
Khalid glanced behind Rawiya as he said, “Is that you look the other way.”
Rawiya stared at Khalid for a moment before groaning, “Fine. Take it.”
Rawiya stepped to the side just as Khalid grinned. He crossed his arms, which was a bit awkward looking since he was still holding a sword, as he said, “But you better bring it back when you’re done so no one figures out it disappeared during my watch.”
“Of course!” Khalid nodded and crouched down, seemingly looking at the boxes below the rows of bows currently perched on a rack.
Rawiya returned the sword to a barrel that was only showing the handles of the swords inside it before he walked to stand next to Desmond as he asked tiredly, “Did he force you to help him with whatever madness he has planned now?”
Desmond shrugged as he replied, “I’m not sure yet.”
“Aha!” Khalid exclaimed as he took out something that looked like a long bow that was almost as tall as Desmond as he was right now.
It looked heavy as well.
Desmond grunted when Khalid handed him the bow as it was as heavy as he expected it to be.
Before he could ask why he had such a heavy bow, Khalid was already walking back to the box once more and grabbing…
Desmond’s eyes widened.
“Are those explosives!?” Desmond yelled, unable to stop himself when he saw the arrows Khalid was holding. Just below the pointed tip, each arrow had what seemed to be a pouch of some sort and had a small fuse.
Desmond could smell the sulfur coming from them.
“Explosive?” Khalid repeated with a tilt of his head, “The book I read calls these a huojian . It means fire arrow.”
“Uhhh…” Desmond grabbed one of the arrows and looked it over. The smell of sulfur was much more poignant up close and he wrinkled his nose.
Yup.
Definitely old-timey gunpowder.
“A fire arrow would be you wrapping an oiled cloth around the arrow.” Desmond argued as he pointed at the explosive arrow in his hand, “This is a freaking explosive arrow!”
“Freaking explosive arrow.” Khalid repeated before saying with a nod, “I like the sound of that name.”
“This is serious, Khalid!” Desmond shouted, “We can’t just use something like that to hunt!”
“You’re going hunting?” Rawiya asked curiously.
“And you!” Desmond pointed the explosive arrow at Rawiya, “You guys are just keeping these in some box?!”
“Are we… not supposed to?” Rawiya asked in a confused tone.
“No! Absolutely not!” Desmond shouted, grabbing the rest of the explosive arrows from Khalid as he explained, “These things need to be kept in a dry place and they should be arranged in a way that nothing would touch the pouches at all. If you just keep them in a place where other things can come into contact with them, at best it’ll cut the pouch and the powder will fall out. At worst, it might accidentally explo-”
Desmond stopped when all three of them heard someone clear their throat from behind them. They all turned around and their eyes widened when they saw the unimpressed expression of Oded standing by the door.
“Oh shit.” Desmond hissed and fruitlessly hid the explosive arrows and bow behind his back as both Rawiya and Khalid stepped on either of him at the same time he faced Oded. They all stood in a row and even Desmond couldn’t help but join the other two Assassins as they all stood straight with their eyes directed at the ground.
Oded walked inside and crossed his arms as he stared down at the three young men in front of him. He glanced at Khalid and then at Desmond before setting his stare at Rawiya as he asked in a deceptively calm tone, “Would you like to explain why you allowed one who is explicitly banned from this place to keep him away from that bow of his and the doctor’s assistant in the armory?”
“Um…” Rawiya glanced at the two of them and Khalid gave him a meaningful look. Rawiya sighed and raised his eyes to stare at Oded as he replied, “They said they were going hunting.”
“And that gave you permission to let them in?” Oded pressed before turning to stare at Desmond, “For them to take the weapon that destroyed our mentor’s favorite tree?”
“Seriously?” Desmond whispered to Khalid with wide eyes.
“It was an accident!” Khalid whispered back, “I didn’t take into consideration how the weight of the pouch would redirect the arrow!”
Oded cleared his throat once more, making Desmond and Khalid turn to look at the ground once more.
“That weapon is dangerous and-” Oded turned his eyes in Khalid’s direction as he continued, “There is a reason why it’s kept here under lock and key.”
Rawiya winced at that and Desmond honestly felt sorry that Khalid made him believe that it was his fault that Khalid and Desmond got inside.
He couldn’t say anything about that, not in front of Oded anyway, so he did the next best thing.
“About that…” Desmond raised his head and presented the bow and explosive arrows to Oded as he said, “Here. I have no plans on using it anyway.”
“Desmond!” Khalid exclaimed with a tone that sounded more like Desmond had betrayed him and handed Oded Khalid’s life in exchange for his own survival.
Desmond glared at Khalid as he hissed, “We’re going hunting, not destroying some innocent tree!”
“It was an accident!” Khalid exclaimed.
Oded cleared his throat again and both Khalid and Desmond lowered their heads and became quiet once more. He took the bow and arrows from Desmond as he said, “As it’s clear Khalid did not inform you of his plans beforehand and you returned these without any…”
Oded glanced at Khalid before continuing, “Protest…”
Oded turned his attention back to Desmond once more as he continued, “You will not be punished.”
“Thank you,” Desmond said with relief coating his words.
“As for the two of you.” Oded glared at the two Assassins on either side of Desmond. Oded faced Khalid first and ordered, “The mentor will be informed of this incident.”
Khalid sighed in resignation.
“And you are to give your favorite bow to Desmond.” Oded continued.
“Wha-” Khalid’s eyes widened at that.
“You are requesting Desmond’s help in this little hunting trip of yours yet, instead of providing him with a bow as he requested, you decided to trick him into helping you retrieve this.” Oded waved the modified bow in his hand, “That is not how we treat our brothers, Khalid.”
Khalid sighed once more but did not object, “Fine. I’ll… I’ll give Desmond my favorite bow.”
Oded nodded before turning to Rawiya, “As for you, Rawiya.”
“Y-yes, sir.” Rawiya gulped.
Oded raised an eyebrow as he said, “I believe you were complaining on how boring your current task is? Well then, rejoice. I have a new task for you.”
Oded nodded at Desmond as he ordered, “You are to accompany Desmond and Khalid on their little hunting trip.”
“Oh.” Rawiya blinked.
Huh.
Even Desmond realized that wasn’t as bad as he expected.
“And since Desmond is with you…” Oded’s lips curved into a smirk as he added, “I’m sure the three of you can hunt enough meat for the entire town once more.”
Desmond takes everything back.
Oded was the devil.
Desmond now understood why Khalid’s punishment was for him to give his favored bow. It was a light bow with a shape that reminded Desmond too much of antlers that he wouldn’t be surprised if it was actually made of them.
Probably not.
That sounded too strange even for Desmond.
But it certainly was shaped like antlers which meant it was eye-catching.
Desmond didn’t like it on that principal alone.
“I’ll return this to you after we finish our hunt,” Desmond said as the three of them rode out of Alamut in horses that Rawiya procured them.
One of which was the same horse Desmond had stolen in Jerusalem.
Nice to know the sweet mare was being treated with proper care.
“Probably better not to risk it.” Khalid said as he shook his head, “If Oded learns you return it to me, he’ll find a more annoying punishment for me.”
Desmond raised an eyebrow at Khalid’s choice of words but didn’t call him out for using the word ‘annoying’. Instead, he said, “But this is important to you…”
“Aawww, aren’t you nice?” Khalid grinned at him before asking, “Want to know why I favored that bow?”
“It’s the lightest bow you have?” Desmond guessed before adding, “Or maybe sentimental values?”
“Sure, sentimental values would be close.” Khalid shrugged before answering with a grin, “I stole it from my older brother.”
Desmond blinked at that.
That felt like a little bit too much of a soap opera level kind of drama for Desmond and he seriously didn’t want to hear anything else.
“Do you have any ideas where to go for the hunt, Desmond?” Rawiya, thankfully, asked as he turned a bit to face them.
Desmond frowned as he replied, “I thought you were leading us to where we can hunt?”
Rawiya tilted his head as he asked, “Why would I know where we can hunt?”
“Uuuhh…” Desmond pointed at his horse who was walking ahead of Desmond’s and Khalid’s horses, “You’re the one in front?”
“Oh! No. I just… Uh…” Rawiya glanced at Khalid who grinned at him before sighing, “I just thought being in front would offer you more protection since Oded’s orders meant I have to protect the two of you.”
Rawiya pulled the reins of his horse so it would stay still until the other two horses caught up. They all began to walk in a line as Rawiya said, “I don’t know any hunting grounds nearby.”
“Seriously?” Desmond blinked before pulling the reins of his horse so that it would completely stop. His hunting companions did the same and they stared at Desmond as he asked, “Do any of you have any experience in hunting at all?”
“Not at all.” Khalid replied before casually saying, “I’m from Tadmur. Never found a reason to learn to hunt growing up.”
Khalid grinned as he teased Rawiya, “But I hear lords hunt as hobbies so perhaps our dear little lord has experience?”
Rawiya snorted before informing Desmond, “I’m not a lord or anything. That’s just what Khalid calls anyone whose had Assassin ancestors. And I don’t count, by the way. I’m adopted.”
“Blood means nothing to us,” Desmond said in a tone more reminiscent of Altaïr than his own. They both stared at him but he simply shook his head before turning to face Khalid, “Tadmur is in al-Sham, isn’t it?”
Khalid’s lips curved into a smirk as he said, “That’s right. If you’re wondering why I’m here in Alamut instead of being one of Al Mualim’s soldiers, my older brother wanted me dead so Al Mualim sent me to Alamut when I was a child.”
“To protect you?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head.
“It was a death sentence.” Khalid snorted before he saw the confused frown on Desmond’s face and he blinked as he realized, “Oh. You don’t know.”
Desmond tilted his head further to silently ask what Khalid meant and the young man asked, “You know that everyone in al-Sham and the surrounding cities and villages believe that Masyaf is the seat of the Brotherhood, right? That Al Mualim is the leader of the Assassins?”
“Yeah.” Desmond nodded.
“Did you also hear that Alamut is supposed to be ‘in dire need of repairs and guidance’?” Khalid asked dryly.
“Yeah. But it’s-” Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized, “Al Mualim spread those lies?”
“He told his Assassins that.” Khalid answered, “I remember how big my brother’s smile had been the night he told me I was being transferred to Alamut. He took the time to tell me all the horror stories the Masyaf Assassins heard of Alamut.”
Khalid shrugged as he added, “I’m sure that some of the more horrific ones were stories that other Assassins made up to scare their brothers or perhaps something that got stranger the more times they were told by other people but, yes, Al Mualim does like to say Alamut is ‘in dire need of repairs and guidance’.”
“Not that we did anything to dissuade those rumors though.” Rawiya added and Desmond turned to stare at him, “We were told to just stay quiet if anyone asks about Alamut. At most, we were allowed to say ‘why don’t you visit and find out?’ but we’re not allowed to contradict them.”
“Why not?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“Because it keeps Alamut safe.” Rawiya answered solemnly, “With everyone's attention in Masyaf, Alamut is relatively peaceful. Of course, it helps that the Crusaders’ and the Saracens’ attention is on Jerusalem and its neighboring cities and villages but Al Mualim and his little kingdom are the ones keeping us safe from the Christians’ attention. This is the longest peace Alamut has had since our war with the Seljuk.”
“You’re using Masyaf as cover.” Desmond realized. He couldn’t help the way he tightened his hold on the reins as he stressed, “This peace comes at the cost of the lives of many Masyaf Assassins.”
“Their blood is not in our hands, Desmond.” Rawiya reasoned, “Masyaf’s importance in the minds of the Crusaders and the Saracens lies in Al Mualim’s hands. We are simply doing what we can to not be pushed into the same light as the Masyaf Brotherhood.”
“If it means pretending that Alamut had fallen from grace then so be it.” Rawiya continued.
“We should leave such heavy subject at that.” Khalid commented before Rawiya or Desmond could speak any further, “Not to mention, we’re not exactly high up the hierarchy for this kind of talk. If you want to complain about how Alamut is run, complain to the mentor, not us.”
Desmond grimaced as he said, “I’d rather not.”
The shadow of a large bird flew passed them and both Rawiya and Khalid raised their heads as Khalid asked, “Think it’s here because we’ve been standing here for too long?”
Rawiya squinted his eyes as he commented unsurely, “Probably not?”
Desmond raised his head and saw the large bird circling around them thrice before letting out a loud cry. It circled around them once more before flying to their west. Khalid lowered his head to look at the direction that the bird was flying to, “I think that leads to the forest where there are supposed to be wild goats.”
“Wild goats would be good,” Desmond commented.
“And they’re not wolves,” Rawiya added.
Desmond smirked as he said, “They’re still dangerous.”
“But probably less dangerous than wolves, right?” Rawiya asked. When Desmond just continued to smirk, he repeated in a higher tone, “Right?”
“Come on. We’re burning daylight.” Desmond said instead as he ordered his horse to walk once more. The two of them followed Desmond before Desmond said, “One of you needs to lead the way. I’m not familiar with these roads yet.”
“Right. I’ll do it!” Rawiya replied and his horse began to trot so it could go ahead of them as he said, “I’ve been to many patrols around these parts. I can lead the way.”
“Thanks, Rawiya,” Desmond said with a smile before turning towards Khalid. Khalid turned to face him as well and tilted his head.
“You said that sending you to Alamut was a death sentence.” Desmond reminded him, “What did you mean by that?”
Khalid stared at him for a moment as they reached a fork in the road and took the road leading further west. Khalid turned to face the road once more as he answered, “I’m not sure if the Masyaf Brotherhood as a whole believes it but my brother told me that the Assassins ‘left’ in Alamut are those who grew up in or near Alamut and those who were banished from the Masyaf Brotherhood.”
“If they even get to Alamut,” Rawiya commented without looking back.
“That too.” Khalid nodded at Rawiya’s words before turning to face Desmond once more as he explained, “Most of the time, we receive the messages from Masyaf about someone coming to Alamut too late. Either they’re already in Alamut by then or… they got into an unfortunate ‘accident’ along the way. Whether it’s by the hands of the Crusaders, the Saracens, a wild animal attack, bandits, or… simply nature being cruel… well. A lot can happen on the road.”
Desmond frowned as he asked, “Do you guys think Al Mualim wanted them to die before reaching Alamut?”
“Probably not all of them. Maybe some of them he was thinking ‘I’ll leave it to fate’. Who knows what that old man is truly thinking?” Khalid shrugged before explaining, “But there’s truly no reason for them to be traveling alone anyway. Take me for example.”
Rawiya led them to a smaller less traveled road that went downhill as Khalid continued, “We waited until Alamut sent two Assassins to serve as my guide and guards. Of course, he can’t just send me on my own since I was a child but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have done that for everyone he sends to Alamut. Don’t you agree, Rawiya?”
Rawiya turned slightly to say, “Of course if we receive any requests to guide a fellow brother back here, we’ll accept them.”
“See?” Khalid said as Rawiya turned around once more, “While we cannot, for certain, truly say that being sent to Alamut is a death sentence, it’s still too strange that Al Mualim doesn’t just request we escort them back to Alamut anyway.”
“That is… fishy,” Desmond muttered with a frown.
Was it possible?
Did Al Mualim plan that any person to be sent to Alamut to die along the way?
It seemed too much for someone like Al Mualim.
Then again, Desmond’s impression of Al Mualim was mainly from what he remembered from Altaïr and, as this little trip of theirs has proven, Altaïr’s memories were…
They weren’t false.
They were… corrupted.
Corrupted by Al Mualim’s indoctrination.
Which sucked because this meant that Desmond had less knowledge of this time than he actually thought.
“I think it’s time you talk about yourself, Desmond.” Khalid commented with a boyish smile, “It’s not fair that we’re the only ones talking about ourselves.”
Desmond snorted as he argued, “You weren’t really talking about yourselves. You were talking about the Brotherhood as a whole.”
“Ah, that’s not exactly true now, is it?” Khalid’s face was full of sorrow that Desmond immediately knew he was full of shit as he said dramatically, “I told you about my strained relationship with my brother and Rawiya-”
Rawiya turned around to blink at them as Khalid continued, “Told you about his sad story of being adopted.”
Rawiya frowned as he said, “It’s not a sad story. They’re my real family and I lo-”
Khalid cleared his throat and stared at Rawiya with wide eyes as he nudged his head in Desmond’s direction.
Rawiya stared at Khalid for a moment before saying, “Oh, yes. It’s a very sad story. Yes.”
Desmond let out a soft chuckle and shook his head. With a little amused smile, he said, “Fine.”
The sun’s light was warm and there was a slight breeze that kept them cool. The horses’ pace was slow and relaxing.
And…
He honestly enjoyed talking to Rawiya and Khalid.
They were weird, sure, but all Assassins were weird one way or another.
And the topics of their conversations were serious but, at the same time, it was…
Uncomplicated.
It was normal for Assassins like them.
So Desmond closed his eyes as he admitted, “I’m not an orphan.”
Desmond opened his eyes and raised his head to look up at the blue sky, seeing the large bird circling around them, perhaps seeing a prey close by, or perhaps it knew that they were planning to hunt and were waiting for a chance to strike their prey as well.
His lips curved into a mirthless smile as he continued, “Dad… my father… he wanted me to be something… something I didn’t want to become so… I ran away.”
“To not be that something?” Rawiya asked softly.
“Nah.” Desmond shook his head and his lips became more melancholic, “I mean… Not at first, sure, but now… I want to be that something. Just…”
He stared ahead with determination in his eyes as he answered, “I plan to be that something on my own terms.”
Desmond’s grip on his reins tightened as he said solemnly, “Not his… not anyone’s.”
Notes:
How historically correct is explosive arrows?
It’s sorta historically correct. Explosive arrows (although they were called fire arrows back then) have been recorded as far back as 900 in China. How historically correct would it be that the Assassins would have an idea of it back in the 12th century? Eivor had it in AC Valhalla so one can argue that Hytham would have been privy to it during his stay in Ravensthorpe.
Chapter 13
Notes:
Uuuhhh… there’s a hunting trip on this one but I tried not to be overly descriptive on what happens to the preys. If you still believe it’s too descriptive, do let me know and I will edit the notes to include a warning.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When they reached the entrance of the forest, Desmond couldn’t help the small frown that appeared on his face.
“Something wrong, Desmond?” Khalid asked in a light tone but Desmond could see the way he had become slightly more alert of his surroundings.
“I’m not sure yet,” Desmond replied as he looked around.
There was something about this forest that seemed…
Familiar.
Desmond tilted his head as he turned to look back at Khalid and Rawiya as their horses walked deeper into the forest.
“Is this forest connected to the forest with the aconite bed?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“You noticed already? We just passed the entrance, that was quick.” Khalid commented before nodding, “Yes. We’re on the other side of the forest.”
Khalid looked around before pointing to their right, “It should be around that part, on the other side of the forest.”
Desmond scratched his cheek as he noted, “Huh. I guess I went this way on my way back then.”
Both of them turned to look at him with furrowed brows as Rawiya asked, “How’d you get in the forest if not from this side?”
Desmond glanced to the mountain on their right where Alamut Castle had been founded on.
To be more exact…
He glanced at the tall tree that was slightly poking out of the mountain.
The very same tree that he had used to get a better view of his surrounding underneath.
And the very same tree that he had taken a leap of faith from to reach this forest.
Desmond just shrugged as he replied vaguely, “I fell.”
Rawiya and Khalid glanced at one another while Desmond looked over where they were right now, “I think this is a good enough place.”
Rawiya and Khalid followed Desmond’s lead and got off their horses and guided them toward a sturdy-looking tree that was just a few feet from the entrance of the forest. They tied the reins of their horses against the tree as Rawiya asked, “Is it better to hunt on foot?”
“In a forest? Yeah.” Desmond nodded, leaning on what he remembered from his Bleed as he explained, “If it was an open field, it would be better to stay on horses so we can chase our prey but forests as dense as this? It’s better if we go on foot.”
“Actually…” Desmond raised his head to check the trees and rubbed his chin as he said, “Might be better if we were to stay on top.”
“We’ll follow your lead, Desmond.” Khalid said as he placed a hand on his waist, “You’re the expert.”
Desmond nodded, “Okay then. You guys know how to use the trees?”
“Use… the trees?” Rawiya repeated as he tilted his head with a curious expression on his face.
Desmond grinned as he said, "I'll show you. I'm sure you guys can keep up."
Every Assassin has their strengths and weaknesses.
… Well, most Assassins anyway.
Although Desmond was definitely not the right person to talk about any of the Assassins whose memories he had relived. He was biased to the core when it came to those three but observing others had been something of a pastime that Desmond had developed.
So it only took him this hunting trip to notice some things about the two young men accompanying him.
Rawiya had an easy time learning how to freerun using the branches while Khalid needed a few more tries before finally being able to freerun well enough without losing his footing.
Desmond was impressed. He didn’t expect either of them to already be this adept in such a short amount of time.
He had expected them to do well enough to not fall at most.
Then again, Alamut Castle was filled with scaffoldings and other items that could hone an Assassin in freerunning. What was more was the fact that the castle’s long history was shown in its entirety, giving rise to certain parts that were specifically made to teach Assassins how to climb properly.
It was like the castle itself was created to facilitate the growth of the Brotherhood.
Or, Desmond supposed, it had been created to facilitate the growth of the Hidden Ones.
It wasn’t just freerunning that Desmond was able to check.
There were no wild goats but they did find a herd of deers native around these parts.
He did have to point at one of them and dryly ask Rawiya if he thought that a deer was a goat.
“I said it was a rumor!” Rawiya groaned and rubbed his red face, “Maybe the one who started the rumor didn’t know the difference between a deer and a goat?”
The way Khalid simply patted his back and said nothing seemed to just further embarrass Rawiya and Desmond could understand why. Even Khalid’s way of patting the back seemed more patronizing than simply trying to be supportive. His smile did not help his case at all.
Desmond had to tell them to stay focused on the task at hand and, just as they explained, they didn’t have any real experience hunting preys but they had been trained in archery.
Khalid showed more potential between the two of them, being able to hit farther than Rawiya without sacrificing his accuracy. His posture also changed once he held the bow in his hands and Desmond could see the Assassin Khalid hid behind his smiles and playfulness. Rawiya wasn’t a bad archer by any means. Desmond would say he was good enough and he certainly had the knack for improvisation.
They had found a herd of six and Desmond took one down while Khalid and Rawiya took one each. That led to the other three deers to run and they gave chase, freerunning above them to try and keep up.
Rawiya had improvised on the fly and jumped down, performing a frankly amusing aerial assassination, on one of the deers.
He managed to take it down but it meant that he was going to waste precious time to get off the deer and either climb back or chase them on foot.
Desmond and Khalid took another shot at the deer as they jumped from one branch to another but their lack of communication meant they both targeted the farther deer, letting the last deer run away.
That was when he saw a flash of dark brown slam the deer’s leg.
They watched a wolf pup, smaller than what Desmond remembered seeing from Ratonhnhaké:ton’s memories gnawed on the deer’s leg. Its small stature meant all it could do was cripple the deer but the wolf pup looked so pleased with itself even after the deer kicked it away, making it let out a yelp of pain.
The runt simply shook its fur and watched as the deer limped away, tail wagging excitingly as it let out a small howl before running after the limping deer.
“Don’t attack the pup,” Desmond ordered as both he and Khalid nocked another arrow to their bow and aimed at the limping deer as the pup chased it, nipping at its legs.
Before either of them could let their arrow fly, there was a much larger blur of dark brown that tackled the deer.
“Oh, shit!” Rawiya shouted and quickly climbed the trees as they all watched a large but thin dark brown wolf take their kill, making the pup let out another howl as it energetically rushed towards the wolf.
The wolf raised its head in their direction even as it kept its maws on its prey’s neck, letting out a warning growl.
“Think they’re part of the wolf pack last month?” Khalid asked curiously as he kept his aim at the wolf.
Two more pups stumbled out of the bushes, sharing similar fur coats as the wolf and the pup but they were definitely bigger than the pup that had tried to kill the deer.
A runt.
The courageous pup was a runt.
And they were definitely skinnier than normal.
“Aawww, it’s a mama wolf and her pups.” Khalid said in amusement before glancing at Desmond, eyes going wild for a second, before he said, “Oh.”
Desmond lowered his bow and returned the arrow to his quiver. Khalid copied his movements but remained quiet as Desmond stared at the growling mother and the three pups around him.
The runt turned to face them and let out a small yipping sound that made Rawiya chuckle.
“Such mighty lungs you have, little one,” Rawiya commented with a grin.
“Let’s go,” Desmond ordered and turned around. The two Assassins followed him, trying to copy the way he effortlessly freeran using the branches.
When they passed not only the deer that both Desmond and Rawiya shot at but also the deer that Rawiya had assassinated from the air, Rawiya couldn’t help but ask, “Are we leaving them?”
Desmond didn’t answer until they had returned to the three deers that they had killed earlier, “We’ll see. If you guys can skin and prepare the meats of these ones fast enough, we’ll take them as well.”
Rawiya frowned as he asked, “Isn’t the proper way to hunt be to gather first then-”
“And if that mother wolf and her pups just so happen to take our other kills then that only means we were not fast enough in preparing these ones,” Khalid commented loudly, cutting off Rawiya.
“Oh.” Rawiya rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “They probably need it more than us.”
“Feeling guilty?” Khalid asked curiously and they took out their daggers when they saw Desmond take out his chipped dagger as he kept forgetting to buy a new one.
“What for?” Desmond asked as he turned to look at Khalid, “I took down her pack in self-defense. The only reason she didn’t join them was most probably because she had been safe in their nest or something, taking care of the pups. If she had been there…”
Desmond didn’t continue what he was going to say. He shook his head and said instead, “If I see someone or something in trouble and I know I can help, I will.”
“She didn’t try to attack us and she was only protecting her kill.” Desmond rubbed the back of his head as he tried to reason, “It’s her kill.”
Remembering the audacious little runt that tried to take down an adult deer, Desmond corrected, “Their kill.”
“Maybe this will give her enough energy to stay alive. Maybe it won't. But at least…” Desmond looked at the sky where an eagle was flying over them as he said, “I gave her a chance.”
Desmond closed his eyes as he said, “They all have a chance.”
“I heard you had an eventful day yesterday.” Diya al-Dīn said casually the moment Desmond entered his office the following day, holding in his hands the daily batch of herbs and plants dry enough to be pounded to powder.
Desmond groaned and walked towards the table that he had deemed as the medicine table. He was sure there was a better word for it but Desmond didn’t know it and he was too lazy to ask. He placed a clean dry cloth on the empty part and carefully placed each herb and plant on top as he said, “You can say that.”
“The deer and goat meats were both wonderful, by the way. Thank you.” Diya al-Dīn said as he continued to write something in his ever-growing pile of paperwork and books.
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he remembered Rawiya’s triumphant “I told you there were wild goats here!” when their next prey had been four wild goats after they had finished skinning and preparing the meat of the deers (and the other three kills had ‘mysteriously’ disappeared).
At that point, their horses were definitely feeling the additional weight and they made their way back to the castle, guiding their horses on foot.
… because none of them thought of getting a freaking cart.
“They’re good because they were cooked well.” Desmond commented, “If you’re going to say thank you to anyone, it should be the cooks.”
“I’m sure they were happy as well, being able to cook with such a fresh kill.” Diya al-Dīn replied and Desmond could hear the sound of Diya al-Dīn’s quill pen moving against the paper.
“Did you enjoy hunting with Rawiya and Khalid?” Diya al-Dīn asked and Desmond’s lips curved into a smirk as he grabbed the heavy pestle and mortar.
He took a dry cloth and wiped the pestle just to be sure before picking up the first batch of plants he was going to ground to powder as he answered, “It was fun teaching them how to skin and prepare their kill.”
“It must have been quite an experience for them.” Diya al-Dīn noted.
“They’re surprisingly squeamish.” Desmond noted as he plucked the leaves, dropping them into the pestle, “Have they not been given their first mission yet?”
“They have.” Diya al-Dīn replied, “Although I’m sure they were uncomfortable with the skinning and cleaning of the carcass, not the kills themselves.”
Desmond was quiet for a moment before agreeing as he began to pound the first few leaves, “I guess so.”
A comfortable silence descended upon them as Desmond continued to ground the dry leaves. It was a task that he had gotten used to. It was honestly quite relaxing. A kind of meditation that kept his mind still and-
“Do you not wish to see the mentor?”
Desmond wanted to groan.
He just got over the idea that ‘A'lā’ Muhammad was the mentor of the Assassins here in Alamut, not just some kind of leader like how Al Mualim described him according to Altaïr’s foggy memories.
Leave it to Diya al-Dīn to add a little complication to this peaceful day. Desmond placed the powder in its proper jar before filling the pestle with water from the nearby jug as he replied, “Not really.”
“And if I was to tell you that you do not have a choice?” Diya al-Dīn asked casually, finally making Desmond turn to frown at him.
“Why would the mentor of the Assassins want to meet me anyway?” Desmond asked although he knew it would happen sooner or later anyway.
He was probably going to be recruited because of his hunting skills alone.
And Desmond was thinking of saying yes anyway.
He needed more information about the true reach of the Assassins in Alamut.
But that didn’t mean he was just going to say ‘oh, yes, please, thank you’ to ‘A'lā’ Muhammad.
Diya al-Dīn stopped writing and raised his head to stare at Desmond as he asked, “Khalid has told you about our history, did he not? Of how we came from the ashes of the Hidden Ones.”
“He didn’t say it that dramatically but yeah.” Desmond nodded wondering where Diya al-Dīn was going with the question and if Khalid had reported to the mentor about their conversation and the report had been shared with the doctor.
… Unless…
Desmond glanced at the doctor’s hands.
Nope.
Still ten fingers.
Diya al-Dīn stared at him as he said, “When I asked if you know Leicestershire, you froze.”
“Did I?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head, making sure his face was curious.
He knew it was going to bite him in the ass. He just didn’t expect Diya al-Dīn to wait this fucking long.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I am bringing it up now.” Diya al-Dīn said with a smile and Desmond just knew that the infuriating older man knew what Desmond was thinking just now, “I had to check what little records we still have of the Hidden Ones which includes… this.”
Diya al-Dīn stood as he grabbed a small journal before walking towards Desmond. He stood in front of Desmond and handed him the journal, making Desmond frown as he took it.
This up-close Desmond could smell the smoke coming from the journal itself and his frown deepened when he saw just how battered the cover was. He glanced back at Diya al-Dīn who nodded at him.
Desmond opened the journal to the first page.
The writing used a dialect that was more antiquated than what Desmond was used to but he was able to read it anyway.
It was…
A diary?
No.
A report.
Of a Hidden One from 873 that had traveled…
Desmond’s eyes widened.
“That is one of the few remaining records we have. Detailed reports by a Hidden One that we only know by the name of Hytham. The Hidden Ones had bureaus in the Crusaders’ lands, including in…” Diya al-Dīn stared at him as he said, “Leicestershire.”
Desmond kept his eyes trained on the journal in his hands.
“You’re a descendant of the Hidden Ones from Leicestershire, aren’t you?” Diya al-Dīn asked and Desmond froze.
Wait.
What?
Before Desmond could even think if he should go along with Diya al-Dīn’s wrong guess…
“You don’t even realize it, do you, Desmond, son of no one?” Diya al-Dīn said casually, “The way you move… the knowledge you easily give without a second thought…”
“You’re good at blending in.” Diya al-Dīn admitted before his lips curved into a small smile, “Too good, in fact.”
Desmond slowly raised his head to stare at Diya al-Dīn as he continued, “By pretending to be no one, you simply caught our attention from the very beginning.”
“From the beginning?” Desmond repeated calmly although his heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to throw itself out of his mouth.
“Why else do you think that you were sent my way?” Diya al-Dīn asked with a smile, “A newly arrived stranger? Suddenly told to go to the castle and be my errand boy?”
Desmond didn’t think it was too much of a stretch. Being an errand boy was a low position and, sure, Diya al-Dīn was a doctor-
Wait.
Now that Desmond thought about it.
Why did Diya al-Dīn have this journal in the first place? This should be something of value to the Assassins. There was no way they would just lend it to anybody.
No.
Desmond checked his fingers before.
He has ten fingers.
There was no way…
But the way Diya al-Dīn had been speaking to him…
Could it be that he was actually…
Desmond’s eyes slowly widened as he asked, “Your name isn’t really Diya al-Dīn, is it?”
Diya al-Dīn’s smile grew as he answered, “I am called by many names. Diya al-Dīn is one of them. But, I suppose, to those who are not from Alamut, they might know me better as…”
“‘A'lā’ Muhammad.” The man said and Desmond just stared at him with wide eyes.
“The mentor of Alamut.” Desmond muttered before letting out, “Fuck.”
Diya al-Dīn (or maybe he should start thinking of him as ‘A'lā’ Muhammad?) chuckled before replying, “I’m sure that’s what everyone believes. Would you like to know a secret, Desmond, son of no one?”
Diya al-Dīn slowly placed his left hand on Desmond’s shoulders and Desmond froze as he was reminded that his left hand had five fingers.
He leaned close and whispered by Desmond’s ear, “I am the current lord of Alamut, yes, but…”
“I am not the true mentor of the Assassins here in Alamut.”
Notes:
Sooooo… the winner of the vote was A! Because of this, you guys get to read about mama!wolf surviving XD. The plan was if B or C had won, they would see the corpse of mama!wolf and the other pups with the only survivor being the runt that Desmond would have adopted. But because A won, those who voted B or C could probably take the fact that I didn't have to write about the death of a mama!wolf and cubs as a consolation?
Chapter 14
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“So you’re a decoy?” Desmond asked as he watched Diya al-Dīn take a few steps away from him after he took the book from Desmond’s lax hands. Desmond had been too surprised by Diya al-Dīn’s proclamation that he didn’t bother trying to stop him.
Sure, the book was certainly interesting but there were more important things to think about.
Like finding out the real hierarchy here in Alamut.
“A decoy…” Diya al-Dīn repeated as his lips curved into an amused smile. He turned to face Desmond as he replied, “No. I did inherit the title of the ruler of Alamut from my father.”
“And I am the imam .” Diya al-Dīn began to walk out of the room and Desmond was left with no choice but to follow him. Diya al-Dīn’s two guards followed behind them as they descended the stairs, “Also, as far as our brothers are concerned, I am the mentor of our Brotherhood.”
Desmond frowned as he asked just as they reached the first floor, “Then why tell me that you’re not the mentor then?”
Diya al-Dīn turned to face him once more and Desmond froze when he saw the soft smile on Diya al-Dīn’s face, “I have grown fond of you, Desmond, son of no one.”
“You don’t know me.” Desmond reminded him as he forced himself to relax, “I’ve only been here for a month.”
“And, in that month, you have carved your way into the hearts of many.” Diya al-Dīn retorted before he turned around and walk once more, forcing Desmond to follow him.
They began to walk the busy courtyard and Desmond realized that they were going to the palace itself.
“Some things are clear even in such a short amount of time.” Diya al-Dīn said cryptically which Desmond did not appreciate.
He followed him as they entered the palace, noticing how the scholars moved away.
Not out of fear.
But out of respect.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Desmond asked, trying to rein in his annoyance as they began to walk towards the right wing of the palace.
“It means that we like what we have seen in this past month.” Diya al-Dīn replied with an amused smile before leading Desmond into what seemed to be some kind of courtyard.
Desmond froze.
The courtyard looked familiar.
There were more flowers decorating the entire courtyard and it was surrounded by walls instead of corridors leading to small rooms but…
The way they had to walk down a small set of stairs.
A small fountain in front of the second balcony.
Another set of stairs leading them further down into a more elaborate garden filled with plants and flowing water…
It was an almost exact copy of Masyaf’s Paradise.
Down to the three small pillars decorating the shallow pool just ahead of them.
But those pillars.
They had statues on top of them that Desmond didn’t remember Masyaf ever having.
Masyaf’s pillars had been empty.
But those statues.
Desmond recognized them.
The Capitoline Triad.
Alamut had statues of Tinia, Juno, and Minerva.
“Desmond?”
Desmond turned to look back at Diya al-Dīn who had stopped walking and was now just staring at him with curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
He could feel the two guards staring behind him as well but Desmond kept his attention on Diya al-Dīn.
He began to follow Diya al-Dīn once more as they descended another set of stairs, “Do you know who those three are?”
“The Father of Understanding, the Mother of Wisdom and the Sacred Voice.” Diya al-Dīn replied as they reached what seemed to be the final floor of the inner courtyard that, as far as Desmond could see, seemed to have been…
Desmond tried not to show it but he was freaking out, barely even hearing Diya al-Dīn’s explanation of how those statues represented the ancient gods of the Greeks and Romans and how the statues had been there from the time Alamut Castle had been constructed.
Just a bit.
Because, if he was right…
Diya al-Dīn might be leading him into the Isu temple underneath Alamut.
That was the only reason Desmond could think of as to why they kept descending and, it was clear from the way the courtyard had been structured, that the people of Alamut had dug their way below the mountain itself.
Desmond couldn’t even remember where the exact temple was as his bleed of Altaïr had large gaps in his memories that had only been exacerbated by whatever fogginess had now engulfed his bleeds.
All he knew was that it was underneath Alamut castle.
They walked inside the small building that was in the middle of the final floor and they had to cross a small arch bridge as the building was surrounded by water. It looked shallow enough that it would only probably go as far as Desmond’s knees but he appreciated not getting wet anyway.
He noticed that both guards stayed behind, turning around as if to guard the bridge itself while Desmond and Diya al-Dīn continued to make their way into the building.
It looked plain on the outside but the moment they entered, Desmond had to do a doubletake because everything was so…
Shiny.
The floors were sparkling.
There seemed to be glasses of different shapes most probably polished enough that they looked like they were shining.
At the very least, Desmond was absolutely hoping they were glass and not freaking gems.
The servants wore nice clothes and…
They were all older women who bowed at Diya al-Dīn as they passed, only to look at Desmond with wide eyes.
The extravagant rooms filled with beautiful decorations and flowers…
And the way the all-female staff members looked at Desmond as if he shouldn’t be here…
Oh fuck.
Desmond walked closer to Diya al-Dīn as he whispered, “Is this… are we in your harem?!”
Diya al-Dīn didn’t answer, simply opening a grand door that looked like it was made of gold (Desmond really, really hoped it wasn’t made of gold).
It was the cry of a bird of prey that caught Desmond’s attention first.
They were in some kind of small inner garden, surrounded by flowers with a soft rug filled with many pillows in the middle, slightly elevated by a small set of stairs. Three women were in the middle with the one with the darkest skin tone of the three of them standing and holding her arm out, letting a familiar-looking eagle rest its claws on her arm.
Desmond stared at the eagle.
Nice to know it didn’t die from eating that poisoned rabbit.
As if the eagle knew what Desmond was thinking or it had recognized Desmond, it let out a loud cry before flapping its wings. The woman lifted her arm slightly and the bird flew away, letting out another cry as it began to circle the building from the sky. She stared at the sky for a moment before she turned to stare at Desmond. She wore a blue-green dress with gold trimmings and flowing sleeves. Her black hair was tied by two simple gold ties on either side of her face and her hood was almost transparent, having the same color as her dress with the same gold trimmings.
Her bare feet took two steps towards them as she said, “So you have finally come.”
The other two women turned to stare at Desmond and Diya al-Dīn placed a hand on Desmond’s shoulder as he said with a smile, “My beloveds, I have brought Desmond here as you have requested.”
Belo-
Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized who these three women were.
“Thank you, dear husband.” It was a different woman who spoke next, wearing a bright red dress with a plunging neckline. She wore a red shawl that was almost transparent over it with what seemed to be a hood that she kept down. Her red lips formed into a smile as she said, “That will be all.”
Diya al-Dīn patted Desmond’s shoulder as he said, “Be gentle.”
Desmond thought he was talking to him until the woman with the red dress laughed before saying with a smirk that wrinkled the edges of her red-painted eyes, “Of course, we’ll be gentle.”
Desmond stayed still, unsure of what else to do when Diya al-Dīn walked out of the garden, closing the doors behind him.
Then his instincts took over and he quickly rolled away as an arrow hit the ground where he had been standing. It had come from the last of the women, wearing some kind of black clothing wrapped around her bust with the same red embroidery that was on the clothing wrapped around her waist, ending by her knees. She seemed to have been hiding her curved bow from under one of the pillows…
As well as her arrows.
Desmond barely managed to dodge the next arrow flying straight for his shoulder and he quickly unsheathed his clipped dagger, blocking the incoming strike from the charging woman clad in red. Desmond pushed her and they both jumped away from one another, giving him a chance to glance around.
The woman dressed in red had worn the hood of her red shawl but that was now unimportant. She held daggers in either hand, using a reverse grip to hold both plain-looking daggers by their leather grips. The dagger she held in her right hand was larger with a square tip while her left dagger was shorter and had a more angular tip.
Desmond took a step to the side as another arrow flew towards him and readied himself when his main opponent charged at the same time. He parried her left dagger but she simply turned around, making Desmond jump back to evade the large arching swipe she did with her right dagger.
Desmond gritted his teeth and took a step towards her, ignoring the fluttering of her long red dress.
And the incoming arrow aimed at his shoulder.
The woman in the red dress swiped his legs, toppling him just in time for him to inadvertently evade the next arrow.
Desmond rolled towards her and grabbed the skirt of her dress, pulling her down as he jabbed the butt of his chipped dagger against the back of her left hand. She dropped her dagger but she managed to pin him by pressing her knee against his stomach. He grabbed her right wrist as he expected her to use her remaining dagger to strike him.
Instead, she flicked her left wrist and Desmond’s surprise was all she needed to press the blade of her hidden blade against his throat.
Desmond tried to breathe which was proving difficult by the heavy weight against his stomach. The woman on top of him clicked her tongue in a manner that reminded Desmond of someone calling a dog.
The slight shaking of her head would connote that it was supposed to be admonishing.
“Such a risky attack.” The woman slowly got up and Desmond’s hold on her wrist meant he was being pulled up as well, “You do have a penchant for risky attacks, do you not, dear boy?”
“It gets the job done,” Desmond replied and didn’t bother to shrug as the hidden blade was still pressed against his neck.
“And that is why you are weak.” The woman said as she sheathed her hidden blade, letting Desmond relax just slightly as he glared at her.
Her red lips curved into a grin and Desmond froze when she pinched his cheek as she said, “Our beloved is right. You make the cutest faces when you’re angry.”
He backed away as he mumbled, “I’m not angry.”
“Of course, you’re not.” The woman nodded as she teased, “What word would you prefer? Annoyed? Irritated?”
“Dvora.” The woman with the blue-green dress said calmly as she stepped down, followed by the woman with the black and red attire.
The woman by the name of Dvora stepped to the side, letting the blue-green-dressed woman step in front of Desmond. She stared at Desmond for a moment before saying, “We will not apologize for our greeting but Dvora is right. There is a difference between taking a risk and ignoring your own well-being for the sake of finishing the mission.”
“Such lack of self-preservation…” She glanced at the sky before continuing, “Is certainly worrying, regardless if it is done in the heat of a match or a wolf attack.”
“Okay…” Desmond took a step back as he asked, “So you guys are Diya al-Dīn’s wives and…”
He turned to stare at the woman called Dvora as he added, “… you’re an Assassin?”
Holy crap.
Alamut had a female Assassin.
Okay. Desmond did not see that coming.
Dvora let out a small laugh before saying, “Perhaps we should start from the beginning then?”
They all began to walk around Desmond which only made Desmond more paranoid than he already was.
Then he remembered that Diya al-Dīn had done a similar thing when they had first met and his paranoia was now mixed with annoyance.
“We are all his wives, yes.” The woman in the blue-green dress stated before touching Desmond’s shoulder with her left hand. Desmond turned and took a step back, eyes widening when he noticed the missing ring finger on her left hand, “I am Razia.”
“Dvora is my name, dear child.” The red-clad woman whispered right by his ear and she only laughed once more when Desmond turned around and took a step back.
“She will continue to tease you if you keep reacting.” The last of the woman said and tapped Desmond’s knee with her bow, “Do not forget to keep your knees bent when you know you must continue to dodge.”
He turned around and dodged out of another attempted tap from the bow she was now holding with her left hand as Desmond saw her missing left finger as well, “You may call me Nur.”
She tilted her head as she said curiously, “And you knew all my arrows were not meant to kill you. That gave you the foolish idea to attack Dvora even if it meant taking an arrow on the shoulder.”
“Which is a stupid plan,” Raiza added, tapping Desmond on the back as all three of them continue to circle Desmond. He could even see the shadow of the eagle circling above him as well, “You don’t even have any padded armor that could take such a hit.”
“Such lack of one’s self-preservation…” Dvora started and tapped Desmond’s left arm, making Desmond turn to face her as she said, “That is a weakness of Rashid’s children.”
“Did Rashid instill such weakness in you, child?” Dvora asked.
“Or was it your parents?” Nur countered, “Had you simply been walking the same path your father had already walked in the name of Rashid’s own ambitions?”
“Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.”
Desmond’s body immediately turned to face Razia with wide eyes as she stood behind him.
All three women stopped walking around him and simply faced him while Razia placed her finger by her chin as she said, “Ah. You know the name.”
“Know?” Dvora took a step towards Desmond and purred, “The name means something to you.”
Desmond didn’t move, staring intently at Razia who stared back at him.
“We had thought that you might have been Umar’s boy.” Razia admitted, “It took a while for us to have confirmation that his boy remains in Masyaf.”
“You took the name ‘son of no one’…” Nur said with a tilt of her head, “Our beloved believes it means you wish to not be connected to your parents but we wonder…”
“Did you take the name because of Umar’s boy?” Razia asked and all three of them took a step toward Desmond.
“No.” Desmond answered as he tried to relax, “Diya al-Dīn is right. I took the name because… I’m no longer connected with my parents.”
“A direct answer!” Dvora said gleefully, “Such honesty.”
Dvora leaned close and whispered, “It only means that you wish to protect the connection you have with Umar’s boy then.”
Desmond turned to stare at her, seeing her red lips curve into a smirk as she continued, “It is so important to you that you are willing to part with a truth about your past instead.”
“Are you from Masyaf?” Raiza asked bluntly as Dvora stepped back.
Desmond turned to stare at her as he replied, “I was neither born nor raised in Masyaf.”
“Leicestershire then?” Raiza continued, “Is our beloved correct in thinking your parents are descendants of the Hidden Ones from Leicestershire?”
Considering his mother’s ancestor was Maria Thorpe who was from Leicester and both of his parents were descendants of Assassins which was what the Hidden Ones had evolved from…
“In a way…” Desmond replied vaguely before adding, “I’m not sure if there’s any bureau back in Leicestershire.”
“That was not the question.” Nur tapped his left arm with her bow.
“But the answer will suffice nonetheless.” Razia continued and they began to circle him once more, “Where were you before Jerusalem?”
“What?” Desmond frowned at the question.
“Your tracks stop in Jerusalem.” Nur explained, “To be more exact, as far as our informants and Assassins can find, you did not exist until last month in Jerusalem. Did you leave your parents and ran to Jerusalem?”
“Such a sweet boy you are, helping a lonely woman find love,” Dvora commented, making Desmond frown at her.
He did?
He only…
Oh.
Desmond’s eyes widened as he asked, “Did… did setti get married?!”
“To the current Rafiq of Jerusalem, yes.” Nur replied, lips curving into an amused smile as she realized, “Oh, was that not your plan?”
“No.” Desmond shook his head before he uttered, “Oh, wow. I… I did not see that coming…”
Wasn’t the last Rafiq before Malik took over old?
…
Actually…
He might just be around setti ’s age.
Huh.
“Then why did you send the woman to the Rafiq?” Nur asked.
He couldn’t really say that it was the first thing he could think of to keep setti alive once Jerusalem becomes embroiled in another war again so he simply shrugged.
“She was alone and I thought she’d be safer being employed by the Assassins,” Desmond answered truthfully without giving too much away.
“Kindness is a weakness in Rashid’s eyes,” Razia noted before all three of them stopped. This time, Razia was facing him when she asked, “Did Rashid send you?”
“No,” Desmond answered truthfully.
“Then why are you here, Desmond, son of no one?” Razia asked.
Why was he here?
Why did he come to Alamut?
Because…
“I…” Desmond’s lips curved into a pained smile as he replied quietly, “I have nowhere else to go.”
All three women were quiet for a moment before Nur said, “We welcome those who seek us and those who find us.”
“The lost and the frightened,” Dvora stated.
“Those who wish for peace and those who seek the truth.” Raiza finished and they all took another step toward Desmond.
“You are welcomed here, dear child.” Raiza said gently before asking, “But we must ask… is this what you want?”
Desmond tilted his head.
“To spend your days doing errands for our beloved?” Raiza clarified her question, “Or do you desire to take the blade? To join the Brotherhood?”
“I…” Desmond frowned as he asked, “Do I have a choice?”
“You will always have a choice, sweet boy,” Dvora said gently.
Nur continued, “It would be wrong of us to force people into joining when our mission is to protect the free will and peace of the people.”
“And that is why you offer you a choice, Desmond.” Raiza continued, “The same choice that had been given to every person here in Alamut. Even if you do not join us, you are still welcome here.”
Desmond thought about it.
There… really wasn’t any reason for him not to accept it.
To be frank, this had been his plan from the very beginning anyway.
He had simply gotten used to his life as Diya al-Dīn’s errand boy this past month that he got distracted.
Yes.
If he wanted to make sure he would be at the right time when it was time for him to borrow the Apple for a bit so he can move with his barebone plans…
He needed to be an Assassin.
And being an Assassin in Alamut seemed…
It felt nice.
That was the only word he could think of.
He nodded as he said, “I’ll join the Brotherhood.”
“Good.” Dvora patted his shoulder as she said, “Because we didn’t know what we would have actually done if you said no.”
Wait, what?
Desmond was about to stare at Dvora to ask what she meant by that but Raiza answered him before he could even ask, “We did believe you would agree to join the Brotherhood. It’s clear that you’ve been observing our Assassins the entire time you’ve been here.”
“It was?” Desmond asked, feeling a bit embarrassed.
How though?
Considering he had the skills of three Master Assassins and one Grand Templar…
“You’re quite good in a lot of things but looking out for Bennu is not one of them,” Razia explained as she raised her right arm. The eagle that had been flying above them swooped down and landed on her arm. The eagle turned to stare at Desmond as Raiza said, “Bennu has seen you be more than you pretend to be too many times to simply be a coincidence.”
Wait.
He got outed…
By a freaking bird???
Oh, that was embarrassing.
“I’m sure it’s nothing that Oded will not be able to teach you.” Dvora added before placing a hand on Desmond’s shoulder, “Of course, we will also be here to teach you things you lack.”
“You… are…?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“Why do you think we had our beloved bring you here?” Nur asked.
“We see potential in you, Desmond.” Raiza said as both she and the eagle on her arm stared at Desmond, “And it is a potential we, as the mentors of our Brotherhood, would like to nurture.”
Oh, great. He just had to get the attention of…
Shit.
Desmond just realized.
All three of them were the mentors of Alamut.
Considering how Desmond never expected a woman to even be an Assassin during this time thanks to Al Mualim’s strict separation of the roles of men and women in Masyaf…
Yeah, he definitely didn’t see this coming.
Notes:
Shoutout to jackalope_99 and the_wistful_traveler for guessing correctly the identity of the real mentor(s) XD
Chapter 15
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Before their conversation could continue, the door opened and Diya al-Dīn entered the garden once more. He looked around and Desmond swore he could see his face freeze for a moment when his eyes glanced at the arrows littering the ground but, well, Desmond wouldn’t put it past himself to believe he was just seeing what he wanted to see.
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a smile as he asked in a bright tone that Desmond had never heard from him before, “Lunch’s ready. Shall we all eat?”
With that single question, Desmond felt the oppressive air around him dissipate and he saw all three women relax. Dvora and Nur immediately went to Diya al-Dīn’s side, wrapping their arms around Diya al-Dīn’s arms as Dvora said in an overly dramatic tone, “Oh, wonderful. I’m famished!”
Diya al-Dīn simply chuckled with a face so soft it left Desmond feeling like he had been thrown into a different dimension. Diya al-Dīn raised his head to smile at Desmond as he asked, “Will you be joining us, Desmond?”
“Yes, Desmond.” Desmond froze when he felt Raiza wrap an arm around his arm. Right now, they were around the same height yet Raiza still bent a little so she would be looking up at Desmond as she said, “We would appreciate it if you join us.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a polite smile as he replied, “Of course. It would be my pleasure, mentor.”
“Aren’t they wonderful?”
Desmond wasn’t sure what Diya al-Dīn expected him to say to that. He felt like an intruder right now and the sideglances the servants were giving him made it clear that they also believe that.
Still…
Desmond knew he couldn’t refuse.
But that didn’t mean he wanted to use half-truths to answer Diya al-Dīn’s question, especially as it was a loaded one.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to say anything because Dvora said, “We’re only wonderful because of your love.”
Desmond wanted to get away as fast as he could from this entire thing already.
He wasn’t used to all these… blatant displays of affection.
Hell, he couldn’t even remember his parents displaying even the slightest hint of affection.
Seeing Dvora and Nur feed Diya al-Dīn and lean onto him while he did the same and steals kisses…
Desmond felt like the delicious food he had been given (and, seriously, vegetables should not taste this fresh and delicious, what the hell kind of spices were they adding???) was threatening to return to his mouth just from watching them.
Which made it all the stranger that Raiza was the only woman who seemed to not be included in the lovey-dovey scene.
Raiza remained seated on Dvora’s other side, adding more and more meat to her plate after she had finished off what had initially been on her plate.
Their eyes met and Raiza stared at him for a moment before asking, “Are you done?”
“Yes,” Desmond answered with a nod.
“Good.” Raiza stood as she held her plate with one hand. She stared down at Desmond as she said, “Would you be so kind as to accompany me back to the gardens?”
Desmond could feel Diya al-Dīn’s stare but he ignored it as he nodded and stood, “Of course, mentor.”
This time, Raiza didn’t take his arm. Instead, she began to walk ahead, making Desmond follow her. Desmond would never get used to all the sparkling and glittering all around them as they walked out of the dining room and into the large hallway.
All the servants went on their knees and their foreheads touch the floor as Raiza passed them, not even daring to raise their heads to acknowledge Desmond in some way.
Once they were inside the gardens once more, Raiza sat on the mountain of pillows and placed the plate next to her before raising her arm as she whistled.
Bennu flew to her outstretched arm and gripped it, resting on her arm as she lowered it slightly. Desmond continued to stand in front of her as she began to feed Bennu the pieces of meat from her plate.
It was as Bennu ate his fifth piece of meat that Raiza asked, “Are you afraid of us, Desmond son of no one?”
Desmond remained quiet for a beat before he replied, “No.”
“Then why do you act so formally?” Raiza asked as she kept her attention on her (their?) eagle, feeding him another piece.
“It would be rude of me to be so informal with you, mentor.”
“Yet you were quite informal with our beloved when you believed he was your employer.” Raiza’s eyes focused on him without even stopping to feed Bennu, “Even after learning of the name the world knows him by, you still act the same.”
“That’s different,” Desmond said calmly.
Raiza finally dropped her hands, making Bennu flap his wings for a bit before resting on a nearby pillow. He began to eat the remaining slices of meat by himself as Raiza asked in a deceptively calm tone, “Is it because he is a man?”
“No, mentor,” Desmond answered with the same calm tone.
“Then why?” Raiza asked and Desmond could hear the annoyance she tried to hide in her voice.
For a moment, Desmond wondered if lying would be better.
For him to simply stop using fae lies for once and answered with a blatant lie.
But Desmond knew that would simply backfire on him. He… never liked lying unless it was meant to be a joke.
There was a fear that clung to him whenever he tried to lie.
The fear of being caught.
The fear of seeing William Miles be disappointed in him once more.
So instead…
Desmond spoke the truth.
“Because you demanded my respect.”
“We demanded your respect?” Raiza repeated as she rested her hand on her lap. Her point finger began to tap against her knee and Desmond wondered if she even realized she was doing it.
Seeing the furrowing of her brows, Desmond asked, “Isn’t that the reason why you attacked me? To show your strength… to… make me lose my calm and make it easier to interrogate me?”
Raiza stared at him for a moment with furrowed brows before asking, “Is that what you believed we were doing? Intimidating you?”
Desmond tilted his head instead of answering her. Next to her, Bennu tilted his head as well as he stared at Desmond.
“Had we simply said we were the mentors, would you have believed us?” Raiza asked, her tone becoming dry as she continued, “Three women, hidden in this place of beauty and riches, the wives of the ruler of Alamut?”
“I would.” Desmond nodded. Seeing the disbelief in Raiza’s eyes, he said, “We don’t care about the kind of body you possess, what matters is that you honor the Creed and adhere to the three tenets.”
“And…” Desmond shrugged as he added, “If Diya al-Dīn had introduced you three as the mentors, I would have believed it because I believe in him.”
“Such loyalty…” Raiza paused before saying, “No, it’s not loyalty, is it? You’re not loyal to our dear husband…”
“You simply believe he is a good man that is worth trusting.” Raiza noted as she scratched Bennu’s chin with her point finger, “You are quite a strange child, Desmond son of no one.”
Desmond remained quiet, letting Raiza speak as she said, “How wonderful your life must have been that you can see past the rules that govern the men and women of this land.”
“Yet…” Raiza dropped her hand as she said, “What pain you must have endured to believe that someone demanding respect must be treated like such.”
“Like what?” Desmond asked as he tilted his head once more.
“Like someone you must fear.”
“I don’t-”
“Do you not?”
Desmond stared at her for a moment before asking, “Is this how you keep the rest of the Assassins here in line then? Did they receive the same welcome I have?”
Raiza’s lips curved into a mirthless smile as she said, “No one but you and my beloved’s most trusted guards knows we are the true mentors.”
Raiza leaned back against the pillows behind her and looked away as she said, “They would not be as understanding as you.”
“I don’t think so,” Desmond answered as he remembered the people he had met.
“Oh?”
“I think…” Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith.”
Raiza blinked before she let out a loud laughter that surprised Desmond. Raiza always seemed to be the composed sort so hearing her laugh like that…
Desmond couldn’t help but be surprised.
It made her look… younger.
She shook her head as her laughter died to a soft chuckle before saying, “That was not funny.”
“You laughed.” Desmond blinked at her.
“I laughed at how you could say such an embarrassing thing with such an earnest face.” Raiza explained, smiling at Desmond as she said, “I can see why our beloved has such a soft spot for you.”
Before Desmond could say anything, Raiza admitted, “It was my idea to attack you.”
Desmond’s expression turned blank once more as Raiza continued, “Dvora wanted to throw a banquet if you can believe it. Nur suggested tea for she felt a banquet would simply make you feel uncomfortable.”
“I…” Raiza faltered for a few seconds before saying, “I needed to make sure.”
“Of what?”
“That you’re not one of Rashid’s children.” She answered. She began to tap her knee once more as she said, “That you can be trusted… that you will not be a danger to him.”
Desmond stared at her for a moment before saying, “I have no plans to harm Diya al-Dīn in any way.”
“Perhaps not intentionally but…” She paused before sighing once more. She stared at him as she said, “You remind me of him.”
“Who?” Desmond asked with furrowed brows.
“Rashid ad-Din Sinan.”
At those words, Desmond froze.
What?
“He came to Alamut when he was around your age as well. As far as I could remember, he was this… beacon of light.” Raiza stated as she started to get lost in her own memories, “A natural in everything that an Assassin needs to survive and complete the mission yet with the charisma of a leader that… people would willingly die for.”
“If I can see it then he can as well.” Raiza sighed before sitting up straight once more. Her movements caused Bennu to finally fly upward and Desmond could see his shadow circling them as she said, “I am afraid that you are here to break Alamut once more. We cannot survive such a thing once again.”
“Not when we’ve finally reached this… stability.” Raiza was quiet for a few seconds before she shook her head, “And this is not something I should be burdening you in the first place.”
“Your secrets are yours to keep. As long as it does not harm him or Alamut, I will not demand anything.” Raiza said, the dryness oozing when she said the word ‘demand’.
“If you don’t trust me then why tell me the truth?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“Because we cannot say no to our beloved.” Raiza admitted with a fond smile before saying in a much more serious tone, “And… seeing you in Bennu’s eyes, we saw both the skills you try to hide and the potential you hold. We would be fools if we do not nurture it.”
“And…” Raiza’s lips curved into a small smile as she said, “We cannot turn a blind eye to those lost.”
Desmond blinked as he asked, “Do I look lost?”
“Are you not?”
Desmond became quiet at that question.
Was he?
Normally, he would have said no.
But then again…
Wasn’t he?
Thrown in this time period with nothing but Minerva’s incomplete warning.
Away from everyone and everything he knew, in a time period where his Bleed’s memories could no longer be trusted…
And…
Forced to stay away from the one person he wished to see the most.
The one person he wished to…
Desmond’s lips curved into a sad smile as he forced himself to focus on their current conversation to not get swept away by his desires and wishes, “Yeah, I guess I’m a bit lost.”
“The Brotherhood welcomes all,” Raiza said, reminding Desmond of the words she and the other two mentors had said a while ago.
“Is that why Alamut allows women to be Assassins?” Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized, “Oh, shit. Are the nymphs-”
“No.” There was a sudden curtness to Raiza’s words that made Desmond understand that he might have accidentally stepped on a sore topic, “The three of us are the only women who had taken the blade here and in Levant. I am sure Rashid would rather be stripped naked and fed to snakes under the blistering sun than accept women into his little castle.”
That was… a very descriptive way of dying and Desmond was not going to touch that obvious descriptive (bordering on possible desire) disdain with a twelve-foot pole.
“As for the Brotherhood here in Alamut…” Raiza began to tap her finger against her knee once more as she said vaguely, “No. The nymphs are not Assassins. It’s just… the three of us.”
“Oh…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say to that.
Raiza stared at him for a few seconds before she asked, “Would you like to know why?”
“Huh?” Desmond blinked at that question.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” Raiza said calmly before her lips curved into a small smile as she said, “For example: why have they requested my presence here? At this time? At this very moment?”
“Yeah, I am curious about that, to be honest,” Desmond admitted as he dropped his hand.
Bennu flew back into the garden and Raiza grabbed a nearby bowl filled with fruits. She took what seemed to be a pomegranate and broke it in half as she answered, “You were taking too long.”
“To what?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“To do something.” Raiza answered as she raised her head to smirk at him, “Anything other than being our beloved’s errand boy.”
“Ah.” Desmond nodded in understanding.
Well, he was getting complacent, that was for sure.
“And the more time we waste with you doing such menial tasks…” The juice of the pomegranate began to stain her hands yet she didn’t seem to care as she continued, “Menial tasks that he has recruits to do those things for him anyway…”
She began to pick the fallen seeds and feed them to Bennu as she continued, “Your skills are wasted at such a job.”
“I don’t…” Desmond shrugged as he commented, “I kinda like it.”
Raiza stared at him for a moment before retorting, “Is it the job you like or is it the feeling of trying to figure out the Brotherhood?”
Desmond frowned at her question.
“Both?” Desmond said with a questioning tilt to his answer.
She and her eagle tilted their heads at the same time as she said, “To our eyes, you seem to be having fun playing word games with everyone. Asking questions and saying words that can be misinterpreted in different ways.”
Desmond remained quiet for a moment before he asked her directly, “And if that’s the case, can you really let such a person be an Assassin?”
He wondered if he was pushing her even though she had already given him a reason as to why they had decided to offer him a place in the Brotherhood. Instead of annoyance, Raiza’s lips simply curved into a small smile that lacked any joy, only appearing as sad to Desmond, as she said, “We all have secrets we do not wish to talk about.”
“And this fae lies of yours…” Razia nodded as she said, “They only help make you a better Assassin.”
“Our beloved wants you to be initiated as soon as possible.” Razia informed him, making Desmond wonder about the sudden change of topic, “But we cannot, in good conscience, let you become an Assassin before we are sure that you have everything we can teach you.”
Desmond was pretty sure he had that.
It took all of his willpower to keep himself from letting the Bleeds take over when he had been fighting Dvora and Nur after all.
“What you lack and your bad habits…” Raiza crushed the seed in her fingers as she said, “It must be curbed before you take the blade.”
“To let you be an Assassin as you are right now would be a danger, not just to those around you but to yourself,” Raiza stated calmly as she stopped feeding Bennu. Both she and the eagle stared at Desmond as she said, “And that is why we must know just how skilled you truly are.”
“We cannot properly guide you if we do not know what it is you needed to be guided in,” Raiza stated and Desmond wondered if she knew he had… well… not been fighting at his full capacity.
“But I do understand that you have your reasons for hiding what you are truly capable of.” Raiza’s lips curved into a mirthless smile as she said, “And I’m sure the way we have introduced ourselves did not endear you to us.”
Desmond remained quiet at that.
“But perhaps this is a good time to…” Raiza’s next words sounded both sarcastic and teasing as she said, “Take a leap of faith.”
Before Desmond could say anything, most probably to snark back at her, Raiza asked with a smile, “How about we play a little game?”
Desmond blinked at the sudden change of subject.
“We will give you three tasks.” Raiza stated, “For each task you accomplish, we will give you something you’ve been searching for ever since you got here in Alamut.”
“Three answers to questions you have been wondering ever since.”
Well…
There was no way Desmond could say no now.
Even if this game was Raiza’s way of getting Desmond to show them what he was truly capable of.
It was fine.
Desmond would play the mentors’ game.
For now…
Notes:
Okay, so some of you might realize that my replies to some of the comments last chapter were a bit lacking compared to how I usually reply. That’s because I wanted to keep it a bit of a surprise that Raiza and Desmond would actually have a… ‘discussion’ in this one that would give an idea of the kind of relationship they’re starting from. Of course, Dvora and Nur will also have a different relationship with Desmond which will be hinted at in the next few chapters. To those whose comments I reply to that may seem lacking, I hope you understand and I really enjoyed reading your comments because, I’ll be honest, Raiza and Desmond’s conflict was always going to be part of the plot but I didn’t expect you guys to have a discussion thread over it. It made me happy to have read your thoughts about it and I hope you guys will enjoy the development of Desmond’s relationship with Raiza, whatever form it might take.
Chapter 16
Notes:
Sorry for the delay, guys. I was away for the entire weekend and just got enough sleep to function XD
Anyway, just an announcement: there's a possibility that next week's updates will also be delayed for a few hours (a day at most) so just a head's up. Next week's update is still a go, it's just... possibly going to be delayed due to rl stuff happening. Anyway, enjoy this week's chapter :)
Chapter Text
The first task was simple.
Return to Diya al-Dīn’s tower and retrieve a feather from the top of the tower.
… Without causing all the other eagles to leave the tower.
A complication arose when he finally reached the top of the tower though…
“Oh, Desmond! Hello!” Zain greeted as he stopped wiping the floor. He placed the rag back in the bucket next to him and stood as he said, “We didn’t see you at lunch today.”
“Yeah…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, unsure just how much he could tell Zain.
It seemed luck was on his side because Zain stepped closer and whispered, “Is it true? Did the mentor bring you to meet his wives?”
Desmond frowned as he said, “Huh. All of the castle know about that?”
“Oh, no. I overheard my father tell the mentor that they should take the route that will pass into the palace courtyard so people won’t notice that they were bringing you to the harem.” Zain answered with a boyish grin, “Don’t worry! I didn’t tell anyone!”
Huh. So they didn’t want anyone to know Desmond had met with the real mentors of Alamut.
That made sense since there was no real reason why Desmond, an unmarried young man, should even be allowed inside the harem of the supposed leader of Alamut.
Wait.
Why did Zain’s father know…
Desmond stared at Zain quietly, making the young boy squirm at the sudden intensity of Desmond’s stare, “Um… Is… something wrong?”
Zain gulped and started to defend himself before Desmond could even say anything, “I only started to listen in because you told us that we should always try to snoop around! That being able to eavesdrop while doing our tasks would be a good practice-”
“Zain.” Desmond grabbed his shoulders, making the young boy let out a small sound that seemed to be a mix of ‘eep’ and ‘yes’, “Is… your father one of Diya al-Dīn’s guards?”
Zain blinked at the question for a moment before he tilted his head and he replied in an almost confused tone, “Yes?”
Desmond tried to rack his brain of the names of Diya al-Dīn’s guards but then, he realized…
He never got their names at all.
Not even Diya al-Dīn called them by their names.
Oh, that was embarrassing.
Desmond sighed and patted Zain’s shoulder, making the boy copy him as they both crouched.
“Soooo… I’m going to tell you a secret that you must never tell anybody else.” Desmond said solemnly as he kept his hand on Zain’s shoulder.
Zain’s back straightened and he nodded eagerly as he said, “I promise to not tell a soul. Not even my father.”
Desmond stared at him for a moment before admitting solemnly, “I don’t know the names of Diya al-Dīn’s guards.”
Zain stared at him with unblinking eyes for what was just a second or two but felt like an eternity for someone waiting for a punchline like Desmond.
Then he nodded with the same solemnity as Desmond as he said, “I understand. Not a lot know my father’s and uncle’s name.”
They were brothers?!
Oh, Desmond could feel the disappointment of the remnants of his bleeds by that revelation.
“My father’s name is Usman ibn-Khalaf.” Zain explained with a smile, not realizing that Desmond actually didn’t even know which guard was his father and which was his uncle, “And my uncle is Emad ibn-Khalaf.”
Desmond watched as Zain proudly explained, “Our family has been protecting the mentors of Alamut since the time of my great-grandfather. And my cousin and I are training too so we can guard the next mentor like my father and uncle!”
Desmond hummed as he tilted his head, “You have a cousin?”
“Yes.” Zain nodded excitedly, “But Kāve is only 2 years old right now! When he becomes a recruit, I’ll be sure to teach him everything you’ve been teaching us too!”
Desmond felt his lips curve slightly as he continued to watch Zain but his heart start to ache. Knowing it was risky to say such words, Desmond hesitated for only a moment before he said, “You know you don’t have to, right?”
Zain tilted his head as he asked, “What do you mean?”
“You don’t have to be an Assassin.” Desmond said, “Just because you came from a family of Assassins doesn’t mean you have to be one if you don’t want to.”
Zain’s lips curved into a bright grin as he said, “He told me the same thing, you know?”
“Hm?”
Zain turned to look at the large archway leading outside as he explained, “The day before I started my training, the mentor summoned me. I was sooo scared. I’ve only seen him sometimes when I visit my father to give him something he forgot at home.”
Zain placed both of his hands on his knees as he continued, “He sat me down and told me that I wasn’t in trouble.”
Zain sheepishly smiled as he commented, “I must have been shaking so much for him to see it clearly.”
“Then…” Zain turned to smile at Desmond as he continued, “He told me the same thing you just told me. He said…”
Desmond could hear the echoes of Diya al-Dīn’s voice as Zain recited, “The Brotherhood requires a commitment not many can keep. You are not bound by your blood to take the same path as your father and uncle.”
“Then he told me about the many apprenticeships available in town.” Zain continued, “Even told me that if I wish to help the Brotherhood, I could be an informant or a scholar instead.”
“So why didn’t you take the offer?” Desmond asked curiously.
Desmond could see Diya al-Dīn do such a thing. The past month he had known the man, for all his secrecy and annoying penchant to poke at people, he had always advocated for choice and free will.
Hell, his wives also tried to do the same from the first conversation Desmond had with them.
It was such a strange thing to hear and be part of.
Especially considering he was not given the same choice as Desmond Miles.
Especially considering Al Mualim never gave the same choice to the children of the Brotherhood, those with parents or those left in the care of the older Flowers.
Then again, the three mentors had counted on Desmond not being able to say no.
So did he really have a choice back then?
Or had he just been given the illusion of one?
Had… had Diya al-Dīn done the same thing to Zain?
“Because I want to be an Assassin.” Zain’s sincere words brought Desmond from the dark spiral his mind was dropping into and he focused on the young man.
“I know it’s a dangerous life…” Zain looked down and his grin turned into a small sad smile, “My other uncle, father’s youngest brother, died when I was five and… I had nightmares for months of my father dying after I heard of his death.”
“But, as I grow older, I realized that being an Assassin isn’t just about killing evil people.” Zain turned to look back at Desmond as he said, “It means protecting others too. And… even if I can’t protect everyone…”
Zain’s smile turned just a tad brighter as he continued, “I can guard the one who can lead the Brotherhood into making sure everyone is safe.”
That was a tall order.
But Desmond understood Zain’s reasoning.
It may be oversimplifying a lot of things but Zain was young and it was clear that he still held some kind of romanticized version of the Brotherhood in his head.
At the same time, Desmond couldn’t help but wish that the Brotherhood in Zain’s head could become a reality.
And he wasn’t an asshole who would needlessly destroy such nice thoughts.
“Well…” Desmond turned to look at the sky beyond the open archway as he said, “You better make sure the next mentor’s a good one then.”
He didn’t notice Zain staring at him with a glint in his eyes as he replied, “I think we’ll be fine.”
“Oh?” Desmond turned to look back at Zain as he asked, “Does Diya al-Dīn already have a kid I don’t know about?”
Zain’s lips twitched and his eyes gleamed with amusement as he replied, “Not yet but we’re hopeful.”
Considering the lovey-dovey scene he had to suffer through just a few moments ago, Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if that hope was going to come sooner or later.
Before he could say anything, Zain asked, “So what brings you here, Desmond?”
Desmond simply shrugged as he replied casually, “Oh, nothing much. Just have to get a feather from one of the birds here as part of some convoluted test the…”
Desmond’s lips curved into a mirthless smile as he continued, “… mentor is ordering me to do.”
“Oh?” Zain turned to look at the birds currently resting on the high beams of the tower as they both stood, frowning slightly as he said, “Um… we can try calling out to them? The mentor is usually the one feeding them but I can try if I can make the same sounds he makes to tell them it’s time to eat?”
“Nah. That’s okay.” Desmond walked towards the bucket near Zain and leaned down, “I have a better idea.”
Zain’s eyes widened when Desmond plucked one wet feather from the bucket. He watched Desmond shake the feather to dry it a bit as he said, “Um… is that okay? Isn’t the test about maybe… um, stealth?”
“I was just told me to get a feather from one of the eagles here.” Desmond waved the feather as he grinned, “Mission accomplished.”
Desmond patted Zain’s shoulder as he walked past him while saying, “Well, I’m gonna go give this to Diya al-Dīn. I’ll see you later.”
“Will we be seeing at dinner?” Zain asked curiously as he watched Desmond start to descend the stairs.
“Not sure yet but I hope so,” Desmond replied without looking back.
“Alright! Have a good day, Desmond!”
“You too!”
It was easy to figure out where Diya al-Dīn was.
His two guards standing on either side of the door that Desmond had been given were a dead giveaway that Desmond knew that there was no need to double-check with his Eagle Vision.
Desmond spoke even before he had reached the end of the stairs, “Oh, Usman. I just talked to Zain.”
He kept his words casual even though he looked at the two guards for any movement or twitch that would give away which one of them was supposed to be Zain’s father.
Both of them simply turned to stare at him and Desmond rummaged through the pouch on his belt to take out the feather, making it appear as if he was busy so he wouldn’t have to look at either of them which would give away the fact that he didn’t know which was Usman and which one was Emad, “So I guess Diya al-Dīn’s inside my room, huh.”
The guard open the door to his room while the other guard said, “You didn’t lock it.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” Desmond replied with a shrug, knowing that just because one of them finally talked to him, didn’t mean he was Zain’s father.
“And that is a problem all by itself.” Diya al-Dīn said from inside his room.
Desmond walked inside and glanced around.
The mountain of pillows and blankets that had replaced the less-than-comfortable cot he had been given when he first came to Alamut was in the specific messy way he had left them that morning.
The chair that was three shades lighter than the desk that he got was in the same location, just an inch to the left of the desk and close enough that anyone who tried to open the drawers on the left side would have to move it. The small bucket that he was using as a trashcan was also at the correct placement just in front of the drawers on the right side while the books he had borrowed from the scholar’s tower were in the same chaotic mess he had left them in to make sure that the drawers at the top of the desk could not be opened without disturbing them.
The small pots of medicinal plants and other small trinkets he had received from the townspeople and the recruits that he had placed on top of the desk in a specific order that looked messy and placed in a manner that would keep anyone from pulling the false bottom without putting them aside first were also left untouched.
The plain wooden chest that housed his few articles of clothing was still closed with the fabric of his extra blanket poking slightly out at the exact angle that Desmond had put it on.
It seemed that the only thing that had been disturbed since Desmond left this morning was the window that had been opened. The same window where Diya al-Dīn was sitting on the sill, arm lifted to let a familiar eagle rest on his forearm.
“Everyone has something they wish to hide.” Diya al-Dīn said calmly as he tied some kind of small rolled-up paper on the leg of the eagle with one hand effortlessly, “If you wish to pretend to be unremarkable then you must have an unremarkable secret that you must hide.”
He moved his arm to outstretch it out of the window and the eagle took flight. They watched it as it flew in the direction of the harem while Diya al-Dīn said, “A fake secret that you desperately try to hide will throw them off more than pretending you have nothing to hide.”
Desmond turned his attention to Diya al-Dīn as he asked, “So should I be worried that you’re still trying to figure out my real secret?”
Diya al-Dīn chuckled as he turned around. He walked towards Desmond but stop just a few feet in front of him, crossing his arms in a manner that Desmond remembered a lot of Masyaf Assassins did.
It was a way to show one’s trust by making it easy for anyone to see their missing left finger without saying a word. A sign that they believe they were among friends.
But Diya al-Dīn did not have any missing fingers.
“The feather?” Diya al-Dīn asked curiously and took the wet feather that Desmond presented him. He looked it over for a moment before nodding, “Good work.”
“Aren’t you going to ask why it’s wet?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head.
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into an amused smile as he replied, “I’ve been informed of what you did. We approve of your methods if that’s what you were worried about. We did not specify that you had to get a feather by plucking one of them for a reason after all.”
Desmond was more worried about how Diya al-Dīn was able to know about that so quickly. It was possible that his wives’ eagle (or was it just Raiza’s?) was hiding among the countless eagles that had been in the tower while Desmond was there but that didn’t answer how they knew what Desmond had done.
The way they were talking about how the eagle had been able to watch over him…
Desmond was so done with the strangeness of Alamut that he wouldn’t bat an eye if they told him that the eagle knew sign language at this point.
“Now then… I believe we owe you an answer to a question you have.” Diya al-Dīn reminded him. Seeing Desmond open his mouth, he cut him off with a smirk, “Ah, but we did not say that you would choose which question we will answer.”
Diya al-Dīn’s smirk grew when Desmond glared at him and reminded him, “You are not the only one who uses misleading words.”
“Fine.” Desmond sighed and crossed his arms as he asked, “So… what question would you be answering?”
“Who was the previous owner of this room?” Diya al-Dīn stated, catching Desmond’s attention. He looked around as he said, “This room used to belong to my uncle.”
Diya al-Dīn paused for a moment before he walked back to the window as he continued, “We were not related by blood, of course. He was born south of Alamut and came here after…”
Diya al-Dīn turned and sat back on the window sill as he continued, “… a disagreement with his brothers.”
“I grew up thinking of him as an uncle of mine.” Diya al-Dīn admitted, “I… I wanted to be like him when I grew up. To be someone that the Assassins could depend on with my skills and tactical prowess. To be someone whose thoughts and theories the scholars would listen to. I was not alone in thinking the best of him. Many liked him, some even worshipped him. ”
Desmond was already dreading that his guess would be proven correct but he kept quiet and only listened as Diya al-Dīn continued, “Many wanted him to be the next mentor. And no one coveted the title of mentor of the Brotherhood more than him and my father.”
“Yet he was passed over and my father became both the imam and the mentor after my grandfather.” Diya al-Dīn stated, lips curving into a mirthless smile as he continued, “Before my father was officially given the title, my grandfather died… of mysterious causes.”
Desmond’s eyes widened and Diya al-Dīn waved it off as he continued, “Of course, all we have are rumors.”
“But you think he did it. That Al-” Desmond paused for a moment before saying, “Rashid had a hand in your grandfather’s death.”
“Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn’t. Both he and my father gain much from the death of my grandfather, after all.” Diya al-Dīn replied as he placed both hands on the window sill, “Even if he was to deny such accusations, there is no proof that he did not do it. The same way that there is no proof that he did do it.”
“What matters is that Alamut was about to tear itself apart because of my grandfather’s decision and my father would not concede any of his titles to Rashid.” Diya al-Dīn continued, “So… instead, he sent Rashid and the most loyal of his followers away. Ordered him to build a stronghold in al-Sham…”
Diya al-Dīn stood as he continued, “Rashid should have been the next mentor. He was more than my father ever was.”
Diya al-Dīn walked toward Desmond as he said, “The only thing that stopped him from being given the title was blood.”
“And that is the reason why Alamut and Masyaf are nothing more than distant allies. Perhaps it is even worse than that…” Diya al-Dīn continued, “My father gave him free reigns in Masyaf to appease his rage but that only served to corrupt the very foundation that the Assassins in Masyaf are given. By the time I have been given Alamut, I cannot, in my good conscience, give the title to Rashid. Not when I have heard of what he has done, of what kind of Assassins he had nurtured in al-Sham.”
The small sad smile on Diya al-Dīn’s lips only served to make Desmond’s chest ache, “I cannot let him corrupt my home. Alamut is more important than the past we shared. It is more important than whatever love I may have had for Rashid.”
“I inherited my father’s mistakes.” Diya al-Dīn said and handed Desmond a small folded piece of paper that looked like it was made of the same paper as the one he had tied to the eagle’s foot, “And the one who succeeds me will inherit our mistakes. The same way the one who will succeed Rashid will inherit his mistakes.”
Desmond frowned at those words.
He couldn’t even deny it.
The memories he received from his bleed were foggy but he did remember that Rashid’s shadow continued to haunt Altaïr for as long as he had been the mentor.
Desmond unfolded the paper Diya al-Dīn had given him and his eyes widened as he read what was written on it.
“Your next task is…” Diya al-Dīn said as if he had memorized what was written on the paper Desmond was holding, “… To steal a full set of recruit robes without being caught by any Assassin.”
Chapter 17
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After informing Desmond of his task, Diya al-Dīn left his room without saying anything else. Desmond was sure it must have been painful for Diya al-Dīn to even speak of his past with Rashid…
Desmond felt conflicted.
On one hand, he felt warmth envelop him knowing at knowing Diya al-Dīn trusted him enough to tell him about their past.
On the other hand, he couldn’t help but wonder what was the point of these tests. To answer questions he had been thinking of was something the mentors had done to entice him into doing these tasks.
For what, though?
At first, Desmond had assumed it was another test to see his abilities and skills but…
Maybe there was something more?
Raiza had told him that he reminded her of Rashid and, as she had predicted, Diya al-Dīn had seen the similarities and had given him Rashid’s old room.
Desmond had an idea of what Raiza thought of him, of what she wanted from him.
But Diya al-Dīn…
Desmond wondered if Diya al-Dīn was trying to see something inside Desmond that wasn’t there.
Was he meant to replace the broken relationship Diya al-Dīn had with Rashid?
Was he meant to replace Rashid in Diya al-Dīn’s eyes in some strange way?
Desmond sighed.
Who the fuck knows at this point?
Desmond certainly didn’t.
So he’d do what he usually did in this kind of situation.
Ignore it for now and get back to it when he had more information.
He wanted to believe that the two answers he would be rewarded with would help him but…
Considering the first answer he got was this heavy, it would make sense if the next two questions would be even heavier.
Oh well.
He’d cross that bridge once he got there.
For now…
He needed to go to the thermae.
Knowing that the Assassins already had an inkling of his ‘dubious’ origin (which Desmond was just going to go with whatever weird theory they have because that gave him an excuse not to think of an actual one anyway), it would be too risky to actually go to Shadow Tower and try to find a set of recruit robes there.
Not to mention, the last part had added the caveat of not being caught by any Assassin which meant he couldn’t risk the possibility that the Assassins had been briefed on this and were on the lookout for him.
Which left one other possible place where recruit robes could be seen.
The thermae.
It would be too risky to try and snatch the robes from behind the thermae where they were doing the laundry though. It was too out in the open and Desmond couldn’t risk any of the patrolling Assassins getting lucky and catching him red-handed while they were just doing their job.
Which meant…
He had to find the robes inside the thermae itself without any Assassins seeing him with them.
Luck seemed to be on his side (for now) when he entered the thermae. It was quiet and a quick glance with his Eagle Vision showed him that most people were in the three main rooms, the caldarium where the hot water was, the tepidarium where the warm water was, and the frigidarium where the cool water was.
There was no one in the sudatorium but there seemed to be two people inside the laconicum. Considering the frozen way they sat in front of one another, Desmond was pretty sure they were two idiots who were trying to see who would first leave what was pretty much the sauna room in the thermae.
There were much less painful dick-measuring contests but Desmond wasn’t going to say that to their faces.
It wasn’t the first time he had seen such a ‘mental battle’ as Rawiya snarkily call it.
Of course…
“Oh, Desmond. Welcome!”
There were still nymphs lounging in the entrance and a few of them walked toward him but didn’t touch him. They were just close enough that they could speak without any problems but with a respectable distance that Desmond had gotten used to.
“Shall one of us guide you to one of the private baths?” One of the nymphs that Desmond had only seen maybe around two times asked.
Actually…
All of the nymphs around him were unfamiliar with him which wasn’t surprising.
He had definitely visited earlier than he normally does.
Desmond usually visited the thermae after dinner, to take a bath and relax for a bit before returning to his room.
So he was more familiar with the nymphs that were, for lack of a better term, part of the ‘night shift’.
“Yeah.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, “I was in the aviary and… you know how birds don’t really care where and when they drop… stuff?”
At those words, a few of the nymphs giggled while two of them slightly backed away, covering their mouth and nose as they giggled more awkwardly.
“Oh, we understand what you mean.” The woman who spoke to him first giggled before saying, “Let me show you to one of the private baths you can use then.”
“Thanks.” Desmond grinned as he said, “Laleh.”
The nymph blinked for a moment before her smile became brighter, “Of course. We are here to support all of you in any way we can.”
Desmond would admit that it took two weeks for him to remember all the names of the people in Alamut.
And there was a goddamn lot, that was for sure.
It took a few late nights just to remember them all and it was all thanks to the small journal he kept in the hidden compartment of his desk.
He had tried to buy that journal during one of his earlier trips to the town below the castle from a traveling merchant but a few townspeople had stopped him and bought it for him. He knew it was their way of trying to thank him for the free meat so he simply smiled and thanked them.
The journal itself he had mainly used to write down any orders Diya al-Dīn had concerning any of the deliveries he would make and he made sure to doublecheck his notes before giving any medicine. He knew it made it seem like he was being dutiful but…
In reality, the notes also had all the names, occupations, and brief descriptions of the people in Alamut that he knew of.
And, to ensure that no one would notice he had a cheat sheet that he had regularly memorized every night, he wrote them on the margins of the pages in the Isu script.
He was going to continue to ignore the implication of the fact that he was now fluent in both the language and the writing of the Isus and just focused on making sure the script looked like they were meant to be simple doodles.
To make it more complicated, Desmond also made sure that the Isu script, which seemed to be easier to translate in Latin first, would have to be translated into Kanien'kéha instead to make sense.
He couldn’t risk anyone realizing that they were a ‘code’ and translating it to Latin, after all.
Thanks to that little journal of his, he remembered pretty much everyone he had ever met in Alamut. It made people feel special when Desmond remembered their name. When he was sure that they wouldn’t be weirded out, he even goes out of his way to ask something he had noted about them. Simple ‘How’s your ankle?’ or ‘Is that the dress you bought last time?’ that would make them believe that Desmond remembered their last conversation.
It was a ‘habit’ he had honed and mastered as a bartender, understanding that the best tippers were those who believed they had been special to the bartender in some way or form.
Although, it took a few years before Desmond could completely balance making them feel special and making them believe Desmond was actually attracted to them with the caveat of not sounding creepy.
And now, Desmond was using it to get the people of Alamut to like him.
… and make it easier for him to make sure they remained ignorant of his plans.
Although, knowing that the Assassins were onto him from the get-go, Desmond was now wondering if the townspeople and the nymphs were on to him as well.
From the sweet smile Laleh had given him as she told him to relax and take all the time he wanted, he was pretty sure he might be on to something.
Maybe not the townspeople but the nymphs?
Most probably.
Desmond quickly took off his clothes and dropped them to the floor before quickly taking a bath, silently thanking Laleh for bringing him to a room with warm water.
Desmond truly didn’t need to take a bath but he needed to take one to be sure everyone believed that it had been his only reason for being in the thermae. Once he had taken what amounted to more of a quick ‘bath’ and made sure to use the soap in the private room so that anyone close enough would smell it on him, he quickly changed his clothes and shoved his old ones into the small bag he brought with him. All of his clothes were simple, mostly tunics and pants because they were the easiest to move in but he also had a few pieces of thobes that had actually been a gift from a few of the villagers. Those were usually the ones he wore when he was sure that he would not be doing any running or such.
For now, he was still wearing a normal tunic and pants because he wasn’t sure what the last task would be. Desmond activated his Eagle Vision and looked around, ignoring the two figures definitely doing more than taking a bath two rooms to his right.
It seemed that luck was still on his side because one of the laundry baskets inside the private room two doors away from the room with those… two… was glowing gold.
And the coast was clear as far as Desmond’s Eagle Vision could show him so he quickly but quietly left the room he had been given and made his way to the door with the glowing basket.
It was, of course, locked and that had been the main reason why one of the nymphs would always guide him to the private rooms. They kept each room locked and every nymph would make Desmond wait for a bit in the entrance leading to the hallway of the private rooms while they enter a room that was to the right of the hallway.
Hilde was the only one who didn’t take the time to go to that room and seemed to have a key of her own.
Well, considering she was the head of the nymphs here, Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if Hilde had a skeleton key of some sort.
Of course, Desmond didn’t need a skeleton key…
Since he still had the skills of a great lockpicking expert.
Oh… and Haytham Kenway.
In the end, he got in and out of the room in under three minutes, shoving the used recruit uniform into his bag quickly and making sure to lock the door afterward.
He would consider it a successful mission when…
“Oh, are you already leaving, Desmond?”
A familiar voice asked from behind Desmond just as he was about to enter the entrance area of the thermae.
“Hey, Hilde-” Desmond’s words closed in his throat when he noticed the wet, absolutely not leaving anything to the imagination, sheer dress that Hilde and Maria were wearing. Even their hair was wet and there was a slight flush to their faces.
Desmond seriously didn’t want to pry. He absolutely did not want to get in between whatever drama or understanding Khalid and Hilde had concerning both their apparent betrothal and what jobs Hilde does as a nymph.
Yup.
Definitely just going to ignore that.
He kept his eyes trained on Hilde’s eyes as he said, “Yeah, I just wanted to take a quick bath to get the…”
Desmond vaguely waved his hand as he awkwardly said, “You know…”
Hilde chuckled and nodded as she said, “Oh, yes. We heard you got into quite an accident in the aviary.”
He didn’t but he was definitely making sure his words were vague enough that they would assume he did.
Desmond just shrugged as he replied, “Well, it’s one of those days, I guess.”
“I’m sure your day has been quite eventful.” Hilde commented with a smile, “Will you be returning to the mentor then?”
Desmond wasn’t sure if news of how he knew of Diya al-Dīn’s true identity had already spread to the thermae but he was pretty sure they didn’t know that Desmond had gone into the harem and met with his wives.
Why would they, after all…
There was no logical explanation as to why Desmond, an unmarried young man, would be allowed into the harem unless he was being prepped into becoming a eunuch to work in the harem.
And no.
That was not the kind of lifestyle Desmond had any interest in at all.
Also, it was telling that everyone he had met started to call Diya al-Dīn ‘the mentor’ when they usually call him ‘the doctor’ whenever Desmond was around.
He did wonder if the older women in the harem were nymphs who had ‘retired’ from the thermae.
Well, it was not his place to ask and Hilde would just be curious as to why he knew about the older women in the harem.
“I still have some things to do,” Desmond replied instead of actually answering Hilde’s question.
“Oh, I see.” Hilde continued to smile as she said, “Then good luck with those things, Desmond.”
“Thanks.” Desmond nodded at Hilde as he said, “I’ll see you around, Hilde.”
He turned to nod at Maria as he said, “You too, Maria.”
Maria froze the moment their eyes met before she lowered her head and nodded, “Yes.”
Desmond simply smiled at her, already used to her…
Desmond wasn’t sure if ‘gloomy disposition’ would be accurate since it wasn’t like he knew Maria all that well.
All he knew was Maria seemed to follow Hilde a lot. They might be best friends or maybe she was supposed to be Hilde’s secretary or something?
Desmond wasn’t quite sure on that front.
Oh well, if he learned of it, he’ll learn of it. It wasn’t like he was trying to snoop into their lives to the point of being rude, after all. With their goodbyes done, Desmond left the thermae.
Just when he was thinking of returning to Diya al-Dīn’s tower, he heard a familiar cry of an eagle and he looked up, seeing the eagle fly above him and before landing on the edge of the roof. Bennu let out a cry before flying off the rooftop.
Desmond watched Bennu fly away for a bit before circling back towards him, letting out another cry that sounded annoyed if that was even possible.
Desmond was going to assume he wanted to follow him so he looked around just to make sure no one was around to see him before he began to run towards the direction Bennu had been flying towards.
The eagle led him to the left side of the thermae where the flowing water continued to move all around Alamut. Bennu landed on the ground near the flowing water and looked expectantly at Desmond as he held out his leg to him. Desmond crouched and took the small silver key that was tied to his leg, frowning when he recognized the engraving on the head.
It wasn’t the insignia of the Brotherhood.
No.
It was an Isu word.
‘Sacred Voice’.
That was… Minerva’s title in the Capitoline Triad.
What were the odds?
Bennu let out a cry and used his right wing to tap the flowing water in front of them. Desmond went on his arms and knees to look at where Bennu had tapped and blinked.
That…
That did look like false bottom.
Desmond flipped it open and it revealed a keyhole so Desmond used the key that Bennu just gave him, turning it to the right but it wouldn’t budge so he turned it to the left instead.
There were the almost inaudible sounds of gears turning and Desmond turned the key back before taking it out. He flipped the false bottom back down before following the sounds of the gears into the nearby wall, covered slightly by shrubbery. He parted the shrubbery and saw a small opening underneath.
Just enough for a person to jump down legs first.
Hearing an almost ticking sound coming from the hole, he quickly jumped down and, as he expected, the hole closed up just half a minute or so after he had jumped.
It reminded Desmond of the Assassins Tombs back in Italia which might mean something that Desmond wasn’t sure about yet.
More importantly...
Desmond twisted in midair and he landed on his back, grunting as he fell to the bed-like thing that cushioned his fall.
Now that he could feel it against his back, it felt more like some kind of fabric that had been placed on top of a large stack of hay.
Which was nice.
Desmond never did like the feeling of hay sticking all over his robes.
No.
Not robes.
Tunic and pants.
He jumped off it and looked around, eyes going wild as he realized that…
Shit.
Desmond wasn’t even sure where he was right now.
It was dark with the only source of light being…
The small lamp that an Assassin wearing Master Assassin robes was holding, standing a few feet away.
Desmond watched as the Assassin approached him and placed the lamp about two feet away from Desmond, just enough to light the both of them before he sat on the fabric-covered haystack.
The Assassin turned to face him and patted the space next to him as he said, “Sit with me.”
Desmond was slightly surprised by the low voice but his lips curved into a smile and he sat next to the Assassin as he asked, “Do you guys normally lower your voice whenever you go out?”
“People don’t expect a woman to be an Assassin after all,” Dvora said with her usual voice although it was slightly muffled by the cloth over her lower face.
Another way to hide her identity, Desmond assumed.
To be fair, hiding their lower face with a fabric of some kind seemed to be something the Assassins in Alamut usually do. The only ones who didn’t do it seemed to be Oded, the recruits, and Khalid.
Although, Desmond noticed that a lot of them pull it down whenever Desmond was in the vicinity and he wondered if that was for his benefit. For him to recognize their faces…
“You were surprised, weren’t you?” Dvora teasingly asked and Desmond was sure she was smirking underneath her mask, “Three women as the mentors of the Brotherhood?”
Desmond hummed, unsure if it was okay to tell her that he normally would call them a council instead of mentors but that might be taken as rude.
Especially since the term council might be taken as something lower than mentor considering how that was pretty much how the council in Masyaf functioned.
“Unfortunately for you, that is not the question I will answer.” Dvora said lightly and turned to look at the sky in front of them, “Did you know that there used to be female Hidden Ones?”
Sorta?
Desmond remembered the statue of Amunet back in Villa Auditore’s Sanctuary but he thought she had been one of the Proto-Assassin, someone who had been given her title as an Assassin centuries after her death by the Brotherhood.
Although, considering how the Hidden Ones were the ‘origin’ of the Brotherhood, did that mean that Amunet was a Hidden One?
“I don’t… I don’t really know anything about the Hidden Ones.” Desmond answered even though he was unsure if that would reflect badly on the leading theory that he was a descendant of the Hidden Ones.
“Yes, Khalid had informed our beloved about that.” Dvora nodded, “They believe that you were trained in the ways of the Hidden Ones but your parents were not Hidden Ones. Just descendants of them that remembered ‘family traditions’.”
They were… technically correct?
Considering both of his parents were Assassins and descendants of great Assassins and the Brotherhood’s practices and traditions had origins from the Hidden Ones, he was technically trained in the ways of the Hidden Ones but they weren’t necessarily Hidden Ones.
At the very least, Desmond was pretty sure that he could argue it wasn’t a lie.
Just… not exactly the truth.
“The Hidden Ones accepted everyone, regardless of their blood or their body.” Dvora continued to explain and Desmond remained quiet, listening as she continued, “Until… the great fire that devoured everything the Hidden Ones left behind.”
“Alamut used to have three mentors.” Dvora explained, “We don’t know when the practice started or why but the idea had been there should always be three mentors. We believe they had based it on the statues they found while they were expanding Alamut by digging underneath, to build a secret tunnel that they could use to traverse all over the castle grounds and the town itself.”
Desmond paused.
Did that mean…
The Hidden Ones had already found the temple underneath Alamut?
Was… was this part of the temple, rebuilt to become tunnels for the Hidden Ones?
“Only having one mentor… that practiced started with Hassan-i Sabbah.” Dvora continued, “He was… charismatic, to say the least. Usually, the imam and ruler of Alamut could not be part of the mentors but Hassan-i Sabbah took both titles for himself with the support of most of the people of Alamut and the Hidden Ones back then…”
“Hassan-i Sabbah wasn’t even a Hidden One.” Dvora said, “He took over the people and the Hidden Ones and…”
Dvora sighed, “I should probably stop here. That’s not the question I’m meant to answer.”
Well.
It was definitely a question that Desmond now had!
If Hassan-i Sabbah wasn’t a Hidden One then what was he???
“The three mentors back then led the rebellious Hidden Ones and one of them had been a woman that Hassan-i Sabbah wanted to make his wife.” Dvora stated and Desmond was already dreading the drama he would have to listen to, “We’re not exactly sure if he had wanted to make her his wife because they both loved one another or if it was a way to legitimize his conquer of Alamut, especially when it’s said that the woman he wanted was supposedly a descendant of Wahsūdān ibn-Marzubān, the king that led the construction of the castle.”
“She led the rebellion and burned down everything they could get their hands on, maybe even killed the Hidden Ones who sided with Hassan-i Sabbah. That one doesn’t have any actual records supporting it though.” Dvora noted before continuing, “They say Hassan-i Sabbah had been so angry that this woman had gone against him, that had pressed her hidden blade on his throat for a brief second, and he turned that anger into this…”
Dvora waved her hand in front of them…
No.
Above them.
At the thermae.
“Women cannot become Assassins because they are weak.” Dvora said coldly, “They must be protected, must be cherished…”
“Must be kept in these beautiful cages like singing birds.”
Desmond felt like it wasn’t his proper place to comment on this.
Honestly, Desmond wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to say to that.
Although…
“You three are Assassins.” Desmond reminded her with furrowed brows.
Dvora turned to face him once more and the wrinkling on the skin by her eyes made it clear that she was smirking once more.
“Nobody knows but our beloved.” Dvora stated and poked Desmond’s nose as she added, “And how we become Assassins even after what had happened here is a story for another time.”
“At this point, making the Assassins try to understand that women could do what they could do is too…”
Dvora was quiet for a moment before she continued, “Too much work.”
“Seriously?” Desmond dryly asked.
If Altaïr had known about the three of them, he would have appreciated their support when he pushed for the women to be allow-
Wait.
Desmond frowned and rubbed his chin.
He didn’t have any memories of Altaïr ever meeting the three of them.
No.
He didn’t remember anything about Alamut at all.
Not until Altaïr and Darim stayed there after Abbas’ coup and, by then…
Alamut had accepted Altaïr as the mentor.
“We would be trying to change the minds of men and women who had grown up believing Hassan-i Sabbah’s words.” Dvora said calmly, “It would take a powerful man, a man that they cannot help but respect and believe in for them to believe such words. To trust a decision that would change their beliefs and traditions.”
“Sadly, our beloved is not that person. He has the respect of the people but they do not see him on the same pedestal as Hassan-i Sabbah.” Dvora’s voice grew quieter as she continued, “And we are just three women, married to him and loved by him. They would argue that love has made him lose his reasoning and he is indulging us.”
“Especially since one of his beloveds is a descendant of the woman who tried to kill Hassan-i Sabbah.”
“Wait. What?”
“Now then, here’s your final task…” Dvora handed him a small folded paper that looked like the same paper as the one she had tied to the eagle’s leg.
Desmond quietly took the paper, unsure of how to process that last bombshell.
Jesus Fucking Christ.
It was like these four lovey-dovey-husband-and-wives were out to make sure Desmond would be surprised and get drowned by new questions every time they answered one.
He unfolded the paper just as Dvora stated, “Your next task… is to find the Crusaders’ spy here.”
God fucking da-
Desmond froze when he felt Dvora’s hand on the top of his head.
Her hand was warm and her voice was gentle as she said, “Don’t worry too much. We already know who the spy is.”
“Then this is a test…” Desmond commented as he folded the paper once more.
He already knew that but it was still a bit annoying.
“Yes, it is.” Dvora answered and Desmond couldn’t help the way his body slightly relaxed as she continued to gently caress his hair, “And that is why you don’t have to worry.”
He could not see her expression but a part of him that he knew he shouldn’t listen to wanted to believe that she wasn’t smirking at him this time.
That the wrinkles on the skin around her eyes were because she was gently smiling as she said, “Because you are doing so well, dear child.”
Notes:
Shoutout to Kastaborous for the idea that Desmond would just steal robes in full view and book it, ending with an Aladdin-esque chase sequence. Honestly, if I had more time, I would have edited this chapter to have that kind of plan instead just to make Desmond say “You said don’t get caught so… I didn’t.” cheekily. I still hope you guys enjoy this chapter even if I went for the “caught meaning do not be seen” idea for this one. :)
Chapter Text
Dvora left soon after she informed him of his final task and told him that she was sure he could find his way out which…
Desmond was pretty sure she left after dropping that bombshell because she was teasing him.
Really, she and Diya al-Dīn enjoyed making people react too much.
Or was it just him?
Desmond wasn’t sure if she was teasing him or really did believe he could find his way out…
Although…
She had left her lamp without a word and when he had walked to where she had disappeared to, there were stones that glistened when the light of the lamp hit them.
And they were definitely leading somewhere.
He used his Eagle Vision to confirm what he had expected.
Dvora was walking using a different path…
But the path with the slightly glittering stones flashed as gold to him.
Which meant it was the correct path.
Another one of their tests to see if Desmond would notice the stones?
Or did they already know that Desmond would notice them and use them as a way to guide him?
If it was Diya al-Dīn, it would be so easy for Desmond to believe that they were meant to guide him. Hell, if he knew for certain Dvora had prepared the stones, he would be more inclined to believe that they were meant to be a guide than another test.
But if Raiza had been the one to prepare them…
Desmond couldn’t help but believe it was another one of her tests.
Well, there was nothing Desmond could do but try and find this spy in the town below the castle.
Which was easier said than done.
But first things first…
Desmond needed to find a way out of here.
Well…
Might as well see where these glistening pebbles would lead him.
Right in the outside gate of Alamut Castle, apparently.
To be more exact, Desmond had to climb a few flights of stairs which led to some kind of brick wall that had a keyhole on it. He snuffed out the lamp and placed it on what seemed to be a hook on the wall to his right before he used the key Bennu gave him and he only needed to wait for a second before the brick wall slid to the side and he stepped out to find himself standing in the archway of the gates that separated Alamut Castle and the town below it as the wall slid closed behind him.
Okay then.
That was definitely one of the riskier ‘secret passages’. Any of the guards stationed at the gates or the patrols could have seen him.
If he hadn’t first checked with his Eagle Vision, of course.
So then…
No harm done… For now.
It was time for Desmond to finally tackle the last task.
The town was bigger than the village below Masyaf, probably twice the size of Monteriggioni by Desmond’s estimate.
So this would mean he had his work cut out for him.
… Had he not had his Eagle Vision.
The Eagle Vision… was strange.
It wasn’t an omnipotent tool that would point Desmond where he would find whatever it was he was looking for.
It could only point at possibilities.
The more he narrowed his ‘search criteria’, the less number of targets shrouded in gold he would see.
Back when he was looking for the herbs and other plants Diya al-Dīn had requested, his knowledge of where these plants and herbs might grow helped narrow the search to the forest he ended up in. Now that he thought about it, it was highly possible that the forest itself was being cared for to ensure all the plants that Diya al-Dīn needed would be available.
It seemed he truly believed Rashid’s description of Alamut and lowered his expectation which, in turn, simply bit him in the ass in the end.
But going back to the Eagle Vision, Desmond needed to narrow his search parameter.
A spy working for the Crusaders…
A spy would need to have access to information in some form or another.
They should also be someone people wouldn’t expect to be a spy.
He could not deny the possibility that it was someone working or staying in the castle, a scholar or a nymph or…
An Assassin.
But it seemed so risky for the Crusaders to let an Assassin as their spy, even if Alamut was thought of as 'weak'.
Also, there has to be a reason why the path led him to just outside of the gates leading to the castle, making the lower castletown nearer to him than the castle itself.
It had to be a clue.
Maybe even one Dvora had given him.
So, for now, he would narrow his search further by assuming the spy was in the lower town for now.
If he wasn't, that's when he'll start checking the castle.
… or maybe Desmond just didn't want to think the traitors could be someone he already knew and was friends with.
Desmond frowned as he stayed perched on top of the castle gates overlooking the town underneath.
There were too many golds even with these parameters.
He needed more information.
“Desmond!”
Desmond blinked to deactivate his Eagle Vision before he leaned back and looked down behind him, waving his hand as he greeted the Assassin who called out to him, “Hey, Nahir!”
He waved at the other two Assassins with Nahir as well, “You guys in charge of guarding the gates today?!”
The oldest of Rawiya’s brothers crossed his arms as he shouted, “It’s dangerous to sit there! Get down!”
Oh, was this what they called an older brother scolding?
Huh.
This would be the first time Desmond became a target of such a thing. His memories of Federico Auditore always made him seem like a cool brother, more inclined to join or tease his brother than scold him.
Then again, with how vague and faulty his memories had become, he wouldn’t be surprised if he simply no longer have any memories of Federico scolding Ezio.
Desmond turned to look at the front once more before backflipping off the gates, making Nahir shout his name in surprise and worry, “Desmond!”
Desmond turned in midair so that he landed on the conveniently placed haystack right below him on his back and quickly rolled out of it, patting his clothes and hair just as quickly in a move so natural it was clear to everyone watching that he had done this quite a lot.
Well…
To their eyes anyway.
For Desmond, he was just going to the motion that his Bleeds used to do after every leap of faith.
“So the rumors are true, the mentor finally confronted you.” Nahir noted before letting out a tired sigh, “Still, I would prefer it if you don’t do anything dangerous until you’ve been officially accepted as a recruit at the very least.”
Desmond tilted his head, ignoring how the rumor lacked any mention of Diya al-Dīn’s wives, “Why? It’s not like I’ll do things differently even if I’m a recruit. I’d still jump the same way I just did.”
“At the very least, it would give us a sense of peace that Oded had taught you the proper way to perform a leap of faith.” Nahir said as he crossed his arms once more, “Even if you appear to know how to do it, it is better for a Master Assassin to teach you the proper way so that we can be sure you would be safe.”
There was really no way a leap of faith could be completely safe.
That was the very premise of it.
To take a leap and have faith that one would be alright in the end.
But he wasn’t going to tell that to Nahir. Unlike the recruits who liked to listen to him (and most probably listened to him because they also believed he was this supposed descendant of a Hidden One), Nahir seemed pretty set on being a role model of some sort and Desmond had a feeling that his close age to Nahir’s youngest brother would only make him… nag Desmond more if Desmond try to stand his ground.
Was this what it felt like to have an older brother that was trying to be responsible?
No offense to Federico, of course. Desmond (and Ezio) had always thought of him as cool… when he wasn’t teasing Ezio or being hungover because he spent the entire night in the company of women.
It… wasn’t a bad feeling.
But Desmond didn’t have time for any nagging.
“Fine. I’ll refrain from doing anything dangerous…” … for someone like him anyway… “Until I learn the proper way from Oded.”
… Whatever that was supposed to be.
Nahir stared at him quietly for a moment before he let out another tired sigh. He rubbed his forehead as he said, “You’re just going to ignore my words once I can no longer see you, aren’t you?”
“I’ll remember your words.”
Which was true.
He was going to remember them.
But he was also going to ignore them.
Nahir’s lips curved into a resigned smile as he said, “I can see why you and Rawiya get along.”
Nahir’s smile grew softer as he said, “Thank you.”
Desmond blinked at hearing such heartfelt gratitude.
“For being Rawiya’s friend.”
“Oh.” Desmond gave Nahir a smile as he said, “There’s no need to thank me. Rawiya is a good person.”
And… to be completely honest…
Desmond wasn’t sure if he could consider Rawiya a friend.
“I should go.” Desmond said before Nahir could continue their conversation, “I still have something to do for Diya al-Dīn before the end of the day.”
“Ah, your final task as the doctor’s assistant then.” Nahir nodded, “Don’t let me keep you and….”
Nahir’s smile was soft and sincere as he said, “Good luck tomorrow, Desmond.”
Friendship… was a bit of a complicated subject for Desmond. Growing up on the Farm, he was pretty much isolated from the other children thanks to who his parents were. Desmond wasn’t sure if they were afraid that befriending Desmond meant getting the same rigid and painful training schedule as he had or if they were jealous of the ‘favoritism’ his parents showed. In New York, he had a good relationship with his colleagues but he wouldn’t necessarily say he was close to any of them nor did he consider them friends.
He always assumed friends would be the people he could tell everything to, even his past. But he never fostered any relationship that he felt like he could do such a thing.
And now…
There was no way he was going to tell people the truth of his predicament at the moment. That would simply be… well…
He didn’t think anyone would understand them.
No.
That wasn’t right.
There was one person Desmond was sure would understand him.
That… wasn’t right as well.
There was only one person who Desmond wished would understand him.
But he wasn’t here in Alamut and Desmond was planning to stay out of his life until…
Until…
Until he lost everything and was forced to come to Alamut…
Desmond sighed.
This was why he tried not to think about him. Thinking about him always made Desmond…
Feel guilty.
But he needed to preserve history as the calculations intended it. Until he was sure he wasn’t going to destroy the world by changing his life in Masyaf, Desmond needed to stay away from him.
And really, it was better if he focused on finding the spy than being maudlin over a choice he had made a month ago.
Desmond continued to stay perched at the edge of the rooftop of one of the taller buildings in the town. It wasn’t as good as the view he had from the gates but it would have to do.
Now, a spy usually had two main jobs: information gathering and…
Sabotaging…
This meant that the spy would have to have some form of access to the castle.
He couldn’t deny the possibility that the spy could be one of the Assassins regularly in town like the fruit stall merchant.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth but considering Haras and Harash had betrayed the Brotherhood… wait, no. That wasn’t exactly right. Haras and Harash would betray Masyaf, he couldn’t deny the possibility that an Assassin here in Alamut would do the same.
If the spy wasn’t an Assassin, there were only a few ways one could sabotage the Assassins.
Sabotaging the water supply wasn’t possible as the well the town used wasn’t used by the Brotherhood since they used the flowing water instead.
Okay then.
Supplies?
Desmond wasn’t sure about that. The entire month he had been in Alamut, he had never seen any supply delivery coming from the town. They even had their own forge with a few blacksmiths using it and Desmond was sure it was the town who would request some things from the Brotherhood’s blacksmiths.
He was also pretty sure the main blacksmith was a scholar as he had seen him in the scholar’s tower once or twice when he was visiting Khalid to deliver more stuff.
Speaking of which, the scholar’s tower seemed to be in charge of some of the supplies the Brotherhood needed and Diya al-Dīn (and Desmond) was the one who would give them medicine so that would take out medical and other supplies in his mental list.
This meant…
Food.
The marketplace at the center of town had been a bust.
Well, mission-wise anyway.
The people in town already knew him by sight so there was a lot of ‘Desmond! Come, have this!’ that distracted him.
A happy distraction, of course.
That meant he was now holding a bag and a basket filled with snacks he’d have to eat before they rot and little trinkets that he’d have to find a place for in his room.
To be completely honest, he had bought a few trinkets in the past, mostly small wooden carvings of animals, so he could use them as a way to find out if anyone touched his things while he was away. The fluffy pillows though were because Desmond was sick of sleeping on hard floors and Isu-related caves but he couldn’t get a mattress.
Now, it seemed like the townspeople assumed Desmond liked small trinkets and soft pillows.
Also…
Flowers.
For some reason, every time Desmond was in the town’s marketplace, the son of the florist would give him a small bouquet of flowers.
They were just plain flowers that Desmond was sure didn’t have any medicinal properties.
He even checked with Diya al-Dīn to be sure and the man just raised an eyebrow in amusement and reminded him to make sure to water the flowers.
Still, it would be rude not to accept them so he always did, putting the bouquet on top of the basket now filled with fruits (from the Assassin pretending to be a fruit stall vendor) and other small snacks that Desmond would eat after dinner.
He had chalked the merchants in the marketplace as clear for now and made a hasty retreat, going to the butcher’s next.
The butcher kept asking when’s the next time he would go hunting because, and this was his own words, he hoped Desmond would bring the actual carcass because he missed having to skin and prepare the meat himself.
From what Desmond could gather, there were a few hunters nearby that would come to the castle to sell their kills but Alamut castle itself did not have one.
The butcher could, in theory, sabotage the meat he would sell but Desmond just suffered through a long passionate speech about how fresh meat was the best and how meat quality deteriorated at an alarming rate.
To be frank, the butcher appeared too… ‘passionate’ about his craft to use it for sabotage.
Still, he wasn’t in the complete clear since he could still use his job to gather information.
So Desmond was going to chalk him up to ‘clear but verify’ for now.
His next stop was the bakery and he sighed at the smell of fresh bread. The baker was busy talking to a customer, the young wife of one of the Assassins usually in charge of guarding the first gates of Alamut, so Desmond stayed quiet and eavesdropped as he tried to remember what he knew about the baker.
He was sure the baker was the son of the previous baker. He had returned to Alamut a few years back (which was a red flag) and took over his father’s business.
He was kind to everyone and…
Honestly, he was Desmond’s prime suspect.
For the sole reason that… he always asked about how Diya al-Dīn was whenever Desmond bought bread from him.
Seeing that he was busy at the moment, Desmond quietly left and walked around the building he used as both his bakery and his home. Desmond placed the bag and basket he had on the rooftop of the building next to the baker's home/bakery before hopping back down. He opened an unlocked window from the back of the one-story building and slipped inside after making sure no one would see him.
The baker’s home was decent enough. There were decorations that made it clear that this was the home of his family since… Well… Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if they had been here in Alamut before the founding of the Brotherhood.
Which meant…
Desmond went on his knees and began to quietly knock the floor of the biggest room that seemed to serve as a bedroom. Right next to a table in the left corner of the room, Desmond heard a different knocking sound. He activated his Eagle Vision to get an idea of the size of the false bottom, letting out a hum as he noticed it was only three planks of wood that could be pried open. Just enough for a person to hide in.
He only pried one open and used his Eagle Vision to see even if it was pitch black underneath.
There was a small box that Desmond could barely get by lying on the ground with his hand outstretched into the hole. It would be easy for someone of the baker’s height, of course, but Desmond was still growing, damn it!
Desmond finally managed to get it and pulled it out, being careful to remember the exact position he found it.
The box was locked because, of course, it was.
Thankfully, it was easy to lockpick and he had it open in two seconds.
Inside were pieces of paper, most of which were blank.
Except for one.
There was a folded piece of paper in the middle of the stack and Desmond was sure that it was intentional. The baker was probably hoping anyone who saw this box would stop searching after the first few pieces of blank paper or they would flip the pieces of paper to quickly check them and not notice the folded piece of paper.
Sucks for him, Desmond’s Eagle Vision marked it as gold immediately.
So Desmond unfolded it and read its content.
It was a report that showed the Assassins’ patrol routes and guard change.
Shit.
As well as a rumor about…
Desmond getting adopted by Diya al-Dīn???
What.
The.
Fuck.
Nur, the one with a bow and arrows, was waiting for him on a nearby bench to the right of the building where he had left the basket and bag. She was wearing a niqab and a dress that covered her entire body, leaving only her hands…
Desmond nodded at her before he sat next to her, leaning forward as he rested his arms on his knees, waiting as she continued to string the bouquet he had received into a flower crown.
“Is Diya al-Dīn going to adopt me?” Desmond asked as he stared at the setting sun.
“You’d run away if he tries,” Nur stated in a calm tone.
Okay.
Yeah.
He was definitely going to if he couldn’t stop Diya al-Dīn from doing something that stupid.
“Rumors are rumors, dear child,” Nur stated before gently placing the finished flower crown on Desmond’s head.
It was a bit too big so it was a bit tilted but Desmond didn’t mind.
The scent of the flowers was calming.
“He’s dangerous,” Desmond said as he turned to stare at Nur.
“All spies are.” Nur reminded him before turning to face the home of the baker as she said, “But we must not do anything. The spy must remain here.”
“Better a spy we know than a new spy we don’t know, huh,” Desmond commented as he turned to stare at the setting sun instead.
“And keeping him here, letting him report what we let him see, makes it easier for the Crusaders to believe that we are weak.” Nur added, “That it would be better for them to focus elsewhere.”
Desmond frowned.
Another way for Alamut to stay safe while Masyaf…
While he…
Desmond closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself down.
Nur waited until Desmond opened his eyes once more before she asked, “Why is our husband not the mentor?”
Desmond blinked and turned to stare at Nur.
Okay…
He was curious about that one but he wasn’t expecting them to answer such a personal question.
Nur didn’t seem to mind as she explained, “Our beloved’s father died clinging to his power as the imam , the lord, and the mentor of Alamut. He… was a difficult man.”
“A man who tried to climb out of the shadows Rashid had cast upon us all.” Nur continued, “Our beloved does not wish to walk the same path as his father. And…”
Nur turned and the way her eyes wrinkled made it seem like she was smiling at Desmond as she said, “He believes it is better to rule Alamut with those he trusts than drown in the same pit that his father and grandfather had.”
“A man alone on a throne is liable to making the wrong decision without anyone being able to stop him but…” Nur took the bread that one of the villagers had given him, “Four people sharing the same power have a better chance of stopping one another from making a mistake.”
“But you can only share your power with someone you trust.” Nur continued and threw the bread across the rooftop of the baker’s home, “Someone you believe with all your heart.”
“That is why we are the mentors of Alamut.” Nur turned with the telltale wrinkles in her eyes that made Desmond believe she was smiling at him once more, “Because our beloved knows he doesn’t have to be alone in carrying such a responsibility and we… we love him and Alamut too much to say no.”
Chapter 19
Notes:
So, just wanted to give you guys a head’s up. I have to move homes due to familial obligations and I’m still unsure when that’s going to happen, only that it will either happen this week or next week. Anyway, depending on when it’ll happen, I’m hoping it won’t affect next week’s updates but, just in case, there’s a possibility that there won’t be any updates next week, sorry, guys :(
Chapter Text
“You will start your training with one of the batches of recruits tomorrow,” Nur informed him while he was contemplating the new information they had just dumped on him.
At this point, they could tell Desmond that they were direct descendants of Minerva or something and Desmond would believe them simply because of the sheer ‘what the fuck’ moments he had gone through on this day alone.
Oh god.
He just jinxed himself, didn’t he?
“Oded had been notified of your inclusion.”
He and the rest of the Brotherhood, Desmond was pretty sure.
“Training starts at the sound of the first bell.” Nur stood as he continued, “The recruit robes you took will be your robes for tomorrow. You’ll be given three more sets tomorrow as well.”
The robes… that were obviously dirty…
From the wrinkles on the skin near Nur’s eyes, it was clear that she was smiling, most probably knowing what Desmond was thinking about.
“Good to know,” Desmond said instead.
He needed to find a clean set of robes. It was already too late to wash the ones he took.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, Desmond,” Nur said before leaving him, walking out and blending into town like she was simply one of them.
Desmond watched her until she disappeared, most probably using one of the hidden passages once more. He wondered if they ever leave as Assassins… Dvora had worn Master Assassin robes when he met her so… maybe?
Desmond did notice that the Assassins here in Alamut would cover half their face whenever they leave the castle for their patrols.
Desmond also did see the strip of fabric around everyone’s neck during the time Nahir and his team found him after the wolf incident and Rawiya and Khalid also wore the same fabric around their neck during their hunt but none of them ever used it to cover half their face.
Maybe they always pulled it off because they were talking to Desmond.
Oh well, Desmond would probably learn if it was a common practice around this part sooner or later.
First things first, he needed to get a new set of robes.
He quickly jumped onto the nearest rooftop and began to make his way back to the castle.
… He also needed to apologize to Hilde for stealing the robes he had right now.
“Desmond!”
Desmond stopped running and stepped to the edge of the rooftop he had been on, looking down curiously as he recognized Khalid’s voice.
Khalid waved at him while some of the townspeople who were just minding their own business stopped and looked at where Khalid was looking.
“You look better.” Khalid commented with an easy grin before asking, “Come join me.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a grim smile.
Khalid chuckled and shook his head as he said, “I promise I’m not going to get you in trouble.”
There was a pause before he added, “This time.”
Desmond sighed and dropped down the one-story building he had been on (just one of the many homes around this area if he was not mistaken).
Some of the people watching them gasped or let out a hum but Desmond ignored them, more interested in asking, “I look better?”
“Running on rooftops.” Khalid began to walk, forcing Desmond to follow him, as he continued, “You look… more comfortable.”
Desmond noticed that they seemed to be headed to the main gates that would lead them out of Alamut as he dryly asked, “So… you think I’m… a descendant of the Hidden Ones too?”
“I honestly thought you were Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad at first,” Khalid admitted and Desmond had to stop himself from reacting to that. Khalid glanced at him before returning his focus to the road ahead of them as he explained, “I saw him a few times while I was in Masyaf. You looked a bit alike. Since a few years have passed since I last saw him, I thought you might be him.”
“Were you… were you the one who told Diya al-Dīn about Altaïr?” Desmond asked.
“I didn’t have to. The mentor asked me if I remembered what Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad looked like after meeting you.” Khalid answered and Desmond noted that Khalid seemed to believe that Diya al-Dīn was the mentor, “Words of Rashid’s favored child has reached Alamut, after all.”
Khalid paused for a moment before he added, “Or maybe it’s Umar that the mentor knows about. I’m not entirely sure.”
“The mentor didn’t believe that you could be him, just so you know.” Khalid added as he turned to look at Desmond, “He thought there was no way Rashid would let go of such a promising ‘child’ if the rumors we’ve heard of him were true.”
It was Khalid’s turn to tilt his head as he asked, “So… why aren’t you surpri-”
“Oh, there they are! Desmond! Khalid!”
They both turned to look ahead of them where Zain was waving both of his hands in excitement. Desmond hummed when he noticed Peredur and Meekhal.
With Rawiya with them as well…
Desmond and Khalid approached them and Desmond smiled at all of them, “Hey, guys. So what’s with the little gathering?”
“Khalid’s treating us to dinner,” Peredur said with a grin.
“Oh, yeah. That deal.” Desmond glanced at Khalid who patted his back.
“The deal was to treat these little fledglings-” Khalid ignored Peredur’s “I’m only a year younger than you, you jerk!” and Desmond just ignored the fact that he was the reason why Peredur knew the word ‘jerk’ while Khalid continued, “-and you so I came and get you.”
Khalid turned to look at Rawiya as he added with an easy smile, “But I’m not treating you.”
“It’s fine. Father gave me enough money to buy a meal from the tavern.” Rawiya replied with a grin.
Peredur coughed out a clear “Rich boy!” which only earned him a light smack on the back of the head from Rawiya who continued to smile at Khalid.
“Nice flowers, by the way, Desmond. You look very pretty.” Rawiya said as he ignored how Peredur was glaring at him while rubbing the back of his head.
Desmond chuckled and touched the flower crown on his head, “Thanks. So… should we go in?”
“Yes!” Zain replied enthusiastically, making Desmond chuckle once more as he followed them inside the only inn in Alamut.
Desmond had only been to the inn twice since he had been in Alamut. The wife of the owner of the inn had a hard childbirth two months before Desmond arrived in Alamut and he had been giving them refills for a medicine that she would take whenever she was in pain. From the herbs and plants he had seen Diya al-Dīn put in it, Desmond was pretty sure the medicine served more as some kind of calming drought.
She seemed to be getting better though since Desmond noticed the usual weekly refills had become more of an every-other-week kind of delivery now.
Hopefully, this meant that she was getting better.
“Wait, wait, wait! We all agree that everyone just gets one meal each!” Khalid reminded them, making Desmond quietly push his drink away from Khalid just in case Khalid decided to throttle Meekhal.
“It is one meal, right?” The usual quiet Meekhal turned to look at the owner who was taking their orders.
The owner, an older man with already graying hair, laughed as he nodded, “Yes, we call it the ‘hungry man’s special’.”
“I have never heard of this at all,” Khalid complained with a groan.
“What? You think we colluded with this outstanding owner to create this special out of the blue so you would pay more than you thought?” Peredur scoffed before saying, “Come on, Khalid. You don’t really think we’d go that far just to screw with you, do you?”
“Yes.” Khalid, Rawiya, and Desmond all answered, making Peredur dramatically gasp as he turned to Desmond.
“You too, Desmond?!” Peredur said in an overly dramatic way that made Desmond chuckle.
“I know it’s what I would do just to screw with Khalid,” Desmond said with a grin, making all three recruits grin as well.
“Fine.” Khalid sighed and rubbed the back of his head, “I’ll allow this since you three went out of your way just to get the upper hand.”
“But…” Khalid narrowed his eyes at the three grinning recruits, “You three better finish everything.”
“Of course.” Peredur grinned as he said, “We are, as you said, children so we’re still growing.”
Khalid just chuckled and turned to look at Desmond, “You getting the ‘hungry man’s special’ too, Desmond?”
“Nah.” Desmond shook his head and turned to look at the owner as he requested, “Just today’s special, please.”
“Sure thing. We’ll add in two pieces of bread for free if you’d like.” The owner said with a smile.
Remembering the true affiliation of the baker, he shook his head as he said, “No, that’s okay. I think I’ll skip the bread today.”
But to make sure that the owner wouldn’t be suspicious, Desmond smiled as he requested, “Can I have a side of rice instead?”
“Sure, we can do that.” The owner nodded as he commented, “Most of you castle folks do prefer rice over bread anyway so we always prepare more than enough just in case.”
“I’ll also have today’s special with rice.” Khalid requested.
“Oh, me too.” Rawiya piped up.
“Alright then, three today’s specials with rice and three ‘hungry man’s specials’.” The owner listed before nodding, “Anything else?”
“We’re good,” Khalid replied before the three recruits could say anything. The owner nodded once more and patted Khalid’s shoulder.
“I’ll bring them once they’re ready.” The owner said before leaving their table.
“You know…” Zain smiled at Khalid as he said, “Dessert is also part of a meal.”
“Fine, fine.” Khalid waved his hand as he said, “We’ll visit the baker after and get some sweet bread.”
“How about we go to the fruit stall instead?” Desmond suggested casually, “Bread might be too heavy for dessert.”
They all stared at him for a moment before Khalid hummed as he said softly, “You learned about our little rat problem, didn’t you?”
Desmond’s lips curved into a mirthless smile as he retorted, “You suggested we eat bread to check if I know, didn’t you?”
“You liked to buy bread every time you visit the town.” Zain noted with a slight frown, “So it’s a bit strange that you’re trying to skip it now.”
“Ah.”
It seemed Desmond had been more predictable than he had thought he was.
“It’s fine.” Khalid patted Desmond’s back, “You should know we throw away the bread we order from that rat just to not rouse his suspicion. You should probably buy his bread now and then to make sure he doesn't get a clue though. But if you really want bread, the kitchen in the castle bakes bread too.”
“You mean those hard pieces of bread you guys take as emergency food?” Desmond dryly asked, remembering the hard bread that Hameez gave him when he had left to go plant picking for the first time.
“We also sometimes throw them to distract wild animals,” Rawiya added with a grin.
“In the kitchen’s defense…” Khalid started with a grin, “They do bake actual bread.”
He poked Desmond on the arm as he continued, “You… just have breakfast too late.”
“That won’t be a problem anymore since you’ll have to wake up earlier now for training,” Rawiya said.
Desmond groaned at the reminder that training started at the crack of dawn.
Zain leaned across the table to pat Desmond’s shoulder as he said, “Don’t worry, Desmond! I’ll wake you up!”
“Thanks, Zain.” Desmond sighed before asking everyone, “So, you all know I’m joining training tomorrow?”
“All of Alamut knows by now, I think.” Rawiya answered, “The mentor talked to Oded about your lesson plan a few hours ago and the recruits who overheard it started telling everyone.”
“Yeah, I fig- Wait. Lesson plan?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head.
“You’ll have to ask Oded about that one.” Rawiya shrugged, “All the recruits said was that the mentor handed him a parchment or something.”
“I heard you’d be joining us after Oded checks how much you know.” Zain added with a grin, “Our batch should be getting initiated before the end of the year.”
“Please, it’s Desmond. He’d be a Master Assassin before these two.” Peredur snarked as he pointed at both Khalid and Rawiya.
“That’s fine with me. I don’t plan on becoming a Master Assassin anyway.” Khalid shrugged while Rawiya just chuckled.
“I’m not in a hurry too. If I get there, I get there.” Rawiya said with an easy grin.
“See what kind of role models we have, Desmond?” Peredur asked with an exaggerated sigh.
“Strive not to be like them but better than them,” Desmond said with what he liked to call his zen expression.
They all stared at him for a moment before everyone started to laugh with Khalid patting Desmond’s back as he said, “You sounded like a pretentious scholar that just finished reading all of Aristotle and Socrates’ works!”
Desmond laughed as well, simply enjoying how fun and light their conversation was right now.
That was when the owner started bringing their order and Desmond blinked when he noticed that the supposed ‘hungry man’s special’ looked like was meant to be eaten by two people with the amount of… well… food on it.
Desmond had never been happy that today’s special was a stew filled with various vegetables and bits of meat that Desmond assumed were leftovers from the goats and deer they had hunted yesterday.
Khalid glared at the three recruits who were grinning at him as he said, “Every. Last. Bite.”
The three recruits simply continued to grin at him.
And Desmond was reminded of the hubris of youth.
The three ended up eating everything but Meekhal was the only one who didn’t look like he was ready to fall over and vomit. If anything, he seemed excited by the prospect of fruits for dessert while his fellow recruits groaned at the prospect of eating more food.
That was when Khalid suggested they take a walk for a bit before getting dessert, giving the poor children some time.
It said a lot that Peredur didn’t snark at being called a child once more and only grunted as the six of them walked out of the tavern after Khalid and Rawiya paid for their food.
Khalid and Desmond walked in front while Rawiya stayed at the back to make sure the recruits would be okay.
Desmond looked behind them and they all seemed too preoccupied trying not to throw up or helping the ones who wanted to throw up not to throw up because Khalid had stressed that throwing up meant forfeiting the other free meals they still had.
Desmond turned to look ahead as they walked the main road in town and asked Khalid quietly, “So… was your special mission to spy on me?”
Khalid chuckled before answering, “I’m sorry to disappoint you but no. The special mission Peredur talked about yesterday is actually about recreating Hidden One techniques and tools.”
Khalid glanced at him as he added, “I’m looking forward to your help with that one, by the way.”
“Well..” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m not sure how much help I would be. I’m not exactly an expert on that one.”
“But you do know things I do not.” Khalid noted, “It’s always fun talking to you about them.”
“Even if it’s me scolding you for being dumb?” Desmond asked dryly.
“We learn from our mistakes.” Khalid replied with a shrug before adding in a solemn tone, “Just to be clear, Desmond.”
Desmond turned his head to look at Khalid when he noticed Khalid was staring at him with the most serious expression Desmond had ever seen Khalid make, “The mentor didn’t order me to get close to you. I wanted to get close to you because I wanted to befriend you.”
It took a moment before Desmond realized what Khalid was saying.
Friends.
Desmond remembered how he had thought that he didn’t have any but…
This casualness he shared with Khalid and the others…
The uncomplicated (by Desmond’s standard anyway) relationship they had.
The easy way Desmond could talk to them…
“Oh.” Desmond’s eyes widened.
He did have friends.
Desmond hadn’t realized it but…
He did have friends…
Desmond’s lips curved into a grin as he said, “Thanks…”
Khalid stared at him for a moment before turning his head to look ahead as he said, “We nerds have to stick together.”
Desmond laughed and patted Khalid’s shoulder twice before saying, “Yeah, we do, buddy.”
“Hey, Khalid. Isn’t that the mentor’s favorite tree?” Rawiya asked and Desmond realized that Khalid had led them a little to the left of the gates that would lead them back to the castle.
Where a lone splintered and charred tree stood.
“Yes, it is!” Khalid announced with a grin, “I figured we should pay our respect.”
Huh.
Considering they thought Diya al-Dīn was the mentor, did that mean this tree was supposed to be Diya al-Dīn’s favorite?
“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Rawiya shouted and Desmond turned around just in time to see Rawiya grab Khalid’s hand just as Khalid had taken out…
“Is that a bomb?!” Desmond shouted as he stepped in front of the three recruits, pushing them away which was hard since Meekhal was built like a goddamn teenage boulder.
“Stop it, Rawiya! You’re going to make me- Ah.”
Desmond pushed the recruits just as Khalid let go of the bomb as both Khalid and Rawiya fell.
There was a loud sound that Desmond could only describe as the sound of some kind of ceramic casing exploding and…
The sound of something liquid splattering… them all.
Desmond had instinctively closed his eyes and he really, really didn’t want to open them. Not when he could feel blood on his face.
And his clothes.
But he knew he had to open his eyes.
He needed to make sure nobody was hurt.
So he used the sleeve of his already drenched shirt to wipe his face until he could feel that he was clean ‘enough’ to open his eyes.
The carnage that greeted him was… certainly a sight to behold.
Desmond, Rawiya, and Khalid had taken most of the… blood…
Ugh.
Desmond’s front was drenched from head to toe while Rawiya and Khalid were drenched from the side that had been facing the explosion, making both of them look like they were mirror versions of the same macabre fashion style of blood and… yeeaaahh… some of the blood had already started to coagulate.
The three recruits faired better with Zain having only gotten a bit thanks to the fact that Desmond had been tall enough to cover the youngest of them. Peredur and Meekhal though had gotten a bit of the blood on the parts that Desmond couldn’t cover with Meekhal taking the most blood of the three recruits thanks to his large size.
Rawiya began to spit out what might be blood that he had accidentally gotten in his mouth since he had been shouting at Khalid when the blood bomb dropped while Khalid just grinned at Desmond as he said, “Well, fresh blood’s a failure too.”
Desmond glared at him as he said, “If the nymphs refuse to let us in the thermae to take a bath, Imma drown you in the well in town.”
“Relax.” Khalid continued to grin as he reminded Desmond, “We’ll just grab a few buckets and clean ourselves using the water flowing at the courtyard.”
Zain paled as he whispered in dread, “All this blood’s going to be hard to wash out.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Zain.” Desmond patted Zain’s head, forgetting his hand was bloody as hell and now Zain’s hair had blood on it as well. Desmond smiled serenely as he announced, “Khalid will do all the laundry for us.”
Chapter 20
Notes:
I bring good news! My move has been pushed to sometime this week so have a new chapter!
Alas, I also bring bad news: this does mean that there's a high possibility that there will be no updates next Monday because of my (hopefully going to happen) move this week :(
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In a land where the truth is hidden in the shadows and the light is the dwelling place of danger and intrigue, a castle stood atop a perilous mountain. Born from the ashes of long-forgotten people of blades and secrecy, the castle became home to their descendants. Their skills and tools long gone, turned to ash by a bloody coup that ended in failure and death.
A quiet tense peace had befallen this castle and its people, fortified by the foolishness of an old man they once called their brother, now lost to them as he stood atop a mountain of his own, far away in the lands of conflict and strife.
From this peace bore solitude, one that seeped into the very foundation of this castle and its people. A peace that must be protected, for it is but the first in such a long time.
And that is when he appears…
A boy no more than fifteen summers, with eyes glistening like honey in the sunlight. Clad in nothing but rags yet holding himself like the shadow is his constant companion. He comes to the castle, asking for work that would fill his belly and keep him warm at night.
What he receives is more than he bargains for.
For the people of this castle could see with just his movements alone that he is one of them.
The question becomes…
Is he from the lands far beyond, a descendant of the people that once called this castle their home?
Or is he one of the many foolish children of the old man of the mountain, having been ordered here to infiltrate the castle and bring ruin to its people?
“So… What do you think?”
Zain tilted his head as he closed the journal he had been reading. His lips curved into a small frown as he said, “It’s… an interesting prologue?”
Peredur nodded his head energetically with an expectant look on his face, making Zain rub the back of his neck as he added unsurely, “Um… It really makes you feel the… uuhhh… mystique of the castle? And… uuuhh…”
“I think you should give them names.” Meekhal suggested as he rummaged through the small bag he had, letting out a triumphant sound of ‘aha!’ before taking out an apple from the bag.
“Of course, they’re going to have names.” Peredur said with a snort, “But that’s for later.”
“Isn’t it a bit weird calling it a castle the entire time?” Meekhal asked before he took a bite of his apple. He continued to talk as he ate, making Zain grimace at his poor manners, “I mean, the whole ‘descendants of the people’ thing is confusing.”
“It’s not confusing.” Peredur argued before turning to face Zain once more as he asked, “Is it?”
“Um…” Seeing both Peredur and Meekhal (who took another bite) staring at him, he finally sighed and admitted, “It is a bit confusing.”
“It’s also wordy.” Meekhal added as he finished his apple, “You used so many words when you can just say ‘These people lived in this castle now’.”
“That’s part of the story!” Peredur argued, “Do you really think people would want to read it if it just said ‘This is our protagonist. His name is Dastan and he’s really cool and mysterious.’?!”
“You’re going to name the character based on Desmond ‘Dastan’?” Zain with a slight tilt of his head and a scrunched-up expression on his face.
“I think saying ‘he has brown eyes’ is better than ‘eyes glistening like honey in the sunlight’…” Meekhal rubbed his chin as he asked, “Is that what you wrote? I don’t remember.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what he wrote.” Zain nodded at Meekhal before turning to stare at Peredur as he asked once more, “Dastan?”
“What? It’s a good name.” Peredur argued, “I can’t use his real name, after all. What do you guys suggest I use?”
“Vega?” Meekhal suggested.
Peredur groaned and hit Meekhal with the only pillow he had as he said, “Come on, get over it! You lost that bet! He’s not connected to the Ibn-La'Ahads. Nahir confirmed it when he went to Masyaf to get the reports from Rashid. He even confirmed that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was training when he visited.”
“Yeah, but remember what he also said?” Meekhal cleared his throat before making his voice deeper, most probably (and embarrassingly) trying to sound like Nahir, “But Desmond does look quite similar to Umar’s boy. From afar, they could be mistaken as siblings.”
“From afar.” Peredur repeated before shaking his head, “You lost the bet, just admit it.”
“The bet’s still on.” Meekhal reminded him, “We don’t have actual confirmation that he is a descendant of the Hidden Ones back in Leicestershire.”
“We should also remember that we don’t know if there are even any bureaus left in Leicestershire.” Meekhal continued, using the core of the apple to point in Peredur’s direction, “The last report we have from what we could salvage from the Hidden Ones’ records is that all bureaus in Crusader land have been abandoned or purged because King Ælfred ordered his knights to hunt everyone down.”
“I personally think he’s both.”
Both Peredur and Meekhal shouted and jumped, holding onto Zain, as Khalid grinned at them as he sat on Peredur’s cot, just a few steps behind where Peredur and Meekhal had been. He simply tilted his head to the side to evade the apple’s core that Meekhal threw at him instinctively and said, “You’re getting better at throwing projectile. Need to work on your aim though.”
“Khalid, what the fuck!” Peredur shouted, repeating the words they had heard Desmond utter quite a bit when something surprises him.
Although, Desmond usually says it with a deadpan tone.
“I was wondering why one of the recruit rooms was so noisy so I came in to check up on you,” Khalid said as he continued to grin at them.
“We locked the door!”
“Did you?” Khalid raised an eyebrow as he asked.
Both Peredur and Meekhal paused but Zain sighed as he said, “No, we didn’t. Peredur was so excited to show us his-”
“Aaaah!” Peredur covered Zain’s mouth as he said too loudly, “Now that I think about it, yes! I did forget to lock the door! Silly me!”
Khalid hummed as he stared at all three of them before chuckling, “Well, keep your secrets then, little fledglings.”
Khalid stood from the cot and placed a hand on his waist as he said, “You three better go to sleep before Oded does his round. You know he’d make you guys run all over the castle before morning training if he catches you still awake.”
“We’re waiting for Desmond.” Peredur said as he crossed his arms, looking away from Khalid as he tried to say nonchalantly, “You know, since this would be his first night in the recruits’ room.”
Khalid blinked at him before glancing at the other two recruits. Only Zain looked away and Khalid’s lips curved into a fond smile as he said, “Aaaww, aren’t you children just adorable.”
“I’m just a year younger than you,” Peredur grumbled.
“Are you sure of my real age, though?” Khalid asked as his smile turned into a grin. Khalid chuckled and shook his head as he said, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but Desmond isn’t transferring into any of the rooms here. He was already wearing his sleeping dress when I visited him to give the clean robes Hilde told me to give to him after I finished washing the blood off our robes.”
Khalid rubbed his arm as he dramatically said, “My arms hurt so badly they feel like they-”
“Why did Hilde give you robes?” Zain asked, eyes narrowing as he asked, “You didn’t ask help from the nymphs, did you?”
Khalid snorted before he dryly replied, “And risk Hilde asking me to do her a few ‘favors’ in exchange? I know how to pick the lesser of two evils.”
“If you really wish to know…” Khalid waved his hand nonchalantly as he explained casually, “It seems Desmond went to the thermae to apologize for stealing dirty robes. Probably one of the mentor’s weird ‘games’ again. Hilde told me that she told Desmond she’d send someone to give him a fresh set of robes which… apparently… they had been asked to prepare beforehand.”
“Wait, does that mean that Desmond didn’t have to steal any robes at all?” Zain asked with furrowed brows.
“Not sure. Hilde got the orders from the mentor’s eagle, Bennu, before lunch.” Khalid shrugged once more as he said, “You know how the mentor is. Likes playing mind games and all that. Maybe the robes Desmond stole were for a test or something.”
“Can we please focus?!” Peredur exclaimed, “Why are you sure that Desmond’s not staying with us?”
Khalid shook his head as he answered, “Well, Oded was waiting for me to give me my ‘punishment for unauthorized use and mishandling of an experimental tool’ and to tell you guys that you three have been assigned to escort Desmond while he’s getting used to his new schedule and to give him the other set of robes that Oded left in the first floor. Oded didn’t say anything about helping him get used to a room here in the tower and the word going around is that he’ll be staying in his room back in the mentor’s tower.”
“But…” Peredur frowned and looked down at his cot.
Khalid crouched and patted Peredur’s shoulder as he said, “I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you three wake him up tomorrow though. He doesn’t seem used to waking as early as we do.”
Peredur’s face slightly brightened and he nodded, “That’s true.”
Peredur rubbed the back of his neck as he said with a grin, “I guess it can’t be helped. Since we’re all recruits starting tomorrow, we’ll have to look after him.”
“Brothers got to stick together, right?” Khalid agreed with a nod, patting Peredur’s back once more before standing as he said, “Well, I’ll let you three go to sleep now. Don’t forget to turn your lamp off.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Peredur grumbled and all three began to set up their cots properly while Khalid started to leave the room.
Khalid bent down just as Meekhal asked, “What did you mean by what you said?”
“Hm?” Khalid stood once more and turned to the usually quiet young man of the three.
“Back when you surprised us. You said ‘both’.” Meekhal reminded him as he lay on his cot, covering his legs with his blanket.
“Ah.” Khalid crossed his arms once more as he said, “I’ve only seen Altaïr Ibn-Umar a few times while I was in Masyaf before but he does look a lot like him. A bit too much for it to be a coincidence.”
“Personally, I think Desmond’s Umar’s son from another woman. Probably had an affair after his wife died.” Khalid explained, “That woman though is probably the descendant of the Hidden Ones from Leicestershire. Although, I won’t be surprised if Desmond had only learned of his connection with the Ibn-La'Ahad men and he’d been raised by a stepfather who was also a descendant of the Hidden Ones. He did tell Rawiya and me about how his ‘father’ had certain expectations for him.”
“We didn’t hear any words about Desmond telling you and Rawiya about his father,” Peredur said with a glare as he sat on his cot.
Khalid placed a hand on his chest as he said in an overly dramatic tone, “It was a heartfelt conversation that showed just how close we have become. I cannot, in my good conscience, let it be used to fuel the amusement of everyone in the castle.”
All three stared at him with an expression that just showed they didn’t believe a word he just said and that they were mildly disgusted by his acting.
Khalid chuckled and shook his head as he said in a more casual tone after crossing his arms once more, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about what I just said. I only reported it to our mentor.”
He rubbed his chin as he added, “But I’m quite sure Rawiya told his father about it. He’s quite the… what’s the phrase Desmond’s used? Oh, yes… ‘Daddy’s boy’.”
Khalid’s musing halted when he heard Zain ask quietly, “Does the mentor share your thoughts?”
“No.” Khalid shook his head as he crossed his arms once more and answered, “He’s firmly on the side of ‘his parents are both Hidden Ones’.”
Khalid chuckled as he added, “He even said that perhaps Umar is the one who is the descendant of the Hidden Ones. That he may be related to one of Desmond’s parents.”
“Isn’t that… a stretch?” Peredur asked with a frown, making Zain try to glare at him because he was questioning the mentor but it looked more like a pout that Peredur just ignored.
“Umar was an orphan.” Khalid reminded them and waved his hand dismissively as he added, “And Rashid personally found him and took him in. What’s to say that Rashid didn’t know about Umar’s connection to the Hidden Ones?”
All three recruits grew quiet as they contemplated Khalid’s explanation. Seeing the (adorable) serious expressions on their faces, Khalid grinned as he added, “Hey, at least it’s a more believable explanation than Rawiya’s bet that he’s Rashid’s son.”
At that, Meekhal chuckled and Zain’s lips curved into a smile while Peredur snorted before dryly saying, “Rawiya was high on that medicine he takes for his broken arm back when he took that bet. He’s probably too embarrassed to even change it now.”
“Most definitely.” Khalid chuckled, “Some of the ingredients added in that medicine could cause hallucinations in large amounts. Who knows, maybe Rawiya accidentally drank too much.”
The three chuckled at the image that Khalid provided and Khalid waved one hand dismissively once more as he said, “Anyway, since we don’t have any actual confirmation yet, the bet is still on. Rawiya’s father is still keeping the pot, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Peredur grumbled as he waved his hand at Khalid.
Khalid stared at them as he said, “Good night, little fledglings.”
“Good night, old man.”
Zain blew the light on their lamp the moment Khalid left and the room was shrouded in darkness with only the soft glow of the moon being the source of light they had left.
Peredur closed his eyes and was almost about to sleep when Meekhal whispered, “Peredur.”
“Yes?”
“Khalid took your journal.”
A more uneasy silence enveloped the room until…
“I’m going to kill that asshole tomorrow.”
Alas, such promises had to be postponed as they had woken up earlier to wake up Desmond. Zain had personally (and quite territorially but Peredur and Meekhal weren’t going to say that out loud) taken the three sets of recruit robes that had been left on the first floor with them.
The day was only beginning but the castle was just as busy as it always was during this time, Assassins doing their guard duties, some pretending to be scholars while others wore the garbs of a guard.
They even saw Rawiya looking dead on his feet, clad in his own guard armor which probably meant he had gotten the night duty last night.
Peredur had always thought Rawiya was a bit… unapproachable. His family name made him a bit of a minor ‘celebrity’ in Alamut and there were rumors that, if anything was to happen to the current mentor, Rawiya’s family was his closest living relatives and could possibly take the mantle…
Peredur wasn’t entirely sure how different the ‘royal’ hierarchy was here in Alamut compared to Leicestershire where he had been born and raised.
The truth was Rawiya was a year older than Khalid and he was younger than any of the other recruits he had in his batch. Coupled with his family’s history and also the fact that he had been a street urchin who had been adopted by said family, Peredur didn’t actually think he could talk to someone like Rawiya and not even Zain who was born and raised by an old Assassin family like Rawiya’s family even had the courage to talk to him.
Then they heard how Rawiya’s first meeting with Desmond went and Peredur realized that “oh, he’s an idiot like us”.
Okay, not those exact words but the sentiment was the same.
“Good morning, father, uncle!”
Zain’s greeting brought Peredur back from his musing and both he and Meekhal greeted the mentor’s two guards before entering the tower.
The mentor’s tower was as quiet as always, which had always been a bit creepy to Peredur yet they pushed on with Zain taking the lead. Officially, it was because Zain knew the tower the most, unofficially Zain had stopped trying to tell Peredur that there were no ghosts in the tower and just went in front so he’d be the first to be taken by the ghost.
… Which didn’t exist…
They finally reached the second to the last floor and Zain knocked on the door three times before calling out, “Desmond? Are you awake?”
They had been expecting Desmond to still be asleep so they were mildly surprised when they heard Desmond reply, “Door’s open.”
Zain opened the door slowly and quietly and they all stared at Desmond.
Peredur had always thought Desmond looked… alright.
He looked like the kind of young man who would grow up to be quite handsome, sure, but his clothes always made him look a bit too… plain.
Now, clad in the robes of a recruit, he looked… Peredur wasn’t sure how to describe it.
It suited him.
The robes, the hood, the boots…
The leather gauntlets that he was adjusting as he sat on the chair next to the desk that the three of them had checked a month ago, which was now filled with so many books, parchments, plants, and trinkets.
It took a moment before Peredur realized that Desmond looked more relaxed than he had ever seen him.
And he wondered if Desmond felt some kind of familiarity with the robes he now wore.
Did he use to wear similar robes?
It was at this point that Peredur realized why he was joining their group of recruits instead of the younger groups.
They had always enjoyed hearing Desmond’s suggestions and, seeing him now in Assassin robes, even if they were simple recruit robes…
Keeping him as a recruit for too long would be a waste of his skills.
Peredur even wondered if they could even keep up.
“What’s up?” Desmond’s words brought Peredur out of his spiraling thoughts.
“We brought you your robes.” Zain answered with a bright smile on his face, walking inside the room and looking around, “Although… maybe you don’t need them?”
“Nah. I’d prefer it if I don’t have to do the laundry every other day. I got this set from Hilde last night after I went there to say sorry for stealing one. Well… Hilde sent Khalid to give these to me after I gave back the one I stole.” Desmond’s face was slightly hidden by the hood but they could still see the easy smile on his face as said, “Thanks, guys.”
“I’ll leave it here then.” Zain placed the neatly folded robes on top of the chest that had some kind of blanket poking out before turning to face Desmond as he asked, “If you’re ready, we can all go to the training ring for morning training.”
“Sure.” Desmond patted his knees as he stood and pushed the chair he had been using closer to the desk before they all left his room.
As they descended the stairs, Desmond asked, “So, morning training only last for three bells right?”
“Yes, morning training is quite light.” Zain excitedly explained, “After morning training, we’ll have time to eat breakfast then we’ll have an hour of studying. We’ll have afternoon training after that then lunch and…”
“Breathe, Zain,” Desmond said with an amused smile.
“Depending on the schedule Oded gives up, we either study some more or we do chores after lunch.” Peredur took over as he patted Zain’s back, “The current oldest batch of recruits, that’s us, usually do chores while the other batches usually study most of the time. Oh! The other batches also have other instructors when Oded is with us but Oded is all the recruits’ primary instructor.”
“You’d have to ask Oded your schedule after lunch though.” Zain took over, “I mean, considering you’re not that familiar with Alamut, he might schedule studies with a scholar after lunch instead.”
“I did that last year to teach me the language and writings used in these lands.” Peredur commented, “I hope you get a good instructor though. Some of the scholars can get a bit… too much.”
Peredur couldn’t see the expression Desmond made but his tone was light as he said, “I’m pretty sure I have an idea who my afternoon instructors would be.”
They finally left the tower and began to make their way to the shadow tower, going inside the palace, evading the scholars rushing all around them as Desmond asked, “These guys haven’t slept, have they?”
“They’re probably on the ‘verge’ of something ‘new’.” Peredur dryly commented, “A lot of the scholars here think sleep is for the weak and think fainting is the real ‘sleep’.”
Desmond chuckled and Peredur couldn’t help but be impressed by how easily Desmond was able to evade the scholars. None of them even managed to bump into Desmond while Peredur had been elbowed twice already.
After the daily scholar evading tradition every Assassin has to go through, they finally reached the training ring in front of the shadow’s tower.
As expected, Oded was already waiting for them, looking over what seemed some kind of paper in his hand. He didn’t look away from the paper as he said, “Desmond, a word.”
They all looked at Desmond who simply patted Zain’s back before walking towards Oded.
Before Peredur could even attempt to read their lips, they heard a familiar voice say, “Oh, you three are early.”
They turned around and saw the other trio that was part of their group of recruits.
“Rahim.” Peredur nodded at the young man that was a year younger than him before nodding at the other two that were a few years older than him, around Meekhal’s age, “Amir. Hamaal.”
“Good morning.” Zain greeted politely.
“So… Desmond’s finally joining us, huh,” Hamaal said as he rested his elbows on the railings of the training ring and all six of them watched Desmond and Oded.
“Think he’ll join either of our groups?” Rahim asked curiously.
“If he’s joining any of us, it’s obviously going to be our group,” Peredur stated confidently.
Rahim snorted as he commented, “Well, you three do need all the help you can get.”
Peredur glared at him while Amir said quietly as frowned at Rahim, “Don’t.”
“What? I’m just telling the truth.” Rahim grinned as he said, “We all know what our group’s final ranking will be.”
“Yeah and I’ll make sure to kick you to the bottom of it,” Peredur stated as he took a step towards Rahim, only stopping when he felt Zain place a hand on his chest.
“Peredur,” Zain called out quietly as he tried to push Peredur away from Rahim.
“If you want a spar, all you have to do is beg, invader.”
“If anyone is going to beg, it’ll be you on your knees after I’m-”
“Enough.”
All of them immediately rushed to their place, all lined up in a line with their hands on their back and their back straight as Oded and Desmond walked towards them.
Desmond stayed a few feet behind Oded and Peredur could see Rahim twitch when his eyes met his.
Before anyone could say anything, Oded informed them, “We will begin the morning training with our usual. After that, we will have a mock battle.”
“All of you… against Desmond.”
Notes:
This chapter is for everyone who had been wanting an outside POV of how people see Desmond. I hope this was okay.
Next chapter, we’ll be back with Desmond’s POV. :)
Chapter 21
Notes:
Alright, people. So my moving last week was postponed and I have not been given a new date. I have unpacked my stuff because of this and, because of the whole 'tba', I can't give you guys a head's up when the moving will go and if the weekly Monday Updates will be affected. I should note that the next update (as far as I am certain) will be on June 18 (that's right, a Sunday) because I have 3 smuts (that's right, THREE) prepared to be posted then so... uuuhhh... stay tune for that I guess? XD
Chapter Text
“This is a summary of your current skills from the mentor,” Oded stated as he lightly flapped the paper in his hand. He didn’t show it to Desmond and Desmond didn’t bother to ask him to show it to him and only listened as Oded continued, “And he has listed where we should focus on your training.”
‘He’.
Desmond wasn’t surprised that Oded didn’t know the real identities of the mentors but it still made him feel a bit uneasy becoming an unwilling accomplice in the deepest secret of the Brotherhood here in Alamut.
“I will take this list under advisement,” Oded said as he folded the paper three times before placing it in one of the satchels on his belt.
Desmond tilted his head but didn’t say anything.
“I was in the same group as ‘A'lā’ Muhammad during our training days. The physical aspect of being an Assassin had never been his forte.”
Oh.
Desmond stopped his lips from curving into an amused smile.
It was kinda funny that Oded was going to take the supposed mentor’s orders ‘under advisement’ because he thought it was ordered by Diya al-Dīn.
Seeing the shadow of the eagle circle the training ring above them, Desmond couldn’t help but wonder if Bennu was monitoring them.
He wasn’t sure how Bennu was able to report back to the mentors but Desmond hoped that Oded’s action wouldn’t make Raiza and the other mentors believe their authority was being undermined.
… Even though Oded didn’t even know who had truly made that list.
He liked Oded. It was clear that Oded took the training of the recruits seriously so Desmond couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed that Oded was unintentionally undermining the mentors because he believed that he knew better.
Sometimes, those on the field did know better than those higher up the hierarchy after all.
“And I am sure he knows me well enough to know that I will see with my own eyes how you fair before I agree to implement anything from that piece of paper.” Oded stated and nodded at him before beginning to walk toward the other recruits. Guessing that nod was meant to tell him to follow, Desmond walked behind him.
His eyes narrowed briefly when he heard Rahim spit out, “If you want a spar, all you have to do is beg, invader.”
He already felt a headache starting to hit him. Rahim and Peredur were always butting heads and, at first, Desmond assumed it had something to do with Rahim’s obviously glaring inferiority complex for his future brother-in-law Amir but…
Well…
Desmond had only heard the rumors but Rahim seemed to have grown up in Acre. When the Third Crusades began, he either lost one or both his parents and they fled to Alamut…
Adding the fact that Peredur came from Crusader lands and was commonly believed to rank higher than Rahim overall and Desmond… well… he sorta understood Rahim’s situation.
The feeling of never being enough, of being a disappointment in his own eyes…
That shit would stick and rot until his dying breath…
… And Desmond wasn’t even sure which ‘he’ he was talking about anymore.
“If anyone is going to beg, it’ll be you on your knees after I’m-”
“Enough.”
Desmond’s lips twitched when all six recruits immediately lined up with their backs straight just as Oded and Desmond reached them.
Oded stood in front of them while Desmond stayed a few feet behind him, a little to his right. He glanced at all of them and he could feel Rahim twitch when their eyes met.
Desmond knew he kept his expression blank so he was assuming Rahim believed that Desmond was annoyed at him because he had heard him pick a fight with Peredur.
It was clear to everyone that Desmond was close to Zain and his friends. In Desmond’s defense, Amir was the oldest of them and he had his hands full keeping his future brother-in-law in check, Rahim had the habit of kicking his own foot into his mouth, and Hamaal…
Hamaal was pretty chill but he stuck by his group so he didn’t talk to Desmond all that much.
So yeah, Desmond was definitely much closer to Zain and his friends.
“We will begin the morning training with our usual.” Oded stated, “After that, we will have a mock battle.”
“All of you…” Oded paused and Desmond wondered if he did it for dramatic effect, “Against Desmond.”
Desmond wasn’t going to sigh.
But he sure as hell wanted to.
So…
The usual was apparently the same warm-up and stretches Desmond remembered Altaïr did every morning before he started his day. He couldn’t help but wonder if Altaïr’s usual warm-up and stretches were something he had continued to do from his training days.
He probably did.
After the warm-up and stretches, they were instructed to run around the castle three times and Amir took point, leading all of them around the castle. It was less of a run and more of a jog actually, which Desmond appreciated. Desmond had seen them jogging a few times when he had morning deliveries and it was as Desmond expected.
Amir took point with Peredur a little to his right and Zain to his left. Meekhal and Rahim always jogged in the middle and Desmond just fell into the rhythm and jogged in the middle of them. Behind them was Hamaal and Desmond was quite certain he was there to make sure no one lagged behind.
While he was more familiar with the capabilities of Zain and his group, he had seen Hamaal freerun all over Alamut castle so many times that Desmond knew he could have easily jogged next to Amir.
“You can go faster, you know.”
Speak of the devil…
Desmond didn’t turn to face him as they passed the back of the thermae as he said, “Don’t wanna break formation.”
“Amir wouldn’t mind if you take point,” Hamaal said and Desmond was impressed by how clear and smooth his voice was. He couldn’t even hear him panting at all.
To be fair, they were going at quite an easy pace as far as Desmond was concerned.
“I’ll pass,” Desmond said, making Hamaal hum.
“Your call.” Hamaal said before adding casually, “I think you should take point though. It’s clear you’re going to take the top spot anyway. Might as well act like it.”
Desmond wanted to sigh.
He had hoped Alamut didn’t have the same ranking system as the recruits in Masyaf did. Every training ‘batch’ would be ranked at the end of their training. The ranking itself was kept hidden until the very end and it made the recruits either be very competitive or just make them feel defeated even before the end because the ranking itself was usually rumored all over the batches anyway, regardless if it was truly accurate or not.
It was also that ranking system that pushed Altaïr to have the moniker of the Eagle of Masyaf because he managed to take the top spot even after he and Abbas had been punished for fighting back when Abbas tried to kill him for telling the truth.
It probably also didn’t help that the ranking system placed Abbas so low that Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if that just helped push Abbas’ jealousy and anger even further.
He supposed the ranking system was created to mimic the ranks in the Brotherhood and… maybe there was also the whole ‘this guy’s the top of your batch so if you have any problems, ask for his help’ mentality that could have been a reason for putting a ranking system in place?
Desmond still wished it didn’t freaking exist though.
“Not interested,” Desmond muttered instead of trying to explain all of that to Hamaal.
Hell, he couldn’t understand why Hamaal was talking to him now after they had pretty much ignored one another since Desmond had been in Alamut.
“I’m just sayi-”
“He said no. Shut up, Hamaal.” Rahim growled from Desmond’s left.
The sigh that escaped Hamaal’s lips was a long-suffering one but he slowed his jog a bit so he wasn’t as close to Desmond anymore.
Desmond nodded at Rahim as he said, “Thanks.”
Rahim glanced at him before saying, “Hamaal’s not going to stop annoying you unless you tell him to go away.”
Desmond blinked, unsure if Rahim was actually trying to give him a piece of advice and he couldn’t even make sure anymore as they have returned to the training ring.
Where the ring itself was now littered with training weapons: swords and short blades with blunt blades, all over. Some were stuck into the fine sandy ground while others were just lying there.
And…
Was that a rope?
Oh boy.
They all lined up in front of the training ring and Desmond ignored the many eyes that he could feel all around him. It was clear that many of the Assassins nearby were there to watch and he could even sense many of them above him, on the walls and inside the tower itself.
Oded stood in front of them and stated, “Since this would be Desmond’s first mock battle, we will have two warm-up rounds first before…”
Oded didn’t hide his disappointment as he turned to look around him, “… this supposed ‘main event’.”
Desmond heard a few soft chuckles coming all around them, most likely coming from the Assassins who have taken the time to watch them.
“For the warm-up rounds, Desmond will only fight one person.” Oded continued to explain before turning his attention to Desmond as he stated, “Use these warm-up rounds to familiarize yourself with the rules of the mock battles.”
Desmond nodded although he had an idea that the rules were the same as the ones Masyaf used.
“For this mock battle, you will hit your opponent using any weapon lying in the training ring wins. Strike to hit, not hurt.”
At those words, he glared at both Rahim and Peredur who glanced at each other.
And Desmond didn’t bother to hide the mirthless smile that appeared on his face as he remembered how he had to bandage Rahim’s arm and Peredur’s leg because the both of them hit each other with their blunt weapon so hard that they actually got a cut while Oded reported to, now that Desmond knew better, the person he thought was the mentor.
“Where you hit your opponent will count toward your score.” Oded continued, “From the head to the neck will give five points. Shoulder, arms, and hands will be three points. Legs to feet will be two points. The torso will be one point.”
“Whoever gets five points first will win.”
Yup.
Definitely the same as the rules of mock battles in Masyaf.
Desmond knew that, sooner or later, he would have to use a one-handed sword once more. That, one day, the Assassins here in Alamut would see his sword fighting style, and his bleed of Altaïr would shine the brightest among his other bleeds. That the Assassins would recognize it and, honestly, Desmond had hoped he would be ‘trained’ in the basics of sword fighting first so he could use it as an excuse and say that he had just been training in his bigass room to catch up or something.
Unfortunately, it seemed that luck was not on his side this time as the weapons scattered all over the ring were mostly swords.
There were also a few throwing knives and short daggers.
But they were mostly swords.
Lots of swords.
Desmond wondered if Alamut used to have more recruits that needed all these blunt swords, that the rumor of its ‘fall’ had lowered their recruitment numbers.
He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. He was sure a lot of their Assassins were actually away from Alamut, in the other nearby cities and kingdoms. Maybe even in al-Sham…
And he was also pretty sure most of the Assassins stationed here in Alamut who didn’t have guard duties or patrol duties were now watching their little mock battle.
Desmond’s first opponent had been Rahim and, dear lord, that didn’t help his inferiority complex at all. Desmond wasn’t sure how Oded planned the warm-up matches but Rahim probably assumed he was going to serve as Desmond’s warm-up opponent because he was at the bottom of the ranking.
Like he was meant to be a warm-up for Desmond.
Desmond was sure that wasn’t the case though.
But he didn’t say anything, knowing Rahim would believe he was pitying him.
So he remained quiet as the both of them entered the ring, going to the opposite sides of the ring before facing one another. They waited until Oded shouted, “Begin!”
Rahim went immediately for the nearest sword and bent down while grabbing it, never stopping nor slowing down his charge, before rushing Desmond.
Desmond ran towards him as well before sliding just as Rahim tried to strike him on the head. Desmond grabbed 2 throwing knives as he slid further away from Rahim before quickly getting up and grabbing the rope in front of him.
Rahim was already on his tail and he sidestepped to evade his downward strike. Desmond jumped back as he quickly wrapped the rope on the handle of a throwing knife, making sure it was tight and wouldn’t fall apart so easily before throwing it as he let Ratonhnhaké:ton’s bleed take over. The improvised rope dart wrapped around Rahim’s leg and the blade was blunt enough that it only slam against Rahim’s leg but didn’t pierce it just as Desmond predicted.
“1 point to Desmond!” Oded shouted just as Desmond tugged on the rope hard, making Rahim yelp as he lost his balance and slipped onto the ground, the sand padding his fall.
Desmond pulled the rope once more to unwrap it around Rahim’s leg before jumping him, his other throwing knife in his left hand in a reverse grip. Desmond made sure to not hit Rahim as he fell on top of him, pressing his throwing knife against his neck.
“6 points to Desmond!”
Rahim’s eyes were wide open as he tried to grab Desmond’s arm, breathing heavily as he felt the blunt blade of the throwing knife against his throat.
“Desmond wins this match!”
Desmond waited until Rahim let go of his arm before stepping away from him. Rahim let out a loud frustrated growl and Desmond offered his hand to him. Rahim stared at his hand for a second before he grabbed it, letting Desmond help him up.
“Thank you.” Rahim said quietly, looking at the ground as he mumbled, “Congratulations on your win.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “Thanks.”
“Desmond.” They both turned to face Oded who kept his arms crossed while the two of them stood straight with their hands behind them. Oded kept his eyes on Rahim as he asked, “Any thoughts on what Rahim could have done in that last battle?”
Desmond blinked at the question before replying, “A quick decisive strike is always what we should aim for but he should have realized that I’m quicker than him. Against a quicker opponent, striking the largest mass would be better.”
Oded stared at Desmond for a moment before turning to face Rahim as he said, “Desmond is kinder than me so I shall say what he did not say. You let your emotions get the best of you. Rage can be quite good in battle but you must know when to use it and you must never be consumed by it. Your emotions made you think you have to win fast and you fail to see that you have a higher chance of getting a point if you hit the torso instead of focusing on the head. Control your emotions, Rahim. Only then will you be able to properly see your surroundings even in the harshest of moments.”
Rahim’s lips formed into a grim line but all he did was nod as he said, “Yes, sir.”
“We will prepare for the next battle! Both of you, leave your weapons and join the others.”
“Yes, sir.” Both of them said and placed their chosen weapons on the ground before joining the other recruits.
“That was awesome!” Zain shouted just as Desmond reached his group while Rahim stood near Amir and Hamaal. Desmond couldn’t help the fond smile that appeared on his face as Zain enthusiastically said, “You were so cool, Desmond! The way you moved and that improvised weapon you made on the fly and, and, and-”
“Breathe, Zain.” Desmond patted Zain’s head as he said, “Thanks.”
“Well, well, wel-”
Zain elbowed Peredur, who was staring at Rahim, on the waist without looking away from Desmond and ignored his pained grunt as Zain said, “That improvised weapon you made… is it meant to pull your targets?”
It seemed that Zain was able to take Peredur’s attention away from trash-talking Rahim as Peredur turned around, looking quite excited to hear Desmond’s answer while Meekhal looked apologetically at Amir, nodding at him silently, before turning to face Desmond too as he asked, “I think it’s meant to dig into your target’s flesh, right? The blade part, I mean.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Desmond turned to look back at the training ring, noticing that even Rahim’s group was interested in what he was about to say, “It’s called a rope dart and you wrap it around the target’s neck usually…”
Desmond froze when he noticed what the two Assassins in the training ring were doing.
They were taking weapons out.
Specifically…
They were taking out the throwing knives and any other ropes lying around.
Oh.
Fuck.
The next match pitted him against Meekhal who Desmond had been familiar with, having already seen him training with Zain.
At the start of the battle, both Meekhal and Desmond just walked to pick up a weapon with Meekhal taking a sword while Desmond took a short blade instead as Desmond said, “So… think you can just yield this one, Meekhal?”
“I don’t mind if you want me to. This is just meant to be a warm-up anyway.” Meekhal replied with a grin before adding as Oded looked at him with an unimpressed expression on his face, “But we both know I can’t do that.”
“Eh, it was worth a shot anyway.” Desmond shrugged before he readied himself, making sure to use Ezio’s form when he uses a short blade instead of Altaïr.
Just as he expected, Meekhal hit fast and hard, aiming straight for Desmond’s torso with a move that reminded Desmond more of a bat swing than an actual sword strike. Knowing Meekhal’s brute force and the additional momentum of his swing would simply be too much for him to parry, Desmond jumped out of the way, only to push himself towards Meekhal the moment his legs hit the ground. Meekhal tried to take him with another swing but there was less momentum this time as Desmond didn’t give him any chance and Desmond tilted his upper body slightly to evade it, hitting Meekhal’s sword. With his hit and the momentum of his swing, Meekhal staggered and Desmond resisted the urge to continue with Ezio’s usual move and take a swipe at Meekhal’s shoulder. Instead, he used his own momentum to topple Meekhal off his feet, letting himself fall on top.
Knowing Meekhal could take his weight, Desmond pressed his knee against Meekhal’s lower back as they fell on the ground with Desmond on top of him. As Meekhal spatted the sand he accidentally ate, Desmond patted the top of his head with the flat part of his dagger lightly.
A second later, Oded shouted, “5 points to Desmond! Desmond wins this round!”
Desmond rolled off of Meekhal and helped him up, patting his back as Meekhal continued to spit out a bit more sand, as he said, “You really need to learn how to control that strength of yours. If you don’t, our enemy will control it for you.”
“I know…” Meekhal sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. They both stood straight and placed their hands behind them as they stared at Oded.
Oded looked at the both of them before nodding, “Desmond pinpointed your current main weakness, Meekhal. Knowing it is only the start, now you have to take the necessary steps to fix it. Leave your weapons and join the others.”
Desmond was dreading doing just that.
Because he was pretty sure…
This would mean he would be left with no choice but to use swords in the next match.
The moment Desmond and Meekhal returned to the others outside the ring, two different Assassins began to take out the short blades as Oded announced, “We will begin the real mock battle when the bell tolls. For this mock battle, Desmond will need to get five points for each of you to be counted out of the battle but…”
“All you have to do is get one point from Desmond to take him out.”
Oh.
Well…
Desmond supposed that was a good handicap.
Chapter 22
Notes:
I would just like to apologize for the cliffhanger last chapter and, as an apology, here. Have an early 5000+ words update!
Also, also, as part of the “Happy Father’s Day” special, may I offer you guys three different smuts:
Desmond x Bad Dad (like the worst dad in AC, no seriously, only read at your own risk)
Desmond x Good Dad
Desmond getting more than he bargained for (AltDes, EziDes and ConDes)
Now, comes the bad-ish news. I am totally unsure but my move might push this week. Not sure of the date but I might get busy this week or next week. Because of that, there’s a possibility this won’t be updated for next-ish week. I will say that I plan to post something for Ezio’s birthday on June 24 so stay tuned for that.
Chapter Text
“Oh, did we make it?”
Desmond turned to look back, only freezing a fraction of a second when Khalid patted his back before relaxing once more. Desmond nodded at Rawiya who walked to stand on Desmond’s other side before they all looked at the other end of the training ring where the other recruits were all huddled together, most probably trying to form some kind of strategy against Desmond.
Or trying not to punch one another in Peredur and Rahim’s case…
As a fellow recruit, Desmond knew he would have to do something about those two sooner or later. Rivalry was all well and good but only if it was friendly.
“You guys here to watch me get my ass kick?” Desmond asked as he kept his hands crossed.
Khalid laughed and bent forward, resting his arms on the wooden railings of the training ring as he said, “Come on, we’re here to cheer you all on.”
“Egg you on might be more accurate,” Rawiya mumbled before yawning.
Desmond turned to look at him as he asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah, just ended a night shift.” Rawiya replied as he rubbed the side of his neck, “I don’t know how Khalid got inside my room but I didn’t appreciate his way of waking people up. There is nothing creepier than feeling someone is watching you and waking up with him in my bed staring at me.”
Desmond was just going to ignore Khalid's wake-up strategy and turned to look at Khalid. As soon as he saw Khalid’s conspiratory grin, he knew that his lockpicking lessons were the reason why Rawiya’s sleep had been disturbed.
“Hey, if I didn’t wake you, you’d be complaining that you missed this, right?” Khalid retorted casually, making Rawiya sigh once more because he knew that Khalid was right about that.
But he wasn’t going to admit that.
“So… any tips on how to take them down?” Desmond asked curiously, knowing that Rawiya had sparred with the recruits a bit as part of the fact that he was the newest novice at the moment while Khalid had the pleasure of being the recruits’ ‘practice dummy’ more than once as punishment for skipping his usual duties for his experiments.
“I don’t know if we should give you tips.” Rawiya rubbed the back of his neck this time as he said, “We all know the kids will have a hard time as it is already. Giving you more information would be a bad idea.”
“Also, there’s a bet going on and we’d be taken out of the pool if we help,” Khalid admitted casually, making Desmond sigh.
“Of course there is. So, what’s the bet this time?” Desmond asked dryly, having already heard the numerous bets going on in Alamut. They didn’t usually bet money since they barely made any. Mostly they bet with ‘favors’, like the winner would get one or two favors from anyone who had taken the bet which they could cash in anytime… within reasons, of course. Desmond looked at the training ring where two Assassins were placing a few more blunt swords as he guessed, “How long I’ll last?”
“Who’ll last the longest against you, actually.” Khalid answered before grinning as he asked, “Wanna know who got the most bet?”
Probably Amir, considering he was rumored to be the top of their batch.
Or maybe even Hamaal with how fast he usually moved.
Before Desmond could answer, the bell tolled and all the recruits walked inside the ring. Desmond vaulted over the railing to enter the ring as he said, “Okay, hit me.”
“It’s Zain,” Khalid whispered before he patted the railing twice. He pushed himself up and took a few steps back as he cheered, “Good luck, fledglings!”
“Khalid, you dick! Where’s my jou-”
“We will now begin the mock battle!” Oded announced over Peredur’s shouting, “For Desmond, one hit and he loses. For everyone else, five points and you must drop to the ground and not move for the remainder of the battle!”
Oded looked around the training ring for a moment before shouting, “Begin!”
Desmond calmly walked towards them as they quickly grabbed the nearest sword they could get their hands on. Seeing Desmond still unarmed, they all looked at one another before Peredur asked, “Hey, uuuhh, Desmond, what’re you doing?”
Before Desmond could say anything, Oded stated calmly, “Any strikes done while unarmed do not count.”
“Yeah, figured that would be the case.” Desmond grinned at Oded before turning his grin at the recruits, “Well? Come on.”
They all looked at each other once more before Rahim asked, “This is a trick, right? He has to have a trick up his sleeve.”
“No shit!” Peredur answered back, making Rahim glare at him.
“Hey, hey, hey! Truce, remember? Truce!” Amir shouted at them like they were unruly children and he was a tired housedad.
Aaawww, they had a truce in place just to beat him?
That’s adorable.
“I’ll bite.” Hamaal said with an easy grin, “Amir, back me up.”
“Back you-? Wait- Hamaal!”
Hamaal paid no heed to Amir’s shout as he charged Desmond with a speed that momentarily surprised Desmond.
He knew Hamaal was fast but he didn’t expect him to be this fast.
In the blink of an eye, Hamaal was already at arm’s length.
Desmond bent his knee and stepped to the side, evading Hamaal’s downward slash. He circled Hamaal until he was right behind him and grabbed his sword hand with his right hand and his right shoulder with his left hand.
Desmond kicked the back of Hamaal’s foot, unbalancing him. The sudden shift of his body weakened his grip on his sword and Desmond grabbed his sword from his weakened grip, deftly taking a step back with his new weapon.
Hamaal quickly jumped back and went on one knee. Desmond raised an eyebrow when Rahim and Amir immediately stepped to cover him.
Desmond twirled the sword in his hand as he walked to their right, noticing that Rahim’s stance was the same as Meekhal and Peredur, sword in front of them with their right foot forward.
A very similar fighting stance to the one Altaïr learned.
But Amir…
Amir had his sword resting on his shoulders.
Huh.
Interesting.
Desmond pointed his stolen weapon at Rahim as he asked, “That’s the usual stance, right? I know Meekhal and Peredur use that same stance.”
Desmond copied Rahim’s stance although he bent his knees less and bent his left elbow a little higher than they do, making his stance more of a fusion of the different stances Altaïr and Ezio used.
Hopefully, by pretending to be copying Rahim, he would have an excuse for any slip-ups he might have that would make his moves more akin to the Brotherhood in Masyaf.
And he was hoping Ezio’s moves would be able to help keep them guessing.
Hamaal seemed to have taken another sword and he patted Amir’s shoulder then Rahim’s. The two parted so Hamaal would see him but he didn’t push forward, instead staring at Desmond as he grinned, “That… was good.”
“Thanks,” Desmond replied, enjoying Hamaal’s relaxed personality. Desmond turned to look at Zain, Peredur, and Meekhal as he asked, “You guys going to have a go at me or you’re gonna let the others go first?”
“Honestly, I know we should just gang up on you…” Peredur answered before turning to look at Zain as he asked, “But… right?”
“We risk the chance of hitting each other if we all attack at the same time,” Zain explained what Peredur was trying to say, making Peredur nod in agreement. Zain turned to look at Amir as he said, “Let’s proceed with Plan A.”
“Agreed.” Amir nodded and Desmond tilted his head.
“Plan A?”
“Meekhal…” Zain nodded at the quietest of them.
Meekhal nodded and gripped his sword like a bat once more, raising it over his shoulder as he…
“AAAAAHHHHHH!”
Desmond involuntarily took a step back at the loud battle cry the usually quiet Meekhal let out as he charged Desmond. Desmond dodged the horizontal slash aimed at his torso, knowing that he’d only hurt himself if he tried to parry that strike and his lips curved into a grin when Peredur seemingly appeared behind Meekhal, using his friend’s larger body to hide his approach. Desmond parried Peredur’s sword as it tried to pierce his torso. Before he could try to hit Peredur, Meekhal went on his knees and Zain jumped over him, delivering a downward strike that almost got Desmond.
Unfortunately for them, Desmond’s body was used to going against multiple opponents in open combat and he kicked Peredur on the shoulder to push himself back and get more distance between him and everyone else while dodging Zain’s downward strike.
“Peredur has taken three points! Two more points left!” Oded announced, making Peredur turn to face Oded.
“Wha-! I didn’t get hit by his sword!” Peredur turned to complain to Oded while Rahim charged Desmond with a horizontal strike from Desmond’s left, forcing Desmond to step back towards Zain and the others. Rahim bent down and Hamaal vaulted over him, rolling on top of his back to use the momentum of his roll to strike Desmond with a faster and more powerful downward strike that Desmond couldn’t parry.
“Strikes taken while he’s unarmed are not counted. As he has a sword in his hand, all strikes will now be counted.” Oded stated, shaking his head as he added, “You must learn to listen carefully, Peredur.”
“I was! The instruc-”
“Out of the way, intruder!” Rahim shouted as he pushed Peredur out of the way with his shoulder, blocking Desmond’s own downward strike with one hand pressed against the flat surface of his blade to be able to keep his form and take Desmond’s strike without staggering.
Desmond blinked and took a step back, flicking his wrist to parry Rahim’s quick and unbalanced hit aimed at his torso casually as he asked, “Did you… did you just protect Peredur?”
At that question, Rahim and Peredur froze and Desmond used it to his advantage, kicking Rahim in the stomach to push him back and gain more distance between him and the rest.
“Rahim has taken one point! Four points remaining!” Oded announced.
“I didn’t protect that invader!” Rahim shouted as he pointed accusingly at Peredur with his unarmed hand.
Peredur glared at him as he shouted back, “Good! I’d rather get hit than be saved by you, asshole!”
Desmond looked unimpressed and he could see the other recruits just sigh, Amir even going as far as to cover his eyes with his free hand.
“Well, I was aiming for Peredur then you swooped in and took my hit.” Desmond reminded him before turning to Peredur to say, “Sorry, man. Need to take one of you out.”
“You do what you have to do, Desmond.” Peredur immediately said with a solemn nod, giving him a thumbs up.
“He’s supposed to be our enemy, you idiot!” Rahim shouted at him.
“Only an idiot would call someone an idiot!” Peredur shouted back.
“That’s now how that works!”
“Yeah, says who?!”
“Alright, alright, alright.” Desmond tried to catch their attention by tapping the flat surface of his sword against his arm, forgetting that he didn’t have the metallic gauntlet of the hidden blade and only had plain leather so it didn’t really make any sounds. Still, his voice was enough to make both Rahim and Peredur stop and turn to face him as he said, “Rahim, if you didn’t take the blow to protect Peredur then that means you charged in front of my strike like a fool.”
Desmond raised an eyebrow as he asked, “So… which is it?”
Rahim looked around for a moment before turning to look at Peredur who narrowed his eyes at him. From behind him, Zain kicked the back of his leg, making Peredur yelp and frown at his friend. Rahim turned to stare at Desmond as he announced proudly, “I’m a fool, sir!”
Desmond stared at him with the same unimpressed expression while a lot of the Assassins laughed which wasn’t helpful at all. He sighed and rubbed his forehead as he asked, “So you’re an idiot who charged me even though you knew I could have hit you?”
“Yes! I’m an idiot!” Rahim proclaimed proudly.
Hamaal finally lost it, clutching his stomach as he laughed loudly and had to grab Amir’s arm to keep his balance.
Meekhal smiled as he said, “I knew you two would become friends sooner or later.”
“We’re not friends!” Peredur and Rahim shouted as they glared at Meekhal.
“Oh, man. You’re…” Desmond shook his head as he sighed, unsure how to even proceed with Rahim’s stubbornness. It was nice to know that if push comes to shove, he’d still defend Peredur but his refusal to admit that he doesn’t necessarily hate Peredur was still an issue.
“Desmond.”
They all turned to look at Oded who looked just so dead tired of the recruits as Desmond felt right now. His tone was dry as he announced, “If you do not get a point by the time I count to ten, you will automatically lose.”
“Wha- Hey, you can’t just change the rul-”
“1.”
“Oh come on!” Desmond groaned.
“2.”
Desmond knew that this was because they had stopped sparring and as a way to stop Desmond from using such delay tactics…
Which he might have been doing on purpose…
Maybe.
“3.”
It was now Desmond’s turn to take the offensive while Amir shouted, “Everybody, stay back! If we don’t get hit, we’ll win!”
As much as Desmond was annoyed by it, that was a good call.
Everyone immediately backed away but that was fine, Desmond had already reached Rahim who was the closest to him.
“4.”
Desmond deftly pushed away Rahim’s hastily formed guard and was about to sweep his legs for another point when Peredur grabbed Rahim by the hood and pulled him back, inadvertently making Rahim fall and dodging Desmond’s kick.
“5.”
Desmond didn’t let that deter him, turning around to deliver a horizontal slash to Peredur’s torso instead. It was enough time for Amir to get to their position, blocking Desmond’s strike as he stood to the left of Rahim and Peredur. Peredur and Zain pulled Rahim out of the way while Amir pushed Desmond’s sword out of the way. Desmond took a few steps back and evaded another of Meekhal’s large swings, making Amir dodge out of the way as well.
“6.”
“Get back, Amir! Meekhal!” Zain shouted as Rahim scrambled to get back up, “We need to form a defensive formation! Plan B!”
“7.”
Knowing it would become harder for him to strike a point if they manage to form some kind of defensive formation, Desmond knelt and grabbed a fistful of sand, throwing it at Amir’s face. Amir let out a yell of surprise and closed his eyes. He involuntarily took a few steps back and Desmond quickly moved to strike him by the neck, only for his eyes to go wild when Meekhal rushed from the side.
“8.”
Desmond’s body moved before he could think of what he was about to do, quickly changing his form to dodge Meekhal’s body slam and step behind him, grabbing his sword along the way before pushing him in Amir’s direction. Meekhal yelped as he fell on Amir who managed to keep him steady as he took a few steps back.
“Meekhal has taken one point. Four points left.”
Desmond didn’t even have the time to relax because Hamaal and Zain reached him, striking him from either side and forcing him to block their strikes with the two swords he now had.
Zain backed away and helped Meekhal and Amir up but Hamaal pushed through and tried to strike him with a piercing thrust aimed at his torso. Desmond captured his sword with his twin swords, keeping it between his swords, as he pulled the sword towards him while he took a step to his right. Hamaal didn’t let go of his sword but it was already slipping from his grasp and all his stubbornness did get him pulled forward. Desmond quickly stepped to his right side as he let go of his sword, Hamaal’s body leaning forward while Desmond managed to step behind him, delivering a low kick that finally toppled him to the ground.
Quickly and with a ferocity that felt quite foreign to him, Desmond struck Hamaal while he was still down with both of his swords, the long swords hitting him on the torso and legs.
Meekhal’s large stature made his footsteps loud enough that Desmond knew he was already coming so he quickly got up and turned to face him. He stepped back, evading Meekhal’s strike as he raised his right arm up to his neck just as Oded announced, “Hamaal takes 8 points! Stay on the ground, Hamaal!”
Hamaal just groaned while Desmond swung his right arm outward. It wasn’t enough to hit Meekhal but his attention was now focused on Desmond's right hand and Desmond was able to surprise him by taking a step forward and grabbing him by the back with his right hand awkwardly lifted by Desmond’s hold on him. Desmond pulled him close and, he was absolutely not sure what came over him, but he almost punched Meekhal in the face and Desmond knew Meekhal noticed it with the way his eyes turned wide. It took all of Desmond’s willpower to simply knock Meekhal’s forehead before pushing him to the ground. He turned to look at Oded who nodded, “Meekhal has taken 6 points! Stay on the ground, Meekhal!”
Desmond jumped back.
Holy shit.
He was… he was using someone’s fighting style…
And he didn’t know who it was.
Fuck.
Was he…
Was he Bleeding someone he didn’t relive in the Animus?
Was that even possible?
He had to focus.
He couldn’t get distracted right now.
For now, he would use this fighting style but he needed to make sure he held back.
This style…
It wasn’t like the other styles he knew that relied on quick deadly strikes.
This one…
It relied on pain and ferocity.
This… wasn’t the style of an Assassin at all.
“That’s sooo cool!”
Desmond blinked and turned to stare at Peredur who was looking at him with awe clearly etched on his face.
He quickly grabbed another sword and copied Desmond’s relaxed stance as he asked, “Like this?”
“Uuuhh…” Desmond blinked before saying in a confused tone, “Widen your stance a bit more.”
“Okay…”
“Are you seriously copying him right now?!” Rahim shouted at Peredur who just ignored him to ask Desmond if his stance was now better. Rahim turned to look at Zain as he shouted, “Zain! Do something about your idiot!”
Zain smiled tiredly at Rahim as he asked dryly, “You’ve met Peredur, right?”
“No, no.” Desmond walked towards Peredur as he said, “You need to raise your arms a bit more. You’re leaving yourself open so you have-”
Desmond’s lips curved into an almost feral grin as he automatically blocked Peredur’s left sword as it came slashing toward his torso. He blocked the strike with both swords in a crossed formation lifting it slightly as he commented, “Good tactic. You should have waited for me to get closer.”
“I know but, if you touch me, Oded might take a point.” Peredur replied with a grin, “Had to take a risk, ya know?”
Desmond laughed and nodded, “Yeah, I get it.”
“Brace yourself,” Desmond ordered but didn’t wait for Peredur to say anything, not when he could see the remaining three already charging toward them. He pushed Peredur’s sword downward to force the young man to bend forward and smacked his neck with his left sword before hitting his chest with his right sword. Peredur coughed as his knees buckled and Desmond smacked his back with the butt of his right sword, pushing Peredur to the ground.
“That’s 10 points to Peredur! Stay on the ground!” Oded announced just as Desmond jumped out of the way of Amir’s sweeping strike.
Peredur turned his head to look at Meekhal and dramatically said, “I’m sorry, my friend. I had wished…”
Peredur coughed before he continued, “… to avenge you…”
Meekhal grinned as he said, “It’s okay, Peredur. The sand’s pretty comfy.”
Peredur groaned, “I’m trying to add drama here, Meekhal.”
“Oh, sorry. I think Hamaal’s taking a nap?”
“Just resting my eyes.” Hamaal loudly said as he was a bit farther from Peredur.
“This is why you guys were taken out first.” Peredur groaned.
“Dead people should stay quiet!” Rahim shouted as he charged Desmond. Desmond easily parried his strike but he had to step back as Amir immediately took over, blocking Desmond’s counter. Desmond didn’t have a chance to get his bearing as Zain had slipped between Rahim and Amir, aiming to strike Desmond on the side with his usual reverse-gripped sword fighting style.
It looked very similar to the reverse grip style that Altaïr would have when he was using a short blade but Zain had his left hand hidden behind him, most probably as a way to easily conceal the hidden blade.
Which they didn’t have.
God, Desmond’s life would be so much easier if he had a hidden blade right now.
It did look a bit awkward since Zain’s small stature didn’t really look all that comfortable with their normal-sized sword.
And adorable.
Like a kid…
Oh shit!
Desmond was forced to focus back into the fight when Rahim almost hit him on the leg. He blocked Rahim’s sword but he was forced back as Amir pushed his other sword down, leaving him open for Zain to aim for his torso. He had to let go of both of his swords just to evade Zain’s attack and his lips curved into a small smile.
Okay, so it was clear that Rahim and Amir had been fighting together for a while now and they got their coordination down pat. Zain wasn’t that coordinated with them but he didn’t get in the way, mostly charging in and out whenever Desmond focused too much on Rahim and Amir.
Honestly, Zain was the most dangerous of the remaining three with his quickness and his penchant for hit-and-run tactics.
But Amir was more annoying. He was definitely the most defensive of the three and it was clear that he wasn’t attacking Desmond to get a point, he was attacking Desmond to keep him from getting a point, ensuring that Desmond would continue to fight three opponents.
Well.
It seemed that Amir had to be taken out first.
He wouldn’t get anywhere close to taking down Rahim or Zain with him on the field.
But…
The Bleed he was using…
It was too risky to use it right now. Two swords meant two weights that could be used against him and taking the others out meant Rahim and Amir could coordinate more easily while Zain provided distraction and support.
He needed to risk it.
Desmond picked up a nearby sword that had been lying on the sand and took a deep breath.
Ezio’s stance was too similar to Altaïr’s so that was the riskiest of the stances he actually knew.
But Ratonhnhaké:ton’s sword stance also relied on the habit that he had a pivoting hidden blade on his off-hand or some kind of small blade that he could use as a parrying dagger which meant that he risked the chance of using a move that wouldn’t work with only a sword available to him. Not to mention, he risked hurting the others as Ratonhnhaké:ton’s attacks also usually made use of his fists and legs. The blade they use may be dull but their body could still inflict the same amount of damage regardless.
Also…
His stamina was already reaching its limits. Even if he had been training ever since he could remember on the Farm, this kind of ‘exercise’ was still more than his body was used to.
He needed to conserve his remaining stamina.
Which meant…
There was only one last stance he could use.
He turned his body slightly as his right foot stepped forward together with his right arm currently holding his sword. He kept his right arm relaxed while slightly bending his left arm behind him.
He took a deep breath and waited, raising an eyebrow when all three of them only stared at him. Rahim charged first as he had expected but Amir and Zain were not far behind.
Desmond simply stepped to his left to evade Rahim’s sword and slipped his sword between Rahim and his sword. Instead of striking Rahim, Desmond struck his sword instead, off-balancing him as he took a few involuntary steps forward. Desmond used his left hand to push Rahim's back, making him hit the sandy ground. Desmond raised his sword and struck Amir who had been about to step in front of Rahim, making the young man’s eyes widen, most probably because he assumed Desmond was going to attack Rahim instead. Amir’s block was hastily made, making it easy for Desmond to break it and his sword smacked Amir at the part between the neck and collarbone, making Amir grimace but Desmond was impressed to not hear him say anything.
Seeing Zain in his peripheral, ready to strike at his side, Desmond grabbed Amir by the fabric of his robes, quickly turning the recruit around as if to use him as a shield against a volley of bullets. Instead, Amir shielded Desmond from a quick strike from Zain, making Zain’s eyes widen just as Oded shouted, “Amir has taken 5 points. Amir, drop to the ground.”
Desmond didn’t let Amir fall, instead, he pushed him so he would drop on top of Zain who yelped in surprise. Desmond stepped on Amir to jump higher and reach Rahim who was just about to get up. Desmond struck him with a diagonal slash as he reached him, striking him from the side of the neck onto his chest as Oded announced, “That’s 6 points, Rahim. Stay down.”
“And…” Oded turned his attention to Zain who pushed Amir off him and quickly got up, raising his reverse-gripped sword in front of him, “1 point to Zain for hitting Amir on the torso.”
Zain winced but didn’t say anything.
“Uh… Amir was already dead by then though.” Desmond said as he turned to look at Oded.
Oded simply looked unimpressed as he countered, “Yet Zain should have recognized what you had done. Also…”
“Stop defending your favorite and focus, Desmond.”
“He’s not my-”
“Yes, he is.” Peredur and Meekhal cut Desmond off, making a lot of the Assassins watching them chuckle.
“Use that to your advantage, Zain!” Khalid shouted from outside the ring, “Make your eyes go big!”
“Yeah! Look like you’re a deer about to be butchered!” Rawiya suggested loudly.
“Come on, guys.” Desmond chuckled as he shook his head.
“Go, Desmond! Take down the last kid!” Rawiya cheered gleefully.
“Just imagine you’re killing a baby deer! Defenseless and small!” Khalid added with a big grin.
“Quiet from the gallery.” Oded ordered in a calm tone as he glared at Rawiya and Khalid who looked down while snickering.
“Please don’t hold back, Desmond.” Zain requested as he began to circle Desmond. Desmond followed suit and they both began to circle the ring, “Show no mercy to me.”
“I don’t think I know how to show mercy, to be honest.” Desmond admitted, lips curving into a grim smile as he added more to himself, “Especially when I’m using his stance.”
Desmond sighed and nodded at Zain, “Well… let’s end this.”
“Yes!” Zain nodded back and they both stopped walking. They stared at one another for a moment before they both charged.
Desmond stopped just as they reached one another and readied himself to parry-
What.
Desmond staggered when Zain suddenly pushed himself off the ground, launching himself toward Desmond like a human missile. The added speed made his strike harder than Desmond anticipated and he staggered. Fortunately, Zain rolled further forward, creating distance between them.
It wasn’t exactly a unique move.
Desmond was just surprised.
This would be the first time he’d seen an Assassin in this era do that move.
Zain did it once more and, this time, Desmond was ready.
Which Zain seemed to have realized as he didn’t just roll forward, he actually run after he finished rolling, circling Desmond as if to wait for another chance to charge him.
Desmond knew he could simply make this a battle of attrition. Zain was moving too much and, in a location that would provide him with cover or if he had smoke bombs to hide his movements, that wouldn’t be such a problem.
But in this open training ring?
No matter how fast Zain was, Desmond’s honed senses would always be able to lock onto him the moment he charged and Desmond’s body could easily dodge or block his quick strikes.
Just when it was clear that Zain couldn’t break Desmond’s defenses, Desmond was taken by surprise once more when Zain charged him just like usual. But this time, he used Desmond’s own parry to jump back instead of jumping forward and rolling away from Desmond.
The moment Zain’s legs hit the ground, he used the momentum to jump forward once more and Desmond knew he didn’t have enough time to parry or block Zain’s next strike.
His body moved on its own. Instead of parrying or blocking as Haytham would have done, he stepped forward as his stance changed, letting the weight of the sword help him drop his weapon quicker even if it meant leaving him open. He saw Zain’s eyes widen just as they both reached one another. Just as Zain’s sword was about nick his neck, Desmond closed the distance between them and crouched as he turned around, slamming his sword on Zain’s already precarious balance. Zain fell to the ground and Desmond quickly thrust his sword down.
He stopped before it could hit Zain’s neck and his breathing grew shallower as he realized…
He had instinctively used one of Altaïr’s killing blows.
Zain remained on the ground and Desmond knew that the young man knew that he had lost.
He was waiting for Desmond’s final strike.
Zain turned his head to look at Desmond and nodded solemnly.
Hearing an eagle cry above them, Desmond knew that he was being ordered to end this.
So he let the blunt tip of his sword touch Zain’s nape.
“6 points to Zain! With this, all other combatants are out!” Oded announced, “The winner of this mock battle is Desmond!”
The loud cheering coming from Khalid and Rawiya was soon drowned by clapping and a bit of cheering from the other Assassins. The other recruits stood and walked towards Desmond as Desmond helped Zain up.
Desmond turned to look at Oded and the other recruits took that as their cue to line up.
“We will talk about your schedule after lunch, Desmond. After breakfast, you will study with your tutors.” Oded announced before saying, “I have been informed you know who they are already.”
Seeing the eagle’s shadow flying around the training ring, Desmond nodded.
There were only three people he could think of that would be in charge of his studies after all.
“Good. You are all dismissed. Make sure to do the usual light exercise before leaving for breakfast.”
“Yes, sir!”
Desmond raised his head to look at Bennu who kept circling them.
And wondered if they would think that his deciding strike was too much like the action of an Assassin from Masyaf to be ignored.
Chapter Text
Life as a recruit wasn’t… well, it was eventful but, at the same time, it was quite peaceful.
As peaceful as life can be when a person was an Assassin anyway.
Or… training to be one would be more accurate for Desmond’s situation at the moment.
As he had expected, his tutors turned out to be the three mentors. He was simply happy that he didn’t have to go inside the harem once more, although it seemed that the secret passages in the main castle keep did have some kind of connection to the harem, most probably through the secret underground passages that were all over Alamut.
Secret passages that Desmond had yet to fully explore mainly because being a recruit meant he was busy most of the day and, even if he was to have free time, he usually spent it with the other recruits to help them with whatever they had problems with (Meekhal with his aim or Zain with his stamina) or to train them in one thing or another (Peredur and his insistence that he did want to learn how to use dual swords even if it’s not what the Brotherhood typical used).
Also… he did promise to teach them to properly use the rope dart, and even Rahim’s group had been curious enough to join them.
And Khalid…
Speaking of which, even if he wasn’t with the recruits, Khalid or Rawiya (sometimes both) would visit him.
Mostly just to talk…
It was… nice.
Just having a normal, by Assassin standard anyway, conversation without the looming fear of the Templars searching for him.
To be fair, it wasn’t like Desmond had forgotten that the Templars exist, it was just…
It was easy to forget about them here in Alamut. With its busy but peaceful days…
And Desmond had promised himself that he wasn’t going to do anything that may change the history back in al-Sham.
Okay.
His initial plan was he wasn’t going to change history at all, but he did help Khalid stabilize the blood bomb (which still splattered blood) and haggled with a traveling merchant for the spices he was selling because he remembered that certain spices did color the food so it should work to color smoke as well. Khalid had assumed the red smoke had been poisonous, but Desmond was working on the theory that it was closer to a normal smoke bomb than a poisonous smoke bomb.
Right now, they were getting a sorta yellow-orange smoke, so they were getting somewhere.
And, really, Desmond didn’t even see the point of recreating it to its supposed traditional red smoke.
Tools should be allowed to evolve, staying the same would only lead to stagnation, which could easily tip them over to destruction.
Khalid had raised an eyebrow at that, and Desmond knew it was because he was being dramatic, but that didn’t mean he said anything wrong.
Anyway…
Khalid’s experiments were moving somewhere, so Desmond had to admit defeat and admit that he was changing Alamut.
Considering the distant relationship Alamut and Masyaf had, Desmond was betting that none of these would get to Masyaf.
If Masyaf was to hear of these tools, it would undermine the supposed weak state that Alamut was trying to portray to the rest of the world.
Hell, Rashid had limited the Masyaf Brotherhood’s tools because of honor or some other rot that Desmond didn’t really remember anymore so, as long as Desmond helped with the dishonorable things, the timeline wouldn’t shift in al-Sham.
… Probably.
Hopefully.
Desmond was going to go and try to be optimistic.
Helping Khalid with his experiments ate a bit of his free time, and he was glad that being a recruit meant that his robes were part of the laundry that recruits and novices (usually those being punished for doing something dumb) washed as part of their tasks. Desmond only had to wash his sleeping dresses, and sometimes he didn’t even bother to use them. He was alone in the room and the weather was nice enough that Desmond could stay comfortably cool, sleeping naked.
Whenever he did visit the town beneath the castle, he just wore his recruit robes, since he was already wearing them anyway. The cloth to cover their mouth and nose also helped hide his identity, so people won’t immediately recognize him and give him trinkets or free stuff.
Morning training was done with the other recruits and, since they were already nearing their initiation, they mostly spar or do mock missions to familiarize themselves with the many tasks of an Assassin. After breakfast, Desmond would stay in the castle keep, in one of the biggest study rooms he had ever seen that looked like a small library on its own with two walls filled from top to bottom of bookcases, and study with the mentors.
Raiza taught him history, focusing on the geopolitical situations of nearby kingdoms and states. Sometimes Diya al-Dīn would be there as well, offering more information or things he had heard from his father or grandfather.
Raiza was the most distant of the three mentors, and Desmond usually ignored the awkwardness between them. She was professional as his instructor, although she did have a habit of asking Desmond what he thought about the topics she was teaching him.
It was always along the lines of “Why did you think this or that happened, or why do you think this person did this?” or “If you were in their position, what would you have done?” and Desmond wasn’t even sure if Raiza liked his answers.
He didn’t really like all the hypothetical situations she was making him think about, as they were mostly how Desmond would have reacted if he was the king or the commander or…
The one in power, mostly.
Desmond didn’t like to think about those kinds of things.
He didn’t like the idea of having such power, of being in charge of the lives of so many people.
Sure, he knew that, as an Assassin, his kills would affect lots of people, but it just felt different from what rulers and conquerors did as far as Desmond was concerned.
Honestly, Desmond’s favorite parts were the little sidetracks he and Raiza would usually happen upon, mostly in the form of “maybe a Hidden One had a hand on this”. Raiza was a descendant of the Hidden Ones yet all she had were stories and tales which she shared with Desmond whenever it was connected to their lessons. Desmond enjoyed asking Raiza if she believed that maybe this strange event or this assassination was connected to the Hidden Ones.
It was during these conversations (yes, they were conversations, now that Desmond thought about them, not lessons, just two people talking and theorizing together) that Desmond could see Raiza light up ever so slightly and her body would relax just a bit.
Then they would finish their conversation, and she would be back to being aloof and distant, focused on teaching Desmond and asking him questions that made Desmond’s head hurt and heart wish to never be a king or a ruler of anything.
Nur was more approachable, although her lessons were Desmond’s least favorites. She taught him about the traditions and cultures practiced in Alamut and neighboring kingdoms and states. Sometimes, she’d even tackle what they know about the traditions and cultures of those from crusader lands. Oh, those lessons Desmond was okay with. They were interesting.
It was the lessons about religion that Desmond didn’t really enjoy.
He… He was never a religious person. The Farm didn’t stop anyone from practicing, hell, Desmond knew one of the families living on the Farm was Catholic, but the Miles themselves didn’t have any religious practices of their own.
He didn’t even know if Desmond Miles’ parents were religious, agnostic, or atheist.
And Desmond himself never bothered to try it out.
Then he learned of the Isus and any interest he might have in trying out religion dispersed like smoke.
But Nur did have a point when she answered Desmond’s question as to why he had to learn all these with a patient “Even if you do not believe in it, you are living in a world where religion plays a major part in most people’s lives. Understanding what, why, and how they worship would mean you would not accidentally insult them. And it may help give clarity to their actions.”
So yeah, okay, Desmond understood Nur’s answer, and he also knew that it just made sense if he understood the various religion practiced by the people in Alamut and nearby kingdoms and states.
Also, he had to admit that seeing Zain’s face brighten when he saw Desmond join him for Zuhr made him smile.
Desmond did ask Nur if pretending to practice the same religious practices that the others did shouldn’t be considered rude or insulting, and Nur asked back if those he joined in praying looked like they were insulted.
Desmond had to say no to that.
Hell, even Rahim had only been surprised when Desmond joined him for Maghrib together with Amir when the four of them (including Hamaal) had been charged with tidying up the training ring before dinner.
Oh, and that was the day he learned Hamaal wasn’t religious at all.
So, yeah, Desmond had started memorizing the Quran as well, which… he wasn’t sure would be useful at all.
Also, he was sure it was Nur’s fault that Diya al-Dīn started inviting him to the Friday prayers, and it was always awkward standing next to Diya al-Dīn during Friday prayers.
Dvora though…
Lessons with Dvora were the most interesting but also a bit confusing in the sense that he didn’t really understand why he had to learn how to play traditional musical instruments or why he should know how to dance the traditional dances or…
In other words, Dvora’s lessons seemed to be centered on art, music, and literature.
When he asked Dvora why he had to learn all these, Dvora answered, “One such as us must have these skills.”
Then her lips curved into that playful smile of hers as she added, “Who knows? Perhaps a song or a story will be the exact thing you need to catch that elusive one’s attention.”
That sounded more like some kind of undercover work or a honey trap situation, so he felt the need to clarify it because he didn’t really like to do any honey trapping, “Like seducing someone?”
Dvora chuckled before raising an eyebrow as she teased, “If you would like to learn how to seduce a man, then I will be more than happy to teach you, little one.”
She leaned forward as she asked in a whisper, “Is there a specific man you’d like to seduce?”
“Nope!” Desmond immediately answered, “No seducing lessons necessary. No, thank you. Let’s just get back to dancing, okay?”
Dvora simply chuckled before nodding, “Very well. From the top.”
Desmond had lost count of how many lessons he’d spent dancing to an invisible ‘partner’ while Dvora played. When Desmond learned the steps well enough, Dvora would become his partner and he’d be taught both the leading and the following part of the dance.
After his afternoon lessons (and it was always Monday and Tuesday with Raiza, Wednesday and Thursday with Nur, and Saturday and Sunday with Dvora), he would usually have one-on-one lessons with Oded who focused mostly on fixing his bad habits.
Specifically… Desmond’s habit of not prioritizing his own safety if it meant delivering the killing blow or risking his life to perform a dangerous jump.
They didn’t talk about Desmond’s final killing blow.
Well, they did, but it was more focused on Desmond’s bad habit and how to mitigate it.
“Mitigate it?”
“That habit is dug too deeply into your actions. That’s something that only happens if you’ve been doing it for a long time and no one ever bothered to correct you.” Oded explained in a tone that showed no judgment. Desmond could see that Oded was just explaining what he saw, and he appreciated the ‘no judgment’ tone he gave, “You’ve been training since you were a child, weren’t you?”
Desmond remained quiet.
“And none of your instructors had tried to stop you. Perhaps they even drilled in your mind that your life is secondary to the success of your mission.” Oded continued, “That habit of yours, especially in your final attack against Zain… that’s not something that you just pick up on after a year or two. It takes years, even decades, for people to mistake the practice of ‘not cherishing one’s life’ as being fearless.”
At those words, Desmond froze, and his eyes grew wide.
Oded’s expression seemed to soften, and he patted Desmond’s shoulder lightly as he said, “It’s alright, Desmond. As long as you understand the difference and strive to change, you will get to a point where this bad habit of yours would gradually be fixed. That is what we’re trying to do, to give you a helping hand to start fixing it.”
Desmond remained quiet, unable to tell Oded the real reason why he froze.
Oded had singled out his final blow, the one that came from Altaïr’s Bleed…
And those words…
Desmond just realized that Altaïr…
Altaïr was going to become like him. He would be trained… would be told again and again that the mission’s success must always be the priority, even if it meant his life.
No.
Desmond feared…
Altaïr already believed that.
Oded’s lessons didn’t just focus on fixing his bad habits. They usually sparred, and Oded would sometimes tell him to use one of his other stances instead of the standard one (the one that he knew because of his Bleed of Altaïr). He didn’t seem all that surprised. Well…
Khalid did tell him before that it was common for those with ‘certain backgrounds’ to have different stances. Desmond was the first one that looked like he had been trained in that many different stances and was good (Khalid used the word great, actually, but Desmond was going to ignore that) at all of them. Normally, what would happen was that they would be in the range of ‘alright’ to downward awful to a lot of them or all of them.
And Desmond’s stances only further pushed the rumor that he was a descendant of the Hidden Ones from Leicestershire because his stances all seemed to take the hidden blade into consideration. Even the dual sword stance that was Desmond’s weakest stance in terms of mastery (and Desmond still have no idea which of his ancestor had that stance, no matter how much he meditates, all he got for his troubles were the sounds of men singing sea shanties) also made use of the hidden blades at times.
Khalid heard from a recruit from another batch that overheard Oded and another instructor that Oded believed (god, Desmond was really getting his information from the gossip mill) Desmond had multiple instructors growing up (which… was true… the Farm did have a lot of the adults teaching the kids) and he had been training since he was quite young (also true).
The common consensus appeared to be that his fighting stance all have varying similarities with the ones taught here in Alamut (and Masyaf for that matter) with some of the moves having its origin come from the fighting styles in crusaders’ land.
And he had been taught at a young age by multiple teachers. Taking into account the fact that he refused to talk about his past, how any questions of where his instructors were now had him usually going “All I have left of them are my memories.” which many had assumed to mean that his instructors were all dead (sorta true?), many were now assuming that he was one of the survivors of the Hidden Ones’ descendants in Leicestershire.
If Desmond was right in understanding Khalid’s unnecessarily long gossip while ignoring the drama aspect of it, it appeared that Desmond had unintentionally made them believe that his different stances were… originally the Hidden Ones’ fighting stance (hence some similarities with the ones taught here which was really because of Altaïr’s fighting style became the common style of the Masyaf Brotherhood and any Brotherhoods or branches descended from them which was the basis of Ezio’s fighting style as well thanks to the Italian Brotherhood’s origins coming from the Polos who learned in Masyaf before it was abandoned to the Mongols) that had evolved to include the fighting styles common in crusaders' land which might be their explanation for Ratonhnhaké:ton’s, Haytham’s and the mysterious bleed’s fighting style?
In other words, by using different stances and showing his mastery in them, they made a convoluted story that painted Desmond as being a true descendant of the Hidden Ones that have been taught multiple stances to try and keep the heritage and traditions of the Hidden Ones alive.
“What about my parents?”
“Hm?”
“They do know about my parents, right? If I’m one of the few survivors, then shouldn’t my parents be as well?” Desmond asked, remembering how he did give a bit of information about Desmond Miles’ parents to Khalid and Diya al-Dīn.
“Well…” Khalid rubbed his chin with a thoughtful look on his face. Desmond didn’t mind, the evening breeze was cool, and it felt good against his freshly bathed skin.
He had seen Khalid on his way out of the thermae and joined him after learning Khalid was waiting for Hilde, so they could eat dinner together.
It was apparently a weekly thing Hilde made Khalid promise to do because they were promised to one another, so they should do something like this, right?
Desmond was getting the feeling Khalid was just used to saying yes to whatever his betrothed requested.
He wasn’t doing anything since he had dinner with the recruits anyway (and he was making progress. Peredur and Rahim just snarked at each other without any threats of bodily harm while they all sat together) so he joined Khalid on the rooftops.
“Well, Diya al-Dīn believe your father isn’t a Hidden One.”
Ouch. William Miles would have been so offended.
“That he might even be a crusader…”
Oooohhh.
Now that was just twisting the knife stuck in the guts.
“… who married your mother, the true descendant of the Hidden Ones.” Khalid continued, “He believes your instructors might have been related to your mother, maybe father, and brothers?”
Desmond just hummed.
Technically, she was only related to one of his supposed ‘instructors’.
“Something must have happened to have you run away from home. Perhaps your relatives from your mother’s side and your mother…” Khalid’s voice trailed, and he looked at the night sky, “Well… that’s what Diya al-Dīn thinks anyway.”
“And you?” Desmond asked as he stared at Khalid, “What do you think?”
“Honestly?” Khalid turned to grin at Desmond as he admitted, “I stopped trying to figure you out.”
“You gave up?” Desmond asked as he tilted his head, curious as to why someone so inquisitive like Khalid would willingly stop.
He knew he was a mystery, probably the biggest mystery in all of Alamut at the moment.
He also knew that a lot of the Assassins and scholars had joined in the fun of trying to figure out who Desmond really was because he was the only interesting thing happening in Alamut at the moment.
Thankfully, the town seemed oblivious to it and only saw him as an orphan who found his way to Alamut, training to be an Assassin after the mentor had seen his potential.
Desmond didn’t try to do anything ‘fancy’ whenever he was in town, so he might have just appeared pretty normal with the potential the townspeople seemed to think coming from his hunting abilities.
“Felt rude to poke around something you want to keep a secret.” Khalid answered and turned to stare at the night sky once more, “That’s not what friends do, right?”
“I guess so,” Desmond answered, not wanting to admit that he wouldn’t actually know. He had kept so many secrets for as far as he could remember, and he never actually told every secret he had to anyone.
Hell, from what he could remember from his Bleeds, none of his Bleeds had anyone to tell everything to.
Even though Altaïr had Malik and Maria later in life, Desmond was sure there were many things Altaïr didn’t share with them, not because he didn’t trust them but because he had harbored these secrets for so long that he saw no need to burden anybody else with it.
Ezio had Claudia, but he didn’t talk about how their father and brothers died and how it felt watching it happen before his eyes, not wanting Claudia to feel bad.
What he had left of Haytham was almost nonexistent but, from what Desmond could remember, Haytham had trust issues as big as the goddamn ocean.
And Ratonhnhaké:ton? Desmond didn’t relive his later memories, so he didn’t know if he ever found anyone he could truly trust with everything. Desmond truly hoped he did, but… well… he was already 3 for 3 in that regard, so either Ratonhnhaké:ton would be a statistical anomaly at this point or Desmond was going for 4 for 4.
“I should warn you, by the way.” Khalid laid down and rested his head on his hands as he said, “I got a letter from my brother. He gave it to one of the Assassins we sent for last month’s report.”
“Oh?” Desmond tilted his head.
“Apparently, some of Rashid's informants or Assassins heard some of the Assassins we have on the borders of al-Sham talk about you.”
Well, fuck.
“The old man of the mountains has heard of ‘this Desmond boy’ and dear old brother asked me what you look like and if you really took down 3 Assassins.”
“Wait. Assassins?” Desmond frowned.
“I know, right? It seems that the info that got back to Masyaf has been exaggerated. Or maybe they thought 6 recruits are equivalent to 3 Assassins, who knows?” Khalid said flippantly before continuing, “Anyway, the mentor told me to reply in any way I want as long as I do not tell my brother that you look a lot like Rashid’s golden boy.”
Desmond frowned, knowing Khalid meant to it to be derogatory on Rashid’s part by that, but still feeling insulted over the way he said it. Khalid glanced at him before continuing, “I plan to tell my brother that they were recruits, not Assassins. Although I won’t correct the number… As for your looks…”
Khalid grinned as he suggested, “How about I go with ‘pretty’?”
Desmond laid down as well and stared at the sky as he asked, “Oh? Am I pretty?”
“Not enough? I am willing to write handsome.” Khalid said playfully, “I’m not going to wax poetry of your honey-glistened eyes, though. I’m afraid my brother won’t believe me if I do borrow that line.”
“What?” Desmond turned to look at Khalid with confusion. Seeing Khalid’s grin, he groaned and turned his head once more, covering his face as he asked, “Shit. It’s Peredur’s story, isn’t it?”
“I returned it to him after the mock battle, by the way. Gave him my honest opinion and even… what did you call it?” Khalid hummed before remembering, “Ah, yes. Proofreading.”
“Did you really have to tell me the contents, though?”
“What? Don’t you want to have a say in what’s written about you?” Khalid asked innocently, and Desmond did not believe that he had done it for that reason. Not one bit.
“Of course I would prefer it if nobody wrote anything about me, but Peredur is making it a fantasy-heavy story. I mean… Meekhal told me he was planning on adding a goddamn djinn to it. Like, why?” Desmond complained before sighing once more, “I’ll tell you what I told Meekhal. Don’t tell Peredur I know, okay? I want Peredur to tell me when he’s ready, not because he feels the need to come clean because he knows I know.”
“I don’t plan to anyway.” Khalid said before commenting, “His prose tends to be too flowery for my taste, but the plot itself sounds interesting. I’m waiting to see if he’s gonna add us to the story.”
“Really?” Desmond turned to stare at Khalid with an unimpressed expression.
“Aren’t you curious what kind of character he’d base on us?” Khalid asked, grinning as he said, “I’m thinking he’s going to make me a troublemaker, maybe someone who has an unhealthy obsession with poisons and explosions.”
“And you don’t?”
“Oh, I’m shocked you would think that, my friend!” Khalid placed his hand on his chest as he said dramatically, “I have a healthy amount of obsession for poisons and explosions.”
“I have an unhealthy obsession with the Hidden Ones’ tools.” Khalid corrected with a wink before closing his eyes as he admitted, “But I am enjoying the ideas we have for new tools based on what records we have. The mentor has agreed to our proposal to stop trying to recreate them and try to make our own based on them.”
“Well, I just don’t see the point in letting the past shackle us.” Desmond commented as he turned to stare at the sky once more, placing his right hand over his stomach as he said, “Not when we can make it better for us.”
“I supposed Alamut and Masyaf are stuck in the past in two completely different ways.” Khalid mused, “We try to recreate the past while Masyaf is trying to get away from it. From…”
Khalid opened his eyes and stared at Desmond for a moment before he said, “I should probably tell this to you now. I have a feeling it would just be awkward if you learn about it years from now from another person.”
Desmond turned to look at Khalid, sensing the seriousness in his tone. He remained quiet and simply listened as Khalid admitted, “When I was sent here, I was just a child and I had no one. The mentor used to visit me a lot, usually to ask if I was okay or how was my day going. Just… unimportant daily conversations.”
“But… they were enough. It became something normal in my life that helped me get used to my life here.” Khalid’s lips curved into a small smile as he added, “Kinda like how we ‘hang out’ as you like to call it. It was… nice. Uncomplicated. Just… something normal for people like us.”
Desmond knew what Khalid meant, and he felt warm, knowing that Khalid felt the same way as he did.
“When I became an Assassin, the mentor admitted he was thinking of adopting me. To name me as his successor.” Khalid admitted, making Desmond blink at him. Khalid turned to stare at the sky as he continued, “But he said that it would be better if we do it after I have made a name for myself as an Assassin. He tasked me with remaking the tools of the Hidden Ones as a way for me to prove myself as both an Assassin and a scholar.”
Khalid shrugged as he added, “And he knew I’ve always liked tinkering with stuff.”
“But now…” Khalid grinned as he said, “I told him I didn’t want to be adopted. I didn’t want to be his successor.”
“Why not?” Desmond asked, frowning as he said, “I mean… with Diya al-Dīn’s guidance, you could have been a good mentor.”
“Probably.” Khalid turned and closed his eyes as he said, “But that’s too much work and I prefer to be in charge of this R&D department you talked about a few days ago. Being the boss of researching and developing tools to help us and take down our enemies easier? That sounds more like me.”
Desmond chuckled as he nodded, “Yeah, that feels more like your element.”
“And I think there’s a bett-”
“Khalid!”
Both Khalid and Desmond sat up and looked down, where Hilde and Maria were standing just by the entrance of the thermae, wearing white cloaks that reminded Desmond of the abaya he would sometimes see back in the 21st century. Their heads were covered by a hijab that had veils underneath to cover their face. He only recognized them because of Hilde’s voice and Maria’s slumped shoulders.
“Oh, hi, Desmond.” Hilde greeted before asking, “Will you be joining us for dinner?”
Hilde raised the basket she held in her hands slightly as she said, “I think this will be enough for the four of us.”
Desmond was sure it was only meant for the three of them, and he wasn’t particularly hungry, so he said, “Nah. I was just keeping Khalid company till you guys get here.”
“Aaww, that’s so sweet.” Hilde turned to look at Khalid as she asked, “Did you tell him?”
“No.” Khalid sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “And I’ll tell him now if you give me a few minutes.”
“Alright, alright.” Hilde turned around as if to give them some privacy, “Oh, yes, Maria, about tomorrow…”
“What Hilde wants me to tell you is…” Khalid turned to look at Desmond while Hilde began to talk to Maria about tomorrow’s shift, most probably to not eavesdrop on them, “Hilde told me to tell you that you should tell Peredur what kind of partner you want.”
“What kind of partner… I want?” Desmond repeated as he tilted his head, unsure of what Khalid was talking about.
Khalid rubbed the back of his neck once more as he said hesitantly, “You know… romantically?”
“Oh!” Desmond nodded before frowning, “Why?”
“Because if you don’t, he’ll probably write about what kind of woman he thinks you’d like.” Khalid explained, “And he’ll just be embarrassed if you tell him you don’t like that kind of woman after he had already written, or you’d feel too awkward that you’d just let him believe that’s what you’re looking for-”
Desmond smiled at him.
“What?”
“Nah. It’s nothing.”
“It looks like something.”
“I’m just… I guess I’m just happy.” Desmond admitted, grinning as he asked, “This is the kind of dumb things friends worry about, right? It’s really nothing important, but we still talk about it. It’s…”
“It’s nice,” Desmond said softly, making Khalid stare at him.
“Yeah, it is.” Khalid agreed with a small smile as well.
“I guess I’ll try and find a way to tell Peredur what my type is without telling him about the whole…” Desmond sighed as he stood, “… story thing.”
“Or you can tell him you don’t want to have any partners.” Khalid shrugged as he added, “That might be strange for a lot of people, but it’s not like there aren’t any stories about a celibate hero, after all.”
“I guess…” Desmond stared at Khalid and…
He could see why Diya al-Dīn had thought of adopting Khalid and making him his successor.
His relationship with Hilde looked like they were equals, and he was more open to changes and unconventional ideas than what would probably be normal for others.
Maybe he had been planning to introduce Khalid to the mentors after he was adopted.
“What?” Khalid tilted his head as he noticed that Desmond was staring at him for a while.
“Nothing.” Desmond shook his head as he admitted, “Just thought you’d make a good mentor.”
“Well…” Khalid grinned as he stood as well, “I could have been a good mentor… sure. But what Alamut needs…”
Khalid turned to stare at Desmond as his grin grew bigger, “… is a great one.”
Chapter 24
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
For the next few months, Desmond got used to his life as a recruit. Morning training with the other recruits, breakfast, studies with the mentors, lunch, one-on-one lessons with Oded which sometimes become chores or guard patrols with the other recruits if Oded had other prior engagements.
His one-on-one lessons with Oded would sometimes have Oded order him to use a specific stance, and they would spar, with Oded calling him out every time he made a move that would put him in danger. Apparently, among the four (five if he was counting that unknown dual wielder Bleed) stances he had mastered, Altaïr’s stance was the most reckless and got Desmond called out about 20 times in a single spar with Oded. That was the highest he had at the moment.
Which really only made Desmond more worried about Altair in general.
Which in turn made Oded think that Desmond was worried about himself and Desmond tried to ignore the warmth that he felt whenever Oded would tell him that he was making progress. That it might not look that way right now but Oded assured Desmond that he was getting better in not being so reckless.
Desmond just nodded every time Oded tried to… well, cheer him up in his own Oded-ish way because it wasn’t like he would try to clear up the misunderstanding when it meant revealing his connection to Altaïr.
Sometimes, he would spar with other Assassins, including Khalid and Rawiya. They were quite fun and a lot of the other Assassins liked to ask about his other stances, trying to poke for any information that Desmond would give. Desmond just let them fall deeper and deeper into the theory that he had multiple instructors who were no longer with him. Someone who had been raised in Masyaf was the only one who was brazen enough to comment on how Altaïr’s stance was a lot like the stance Alamut and Masyaf learned.
But the recklessness in Altaïr’s stance, the whole ‘I won’t get hit if I hit them first’ mentality that it had made that Assassin believe that Desmond learned a variation of the stance.
That… his stance was another ‘evolution’ of the Hidden Ones’ stance together with Ezio’s while the other stances he had were more on the side of the fighting style available in Leicestershire and England, modified to be used alongside a Hidden Blade.
Desmond…
Desmond didn’t know what to do.
It seemed that Altaïr had developed his own faster and more reckless stance, evolving it from the usual stance that the Assassins learned in Masyaf and Alamut.
In other words…
He had feared that using Altaïr’s techniques would make him a target of more ‘he’s from Masyaf’ rumors but Altaïr’s overachiever tendencies had struck once more and…
… made everyone believe that Desmond was using a completely different evolution of the same traditional fighting style they had gotten from the Hidden Ones.
Desmond was left speechless.
He was pretty sure that normal people wouldn’t go through all that mental gymnastic when the more logical explanation of “this unknown kid has been trained in the ways of Masyaf's Assassins, but he changed it a bit” would have been easier to think about.
At this point, Desmond was pretty sure everyone in Alamut believed he was a descendant of the Hidden Ones, and they were deliberately choosing to believe theories that would support it.
It was like… what was it called? Confirmation bias? Desmond was sure that was what that was called.
In other words, anything Desmond would do would make everyone just believe that it was something that the Hidden Ones did.
Desmond could list all the books he remembered in the main library in Masyaf and people would probably go “Oh, the Hidden Ones in Leicestershire had quite the library. Shame it was destroyed.”
Desmond was half-relieved that he didn’t have to think of his own background but also half-exasperated because…
What. The. Fuck.
The Assassins here in Alamut seemed to cling too hard to these supposed Hidden Ones.
But Desmond couldn’t really blame them.
It was like a child who wished to know about their birth parents.
To know… their history…
To know about the people who helped made them who they were right now…
Desmond could relate to it, or maybe he was projecting the loneliness he felt now that his Bleeds felt more like mist disappearing as morning come.
So…
He was going to ignore it and just say noncommittal or vague answers for anyone who asked him about his supposed connection to the Hidden Ones.
Morning training itself was lax as Oded knew they all had the basics down pat. Mostly, they were paired off or worked in groups to help each other’s weak points, and Oded normally had Desmond join one of the groups to help them or had Desmond help a specific recruit (usually the one lagging behind the most).
… Or break up the brewing argument between Peredur and Rahim…
Good news! They were only arguing now and Peredur’s snark has that hint of teasing in it that Desmond was going to take as a good sign. He was being optimistic and believed that Rahim would start using ‘invader’ as more of an affectionate nickname without any malice any time now. Right now, it was in the realm of tired ‘I can’t believe I have to deal with you’ side but that was what Desmond would like to call progress!
Bad news! He had become known as the children wrangler, a job that had been Amir’s (and sometimes Zain’s) title before and had now been given to Desmond with Amir’s very, very grateful smile.
Not that Desmond could even blame him.
Other times, Oded let the recruits ask Desmond about a specific technique he used during their mock battle or to teach them advanced techniques they could use for the rope dart.
… Meekhal had asked to be taught how to use a bomb.
Oded had glared at them.
Desmond had to suffer through Meekhal’s disappointed “oh, okay…” expression when Desmond told him that, until the bombs were approved by the ‘mentor’, they wouldn’t be using any.
Then Khalid told him after dinner when he met up with him and Rawiya in the thermae (he was still using the private rooms, of course, and Rawiya and Khalid didn’t invite him to join them which was nice of them) that Meekhal had visited him to ask for ‘secret lessons’.
Khalid said no, of course. He might enjoy causing trouble a bit too much, but he knew how dangerous bombs would be.
Desmond was still worried about his “I did tell him he can throw my next blood bomb prototype. That won’t hurt him unless the ceramic casing hit him.” though.
Because, yeah, it was true that it shouldn’t hurt him, but the blood bombs were still in their prototype phase so anything could happen.
He was just hoping Khalid would let Meekhal practice with a ball of yarn or something similar first.
“Today, all of you will run from the first gate to the very top of Shadow’s Tower. From there, you will perform a leap of faith.” Oded instructed their morning training for today, “After that… if there are any time left, you can train by yourselves, spar, or…”
Oded stared directly at Desmond as he dryly repeated the word that the recruits have been using which they got from Desmond, “Chill.”
Oh, Desmond just got goosebumps hearing Oded say it.
It sounded like someone old enough to be his grandfather trying to say ‘Rock on, dudes’…
And he was pretty sure Oded was just old enough to barely be his father… as he was right now.
“This is not a competition.” Oded added as he glanced at Peredur and Rahim who were now required to stand next to one another by Desmond’s orders. Oded turned his attention to all the recruits as he continued, “And hindering another’s progress is forbidden.”
Oded nodded as he said, “Desmond, lead the morning stretches and warm-ups. Your usual run around the castle will be shortened to two rounds. On your third, make your way to the first gate. Once you touch the gates, that will mark your start, and you can proceed as slow or as quickly as you’d prefer. Your time will not be recorded.”
Desmond was sure there was more to it than what Oded was saying.
It couldn’t just be as easy as running from the first gates to the Shadow Tower…
“Only after all of you have performed a leap of faith will you all be dismissed to do whatever you want. As long as one has not yet taken his leap, you will all have to wait by the base of the tower.” Oded nodded as he said, “Begin.”
Desmond clapped his hands as he walked towards the front, turning around so he could face everyone as he said, “Alright. We’ll start with the usual…”
The first gate was the unofficial but more commonly used name of the gates that separated the town and the road leading to the castle.
The gate that separated the town from the rest of the world was called the main gate though.
Anyway…
The three gates leading to Alamut Castle from town were usually called the first gate (the gate separating the town from the road), second gate (the gate that was in the midway point of the first gate and the castle), and third gate (the gate that leads to the castle proper).
Their official names were Madar , Pidar, and Seda .
Mother, Father, and Voice.
Together with the statues of the Capitoline Triad and the key with the Isu word for Sacred Voice carved onto it (the key that Raiza told him was his to use as he pleased as long as he did not use it in front of other people), Desmond had a feeling that Alamut was connected to the Isus more than Masyaf was.
He just couldn’t remember why.
He felt like he should know why…
And the answers lay on Altaïr’s Bleed.
… which was pretty much nonexistent at this point.
But that only meant that he’d have his answer…
47 years from now…
Desmond sighed, making Zain who was running behind him, a little to his right, ask, “What’s wrong, Desmond?”
“Nothing.” Desmond waved his hand as he continued to jog in front of the others, setting their pace as they jogged the long winding road toward the first gate. He felt Amir’s curiosity coming from behind him, a little to his left, so he answered vaguely, “Just thinking that 47 years is a long time.”
Amir and Zain turned to look at each other with confused expressions before they turned back to face the front as Amir agreed in a slightly confused tone, “Yes, that is a very long time.”
“Is there something important that should happen decades from now?” Zain asked curiously.
“Probably… the most important day in my life,” Desmond mumbled as his lips curved into a mirthless smile.
Desmond would probably be happy then, right?
To finally be able to talk to Altaïr, to tell him everything…
But…
At that point…
Altaïr would probably hate him.
For not doing anything…
For standing still…
As the people he loved suffered and died…
They finally reached the first gate, and it seemed that another batch of recruits was stationed to guard it today.
“‘Morning, Desmond!” One of the recruits who actually looked older than Amir greeted him with a nod. He nodded at the others behind Desmond as he said, “Everyone.”
“Hey, Markos.” Desmond nodded at him, noticing the way Markos’s smile grew when he heard Desmond say his name.
Of course, it took a while but Desmond remembered the names of the other recruits.
It was only ‘polite’.
And it gave him brownie points.
“I thought you were going to visit your family in Cyprus?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head.
“Oh, Oded asked me to stay in Alamut until tomorrow. The Assassins that were patrolling Alamut’s borders should be returning tomorrow. We’re a bit… how do you say it? Oh, right! Understaffed at the moment.” Markos explained.
“Bandits in the borders?” Desmond asked with a frown, remembering Rawiya telling him that was the reason why his brothers left Alamut all of a sudden, to confirm if the ones terrorizing Alamut’s southwestern borders were bandits.
“Most probably.” Markos sighed, “Those from and near Jerusalem travel this far away, hoping to get away from the death and suffering the Crusaders bring, only to turn to banditry once they are left with no way to find food.”
Desmond frowned although he understood what Markos was saying. The villages in Alamut’s borders were the ones suffering from the influx of banditry in the area and the Assassins of Alamut would pretend to be soldiers from Alamut castle to take down the bandits.
It just seemed… like an endless cruel cycle.
Those bandits were left with no choice. They had no one to ask help from, and they must have lost many people along the way.
Desmond knew that the Brotherhood wasn’t wrong in defending the villages and the best way to keep them safe was to take out the bandit hideouts but…
Desmond supposed he felt like the bandits should have a chance as well, that some, if not all of them, would love to have a normal life if they were given a chance.
But he had no say in any of these.
Not when he was just a recruit…
“What’re you guys talking about?” Peredur asked as he handed the water skin that the recruits were passing around as they took their short break.
Markos looked at Desmond and Desmond nodded at him before he turned to face the recruits just as Zain finished taking a sip and handing it to him. He took the water skin from Zain as he said, “We’ve got reports that the team sent to the borders would be returning tomorrow.”
Rahim’s face darkened as he asked while Desmond drank a bit of water from the water skin, “Think they’d be bringing in more refugees?”
“We don’t know.” Desmond shook his head before guessing as he handed the water skin to Amir who secured it before placing it on his belt, “I don’t think we have any more places in town for them even if we do. If they did rescue any families, we’d probably have them stay in the inn for a night or two and give them supplies when they leave.”
“I heard from one of the Master Assassins that the mentor is thinking of building a village below us.” Peredur said as he wiped his brows with the end of his sash, “Maybe those families could help build it?”
“Oh, yeah? And where would they be staying while they help build it? The inn? Outside?” Rahim dryly asked before crossing his arms, “If the problem’s space, I can tell my sister. We won’t mind opening our home-”
“Lalee is unmarried!” Amir shouted as his hands flayed in panic, “She can’t share a home with a man she is not related to!”
“Then go marry her already.” Rahim dryly stated.
Hamaal chuckled and patted Amir’s back as he reminded Rahim, “You know he promised your sister…”
Hamaal cleared his throat and his easy grin turned into a pretty close mimic of Amir’s serious expression. His voice was a few pitches lower, and he had the same cadence as Amir’s as he said, “Lalee, the star of my eyes, I promise to make you the happiest bride in all of Alamut once I have become an Assassin.”
The other recruits laughed as Amir’s entire face turned red.
“Alright, alright.” Desmond clapped his hands to get their attention with a smile on his face, “Come, on, stop teasing Amir and his romantic heart.”
“Your words are not as comforting as you think it is, Desmond.” Amir sighed.
“I never said I was trying to comfort you.” Desmond teased before focusing his attention on all of them, “I think that’s long enough for a short break. Let’s all line up and place our hands on the gates.”
“Oh, right!” Markos stepped away from them as he said, “I’ll go back to my post then. Have fun with your training today!”
“Thanks, Markos!” Desmond shouted at him before turning to face the others once more, “Come on. We don’t have all day.”
All the recruits lined up in a way that made Desmond stand in the middle, and they all placed their right hand on the gates.
“Remember…” Desmond turned to look at Peredur and Rahim as he stressed slowly, “This isn’t. A. Competition.”
“Yes, sir.” Rahim and Peredur answered with a nod before grimacing when they both realized that they had answered in unison.
“Let’s go!” Desmond shouted and lightly tapped the gate before turning around. All the recruits turned around as well, and they began to run, much to the cheering of the ones stationed by the gates.
The road to the castle was a long winding path but the road was pretty well maintained. It had to be considering they would regularly bring supplies to the castle in carts. As they ran, they easily fell into their usual formation with Desmond taking the lead and setting their pace.
… Except Hamaal had broken formation, running alongside Desmond. He ran a bit faster until he was a few feet ahead before turning to look back at them while running backward. He grinned at everyone as he suggested, “How about we make this more interesting?”
Desmond wanted to sigh as he already had an idea of what Hamaal was going to suggest.
“Let’s make this a race. First one to take a leap wins.” Hamaal announced.
“What’s the prize?” Peredur shouted, taking the bait just as Desmond expected.
“No prize! It’s just for fun.” Hamaal said before his grin grew as he added, “Or, if you really want a prize, we call the winner ‘milord’ for an entire day, and they get to decide what we do after we finish this race.”
That… was a prize that Desmond could get behind.
And… there was nothing wrong with a little competition here and there.
He remembered Ezio’s recruits used to have a few of them as a way to build rapport with the others.
“Alright.” Desmond nodded, feeling Amir’s surprise. Amir must have expected hm to say no which was fair, “But remember, no sabotaging.”
“Of course. Let’s have a clean fair race.” Hamaal said with a nod before he turned around, “Ready…”
“Go!” Desmond shouted before Hamaal could and sprinted ahead of everyone, lips curving into a grin when he heard the surprised shouts coming from behind…
And Hamaal’s laughter…
“Did you enjoy your morning lessons?”
Desmond blinked.
Was… was Raiza actually making small talk?
This was the first time she had done such a thing.
Huh.
“It was pretty fun,” Desmond answered honestly.
And he enjoyed how the Assassins guarding the second and third gates had closed them, forcing Desmond and the others to find a way to climb over the gates.
“Cutting the ropes to propel you to the top quickly was quite a smart move,” Raiza commented as she stood in front of the bookshelf that Desmond was pretty sure hid the entrance to the hidden passages below them.
“Thanks,” Desmond answered, remembering how the others had thought it was pretty cool.
“And you even took the time to help the others…” Raiza continued and Desmond assumed she was talking about how he boosted Zain up so they could all climb the walls of the castle which was faster than trying to evade the busy scholars walking all over the main courtyard.
“It’s what anyone would have done,” Desmond said and Raiza turned to look at him.
“No, sweet child. Not everyone.” Raiza said, and it didn’t feel like she was trying to correct Desmond, just… stating a fact.
No.
Stating what she believed to be a fact.
“Rashid’s children will leave one of their owns if it means the success of the mission,” Raiza noted as she turned to face the bookshelf once more. She picked the third book from the left on the fourth row as she continued, “Yet your bad habit is that you will willingly sacrifice yourself if it means saving someone you know.”
Desmond frowned but didn’t say anything, watching her as she took out the same key that he had. She slotted the key into a small hole behind the bookcase as she continued, “You know the importance of life, yet you do not treasure your own.”
She paused then turned to look at Desmond as she corrected herself, “No. It is not that you don’t treasure your life. It’s that you are willing to throw it away so easily.”
She turned the key and Desmond heard an almost inaudible click before she turned the key once more and pulled it out. The key disappeared into the sleeve of her dress and she returned the book as she said, “Many will say that there are some things worth dying for. That the Creed is worth dying for.”
She placed her hand on the side of the bookshelf and pushed it slightly. The bookshelf started to slide to the other side, revealing an open doorway.
Desmond blinked when Raiza leaned down and grabbed the edge of one of the planks of the wooden floor that had been hidden by the bookshelf before instead, easily opening it up to reveal a staircase leading down.
Oh.
Desmond stared at the open doorway that seemed to lead to a dark hallway.
A different hidden passage or a fake one?
Desmond was betting it was both.
That it was a more conventional hidden passage, but it wasn’t connected to the underground passages.
“Come,” Raiza said as she descended the staircase.
And Desmond followed her as she had ordered.
Desmond had expected Raiza to lead him back to the harem, and he had been ready to just suck it up and hope he didn’t have to stay too long.
Instead, Raiza led him to the small room that housed the hanging herbs and other plants they were drying.
They were in the mentor’s tower.
Desmond blinked when Raiza opened another false bottom just below the table where Desmond usually placed the basket that had the plants and herbs so he could prep them to be hanged and took out a Master Assassin’s robes from inside the chest that was under the false bottom. She simply slipped the robes over her usual dress and Desmond was impressed by how fast she managed to wear the entire outfit.
Like she was used to having to be quick in wearing it.
She turned to look at Desmond as she covered the lower half of her face with the fabric all Alamut Assassins had in their robes and said in a lower tone that might have sounded like a man’s voice had Desmond not known how Raiza usually sounded like, “Come.”
Desmond followed her as they kept ascending the tower, noticing how she simply ignored the bow that Diya al-Dīn’s guards gave her as they passed Diya al-Dīn’s office.
Instead, she said, “We used to call having more than one mentor a ‘council’.”
Desmond blinked, wondering why Raiza was explaining that right now. They were just three floors from the top at this point and Desmond wondered just how many more floors they would continue to pass, “When there is no clear successor and no one to take the title of mentor… the Hidden Ones would choose an odd number of mentors instead. Those mentors were called a council.”
They reached the second to the top floor, but they didn’t stop and continued to ascend to the top, “When we became the Assassin Brotherhood, the title of mentor became just another name for the imam … For our ruler.”
They finally reached the aviary at the top and Raiza stopped just by the entrance as she said, “Yet Rashid calls himself Al Mualim… makes his children call him ‘master’.”
Her lips curved into a mirthless smile as she commented, “He is mentor, master, and imam in the eyes of those in Masyaf.”
She turned to look at Desmond as she said, “And he has heard of you.”
Desmond knew it was only a matter of time.
Words travel even in a place as isolated as Alamut.
Desmond was just grateful that Khalid had given him a heads-up.
Did that mean that Raiza was trying to do the same?
“There will come a time when we will be unable to hide you from Rashid’s eyes.” She began to walk once more as she waved her hand in a gesture that Desmond was going to interpret as her ordering him to follow her. She stopped in the middle and turned to face Desmond who stood in front of her, “And he will find you. Here in Alamut, we have made sure to remove any eyes and ears he might send either by sending them to one of our bureaus or by taking them in and showing them the truth of who Rashid is.”
“Out there? The Brotherhood’s information network is far-reaching, and we cannot cut its flows, not when it will cripple all of our brothers.” Raiza let out a short whistle and Desmond heard Bennu’s usual cry.
“Close your eyes.”
Desmond closed his eyes.
“All we can do is prepare you for the inevitable.” Raiza said in a softer tone, “Impart you what we know and…”
She took his left hand and pulled it slowly, “Guide you in understanding where you can find help if you need it.”
“Now… choose.”
Desmond paused when Raiza let go of his hand.
He didn’t understand what he was supposed to be choosing.
But…
He could feel it…
There was something in front of him.
No.
Not something.
Somethings …
He could feel them.
And the one that called out to him…
He reached a little to his left and…
His breath hitched when he felt it.
“Open your eyes.”
Desmond opened his eyes and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
As he watched as the smallest of four chicks nuzzle his hand.
“These are all Bennu’s children,” Raiza stated as Bennu rested on her shoulder. It was impressive how she was able to hold the chicks’ nest without it breaking but Desmond couldn’t even focus on that, staring at the chick as it chirped at him, “And this child…”
“… is now yours.”
Notes:
Just in case someone asks, Markos is not an OC (technically) nor is he a reference to a similarly named character in AC Odyssey. He’s the same Markos Altaïr meets in AC Bloodlines.
Chapter 25
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The fledgling that was supposed to be his was a greedy little thing. What he lacked in size, he made up by being cunning and quick, taking the food meant for his siblings and gobbling it quickly before it could be recovered.
“That is a good sign.” Raiza told him while they had watched the little fledgling awkwardly but quickly wobble away from his brethren as he tipped his head to gobble the small sliver of food that their mother had brought them, “He wishes to survive even though he is the smallest of them. If he lets his guard down, he can easily be kicked out of the nest by his siblings or his food will be taken from him instead.”
Every time he had lessons with Raiza, they would spend the last thirty minutes in the aviary, climbing the many high beams until they got to the nest that had Bennu’s children. They stayed on the other side as Raiza told him that familiarity would be key in ‘connecting’ with his eagle but, at this stage, it was better to let the fledglings learn how to be eagles first.
Human interactions could easily hinder their development if they weren’t careful.
On the fourteenth week they had been visiting the nest, Desmond saw the little eagle take his first flight. It wasn’t graceful and there were moments when Desmond felt his heart stop out of fear when the eaglet started to drop.
Yet, the little fledgling was stubborn and Desmond couldn’t help the way his breathing hitched when he flew towards him. Desmond held his hands up when he saw the fledgling start to lose altitude and wobble in midair and the little eagle landed on his hands.
His claws pricked his palm but his leather gloves kept him free of any wounds as he slowly lowered his hands.
The fledgling began to let out chirps and flap his wings even though he didn’t look like he was about to fly once more.
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile as he said gently, “Yes, it was a fantastic flight, little one.”
The way the eaglet puffed his chest made Desmond chuckle.
Two weeks after Bennu’s children had begun to take their first flights, Desmond had been helping Rahim and Peredur in cleaning the training ring before dinner and Desmond had been feeling proud over the fact that Rahim and Peredur were agreeing over something.
Well, to be more exact, they were both complaining about how messy the last batch of recruits that used the training ring was, leaving training swords all over and not even bothering to sweep the outside of the training ring of the sand that had been pushed out of the training ring itself, but Desmond was going to consider that progress. (And also, from what he heard, Oded had that batch do laps after their training because of one thing or another and that was why they left without tidying up but Desmond wasn’t going to rain down on this auspicious occasion).
Nothing brings people together faster than complaining about the same person, after all.
Even if that 'person' turned out to be the other recruits.
Desmond had been sweeping the floor just outside the training ring, sweeping the sand back into the ring itself while Rahim and Peredur carried the weapons and other equipment the recruits used back into the storeroom on the first floor of the Shadow’s Tower.
He saw a small shadow of a bird of prey circle above him and he smiled, raising his head to look up. The bird was a bit too high up for him to see clearly but he raised his arm anyway.
Just as he expected, it was the little eaglet.
Well, not so little any more it seemed.
He was still smaller than his two siblings but he looked just as beautiful and dangerous as the rest of the eagles in the aviary. He was mostly light gray but with a light brown head and darker brown flight feathers. He actually looked more like his mother than Bennu who was more brown-colored.
He looked at Desmond with his big yellow eyes and Desmond chuckled as he opened one of his pouches, “Yeah, yeah. I know why you’re here, big guy.”
He took out a small piece of dry meat and offered it to the eagle who gobbled it up. He didn’t make any sounds but he flapped his wings twice while looking at Desmond. Desmond chuckled as he rubbed the eagle’s neck, feeling it shiver against his touch.
“Still haven’t named him then?” Rahim asked curiously as he and Peredur walked towards him.
Desmond turned to face them as he dropped his hand, making the bird stare at it for a moment before flapping his wings twice once more. Desmond automatically began to scratch the bird’s neck again as he answered Rahim, “Nah.”
“What about Hytham? That means young eagle, right?” Peredur asked Rahim who nodded. Peredur turned to grin at Desmond as he commented, “Would be funny to name him ‘young eagle’ even after he’s gotten bigger.”
Rahim crossed his arms as he frowned, “I don’t think that one is going to get any bigger. It looks like the runt of its nest and it’ll probably stay that way.”
“He doesn’t need to be big.” Desmond said and turned to smile at the eagle as he commented, “As long as he’s smart and quick, he’ll survive.”
Before they could continue to talk about the eagle’s size, Desmond began to check the eagle’s feathers, grooming him with his hands much to the delighted shiver the eagle made, as he answered, “And no. I'm not naming him Hytham.”
Raiza had told him that he should be the one to name the eagle but, honestly, Desmond couldn’t think of one.
Well…
Hytham was out of the question because of, well, Haytham.
He did entertain the thought of naming him ‘Ezio’ but it felt like he was playing favorites by naming him Ezio. It was like he was just ignoring Altaïr (even if it would be stupid for him to name him after Altaïr in the first place) and Ratonhnhaké:ton.
“If you don’t want ‘Hytham’, the mentor’s eagle is named after the Egyptian god Bennu.” Rahim remembered as he scratched his cheek, “You can name him Horus if you want?”
“I’m not naming him after a god.” Desmond sighed.
He’d rather not be reminded of any gods right now, especially when it would just make him think about the Isus and…
Yeah.
No names of god, thanks.
Desmond frowned as he looked at the eagle now staring at him. When Desmond stopped grooming him, the eagle tilted his head and Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as it reminded him of the way Altaïr would sometimes tilt his head when he was silently asking someone to elaborate on something or to simply silently ask if something was wrong.
He supposed it was cruel to keep the eagle nameless, especially since he was a smart child. He would fly towards Desmond whenever he heard Desmond whistle to him the same chirps he would usually make when he was trying to get Desmond’s attention.
And…
Names have power. There were stories of how an otherworldly being could only be perceived once its name has been uttered.
Or speaking one’s name out loud would give power over them.
Also, Desmond just felt like a jerk for keeping the eagle nameless.
So… a name…
That would mean something to Desmond…
“Aquila,” Desmond said, making both Peredur and Rahim stare at him with questioning gazes. Desmond grinned as he said, “It’s the name of the eagle constellation… ‘Aquila’.”
It was also the name of the ship Ratonhnhaké:ton sailed and it meant ‘eagle’ just like Ezio.
And…
It was the constellation of which the brightest star was named ‘Altaïr’.
“I heard you have named your companion,” Raiza said the moment Desmond entered the study room.
Desmond wasn’t surprised.
Peredur had been the one to announce that the bird has been named once they reached their table in the dining hall. At this point, all six recruits (seven if Desmond was going to count himself) were now eating their meals together as often as they could. Even when one or two of them would be too busy to eat with them, the rest still continued to eat together. Rawiya and Khalid also sat with them whenever their schedules aligned and it was nice, to enjoy meals with people Desmond saw as friends.
That did mean that the dining hall tend to hear them talk, especially Peredur and Rahim who were the human equivalent of speakers with no mute function.
“Yeah.” Desmond simply nodded as he closed the door and walked inside, “I named him Aquila.”
Raiza stared at him for a moment before she nodded, “Then it’s time we try to connect you to him.”
Desmond tilted his head at that quite cryptic sentence.
Raiza waved her hand as she walked towards him and Desmond met her in the middle of the room. She slowly took his hands and Desmond knew it was to not spook him from the sudden contact. Unlike with his friends, he still had to freeze and stop himself from jumping away whenever Nur tapped his shoulder to catch his attention or whenever Dvora would adjust his stance.
“Close your eyes.”
Desmond couldn’t help the hesitance in his movements as he closed his eyes but Raiza did not say anything about it, simply waiting patiently.
“Inhale deeply.”
Desmond took a deep breath.
“Hold it in.” Raiza instructed before she began to count slowly, “1. 2. 3. 4. 5.”
“Slowly exhale.”
Desmond slowly exhaled as instructed.
“Again. Inhale.”
Desmond took a deep breath once more.
“Hold. 1. 2. 3…”
Desmond recognized this.
It was the same breathing exercise his mother had taught him as a kid to calm himself down whenever he started to panic or cry.
His body relaxed ever so slightly and it felt like he could almost hear his mother’s voice overlap with Raiza’s instructions.
“Keep breathing that way. Good, Desmond.”
“Ignore everything around you. Remember your eagle.”
“Remember how he looks. How he makes you feel.”
He could feel a warm slowly envelop him as he remembered the curious bright stare that Aquila usually had whenever he would see Desmond.
“Let your senses go… imagine the feeling you have whenever you use the Sight.”
“As I count to 5, you will feel your connection to your eagle strengthen.”
“1.”
Desmond could feel it.
His Eagle Vision was activated even though his eyes were closed.
“2.”
He knew he was widening the range of his Eagle Vision, propelled by Raiza’s words.
“3.”
He could see Alamut even though he kept his eyes closed.
“4.”
No. He was seeing Alamut from above.
“5.”
He saw the shadow that continued to follow his every move.
No.
It was his shadow.
It was Aquila’s shadow.
“Holy shit!” Desmond shouted as he opened his eyes. He pulled away from Raiza’s loose grasp and Raiza simply stared as Desmond yelped and took a few steps back, forgetting there was a carpet behind him and falling on his ass.
Raiza stared at him for a moment before she said, “We’ll start training you in getting used to seeing the world using your eagle’s eyes.”
Desmond stared at her with wide eyes.
“Now…” Raiza began to walk towards the desk as she said, “Let us return to where we left off last week-”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Desmond stood and walked towards her as he said, “You can’t just… brush that off. I could see through his eyes!”
“For a second.” Raiza reminded him before stating, “At the very least, you should be able to stay connected for three minutes before we can say your connection is stable. After that, it’s just a matter of practice.”
Desmond stared at her with his slacked jaw.
Holy shit.
This was how they had been using Bennu to watch him this entire time!
“Do you three…” Desmond paused before he corrected himself, “Is this a regular skill for the Assassins here?! Is that why there’s an aviary here?!”
Raiza shook her head as she answered, “The aviary’s been part of Alamut even before the Brotherhood took control of the castle. The records are sparse but a few Hidden Ones were able to connect with eagles and other birds before. It’s a rare skill.”
Raiza’s expression grew grim as she continued, “And it has become even rarer now. Trying to connect with an eagle is part of the tradition here in Alamut but the last people to have been recorded to connect with an eagle were u-”
She stopped and her lips curved into a mirthless smile as she corrected herself, “No. The last one to be recorded was our beloved’s great-grandfather. We… the three of us will never have our names written in the records.”
Desmond’s eyes widened at those words.
But before he could say anything, Raiza stared at him as she said gently, “But you were able to connect with your eagle and your name will be recorded as such. This is cause for celebration. Alamut has not lost its ability to connect with the eagles. This shows that Alamut…”
“... has a bright future ahead.”
From there on, the three mentors gave Desmond the first few minutes (seconds) of their lessons to help him connect with Aquila. Aquila seemed to have some idea that Desmond was connecting with him as he always flew towards the closed window of their study room, tapping the glass and staring at them until they let him in. Aquila was a smart eagle and seemed to recognize people.
He was also… unapologetically utterly spoiled.
“Isn’t he getting a bit fat, milord?” Hamaal asked as all the recruits watch Desmond feed Aquila a strip of dry meat that Desmond had bought specifically for him. Even cured and dried it himself… just the way Aquila preferred it to taste.
“Hm?” Desmond didn’t bother to look at Hamaal or any of the other recruits as they waited for Oded to come to the training ring for their morning training.
He also ignored Hamaal’s nickname for him because that was the best way to deal with Hamaal’s teasing.
He wasn’t even the first to take a leap of faith! He was the last!
That seemed to only mean that he won their little bet because Desmond led them all to the tower and made sure everyone knew how to properly do a leap of faith.
Which… really, Desmond was pretty sure Hamaal pushed for because he didn’t want anyone to call him ‘milord’ since he was the first one to actually take a leap of faith.
“Yeah, pretty sure he’s getting a bit fat.” Peredur agreed.
As if understanding that they were talking negatively about him, Aquila turned to look at the other recruits and they all swore he looked like he was glaring at them. Desmond chuckled and rubbed Aquila’s neck as he gently said, “Don’t listen to them, mi bello . You’re a very handsome eagle.”
He gently caressed the feathers of Aquila’s chest, the only person to be allowed to do such a thing as he whispered, “I mean… these luscious silky feathers show that you’re healthy.”
Aquila preened and opened his wings, making Desmond chuckle as he gently caressed the left wingspan, “Yes, yes. Such mighty wings, you have as well.”
The recruits simply stared at him as he continued to… flatter the obviously preening bird.
“Is this… is this like a father praising his child?” Rahim whispered to Zain.
“Um…” Zain tilted his head as he tried to say nicely, “I mean… Desmond isn’t lying. Aquila is probably the most beautiful eagle in all of Alamut.”
Aquila turned to stare at Zain for a moment before turning to stare at Rahim and Rahim swore the freaking bird just smirked at him.
But he wasn’t going to say anything about that.
“Well, he’s clearly more beautiful than Bennu,” Amir commented lightly and froze when they heard the flapping of wings that slowly got louder as a very familiar eagle flew towards them, landing on the wooden railings of the training ring.
Bennu stared at Amir just long enough for Amir to wince before turning to stare at Aquila who ignored him, enjoying Desmond’s petting.
Bennu let out an annoyed cry and Aquila simply turned to stare at him with a look that, the recruits would swear to their dying breaths, looked like an unimpressed ‘oh, you’ expression.
On an eagle.
Bennu made the same sound once more and if eagles could roll their eyes… Aquila would have done it. Instead, Aquila let out a chirping sound that impressively sounded quite deadpan before he turned to tug on Desmond’s hair using his beak. Desmond chuckled and scratched his neck briefly as he said, “Alright, alright. Go bring back a hare or something, alright?”
Aquila let out an enthusiastic chirp before flying off of Desmond’s arm, completely ignoring Bennu. Bennu made a rumbling-like sound as he shook his head while Desmond shouted at Aquila as he continued to fly away, “No lizards, okay?!”
Aquila made a different chirping sound that made Desmond chuckle before turning to look at Bennu. He grinned as he placed his hands on his waist and said, “He’ll be fine.”
Bennu simply shook his head and stayed at the railings, making all the recruits feel a bit awkward. Peredur leaned towards Meekhal to whisper, “You think the mentor’s watching us right now?”
Peredur straightened when Bennu turned his eyes towards him and simply stared.
Desmond sighed and walked towards the large eagle, lightly tapping him between the eyes as he said, “Hey, cut it out. You’re making them jumpy.”
Bennu shook his head, most probably to shake off Desmond’s tap before he stared at Desmond. Desmond simply raised an eyebrow and Bennu let out a sound that could have been the eagle equivalent of a sigh and hop around so his back would be facing the recruits.
As if finally giving them mercy, Oded finally walked into the training ring, seemingly coming from the direction of the shadow’s tower.
Together with Khalid and Rawiya.
Huh.
Perhaps a sparring session then?
Both of them stood behind Oded and copied the recruits, placing their hands behind their backs.
Oded stared at the recruits for a brief moment before stating, “You will all be spending the rest of your day…”
Yup.
At this point, after months of training, Desmond was certain Oded secretly had a thing for the dramatics and was hiding it with his usual stern expression.
“Preparing for the initiation rites.”
Wait.
What?
From the glances the recruits shared with one another, it was clear no one had any idea that they were going to be initiated right now.
Hell, it was only November.
Desmond had been betting that their initiations would be around December to February.
Not freaking November.
“You already know the words we will say and what will happen during your initiation.” Oded stated and Desmond saw the way Meekhal gulped and Peredur nodded with a determined expression on his face to hide his worry.
Not that Desmond blamed them.
Hell.
Even Amir froze for a brief moment when Oded talked about what would happen during the initiation.
Desmond… only had vague memories of Altaïr’s initiation though.
He knew the initiation was held in Masyaf’s training ring and they cut it off with a sharp knife that had been left in burning coals to heat it.
There was pain and…
That was it.
“As such, you will do the traditional pre-initiation ritual we here in Alamut have practiced since before we were called Assassins.”
There was another pause and Desmond didn’t really like the whole pausing for dramatic effect because it was just getting annoy-
“The last two batches to be initiated will hunt you down until sunset. All the other Assassins currently here in Alamut will also hunt all of you down if they see you.”
Desmond blinked.
What.
“Each of you will keep your hoods on. If an Assassin manages to pull your hood off, that means you have been captured.”
What.
“This is not a competition. Being caught will not stop you from being initiated once the sun sets. However…” Oded stared at Desmond as he continued, “Alamut has never had a batch where all recruits remained ‘free’ until sunset.”
“And I have complete confidence that this batch will be the first to do such a feat.”
Notes:
Aquila is based on the Booted Eagle which is native in Iran according to wikipedia.
What fledglings and eaglets could do in certain ages is based on this webpage.
Chapter 26
Notes:
For those who enjoyed the outsider’s POV last time, you guys are in for a treat. Also, this chapter feels a bit disjointed as this is set in the POVs of the Assassins in Alamut, not Desmond’s or his batch… to add a bit of mystery to Desmond and the recruits’ plan to survive till sundown. XD
UPDATE (7/31/23): Edited out a mistake as pointed by Peruna concerning the use of another name (keeping it vague 'cause it might count as a spoiler? Sorta?). Thank you, Peruna!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Greetings, my fellow shadow dwellers!”
The scholars and Assassins of the fourth floor of the scholar's tower turned to the direction of the window that a lone recruit had used to climb inside. Peredur’s grin was wide as he said dramatically, “Gentlemen, as you may have heard, traditions dictate that we who have yet to be gifted with our own blades are now being chased until the sun finally sets. We have been given a boon! Until those who have been destined to chase us have counted to fifty, they will not move from the ring upon which we have learned so much!”
The scholars stopped looking surprised and annoyed. They were now simply staring at Peredur with varying expressions of confusion and curiosity as the young recruit continued, “Now, many would say these precious fifty counts should be used to hide our presence and pray! But I am no coward! I will neither run nor hide. Today, you will all know my name!”
The Assassins who had simply been reading closed their books and placed them back on the bookshelves or placed them on the table in front of them. Those who had been relaxing on chairs slowly stood and they began to walk towards Peredur.
All five Assassins walked toward Peredur at a relaxed pace. They stopped when they had surrounded Peredur in a half-circle formation with Peredur’s back against the window that he had come from. The one in the middle crossed his arms as he asked in a slightly tired tone, “You know that the only Assassins that are tasked of chasing you are the last two batches, right? The rules are we are only required to chase you if we see you.”
“I am aware of the mechanics of which this tradition adheres to!” Peredur dramatically shouted and placed his left hand on his chest as he announced, “And I am here to declare that I will welcome every and all who dare pursue me!”
“Why is he talking like that?” One of the other Assassins whispered.
“Hey, Yahya, aren’t you the one who taught him our language?” The Assassin next to the one in the middle whispered as he stared at the Assassin that had been talking to Peredur.
Yahya sighed once more and rubbed his face with a tired expression on his face before he raised his head to look at Peredur as he dryly said, “Alright, Peredur. We all know you don’t usually speak that way.”
He placed his right hand on his waist as he asked, “You’re a distraction, aren’t you?”
All four Assassins immediately turned around just as Desmond, Zain, Hamaal, and Rahim were creeping up behind them.
“Plan B!” Desmond shouted and all four raised their closed right hand as if to deliver a right hook. The Assassins all raised their arms to block their attack but it wasn’t a punch that they had to look out for.
All four opened their right hand and threw sand at the Assassins’ faces. Surprised by the underhanded tactic, the Assassins involuntarily stepped back, giving all four the chance to jump them. They began to tie the Assassins up while Yahya rushed towards Peredur, making Peredur go, “Oh shit!”
“You should always be ready, Peredur!” Yahya shouted as Peredur rushed towards the nearest bookcase, “Did you think I would go after Desmond once they all take down the others?!”
“Yeah, we did!” Peredur shouted back just as Yahya reached him. He quickly grabbed the first book he could get his hands on and turned to face Yahya as he shouted, “Wait, wait, wait!”
Peredur used the book to smack Yahya’s hand before he could grab Peredur’s hood and Yahya stopped when Peredur shouted, “Stop! This is a precious, priceless one of a kind book and I am not afraid to use it to hit you!”
Peredur raised the book menacingly at the same height as his face as he dared, “You wouldn’t want to be known as the Assassin that let a recruit, an old student of his no less, destroy a priceless vessel of knowledge, right?!”
Yahya glared at Peredur as he warned, “Don’t do it, Peredur. The scholars will kill us both.”
“Um…” One of the scholars who had been watching the entire thing raised his hand slightly as he corrected, “That’s actually one of the five copies we copied from the original. Masyaf took the original.”
Both Peredur and Yahya stared at the helpful scholar for a moment before they both turned to face one another. Peredur tilted his head as he said, “Huh.”
“Think fast!” Peredur shouted as he threw the book at Yahya’s face. Yahya caught it effortlessly and even managed to catch the next book Peredur threw, making the same scholar shout, “Okay, that one is actually an origin-!”
The poor scholar’s shout didn’t even register as Rahim had jumped the Assassin from behind and he and Peredur quickly overpowered the Assassin and tied him up as well while Desmond and the others were cleaning Khalid’s table and drawers. The eyes of the tied up Assassins widened when Desmond was able to open the locked drawers after putting two slim pieces of metal and seemingly turning and twisting them a bit. The recruits put everything Desmond gave them into different pouches. Once it became clear that they had taken everything they could fit in all the pouches they had, Desmond went towards the window and whistled loudly.
Their most promising recruit’s eagle let out a cry as it flew to the wall that the window was facing. The Assassins and recruits heard the same whistle that Desmond had made coming from the scaffolding in front of the wall. Desmond took off the tool he called a rope dart from his belt and began to twirl his wrist around, making the rope dart with its sharp end begin to swing in circles. The swings began to become faster and faster until Desmond threw it out of the window. There was just enough momentum for the sharp end to hit the wall but it barely pierced the scaffolding. A curious scholar leaned closer and no one stopped him so he saw Amir step out from the shadows of the beam supporting the top portion of the scaffolding. He grabbed the rope dart and slammed it into the beam before returning to the shadows of the beam. Desmond tugged the rope hard. Then tugged it two more times just to be sure before he tied the end of the rope to the pillar near the window.
He turned to face his other recruits and ordered, “Let’s go.”
“I’m sorry for this, Yahya, please don’t chase us,” Peredur whispered with an apologetic grin and Yahya just grunted, watching as the recruits took off the fabric around their neck that every Assassin in Alamut used to cover the bottom half of their face. There was a certain giddiness to their movements and Desmond patted Rahim’s back first. Rahim looped the fabric over the rope and used the wall under the window to push himself off.
Rahim made a surprised sound that he quickly silenced.
Zain let out a squeak that disappeared soon enough.
Peredur absolutely hollered which only made his past instructor sigh.
And Desmond turned to look at them as he nodded, “Tell Khalid we’re taking all this for the whole blood bomb incident.”
Then he slipped out of the window and quickly went to the scaffolding using their makeshift ropeway.
So silent that the Assassins wouldn’t have believed he had already left had they not been looking directly at him.
“Is that what he said?”
“You don’t seem too worried,” Yahya noted as he watched Khalid look over his table to check what the recruits had taken. He crossed his arms as he asked, “Any idea what they plan to make with what they got?”
“Honestly?” Khalid grinned as he admitted, “No idea.”
The two Assassins assigned to Khalid’s team (who were older than him and were part of his batch) simply sighed while Yahya and the other Assassins that had been stationed on the fourth floor today to make sure no one stole any of the dangerous materials Khalid had on his table and in his drawers simply shook their heads.
Everyone in Alamut was already used to Khalid’s laid-back attitude.
“I know you’re close to Desmond and some of the recruits but…”
“Oh, I’m not trying to help Desmond or the others.” Khalid cut off the Assassin that was assigned to be his teammate for this ‘game’ calmly. He grinned as he admitted without any hint of shame or embarrassment, “I truly don’t know what Desmond plans to do with the materials he took.”
Khalid rubbed his chin as he added, “But they didn’t take any of the poisonous materials I have in stock. Mainly the ceramic casing, gunpowder-”
“Gunpowder?”
“That’s what Desmond calls the huoyao ,” Khalid explained.
“Huh. Gunpowder…” The Assassin repeated, “Gunpowder… gunpowder…”
“Please stop repeating it.” The other Assassin requested with a sigh before turning to look at Khalid as he asked, “Then do you have any ideas where they could be right now?”
“They would need a quiet and safe place to prepare whatever Desmond wants to use those materials for.” Khalid guessed before suggesting, “We should check the town, especially the houses of the recruits who have family there. It’s risky but they might think it would be worth the risk to hide there.”
Khalid turned to one of the Assassins and ordered, “Go tell the other teams. Tell them they need to be careful. Desmond would need time to prepare whatever he’s making but it would be safer to proceed with the idea that they already have it and it’s ready to be used.”
“Got it.” The Assassin nodded before briskly walking out of the main floor and descending the stairs.
Khalid turned to look at Yahya and the other Assassins who had been bound by the recruits. He gave them an easy grin as he asked, “So… you guys gave them the chance to take you all down, huh?”
“Peredur wouldn’t have given it away if he had not made such a dramatic show,” Yahya said tiredly.
“But you still played along.” Khalid reminded him before glancing at the other Assassins, “All of you played along.”
The Assassin currently sitting on one of the desks and reading the book that Peredur threw at Yahya chuckled before answering, “Well, it was a good plan. We all agreed to let it play out for a bit.”
“Didn’t expect to get hit by sand from the training ring though.”
“They’re creative, that’s for sure.”
“Also, we were all curious about how long Peredur could talk in that weird way he was speaking.”
The four Assassins and some of the scholars chuckled as Khalid raised an eyebrow at Yahya.
“This tradition is not meant to destroy the recruits’ morale. It’s meant to train them on how to think on their feet, especially when they’re being hunted down and chased.” Yahya paused as he said, “Also, it’s supposed to distract them from any fear they may have concerning the initiation rites tonight.”
Khalid hummed and paused for a moment before he asked, “But you guys are still going to join the hunt, right?”
“We’re just waiting for our replacements.” Yahya’s lips curved into a smirk, “We have a score to settle with those brats.”
“I honestly don’t think Desmond would pick any of the recruits’ homes,” Rawiya commented as he rubbed the back of his neck. He and the two older Assassins that were part of his batch had just reached the rooftops of the house on the right of Rahim’s home that he shared with his sister. Among the recruits, Rahim, Amir, and Zain were the only ones who had family in town. Among the three, only Rahim always went home every day. It was common practice for the recruits to stay in the Shadow’s Tower during the entire period of their training but many recruits were excused from that practice. Honestly, if the recruits wished to stay at their home and they only had one living family member or they had an old family member or someone sickly or needed help regularly, the Brotherhood didn’t force them to stay in the tower.
There were other teams already checking Zain’s and Amir’s homes. Older Assassins mostly since they would have to talk to old Assassin families.
Rawiya and his team were assigned to Rahim’s home.
“We still need to make sure we leave no stones undone.”
“I think the proper word is unturned?”
“It’s unturned.” Rawiya stated, knowing they heard that specific phrase from Desmond, before he ordered so they wouldn’t get sidetracked, “I’ll knock on the door. You two keep a lookout if they try to run from the backdoor or from one of the windows.”
“Got it.” The Assassins nodded at him before one of them reminded him, “Be careful, kid. Approach as if they have an unknown weapon or tool in their possession.”
“I remember,” Rawiya replied before jumping off the rooftop and landing on one knee. He quickly got up and walked towards Rahim’s home. He knocked on the door and waited for a few seconds before Rahim’s sister opened the door.
With her face hidden by a niqab, all Rawiya could see were her eyes. He nodded respectfully at Rahim’s sister (whose name he did not actually know), “Hello. My name is Rawiya and you must have heard that today is the day your brother will be initiated.”
His sister remained quiet but her eyes twitched at the word ‘initiated’ which Rawiya could understand. The whole cutting off the ring finger business always made a lot of people squeamish, not just women.
Hell.
Rawiya saw one of his fellow batchmates actually faint at the sight of his newly chopped-off finger.
He was sure that one was mostly doing information-gathering missions right now.
“We’re currently chasing your brother and his friends-” Her right eye twitched once more and Rawiya assumed Rahim had talked about his ‘sorta-friendship-sorta-rivalry-we’re-not-talking-about-it’ relationship with Peredur so he just continued, “… as part of the traditions of the Brotherhood. Nothing serious or dangerous… more like a game.”
She snorted softly.
Rawiya stared at her as she cleared her throat.
They both stared at each other for a second before Rawiya said, “Rahim…”
“Yeah…” Rahim’s voice came out from the person Rawiya thought was his sister.
“Where’s your sister?” Rawiya asked in a deadpan tone.
“She’s in the market. She said there’s a sale on fish right now but she should be back any minute now.”
Rawiya and Rahim stared at one another for another second before Rawiya sighed and turned around.
“I am going to count to five to give you a headstart.” Rawiya said, sighing once more as he added, “As punishment for me not realizing it’s actually you sooner.”
“… Thanks, I guess?” Rahim said in a slightly confused tone as he closed the door.
“One.” Rawiya started and he heard the loud sound coming from the right side of the home.
“Two.” Rawiya could count three sets of footsteps leaving the home.
“Three.” Rawiya heard one of his teammates shouts, most probably noticing the three recruits quickly climbing the building to the right side of Rahim’s home.
“Four.” Rawiya could hear the chase already beginning and he crossed his arms as he sighed, “Five.”
Rawiya quickly turned around and climbed the rooftop of Rahim’s home. He was about to join the chase when he heard a female voice shout at him from below, “Hey, you!”
Rawiya turned to face the direction where the voice had come from and…
She was wearing a hijab but Rawiya could see the similarities so he greeted politely, “Hello, Rahim’s sister.”
He winced, realizing how awkward it was to call her ‘Rahim’s sister’ but it wasn’t like he knew her actual name.
“Yes, hello, strange man standing on the roof of our home.” She greeted back and placed a hand on her waist while her other hand held a basket filled with fish and some vegetables, “Will my brother’s initiation take too long?”
“Uuuhh…” Rawiya thought about it for a bit before he answered, “No. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Glancing at the fishes, he added, “Although there’s going to be a bit of celebration in the dining hall afterward. He might already be too full to eat anything you might be planning to cook to celebrate his initiation?”
“Oh, this?” She glanced at her basket before turning to stare at Rawiya as she said, “I know he would want to celebrate with his friends. I’m planning to dry these. Desmond taught me a fantastic way to dry fish.”
“First you clean the fish and slice it open in a way that Desmond calls ‘butterflied’ and it does look like a butterfly, I suppose. Then you marinate it in vinegar and other spices of your choosing. I personally-”
“You’re trying to keep me here, aren’t you?” Rawiya asked dryly, making Rahim’s sister stare at him for a moment before smiling sweetly.
“Of course I am.” She admitted as she gave him a sweet smile without even a hint of shame, “You are chasing after my brother and betrothed after all.”
Rawiya sighed before bowing politely, “Well, it was nice talking to you. I’ll ask Desmond about the recipe. I think my father would like to try it out.”
“I hope you trip and get tangled in ropes.” She said sweetly.
Oh, yeah.
She was definitely Rahim’s sister alright.
Rawiya was on his way to where his Vision had shown where the golds were running towards, using the rooftops to quickly traverse the town below Alamut castle. Many of the townspeople shouted at him to give the kids some slack or told him good luck taking Desmond down which…
Yeah, fair.
Desmond had definitely endeared himself to the townspeople and, to be completely honest, he was sure the rumors of Desmond getting adopted came from the townspeople and not the castle itself.
No Assassin would be dumb enough to speak such a thing, knowing how the lack of an heir had been a sore subject for the mentor and his three wives for years now.
Especially after…
“Rawiya!”
Rawiya turned to look to his left but didn’t stop running as Khalid jumped from the rooftop of the butcher’s home, followed closely by his two teammates. Khalid ran next to Rawiya while his two teammates ran behind them as he said, “Heard your team’s chasing the recruits. Do we have confirmation that Desmond is with them?”
“Don’t know.” Rawiya answered as they both took a big leap due to the next rooftop being a bit further than usual, “I heard three sets of footsteps but I could only confirm Rahim.”
Khalid nodded before glancing at the sky, “Desmond’s eagle’s with them too.”
“Feels too easy, right?” Rawiya asked with a mirthless smile, “Desmond could be connected to his eagle right now, using it to spy from the sky while we chase three of the recruits.”
“Rawiya!” An Assassin shouted as he balanced over a pole the townspeople use to place tie ropes that could be used to hang things like cloth or products they want to sell, “We’re sure one of them is Zain! He’s too short to be Desmond!”
“Got it!” Rawiya shouted back as they passed by him before suggesting to Khalid, “The last one’s probably Hamaal.”
“The three fastest recruits other than Desmond.” Khalid nodded, “Yeah, they’re the best decoys to lead us on a merry chase while Desmond prepares whatever he’s making with the materials he got from my stock.”
“Should we stop chasing them?” Rawiya asked, letting Khalid take control of their ‘mission’ since he was of an older batch and had a more tactical mind than Rawiya.
Rawiya did prefer to be pointed to the target and be done with it, anyway.
“No. Even if they’re decoys, we can still pull down their hoods.” Khalid said before turning to look at the two Assassins behind him, “Talk to the other teams. Tell them we’ll keep chasing the recruits and herd them to the marketplace but keep an eye out for Desmond and the others. They’ll try to lead us to a trap too.”
“Got it!” The Assassins ran in opposite directions while Rawiya frowned at Khalid.
“The marketplace’s the most crowded area in town.” Rawiya paused before adding, “Especially since they have a sale on fish today.”
“They do?” Khalid asked, confusion laced in his tone and clear on his expression to the random bit of information Rawiya just told him before shaking his head. They were nearing the main gates already as Khalid explained, “Desmond won’t risk using any bombs he makes if we stay in crowded areas. He’s too nice to accept collateral damage.”
Rawiya sighed as he added, “You should be too.”
Khalid grinned as he said vaguely, “Better to have a fall guy for that kind of thing.”
“Wha-”
Rawiya and Khalid’s conversation halted when a part of a roof opened and Rawiya recognized it as the secret exit their house had.
Desmond jumped out of the hatch and shouted, “Close your eyes!”
Rawiya and Khalid automatically closed their eyes and they heard the sounds of two ceramics shattering, one close to them and the other was nearer to the position where the Assassins chasing the three recruits were.
They began to sneeze as they breathed in some kind of smoke and one of the Assassins that had been close to chasing them shouted, “Fall back! Get out of the-”
The rest of the order devolved into sneezing and Rawiya heard his father shout, “Come down, son!”
Rawiya blindly grabbed Khalid, gripping the belt of his shoulder harness, and dragged him down to the ground.
They continued to cough but the gas seemed to have not reached the lower area.
No.
“That’s clever.” Khalid sneezed once more as he rubbed his eyes. They stayed on their knees as Rawiya continued to sneeze and Khalid rubbed his nose, muffling his words slightly, “Making us chase them on the rooftops to make sure most of us were up there.”
The admiration was clear in Khalid’s voice as he continued, “And no civilians would get hit since the smoke is up there.”
Whatever seriousness his words held came to a halt because he sneezed once more.
“Why are we sneezing so much?” Rawiya complained as he rubbed his nose furiously in the hopes to stop the sneezing.
“It’s the peperi I got from a Muchiri merchant.” Khalid explained as they slowly got up, “I was only planning to use it as some kind of filler on the bomb…”
Khalid raised his head to the already dissipating smoke above them, “He probably used all my stock just to fill up those two nonlethal bombs.”
“You boys alright?” Rawiya’s father asked as they walked toward Rawiya’s home.
Rawiya spluttered at his smiling father, “Father! Were you harboring the recruits in our house?!”
“I don’t know what you mean.” His father gave him an innocent face that no one believed at all, “I'm just an old man having tea with my son’s friend. It’s just part of our conversation that he showed me how to make black smoke bombs.”
His father’s loud laughter only made Rawiya groan.
“Khalid! Rawiya!” An Assassin by the main gates shouted.
Rawiya sighed as he said in a softer tone, “I have to go chase them, father. Please, don’t try to close the roof hatch, alright? I’ll come back and close it later or you can wait for-”
“I can close the hatch.” His father scoffed, “I’m not that old yet.”
“You have a bad leg!” Rawiya reminded him, earning another scoff but, this time, with a rolling of eyes, “Father, please!”
Knowing that Rawiya would be stuck here until he finally realized that he should just close the hatch right now, Khalid just walked away.
It was better to let Rawiya realize what he had to do by himself. He tended to get embarrassed and feel bad whenever someone said something that he would think he should have realized sooner.
Once Khalid reached the main gates, he blinked when he could barely see all of the recruits on horses, galloping out of Alamut.
He stared for a moment, barely hearing the sound of wolves howling as the wolves in the nearby forest ran at the end of the forest as if to watch the recruits gallop past their territory.
Then he laughed.
“We’re preparing the horses now. They took the emergency horses we had in the stables so it’ll take a few minutes…” The Assassin explained although he looked a bit confused as to why Khalid was laughing right now, “The recruits stationed in the main gates today didn’t stop them-”
“We’re not Assassins yet! We’re not part of this game!” Markos shouted as the rest of his batch snickered.
“It’s not a game, it’s a long-honored tradition!” The Assassin shouted back before he continued to explain to the still laughing Khalid, “It seems that the florist’s son had been working as the stableboy today and he helped Amir, Meekhal, and Peredur prepare supplies for the horses once Peredur told him Desmond would be grateful if he helped.”
That only made Khalid laugh harder, remembering the florist’s son’s little crush on Desmond.
This time, the Assassin just sighed as he continued, “With those supplies, they can even camp out tonight but, once we get the horses ready, we’ll chase them. They’re going to go west-”
“There’s no need.”
The Assassin and Khalid stopped and turned to face the main gates. Oded walked towards them as the mentor’s eagle flew above him, landing on the roof of the stables. Oded stood next to Khalid as he said, “The mentor agrees. We will prepare the horses just in case we might need them but the recruits will be left alone.”
“But…”
The mentor’s eagle cried out as he glared at the Assassin.
“The recruits found a loophole in the rules. We never did say they had to remain in Alamut.” Oded stated, “Let us reward the ingenuity of the young.”
“That…” Oded turned to face the glowing golden eyes of the eagle as he said, “… is the mentor’s wish.”
The eagle let out another cry as if to agree with Oded’s words.
And the Assassins of Alamut simply watched as Desmond’s eagle flew above them, leaving Alamut to join up with his partner.
Notes:
I used the word ropeways for ziplines in this chapter because the people in the 12th century wouldn’t know what zipline means. Ropeways (the sorta ancestors of ziplines) have been available since 250 BC so they would probably know about it.
The recipe that Rahim’s sister was talking about is based on this because of how expensive salt would be around this century, this is a type of dried fish that does not require salt (although Rahim’s sister would use spices available in Alamut as seasoning)
There are records of black pepper being traded to Levant and the Middle East from Muchiri.
Chapter 27
Notes:
Okay, so before anything, here’s a head’s up!
August MegaPosting Birthday Celebration (I don’t remember what I called it last time) will officially start next week. Eagle of Alamut will be updated on the following instead of the usual Monday posting:
Aug 8 (Tuesday), Aug 12 (Saturday), Aug 16 (Wednesday), Aug 26 (Saturday), and Aug 28 (Monday)
For more information (sorta), here’s the Tumblr post that summarizes what will be posted for each date above.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The plan had been simple.
… ish.
It was tradition to give the recruits fifty minutes to do whatever they wanted before the last two batches to be initiated would start to chase them and every Assassin divided into groups of three which was how the Assassins in Alamut usually operated during missions.
From what Desmond could remember, the Brotherhood in Masyaf rarely sent Assassins in groups of three. They usually only operate in such ‘high’ numbers when it was for a dangerous and/or important mission (like… well, the one that will happen in Jerusalem a decade from now).
From Raiza’s history lessons, it seemed that Alamut had done the same before but, after the crusades started and Masyaf became the beacon of every enemy the Brotherhood had, the Assassins here in Alamut decided during the reign of Diya al-Dīn’s father to adopt the usual three-man group for patrols and missions. They only sent an Assassin on his own when even a small team would be too noticeable and, even then, that Assassin would usually still have 2 other Assassins providing support from afar.
It erred on the side of caution and Raiza had admitted that it made informants more important to them than ever as they had to rely on them to continue giving them information and rumors as they could no longer post Assassins in Masyaf as most Assassins from Alamut had to focus on keeping an eye on the situation in neighboring kingdoms.
A problem that wouldn’t exist if Rashid and Diya al-Dīn (and Diya al-Dīn’s father before him) had honored the real reason why Rashid had left to set up a headquarters in Masyaf: to create a more stable route to exchange information between Alamut and the area around Masyaf, especially the kingdoms and cities currently affected by the crusades.
Of course, all that was left were summaries of the monthly reports that Alamut had to get themselves and Raiza had shown Desmond what Rashid had sent last month.
It…
Well…
Desmond was sure traveling merchants gave them more information than the sorry excuse of a summary Rashid had given, even if they couldn’t verify the information. Then again, Desmond knew Diya al-Dīn and the mentors knew they couldn’t verify the information that Rashid had given as well.
So yeah. The traveling merchants who would usually come to Alamut every two to three months?
They were actually informants who would sell their information to the Brotherhood for an absurd amount that made Desmond’s eyes widen when he had accompanied Khalid once to buy the information (and a few materials they could use for their ongoing ‘let’s find the powder that would give us red smoke because it’s fun and we’re stubborn’ side project). It was all done under the table, usually with the merchant giving Khalid (or whichever Assassin would buy from the merchant) a supposed product for him to look at and the amount would either be carved on the product if it was made of wood or a small paper with the amount will be inside or slipped between them when the Assassin would take the product.
Then Khalid would buy whatever it was he was meant to buy and just hand over an entire pouch of too much money that Desmond felt the need to look around just to make sure no one saw them at the same time the merchant would hand him the things he actually bought, a sleight of hand done with lots of items to more easily make it less noticeable just how heavy the pouch Khalid had given was. In one of the bags or sacks he would hand to Khalid would be the actual pages of information the Brotherhood had bought.
Again, information Alamut should have received for free from Rashid.
It was the most stressful ‘field trip’ Desmond had with one of the Assassins ordered by the mentors (who they still believed to be Diya al-Dīn) or Oded.
Still, the informants were also more than happy to talk about things they saw on their way to Alamut for free. Well, they also knew Desmond tended to buy a trinket or two and a lot of the traveling merchants (including the ones who weren’t actually informants) would all show Desmond their new items and even talk about what they believed Desmond would like (which usually turned out to be small trinkets of animal carvings and such and maybe dry meat for Aquila… but Aquila liked a specific ‘taste’ for his dry meat and would just stare at Desmond with disappointment in his eyes if Desmond even dared to give him ‘inferior’ products). Desmond liked to ask how their trip went and they would tell him how it went, giving him an idea of the surrounding areas around Alamut.
Which was why Desmond knew there was a herd of goats between a two-hour ride from Alamut and nearby ruins that traveling merchants would use to relax for a bit and let the horses rest.
That was what made Desmond plan for them to leave Alamut and stay nearby until sundown.
Oded never did say it was against the rules and Desmond bet the mentors, especially Dvora, would get a kick out of it.
So yeah. He was hoping on the mentors’ good graces and Oded’s habit of letting them off easy when they were being creative to not disqualify them for thinking ‘outside the box’.
Of course, he knew there was a chance that the Assassins would chase after them by horseback as well but the ruins Desmond heard about were supposedly maze-like so it should give them a bit of advantage to stay there anyway.
The hunt for the wild goats went on without any real problem and, by this time, Desmond was sure they should have already seen the Assassins if they were chasing them by horseback.
The fact that he didn’t see anyone could only mean that the Assassins had decided not to pursue them.
He connected with Aquila while the others hauled their kills onto their horses, one goat per horse. He could only connect with his eagle for a minute (which was embarrassing considering he held the longest record of Eagle Vision among their batch) but it was enough time to fly Aquila back in the direction of Alamut Castle and check if there were any Assassins in horseback rushing to their location.
There were no signs at all.
Which meant Desmond’s gamble paid off and they were in the clear.
Regardless, everyone agreed that they should still play it safe and go to the ruins as planned. Desmond couldn’t fault them.
He was sure the Assassins in charge of chasing them wouldn’t pass the chance to sneak at them while congratulating them as they pull down their hoods if they were to enter the castle before sundown. They’d laugh and remind the recruits to never let their guard down and…
Yeah.
Desmond could definitely see them doing that.
It might seem a bit mean to many but Alamut had always prioritized caution above all else.
Hell, the mentors isolating themselves in the harem and never showing their faces were examples of how extreme Alamut could be when it came to being cautious.
“So, how does it feel knowing you’ll be the youngest recruit to ever be initiated?”
Hamaal’s casual question stopped Desmond’s mind from wandering even further. He blinked and looked away from the campfire where they were grilling chopped goat meats (seasoned with some of the colorful seasonings they stole from Khalid that Desmond knew was used for cooking as well) to look at Hamaal. The rest of them were sitting around the fire while Amir and Peredur scouted their surroundings one last time.
The ruins were just as the traveling merchants described to Desmond, a bit out of the way of the normal roads but the ground around it was flat enough that the horses didn’t have any problems. It seemed to have been some sort of village before but, if one of the older merchants were to be believed, there had been a long drought around the area that made it impossible for crops to live so the villagers either left or died.
It was definitely a tragic tale and Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if the story had been exaggerated considering the merchant who told him the ‘origin’ of the ruins started the story with an ‘I heard this from my grandfather who heard it from one of older merchants of his time who heard it from one of the survivors…’
Especially since the soil wasn’t dry or cracked at all.
Then again, it would have been decades since the ruins had their last villager…
“Desmond?”
Desmond blinked, realizing that a few seconds must have passed and he still haven’t answered Hamaal. He cleared his throat and used a short stick to make the fire crackle as he said, “Sorry. I was thinking about the ruins.”
“Anyway…” Desmond tilted his head as he asked back, “What are you talking about? Zain is obviously younger than me.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Desmond. Desmond frowned as he asked, “What?”
Rahim rubbed his chin as he asked, “You’re taller than all of us which we always assumed was because you came from Leicestershire but… you’re sixteen, right?”
“Yeah…?”
“Um…” Zain, who had been sitting next to Desmond, pointed at himself as he said quietly, “I’m eighteen.”
Desmond’s head turned to look at Zain quickly with eyes wide.
He was what?
But…
But…
Desmond placed a hand on top of Zain’s head.
He was so small!
He barely reached Desmond’s shoulder at all!
A muffled snicker left Hamaal’s lips before he couldn’t stop himself. His attempts to muffle his laughter only lasted for a second before he began to laugh out in the open, stopping when Rahim smacked his arm, only to look at Desmond who was still staring at Zain with wide eyes and a hand on the top of Zain’s head and he lost it once more.
“What’s happening? Why’s Hamaal trying to laugh himself to death?” Peredur asked as he and Amir walked back to their camp.
“Desmond thought Zain was younger than him.” Rahim replied with a sigh, “Well, that’s not surprising. The men in his family are all small and lithe. And they always looked young.”
Desmond remembered the scruffy-looking guards that were supposed to be Zain’s father and uncle before noticing Zain’s red cheeks. Desmond patted his head once, realized that was a bad move, and awkwardly drop his hand to pat Zain’s shoulder as he said, “Sorry, Zain. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Zain waved his hands in front of him as he said quickly, “Oh, no, it’s quite alright, Desmond, you have no reason to apologize!”
Zain blushed even deeper as he admitted, “I… I’m used to people thinking I’m younger than I look.”
“But I’m not worried!” Zain clenched his hands into fists as he continued, “My father looked young until he finally became the mentor’s official guard so we’re just late bloomers!”
That… might be the stress of guarding someone like Diya al-Dīn though.
“Is the food ready yet?” Meekhal asked as he kept his eyes on the grilling meat.
“Yeah, it should be good to go by now,” Desmond said as he patted Zain’s shoulder one last time. Desmond lowered his head to look at the fire once more and hummed. It was slightly on the charred side but that was the best kind of grilled food in Desmond’s opinion.
“Would you like to lead the du’a, Desmond?” Amir asked before Hamaal could take a stick. Hamaal looked at Amir and then at Desmond before lowering his hand instead.
“Uh… sure.” Desmond cleared his throat and he stood. Seeing the others stand as well, Desmond sent a silent thank you to Nur for drilling in his head every practice the different religions and their sects would have around here.
…
Was it considered blasphemous to thank someone else when he was supposed to start praying to a god?
Well… Desmond supposed he’d just have to ask Nur later.
Desmond threw the stick onto the fire once he was done with his lunch and leaned back, mindlessly staring at the sky where Aquila was now circling around. Once Aquila knew for certain that he wasn’t going to get any more food, he had flown away from Desmond’s side.
The eagle began to fly in place, body trained east of them. Desmond’s lips curved into an amused smile when Aquila began to fly eastward at such a high speed it was clear that he had found new prey.
Remembering the other namesake that his eagle had, Desmond commented, “We should have fake names.”
“What do you mean?” Zain asked curiously, being the closest to Desmond so he was able to hear him more clearly than the rest.
The others turned their focus on him, except Meekhal who was more focused on savoring his food with such a happy expression Desmond felt a desire to cook more food using the spices they stole from Khalid.
Not that he was saying that the kitchens didn’t make delicious food. Honestly, they made the most delicious food Desmond ever had, Desmond Miles’ mainly pizza-and-Chinese diet included.
But Desmond understood that eating the same stuff, even if they change the menu every day, would make any food seem… less than it truly was.
So, yeah, Desmond got it.
“I mean…” Desmond used the long stick next to him to push a log further into the fire, making the fire crackle while providing more fuel to keep it going, “We all hide our faces using these, right?”
Desmond hooked his point finger to the fabric around his neck and pulled it slightly to make it more visible. Once he knew he had made his point, he let go and dropped his hand as he continued, “But doesn’t calling each other by our real names kinda defeat the purpose?”
“You have a point.” Amir agreed as he threw his own stick into the fire, “We are trained to remain quiet and to use hand signals during missions but, well, it’s different when things get chaotic in the field.”
“If our enemies know our real name, they can look for us easier.” Desmond reminded them.
Of course, he had a more selfish reason to suggest this. Masyaf definitely knew about him already but Khalid made sure not to actually describe him and the Assassin robes he would have even as a recruit would make it nearly impossible for the Assassins in Masyaf or any spies Rashid may have to find him easily.
But all that advantage would easily be stripped away the moment one of the recruits call him by his name.
“So let’s decide on our fake names right now.” Hamaal suggested as he lay down, “So we can start getting used to it sooner.”
“I think it would be more accurate to call it codenames instead of fake names.” Desmond rubbed his cheek with his point finger as he mused, “Although I guess codenames are a kind of fake name anyway.”
“What codename would you like to have, Desmond?” Zain asked with a tilt of his head.
“Hhhmmm.” Desmond hummed as he thought about it.
He actually didn’t think that far ahead, to be perfectly honest.
“Hytham?” Amir suggested.
“Absolutely not.” Desmond immediately rejected that one. Sure, the name had a nice meaning to it but, well, using a name so close to Haytham was just asking for trouble.
“How about ‘Vega’?” Meekhal suggested, making Peredur and Zain look at him in exasperation.
“Vega?” Desmond repeated, tilting his head.
“It’s the name of the brightest star of the Greek’s Lyra constellation!” Peredur explained before Meekhal could say anything about how Meekhal had been pushing for Vega as the name of the main protagonist of his ongoing magnum opus, mainly because of the similarities between Desmond and Altaïr which was Vega’s ‘counterpart’.
If Altaïr came from the term Al Nesr Al Taïr which meant flying or soaring eagle…
“It comes from the term Al Nesr Al Waki which means-”
“Falling eagle…” Desmond said, lips curving into a small smile.
“Or vultu-” Rahim’s comment was cut off by Peredur elbowing him and he glared at him. Seeing the warning glare coming not just from Peredur but from Zain and Meekhal as well, Rahim looked at them in confusion but smartly kept quiet.
“I like it.” Desmond mused with a little sad smile on his face, “Falling eagle…”
“That sounds like it describes my life before coming here perfectly well.”
All the other recruits looked at one another and, realizing that, yes, this was definitely not a good subject to dwell on, Peredur announced, “Then it’s decided! We’ll have names based on stars!”
“I’ll be Sirius!” Peredur announced.
“Isn’t that the brightest star?” Rahim remembered.
“Of course!” Peredur grinned as he said, “Who else should get it but the one who’s going to shine the brightest among us?”
“Oh, come on!” Rahim complained as he pushed Peredur’s back, forcing the recruit to stand and take a few steps forward.
The other recruits began to laugh as Peredur rushed Rahim and put him in a headlock, the two recruits going at it on the dirt in a playful scuffle that they would have never done months ago.
Desmond’s sad smile turned into a carefree one as he laughed with them.
Just to be safe, they began to travel back to Alamut just as the sun had begun to set and set out Aquila to scout ahead and check if no one was waiting to ambush them. From the amused expression on Khalid’s face and the relieved sigh Rawiya made when they saw Aquila land on the parapet of the main gates’ walls where the both of them seemed to have been waiting, Desmond took that as a sign that it was okay to return.
Well…
It was also a dead giveaway that Khalid actually talked to Aquila like he was just talking to Desmond, “You guys are late. Initiation was meant to start a bell toll ago.”
Desmond didn’t exactly plan it but Aquila let out a huffing cry at Khalid and he simply chuckled as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re being cautious as usual. Well, come home already. Everyone’s waiting.”
Aquila let out an excited cry and Desmond couldn’t help but agree to it.
Home…
Yeah.
That sounded great.
Chapter 28
Notes:
Warning: There’s description of the traditional finger amputation in this one. I tried not to be too descriptive about it but be careful nonetheless.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
They were welcomed back in Alamut with quite a lot of cheering.
And Desmond wasn’t entirely sure if the cheering was truly for them or for the meat they had brought back.
Each horse had the meat of the goats they had hunted and the recruits happily handed most of them to the townspeople.
Peredur had announced it was part of the celebration of their initiation.
The butcher had taken one from Peredur and exclaimed how the cut seemed less ‘beautiful’ than the ones he had gotten before from Desmond and the recruits had to admit that they had been the one to prepare the meat this time.
… with Desmond’s supervision, of course.
A lot of the townspeople were quite nice, telling the recruits that they had done a fine job for their first time.
Someone in the crowd even suggested that they made this part of the initiation moving forward.
Desmond did not like the thoughtful expression on Oded’s face as he stayed on the rooftops while keeping quiet.
After most of the meat has been given to the townspeople (with the recruits’ family getting the better cuts that they were able to do, of course), the recruits were led back to the castle by Khalid’s team while Rawiya and the other Assassins followed them from the rooftops.
When they got to the castle, the head chef rushed them and took the meat that Desmond prepared (the remaining meat from the goat he had prepared for their lunch and the meat of another goat he had used to show the recruits how to prepare the meat after lunch) and looked so giddy.
“Ohohohoho, I knew I made the right call waiting for you kids!” The chef (who Desmond heard had been an Assassin who had to retire due to a bad incident that left him with a limp) exclaimed as the recruits tasked with helping in the kitchen today took the bags of meat. The chef inspected one bag and nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, yes, yes. Still the best I’ve seen as ever, Desmond. And such fresh kills as well! Oh, yes.”
Desmond felt the need to back away just to get away from the gleaming eyes of the chef, already afraid that he would be asked to hunt regularly… again.
The chef already asked that of Desmond when he brought in wolf’s meat and then he had the same conversation when he, Rawiya, and Khalid brought meat back as well so, yeah, he didn’t want to have to go through that again.
Thankfully, Oded stepped forward, becoming a human shield between the chef and the recruits, “Alright, you have the meat, Ishaq. I’m sure the recruits and the other Assassins you have ‘commandeered’ to cook today are all getting restless without you to guide them.”
“Of course, of course.” Ishaq nodded and gave the recruits the biggest grin he had ever seen the older man make since he had been in Alamut, “You boys better be hungry because we’ll have the best celebratory feast in all of Alamut’s history!”
“I’m starving!” Meekhal shouted eagerly.
Peredur leaned towards Rahim as he whispered, “You think we’ll be eating leftovers for days after tonight?”
“You will be eating leftovers. I’ll be eating whatever my sister cooks.” Rahim corrected him before pausing for a moment. He glanced at Amir before he added, “Until Amir finally marries her, of course, then… I guess by that time the leftovers will be all gone.”
“All of you, this way.” Oded ordered in his usual calm tone, patting Ishaq’s shoulder twice as he passed him. The recruits followed Oded while the Assassins began to disperse, some like Rawiya and Khalid waving at them as they tell them that they’d attend the initiation later.
Later?
Desmond had assumed they would be initiated immediately after returning.
Instead, they were led to the Shadow’s Tower, to the room next to the armory on the first floor.
There, Assassin robes were folded and presented on a long table.
“This is the only room in all of Alamut where your final rankings will be shown,” Oded explained as the recruits entered the room. Oded stayed by the door as he continued to explain, “I am the only person who knows the exact ranking and the only one who had prepared this room, just as I have prepared every final ranking since I became the main instructor.”
The recruits turned to stare at Oded as he continued, “Whether you tell anyone what rank you had in the end or not is up to you. I will not say anything at all even if the mentor was to ask me.”
“Your ranking as recruits end today.” Oded stated, “Tomorrow, you will all be the same rank. Whether you continue to climb the ranks of the Brotherhood is up to you.”
“Once you have finished changing into your Assassin robes-” Oded ignored the giddy excitement a few of the recruits tried to hide, “Come to the second gate.”
The second gate?
Why?
“Don’t take too long.” Oded said in a gentler tone before closing the door, leaving the recruits alone in the room.
It was Rahim who moved first, taking a deep breath as he said, “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”
Rahim walked towards the left end of the table and grabbed the robes, frowning when he realized it looked too big to be his. He turned to look at Desmond as he said, “I guess the top of our batch is on the left side.”
None of them said anything, knowing silence would be the kindness that Rahim would only accept at this moment.
Rahim walked towards the right edge of the table and grabbed the robes there, frowning once more when he realized it was too big to be his.
“Oh! I think that’s mine!” Meekhal said cheerfully, walking towards the Rahim and taking the robes from him.
“Wait, but that would mean-” Rahim’s eyes widened.
“That Meekhal’s the top of our batch!” Peredur shouted all of a sudden, surprising everyone. They all turned to stare at Peredur as he said, “I mean, think about it! Oded never said how he ordered this. Is it lowest to highest from left to right or from right to left? AND Desmond has only been with us for a few months! He had a lot of things to catch up on and he had one-on-one studies every afternoon that we don’t know about! He could have been bombing those!”
“Wait, that doesn’t-” Rahim tried to say but was cut off once more.
“Peredur’s right!” Desmond agreed, realizing what Peredur was trying to do. He patted Peredur’s back as he grinned, “My instructors would agree when I tell you guys I’ve been having problems with my afternoon studies, that’s for damn sure. That could easily tank my ranking!”
“What does ‘tank’ even mea-”
“Oh shit!” Hamaal shouted as he quickly rushed to the table, grabbing the robes at random and mixing them all around as he dramatically shouted, “Oh no! I made such a mess!”
Rahim’s expression turned from resigned to confused to exasperated, “Hamaal, the belts underneath would give us an ide-”
“Aaahhh!” Zain pushed everything underneath the robes which included belts, pouches, gauntlets, and leather greaves to the side and Peredur quickly mixed them all around as Zain said in an obviously fake dramatic tone, “Oh no. I, um, tripped…?”
“Me too!” Peredur shouted, “Damn this floor is slippery!”
Rahim just stared at them and Amir stood next to him, ruffling his hair as he grinned, “Well, it seems like we won’t know what our final ranking now, huh?”
Rahim’s lips trembled and his eyes briefly widened when he saw the cheerful grin on Meekhal’s face, void of any disappointment or regret.
A soft chuckle left his lips as he said, “You’re all idiots.”
Rahim’s rubbed his eyes as he said, “We’ll be here for ages because of all your messes now.”
“I’m sure that’ll be okay.” Desmond said as he walked towards the table, grinning as he realized even his own robes and Meekhal’s other equipment have become part of the mess, “We’ll just have to help each other then.”
Desmond turned his grin at Rahim as he said, “Just like we’ve been doing for months now.”
Rahim chuckled as he whispered, “Yeah.”
“It’s how our batch rolls after all…”
“You all certainly took your time,” Oded said in lieu of greeting when they finally got to the second gate after it took them about an hour and a half just to get ready.
There had been an incident involving Hamaal and Peredur not being sure if they had the right leather gauntlets or if they had accidentally switched. Apparently, they had the same wrist and arm size.
Well… they were close enough that both gauntlets could be adjusted to fit them anyway.
The one who had no real problem had been Desmond, who was the tallest of them so he just got the longest ones and Meekhal who was the biggest of them so he got the biggest sizes.
Oh.
And, of course, Zain who was the smallest of them so all the smallest-sized equipment went to him.
Desmond was just glad they were still going to use the same pants and leather boots since he was sure Peredur, Hamaal, and Rahim had similar shoe sizes and that would have been chaotic all on its own.
“There was a bit of a… mix up,” Desmond said vaguely and Oded simply raised an eyebrow but did not ask Desmond to elaborate.
Instead, he nodded and turned around as he said, “Follow me then.”
The recruits followed Oded in the same formation they would always have whenever they were doing their morning jogs with Desmond taking the lead and only three feet behind Oded.
The gates opened and everyone’s eyes widened with Rahim even letting out a surprised “Sister?!”
On the other side of the gates were…
“The initiation is an important rite of passage for the Brotherhood, a secret we only share with those who had taken the same blade such as us.” Oded explained as he turned to face the recruits, “Yet, that does not mean this is not a celebration that you should not share with those you love and trust. They may not be able to join us in your initiation and so they are here to give you something that you can carry into the initiation as a part of them.”
“As you know… all of our robes are the same. Even if we rank up, the changes to our robes are only minuscule until we reach the rank of Master Assassin and Dai. This is by design.” Oded reminded them, “The sameness of our robes helps us blend in and hide our identity. However…”
Oded stepped to the side as he said, “That does not mean you cannot carry something that belongs to those you love with you. To remind you of the reason why you have taken the blade.”
The recruits stared at Oded, only moving when Oded’s lips curved into a small smile as he nodded at them.
They began to walk toward their families except for Desmond, Peredur, and Hamaal.
Desmond watched as Rahim tried to get away from his sister’s embrace while Amir’s parents stood nearby, laughing at their antics while Amir’s father clapped his back. Zain went to a woman who must be his mother, helping an old man with a missing finger as he took a few steps towards Zain, presenting a box that was about the right size for a small sword. Meekhal was greeted by lots of younger siblings and a tired-looking woman who hugged him.
“Well… this is a bit sad, right?” Peredur sighed.
“Could have had us just wait in the tower instead of watching this. Three little sad orphans and all that…” Hamaal commented in a light tone yet Desmond could hear the tightness in his voice that he tried to hide.
“Hey, Hamaal!” Rahim shouted, “Come here!”
Hamaal blinked.
“You didn’t think we’d forget about you, did you, boy?” Amir’s father chuckled and waved a box lightly, “We prepared you a gift too, of course!”
“Well…” Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile, “It seems you have a family of your own anyway.”
“I don’t…”
Desmond pushed Hamaal lightly as he whispered, “Go.”
Hamaal turned to look at the two of them and gave them an easy grin that Desmond was used to seeing from him, “Don’t think this cuts me out from the orphan trio, okay?”
“I thought we were calling ourselves the Speedster trio?” Desmond asked jokingly.
“Orphaned Speedster Trio.” Peredur announced seriously with a thumbs up.
Hamaal chuckled as he said, “That’s lame, Peredur.”
“But I kinda like it,” Hamaal admitted as his grin turned a bit softer. He turned around and waved at them once before jogging towards the others.
“Well, well, well…” Peredur said lightly as they stared at them, “Looks like it’s a pity party for you and me, Desmond.”
“You know I was expecting you to be all dramatic and loudly complaining. If I knew you would be all mopey and sad, I would have come out sooner.” A familiar voice commented with a sigh and they turned around, Peredur’s eyes widening as the Assassin who had been his instructor in understanding the language of this land and the same Assassin that he had hit with a book a few hours ago walked towards them.
“Yahya!”
“Here.” Yahya threw something at Peredur who easily caught it. It was a small book wrapped in some kind of leather, “That’s the best water-resistant leather we have here in Alamut. You novices should also have been given a pouch made of the same leather so put that there, won’t save it if you stay underwater for more than five minutes or so but, well, you should only swim when you’re out of options anyway.”
Peredur only gaped at him.
“It’s a book of common phrases you might hear when you’re away. Some places have different dialects and phrases so I compiled the most common ones from around here and in al-Sham… just in case.” Yahya continued casually as he stood in front of Peredur.
Peredur’s hands were trembling slightly as he unwrapped the leather, “Thanks, Yahya. I mean… I…”
“Just because you don’t have what they have doesn’t mean you don’t have a family, Peredur.” Yahya said gently, patting the young man’s shoulder as he said with a soft smile, “You’re part of the Brotherhood. That means we’re your family, alright?”
Peredur cleared his throat as he nodded, opening the small book and seeing Yahya’s handwriting as he whispered, “Yeah, I know that. I mean… I…”
Peredur paused for a moment before he raised his head to stare at Yahya, “Why is the first page just different phrases that mean ‘I’m going to kill you’ and ‘idiot’?”
Yahya’s soft smile turned into a mischievous grin as he teased, “I had a feeling you’d be hearing that a lot.”
“Oh, you asshole!”
Yahya laughed as Peredur punched his arm lightly and Desmond watched them with a small smile.
Desmond turned to face Oded as he wondered if Oded would be the one to give him something. Oded had been staring at him as well and he nudged his head to the left side, making Desmond turn back to look at the road leading to the castle, his eyes widening when he saw Diya al-Dīn walking towards them with his two guards. There were twin cries from above and Bennu landed on Diya al-Dīn’s shoulder while Aquila continued to circle around them.
Desmond walked to meet Diya al-Dīn and they stood a few feet away from the gates. Diya al-Dīn waved his hand once and his guards bowed before walking towards the gate, making Zain shout “Father! Uncle!” as they joined the other recruits and their families.
Aquila finally landed on Desmond’s shoulder and began to chirp at Bennu. When the chirping continued for an entire minute, Bennu let out a short screech and flapped one wing in Aquila’s direction as if to physically shut him up.
Aquila let out an offended squawk and turned to chirp at Desmond. Desmond chuckled and petted Aquila’s head as he said, “Oh, don’t be offended. Bennu’s just a grumpy old man.”
Bennu squawked at Desmond and Diya al-Dīn chuckled as he scratched the eagle’s neck, “Now, now, Bennu. Your son’s still quite young. You mustn’t lose your temper so easily.”
Bennu gave Diya al-Dīn the eagle equivalent of a deadpan stare that only made Diya al-Dīn and Desmond chuckle. Diya al-Dīn turned to face Desmond as he said, “They wished they could be here with me so we can all give this to you but… well… They have to stay in the harem.”
“Rules are rules, after all.” Desmond shrugged.
“Yes, I suppose so…” Diya al-Dīn agreed with a mirthless smile before shaking his head, “But we shouldn’t let that get to us. Today is a day of celebration, after all.”
Diya al-Dīn took out a folded red fabric and presented it to Desmond. Desmond tilted his head as he took it.
It was…
Well…
It was definitely a bit eye-catching.
The red fabric by itself was the same shade as the red sash they all wore.
It was the white embroidery that caught Desmond’s attention.
It seemed to be just… a chaotic mess.
There were small flowers of varying sizes and success, what looked like to be attempted at something vaguely bird-shaped or maybe even eagle-shaped, and… Desmond supposed the pointy inverted Vs were meant to be attempts of Assassin insignias?
“I hated that sash.” Diya al-Dīn admitted, making Desmond raise his head to look at him, “My father gave it to me when I was meant to be initiated. Not becoming an Assassin… well… that’s a story for another time.”
Diya al-Dīn’s smile was void of any happiness as he continued, “He told me it had been his and his father’s and his grandfather’s and… It’s… heavy.”
“Should I even have this?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“I was planning on burning it actually.” Diya al-Dīn admitted before chuckling when he saw Desmond’s wide eyes, “Then… we met you.”
Diya al-Dīn grabbed one end of the fabric and used his thumb to rub one of the crude-looking flowers, “It was Dvora’s idea to give you something the three of them created. I was the one who gave them this.”
“A hateful thing…” Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a fond smile, “My father would probably say we have desecrated a family heirloom but, to me…”
“These… imperfect designs, done by hands unfamiliar with the craft yet persisting nonetheless…” Diya al-Dīn raised his head as he whispered, “I like to think this is more beautiful now than it ever was before.”
Diya al-Dīn let go of the fabric and raised his hands towards Desmond’s head as he whispered, “May I?”
Desmond nodded and watched as Diya al-Dīn pull his hood down. He let go of the fabric when Diya al-Dīn gently tugged it and stood still as Diya al-Dīn folded the fabric into a triangle before placing it over Desmond’s head. He wrapped the right side under Desmond’s chin and pulled the end over his shoulder, towards the back of his head. While keeping hold of the right end, Diya al-Dīn wrap the left side over Desmond’s lower face, covering up to his nose before walking to Desmond’s back to tie both ends behind him tight enough that it would not be untied unless it was pulled. He grabbed the excess fabric that was forming a triangle behind Desmond and pulled it over, creating a makeshift hood with a big beak over Desmond’s forehead. He walked back to face Desmond and gently hooked his point finger on the fabric covering Desmond’s lower face, pulling it down. Finally, Diya al-Dīn pulled Desmond’s hood back as he said, “With this… I hope you remember... You are one of us, Desmond. You are a part of Alamut.”
“Nothing will ever change that.”
Desmond didn’t know what to say to that and Diya al-Dīn only patted his arm once before walking towards the gates. Desmond remained quiet, rubbing the red fabric wrapped around his head with his point finger and thumb while Diya al-Dīn announce that it was time for their initiation. Desmond turned to watch as the others were embraced one last time (with Peredur getting his hair ruffled again) before all of them walked to Desmond’s side. They all eyed the red fabric on Desmond’s head but said nothing with Hamaal just patting his back while Zain smiled brightly at him.
Oded led them once more to the Shadow’s Tower but, this time, he led them to the very top while Diya al-Dīn and his guards returned to the Mentor’s Tower and Aquila flew away to chase Bennu who stayed with Diya al-Dīn.
When they reach the top of the tower, Rawiya and Khalid were standing in the middle. The top floor of the Shadow’s Tower was an almost exact replica of the top floor of the Mentor’s Tower but there were no eagles there, only an empty space filled with open windows large enough that anyone could walk out of them and take a leap.
Desmond wondered if they were meant to take a leap but Khalid and Rawiya knelt down and unsheathed their hidden blade. They slowly thrust it into a crack in the floor in front of them and twisted their left arms. Desmond could hear the creaking of gears and he blinked, letting the world be shrouded in gray. The cracks that Rawiya and Khalid had plunged their hidden blades into were glowing white and Desmond could see the muted white glow of some kind of mechanism in the middle of the tower.
The middle that Desmond had thought to simply be solid stones glued together.
Desmond blinked to deactivate the Eagle Vision just as a large hole opened in the middle of the floor with a radius of a person and a half.
“Trust your brothers…” Oded said as he took a few steps back towards the hole, “And take a leap.”
Oded opened his arms wide and fell into the hole, surprising many of the recruits.
Khalid grinned and waved at them as he said, “See you on the other side, kids.”
“I am a year younger than- Khalid!” Peredur shouted as Khalid took a leap into the hole as well.
Rawiya simply chuckled before following Khalid.
All of the recruits cautiously neared the hole and peeked into it.
It was too dark to see the bottom.
Hell.
They didn’t even hear anything but, if Desmond was to guess…
This… this should lead them to the water underneath Alamut.
That was the only ‘landing’ Desmond could think of that would be able to let them live even if they were to jump from this high of a height.
“Well… I guess we just gotta take a leap of faith.” Desmond joked, making all the other recruits let out concerned laughs. Desmond stepped further forward until the tip of his feet was just an inch away from the edge of the hole.
He took a deep breath and open his arms wide as he…
… took a leap of faith.
Leaps of faith had always been a rush. It made his heart soar and his senses seemingly enhance during those few precious seconds of free falling.
Taking a leap into the hole brought nothing but darkness.
All Desmond could feel was the air around him.
All he could hear was the loud beating of his heart.
Then…
He saw the soft golden glow below, illuminating the waters, and Desmond turned his body to fall into the water legs first as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
The water was cold and Desmond opened his eyes. He almost snorted water when he noticed the ground below.
It was nothing more but debris now but Desmond was sure…
That debris had been part of some kind of building during the time of the Isus.
Desmond swam up to check and came to the surface, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he heard Peredur’s scream before he plunged into the waters. Desmond looked around and the golden light he saw on his way down was coming from the candles that seemed to be decorating the small pathway made of stones. Oded, Khalid, and Rawiya were standing with the other Assassins, each of them holding a candle as they stood around some kind of circular open area with a slightly elevated altar by the end. Large pillars, some destroyed while others were not, served as guides for them and Desmond swam to the shore where candles have been placed nearby to illuminate it. The other recruits followed him and they all walked towards the open area, their wet robes making squelching sounds that were very distracting.
Not distracting enough though since Desmond could hear Oded whisper to Diya al-Dīn, “I told you the leap of faith should be after the initiation. Now they’re all like wet cats.”
“This is more dramatic now shush. The children can hear us.” Diya al-Dīn whispered back, making the Assassins chuckle softly as the recruits reach them.
There was a loud cry and Desmond looked up, seeing Bennu fly down to land on Diya al-Dīn’s shoulder. Aquila soon followed and he flew towards Desmond. He was about to land on Desmond’s shoulder but seemed to have realized that Desmond was wet at the moment and he let out a disgruntled chirp before flying away and landing on the ground of the altar instead, staring at Desmond with disappointing eyes as if Desmond being wet was quite an inconvenience to him and Desmond should be ashamed of that.
Desmond simply smiled at the bird fondly before turning his attention to Diya al-Dīn as he greeted, “Welcome, brothers!”
Desmond’s attention turned to Bennu and he froze, seeing Bennu’s eyes.
He knew that others could not see it, not when Raiza told him that the three of them, Diya al-Dīn and Desmond were the only ones who could connect to their eagles. Bennu’s and Aquila’s eyes would always have a golden shine whenever they were connected.
One of the mentors were watching the initiation through Bennu’s eyes right now.
“With that leap, you have all died and had been reborn.” Diya al-Dīn announced before he asked, “Now. Take your first step…”
The recruits all looked at each other before they all stared at Desmond. Desmond knew it would be rude to sigh so he simply walked toward and, with the quick charade that Rawiya and Khalid were doing behind Diya al-Dīn and Oded, Desmond pulled down both his hood and his shemagh before walking up to the altar.
This close, he could feel the heat of the burning coal where seven sharp daggers had been placed, all of their blades glowing yellow and red to show that they have all been heated through the coals.
“Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.” Diya al-Dīn said as he stood next to the pedestal where the metal basin of burning coals and heated daggers were, “Are you ready to give up who you once thought you were?”
“I am,” Desmond answered, knowing the basics of the initiation rites of Alamut… no.
Of the Hidden Ones…
It was part of his ‘curriculum’ after all.
“Ready to sacrifice everything you held close?” Diya al-Dīn continued and Desmond stared at Bennu instead.
He felt sadness swirl around him at the reminder that it was not the mentors who would be initiating him and he knew that the sadness he felt must be nothing compared to how they must feel, right now, staying safe yet so far away from such an important tradition of their Brotherhood.
“I am.”
“Are you ready to leave your life behind…” Diya al-Dīn placed his right hand on the top of the pedestal, a bit further from the basin of burning coal and Desmond took that as the silent cue to take one of the daggers as Diya al-Dīn continued, “… and walk the path of shadows?”
“I am,” Desmond answered as he stared at the glowing blade of the dagger in his hand.
“Then out of the dark, you will come into the light.” Diya al-Dīn stated as Desmond placed his left hand on the part of the pedestal where there was a white fabric draped over it. Some kind of small rectangular box had been placed on top and Desmond knew that his left ring finger was meant to be placed there, elevating it from the rest of his fingers to minimize the possibility that he might accidentally cut more than one finger.
“And from the light, you will return to the dark.”
Desmond took a deep breath as he placed the blade just above his ring finger. In Masyaf, a Master Assassin was meant to cut the initiate’s finger to ensure that nothing went wrong.
At least, that was probably what Rashid wanted them to think.
Here in Alamut…
The traditional way to cut one’s finger was through their own hands.
A show of his resolve to join the Brotherhood and uphold the Creed.
Desmond…
Desmond felt calm.
This was a small sacrifice.
And…
He had worse.
So much worse.
Still, he took a deep breath and raised his head. Diya al-Dīn smiled at him as he nodded and Desmond… felt lighter for some reason.
He glanced behind Diya al-Dīn and saw the faces of people he knew and trusted.
He knew if he looked back, he would see the faces of those he cared for.
He turned to stare at Bennu’s eyes and he nodded.
He was safe here.
There was nothing to fear.
Desmond pushed the blade down, the hot blade cauterizing his amputated finger almost immediately as Diya al-Dīn continued, “Never forget the tenets you have sworn to uphold.”
“Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent.”
Oded helped Desmond cover his newly amputated finger in the medicinal salve that Desmond used to prepare when he was working for Diya al-Dīn.
“Hide in plain sight.”
Oded bandaged his left ring finger and Desmond wondered how many novices Oded had done this to.
Would he do this to every single one of them?
“Never compromise the Brotherhood.”
This time, it was Diya al-Dīn who helped him, placing the familiar weight of the hidden blade on him. The gauntlet itself was different from the one he remembered Altaïr used.
Instead of smaller plates connected to each other with tanned leather, the gauntlet’s arm shield was made of a single carved steel with a carving of an eagle curling around the Assassin insignia.
As Diya al-Dīn secured the Hidden Blade in his arm, he announced, “From this day forward, you are an Assassin.”
Notes:
The way Desmond’s shemagh was tied is based on the first how-to from this link.
The initiation is based on what we saw in Assassin’s Creed Mirage’s Cinematic World Premiere but changed a bit.
Announcement: New Yew Branch fic is up! It's called A New Way To Do Things and it's the first non-Desmond-centric Yew Branch in honor of Clay's Death Day, August 8 XD
Chapter 29
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In Masyaf, novices usually have two main duties. One was guard duty when they were in Masyaf. The other was for when they were out of Masyaf, they were given to a Rafiq who would assign them information gathering missions around the area that the Rafiq handled.
Not all informants working for the Brotherhood in Masyaf were novices though. From what Desmond could remember, novices were more or less on the side of errand boys for the actual informants who were either non-Assassin informants under the Brotherhood’s employ or Assassins who ‘switched careers’ at some point. The main point of being a novice would be to familiarize one’s self with the other duties performed by Assassins.
It wasn’t all assassinations and murder after all.
It seemed that a novice for the Persian Brotherhood was different though. Each novice was assigned to two Assassins who had been in the field for at least three years. They would do whatever the Assassins said and the point was it was more like…
Desmond guessed the nearest explanation would be half-field trip and half on-the-job training.
His entire batch was pretty much scattered into different strongholds and bureaus under the Persian Brotherhood’s purview.
They would stay there for as long as the mentor(s) deemed it necessary.
And Desmond…
Desmond was sent to Lambsar Castle, the most fortified and largest castle under Brotherhood control. Built in central Alborz mountain, it had natural defenses thanks to the quite deep (no, really, Desmond wasn’t even sure if he’d survive a leap of faith from the castle itself) valleys that made it impossible to be invaded from the east and west of the castle. Which meant they could focus on defending the north and south sides and the only way through it was by going through a very steep slope which made it much easier to see any incoming army (if there was even anyone foolish enough to do so).
Thankfully, the castle itself was pretty self-sufficient with water reservoirs and grain stores that could last them for years and were regularly replenished.
Honestly? It was more fortified than Alamut and Masyaf combined and…
It was filled with soldiers, not Assassins.
The castle itself only had four Assassins, Desmond and his group and Nadir, the appointed ‘commander’ of the army stationed in Lambsar and the keeper of the castle.
Speaking of which…
“Nadir’s looking for you, Vega.”
Desmond blinked, cutting his connection with Aquila.
Three minutes.
He could stay connected with Aquila for three minutes and counting now.
Which was progress even if he felt it was a bit too slow for his taste.
Especially since it’s been two years since he had been stationed here in Lambsar castle.
“Oh?” Desmond asked dryly as he jumped down from the parapet.
“He’s definitely taken a liking to you.” Khalid teased as they began to walk back into the castle keep.
“If he’s playing hooky and leaving me with all the paperwork again, I’ll shove them all down his throat and tell everyone he died in his sleep.” Desmond snarked, making the two guards patrolling the wall Desmond had been crouching on pause to look at him before shaking their heads and chuckling as they continued their patrol.
Khalid glanced at them before he said, “Good thing you’ve charmed the castle then. They’d probably won’t believe you but they won’t stop you from taking control.”
Desmond groaned and rubbed the back of his neck as they entered the main keep, “That’s not what I want. Wouldn’t the chain of command fall to you? You’re the highest ranking member between you, me and Rawiya, right?”
“We’re all novices, remember?” Khalid reminded him, “The fact that the Brotherhood even let us go here on our own was so we could learn from Nadir.”
Desmond sighed.
Officially, that was the reason why Khalid and Rawiya who were both novices with less than three years of experience under their belt were chosen as Desmond’s team. Nadir was meant to guide and train them here in Lambsar.
Unofficially?
Lambsar was as far away from Masyaf as the mentors could send him without raising Rashid’s suspicion.
Raiza had informed him that this way, there was less chance that any of Rashid’s Assassins or spies would be able to find him. All he needed to do was lay low for now and learn from Nadir.
Diya al-Dīn had suggested that Desmond see this as a vacation of sort since the main reason why he had been sent with Rawiya and Khalid, other than the fact that he was close to them, was because Desmond didn’t need to learn a lot of things, all things considered. He knew how to be an Assassin.
Everyone assumed he was taught on how to be an Assassin from an early age (which was both true, just not the way they believe it to be true) so what he lacked was the knowledge of the land, the culture and the people.
Which the three mentors had tried to cramp into Desmond’s brain before he was initiated and now…
Okay.
Rawiya and Khalid actually took over his lessons on the history of the Brotherhood and the land around them as well as everything they believe Desmond should know so he could easily blend in.
Nadir, on the other hand…
Nadir’s lessons composed on how to write reports to be sent to Alamut and how to take care of the many paperwork that he received every day.
Some of them, Desmond could understand why he was being taught of.
Reports concerning the newly implemented laws or rumored to be implemented laws from the neighboring countries and lands would heavily impact how any Assassin stationed in those lands would act.
Reports and rumors of bandit activities and even wild animals would also be necessarily in planning routes to take and, because the Brotherhood had such a visible presence around here, they would also have to take in consideration that they might have to take care of those ‘problems’ themselves both for their own security and the safety of the innocents.
Guard patrol schedules and routes were also vital since they were Assassins and they were the only ones allowed to take commanding posts in the strongholds held by the Brotherhood. Unless all the Assassins were incapacitated during an emergency situation then the chain of command would fall into the highest ranking soldiers in the stronghold. So, yeah, Desmond understood why he should know how to do this. In the event that something happened and the chain of command falls onto Desmond, he should be able to do something.
But…
Water usage and grain reports?
Inventories of food supplies?
Next year’s budget proposals?
Desmond was pretty sure Nadir just wanted him to do all the paperwork so he could do his wood carving in peace.
And, yeah, Desmond would be more than happy to admit that Nadir was really good at it and Desmond’s own room had gotten a sizable collection thanks to Nadir just giving them to him for free since they were just ‘practice’ anyway.
The highly detailed carving of an eagle that looked so similar to Aquila was practice?
Bullshit.
Desmond knew that Nadir was buttering him up so he’d be more easily swayed to do the paperwork.
He was a crafty man like that.
They finally reached the commander’s private office and went inside where Rawiya was already inside.
… staring at a wood carving of a…
… naked… woman…
Desmond was surprised that it had taken Nadir this long to show him his more ‘private’ collection.
From the expression on Rawiya’s face, it was clear he was unsure if he should like what he was holding right now or not.
“Please tell me you just want to show us your naked wooden dolls.” Desmond dryly asked as he and Khalid stood next to Rawiya.
Nadir was a man who was two decades older than Desmond right now with dark hair and light brown eyes. He had a dark beard that fell to the height of his shoulder blades which was always neatly combed.
He wore the dark robes that showed his status as the Rafiq over his Master Assassin robes. Like all Alamut Assassins, the small unique thing about his robes was that he wore a shorter black sash over his red sash which could be seen peeking at the edges of his belt. Desmond couldn’t be sure but the color looked a bit like the same hue as Nur’s black top.
Nadir informed him that the sash had been given to him by his young daughter who had since married a man from an old Assassin family and was living far away together with her husband.
“I have a few that I wouldn’t mind showing you if you’re interested.” Nadir said with a smile before chuckling as he saw Desmond’s unimpressed expression, “Relax, Vega. I didn’t call for you to do the paperwork.”
“Oh?” Desmond tilted his head.
Nadir took out the letter on top of the stack of papers on the right side of the desk and handed it to Desmond, “Alamut has requested your return.”
Desmond hummed at that as he flipped open the letter.
It was Diya al-Dīn’s handwriting, that much was for certain.
He didn’t receive that many letters because they were trying to make sure that Rashid won’t even get any clues that Desmond might be getting a bit of favoritism from the mentors but the ones Desmond did get were usually slipped inside one of Hilde’s letters for Khalid or letters Rawiya got from his family or the many letters Desmond got from his batch would and all would have something in common.
There was a hidden message that can only be decoded using the code that Nur had taught him.
The letter itself talked about how Diya al-Dīn was satisfied with the reports that they had been sending concerning the three’s training and performance for the past two years.
Huh.
Had it already been two years?
Desmond wasn’t going to lie, time sure passed by in Lambsar without him realizing it.
The days just seemed to… mix together.
And it wasn’t like Desmond was never busy anyway so he supposed it was easy to not realize just how long time it has been.
Because of this, their presence in Alamut was being requested for them to take their new mission.
And then…
There was the secret message.
Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad has been initiated into the Brotherhood.
Okay?
Desmond wasn’t surprised.
If Desmond was right about the timeline, this year was definitely meant to be the year that Altaïr would be initiated.
He should have been initiated the same year as Desmond but…
Well…
Abbas tried to kill him that year and they were both punished for it.
It seemed that the mentors believe that now would be safe for Desmond to return as Rashid would be busy ensuring the success of Altaïr’s novice training.
Desmond wasn’t sure why the mentors had worded it like that but he could see Rashid being busy making sure Altaïr would be trained correctly and would get used to the duties and responsibilities of an Assassin soon enough. Rumors of his ‘prodigy’ status had reached as far as Lambsar, after all.
And it didn’t even come from any of the Assassins.
It came from the soldiers.
They didn’t call Altaïr by his name, of course.
But Desmond had heard rumors of him.
The rumored recruit being trained to be Rashid’s successor.
Desmond was pretty sure that the rumor had been exaggerated or had been skewered by the time it reached the castle.
Not once had Altaïr been Rashid’s successor.
His favorite, sure.
His adoptive son, maybe.
But Rashid never had a successor.
He wouldn’t have had. Rashid would have never given up his position in the Brotherhood.
So Desmond was sure that this entire thing was simply… not as it seemed.
Anyway…
It seemed that the mentors want him back in Alamut now to…
Continue his training?
Oh.
Desmond supposed that meant he was going to be taught by the mentors once more.
Well, that was fine with Desmond. He’d rather spend hours dancing with Dvora than doing paperwork after all.
“Take the rest of the day packing your things.” Nadir said, handing Khalid a carving of a deer as he continued, “I’ll have the stables pack your things early in the morning so you can ride at dawn.”
“Thank you, Nadir.” Desmond nodded at him as he said genuinely, “For everything you’ve done for us these past two years.”
“Well, if you’re really grateful for your time here, maybe you can do me a favor on your way to Alamut?” Nadir asked with a grin as he handed Desmond a carving of a star with six rays.
The earnestness in Desmond’s face turned to an unimpressed expression as he said, “I’m not doing your paperwork today.”
Nadir let out a burst of loud laughter before he shook his head as he said, “No. Nothing like that.”
Nadir took out a map and laid it on top of his desk, making sure it didn’t hit the stack of paper on the right side of his desk. He pointed at the map near the river west of Lambsar, “You’ll be passing through this river tomorrow. We’ve had reports that bandits have been sighted around that area. Three traveling merchants have already been attacked with their stocks taken and their bodyguards killed. One of the merchants was even kidnapped for ransom and when his family couldn’t pay… well… you can guess how they took it.”
The three’s faces darkened but they didn’t say anything so Nadir continued while he used his hand to circle the east bank of the river, “Some reports say that they made their camp around this part but we can’t be completely sure if that’s true. Since you’re already going there…”
“We’ll take down the bandit camp along the way.” Desmond said with a nod.
“Thank you, brother.” Nadir nodded at him before saying sternly, “But remember, Vega. If you ascertain that you cannot take a target down with your current forces, send word and do not engage.”
Nadir placed both of his hands on the map as he reminded them, “We don’t have enough information to be sure of how large their camp is and how many there are. If you can’t take them down, send us word of everything you saw and I’ll send soldiers instead.”
Desmond nodded, “Got it.”
Nadir stared at Desmond for a moment before he turned to look at Rawiya, “Make sure he keeps his promise, alright?”
Rawiya grinned as he asked, “You really think I can stop him?”
Nadir sighed as he said, “Well, if you can’t…”
Nadir looked at Khalid as he said dryly, “Khalid sure won’t.”
“I’ll tell him what I think but I’ll follow his lead.” Khalid said with a grin.
Nadir sighed once more before turning to stare at Desmond once more, “Alright then. I’ll leave it to your judgment, Vega, but…”
“Don’t throw away your life so easily, alright?”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he replied, “I’ll do my best.”
Bandits were, unfortunately, a common sight everywhere one goes. With the tensions high thanks to the never ending power struggle in these lands, many were forced out of their homes and… there were many reasons why people would decide that becoming bandits was their only choice.
So bandit hunting was one of the many missions that the Brotherhood takes. They were, after all, hurting the innocents.
Even if they themselves may have simply been a product of circumstances.
Desmond knew it depended on the Assassin in charge with the mission but a few of them do spare some of the bandits and take them back to one of the Assassin stronghold to be trained as soldiers.
It was always a gamble, after all, and the most Assassins who do such a thing were those who believe in their gut feeling about people.
Desmond… was not one of those persons.
Mainly because he had trust issues worth five people and he has been burned before so he didn’t necessarily trust people easily.
And these bandits did kill people, including an unarmed merchant that they had kidnapped, just because his family didn’t pay their ransom. And…
From what Desmond could see from Aquila, they weren’t exactly the Robin Hood kind of bandits, that was for sure.
The three of them rode out of Lambsar at dawn and made their way east. Once they were near the river, Desmond connected with Aquila to look around.
The bandit camp was easy to spot in the air and the bandits themselves were early risers it seemed.
They did make camp near the river bank and they tried to use the surrounding forest to camouflage their camp. That only made it easier for Aquila to land right in the middle of their camp and Desmond activated his Eagle Vision while connected to Aquila.
Aquila stayed still at the same time as Desmond while the entire world turned gray and Desmond could see the different glows all around the camp.
Desmond counted twenty reds total, about five of them sleeping.
… must be the night shift, probably.
All of their ill gotten gains were in one of the small huts and, from the way the land surrounding it was formed, it was highly possible that they had dug underneath the hut to have more space to store their stolen goods.
Everyone was certainly armed with swords and some even had shields. Even those who were sleeping had their weapons on top of their bedrolls, ready to be used.
The huts were also near each other and they seemed to eat at the center of their little camp.
Three of those reds were patrolling the areas while two reds were stationed on high branches with a good view of the area surrounding their little camp.
It was clear that these weren’t typical down-in-their-luck-left-with-no-choice bandits. If Desmond was to hazard a guess, they probably used to be a mercenary groups.
Maybe they got betrayed or they themselves betrayed the wrong employer.
Or maybe their reputation was so bad no one would hire them anymore.
Regardless… it would simply be dangerous to leave them alive now that they had stooped to banditry.
Just as their three minute was about to run out, Aquila moved his head on his own volition and focused on the center of the camp.
Desmond saw what had caught Aquila’s attention and he blinked as their connection ended. Khalid and Rawiya saw the grin on Desmond’s face and Rawiya groaned as he asked, “We’re going to do something dangerous again, aren’t we?”
“Yup.” Desmond grinned at the two as he asked, “You guys with me?”
“Always.” Khalid answered with a grin of his own while Rawiya nodded.
“As long as we keep whatever plan you have out of the reports.” Rawiya shuddered as he remembered, “I don’t want to receive another letter filled with nothing but scolding from my brothers.”
“Sure.” Desmond agreed with a nod, “We’ll just say we freed a captive animal.”
“Oh. Ok- wait… What kind of animal?”
Anyone who were in the vicinity would have immediately booked it the moment they heard the loud roar of the bear that Desmond had freed.
To be more exact…
A mother bear whose two children were held captive in the other part of the camp.
That definitely got the bandits attention and, thanks to the righteous wrath from the brown bear that Desmond knew to be native around Lambsar castle so these bandits must have captured the bear and her cubs around that area or maybe they attacked a caravan that had captured the bear and her cubs…
They had used her as a distraction. They had timed it as best they could with Khalid taking down the reds above with his bow and Rawiya taking care of the ones patrolling just outside of the camp while Desmond stayed near the bear, throwing his knives at any of the bandits that would even dare attack the bear. It took the bandits a while before they realized that they didn’t just have the bear to worry about.
At that point, Rawiya had taken down all the bandits outside the camp and had circle his way back to the hut where they were hiding keeping the cubs imprisoned. He had set them free and they went running towards their mother who had just taken down the last bandit with the help of Desmond and Khalid who provided long ranged support. When the mother bear turned her attention to Desmond, Desmond took that as his cue to throw a smoke bomb and they all made a tactical retreat.
He was going to consider the mother bear’s roar as the bear equivalent of ‘thank you and fuck off’.
The letter that Aquila delivered to Nadir (who would not leave until Nadir gave him three pieces of meat and it really said a lot about how long Desmond had stayed in Lambsar that Nadir wasn’t even offended when Aquila looked displeased while eating the ‘mediocre’ meat) had been short and straight to the point.
“20 bandits. No survivors. East bank. Some would show signs of mauling.”
At that last sentence, Nadir stared at Aquila who was grumbling as he gobbled the last of the dry meat offered to him and asked, “Did your master get wild animals to attack the camp?”
Aquila raised his head to stare at Nadir and made his eyes go wide as if to mimic the usual human expression of feigning innocence. Nadir simply sighed.
“Well, at least this means the three of them are all in good health.” Nadir chuckled as he looked back at Aquila, “He’s a handful, that’s for sure but…”
Nadir raised his eyes at the sky as he mumbled, “I can see why Nur likes him.”
A calm silence descended upon Lambsar until…
“Ow! Okay, sorry! I thought you’d let me pet you at least once!”
They were two kilometers away from Alamut when they encountered the small caravan composed of five men in horses and two wagons with tents propped up to hide what they were transporting. Desmond whistled twice and all three of them adjusted the fabric hiding the lower half of their faces to make sure it was secure before they approached the caravan with Desmond galloping to the front while Khalid and Rawiya went on either side of the caravan, checking each horse and camel while keeping their distance. Desmond took point, ordering his horse to canter to the front of the caravan which was one of the wagons.
“Oh, hello there, Assassin!” A cheerful stout man greeted jovially as Desmond’s horse rode next to him.
“Good afternoon, good sir!” Desmond greeted back with a bow, “May I ask where you’re going? If we are going the same way, we would be happy to accompany you.”
Seeing the raised eyebrow, Desmond chuckled as he added, “For free, good sir.”
“Ah, an Assassin from Alamut then? Good, good. No offense to your brothers in al-Sham though. I know they take their guarding duties seriously but, well, money is tight for a while now.” The man shook his head as he sighed before saying in the same jovial tone he had before, “We’re on our way to peddle our wares to Alamut Castle. It’s been years since we’ve been around this parts so we would be grateful of any assistant you can provide on our way there.”
He leaned a bit towards Desmond as he said with a wink, “And we’d even give you three a discount on your first three purchases.”
Desmond laughed and nodded, “You have yourself a deal, my friend.”
He heard the flap of the wagon open as the man said, “Oh! I know that tone! I can already see that you’d be a good customer, Assassin. Tell me, where does your interest lie? Silk? Books? Perhaps, I can interest you-”
“Altaïr?”
Desmond momentarily froze before he slowly turned to look at the back of the wagon with its flap currently open.
And his eyes widened as he recognized the person who just called him ‘Altaïr’.
Notes:
For those wondering, yes. One of the baby bears was meant to be Desmond’s pet bear had it won the voting a few months ago. The alternate scene was that the mother bear would have died from previous wounds that the bandits have done while ‘playing’ with her before Desmond freed her and the other baby bear would have also died. Yuuuppp… Eagle Only winning meant that, well, there’s no bear and wolf death backstory XD
Also, can you just imagine how irritated Aquila would be if he wasn’t Desmond’s only child XD
Alright, I know that you guys are wondering who it is. Stay tune for the next chapter to find out. For now… let me know who you guys think it is? There’s no prizes for those who guess correctly. I just want to know if anyone would be able to guess who it was. Here’s a hint: it’s probably not the first person you thought of.
Announcement:
To commemorate Altaïr’s Death Day, I posted 3 AltDes fics (including this one)!
> A special epilogue of Beloved Moon.
> A yandere-ish dark AltDes Modern Day AU titled A Welcoming Darkness.
Also, just a head's up. As part of the August Birthday MegaPosting (I have no idea what I named this anymore), next chapter will be uploaded on Aug 16 (Wednesday)
Chapter 30
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
If Desmond needed any proof that his Bleed of Altaïr was faulty, he definitely got it now.
“Welcome home, everyone.” Amir greeted them as Desmond and his team dismounted in the stables just outside of Alamut. He looked at the caravan that was currently being interviewed by the two other members of his team before he turned to look at Desmond as he whispered, “Why’s that woman staring at you so much?”
Desmond glanced at the caravan and…
Yup.
She was definitely staring.
Desmond shrugged as he whispered back, “She mistook me for someone she knew.”
Oh.
Knew was such an understatement because Desmond remembered her.
Well…
He sorta forgot about her existence, sure, but seeing her eyes alone as the rest of her face was hidden by her niqab…
He knew it was Adha.
Altaïr’s Adha…
The woman Altaïr…
Well…
It was sorta complicated?
Desmond’s memories of Adha weren’t exactly clear but he knew for a fact that she had been Altaïr’s childhood friend and her death had been the trigger that made Altaïr feel disconnected with the Brotherhood.
The complicated part came with what Desmond couldn’t remember.
He knew that Adha and Altaïr were close.
And he knew that Altaïr felt something for her.
He could still remember the Codex page where he wrote that he didn’t know he could feel the same thing until he met Maria Thorpe.
So…
They were in love?
Or Altaïr was in love with her and she wasn’t?
Desmond wasn’t sure on that part.
Right now…
Adha kept staring at him like a goddamn hawk.
Ever since he tried to tell her that his name was ‘Vega’, her eyes simply narrowed and he knew that she didn’t believe him.
But he and Altaïr didn’t look exactly the same!
For one, he was taller than Altaïr.
Another thing was that he had lighter skin color.
And more importantly than any of these…
Altaïr had freaking golden eyes.
There was no way Adha who knew Altaïr when they were children would not remember that!
And if her reasoning would be that eye colors darken when people grow older, Desmond was going to call bullshit on her.
Altaïr’s golden eyes were simply too unique and Desmond would fight her tooth and nail just to-
Wait.
He couldn’t actually say any of that since he shouldn’t know Altaïr has golden eyes.
It was one of Masyaf’s greatest secret after all. Altaïr always kept his hood up so the shadows would darken the colors of his eyes and Rashid had ordered no one talk about Altaïr’s eyes as they were too noticeable.
The most that would have fallen into enemy hands would be that his eyes glowed gold which was a normal ‘rumor’ and legend around these parts since using the Eagle Vision do make eyes glow.
The glowing eyes had been one of the reasons why their enemies tried to spread rumors that they were taking drugs that had such a side effect.
… of course…
Desmond could just past off his knowledge of Altaïr’s eyes as him hearing rumors about it.
“Vega?”
Desmond hummed as he turned his attention back at Amir, “Sorry. Got lost in thoughts.”
“Over a woman?” Amir asked as he blinked his eyes.
Technically, he got lost in thoughts over Altaïr but…
“Yeah, sure.” Desmond shrugged, making Amir glance at both Khalid and Rawiya who were staring at Desmond as well.
“Mi’zar!” A recruit ran towards them and stood in front of Amir as he said, “Oded told me that the mentor wants Vega to take the informant and his daughter to the mentor’s tower.”
“The informant?” Amir frowned.
Desmond turned to stare at Adha who was now talking to another man. Both of them looked back at Desmond as he said, “I have a feeling I know who the mentor wishes to see.”
Desmond sighed and turned to look at Aquila who was still sitting on top of his horse’s saddle, eyeing the bag that had all of Desmond’s belongings and the rest of Aquila’s ‘treats’. Desmond caressed Aquila’s back as he said, “I’ll give you some later, okay? After I get back.”
Aquila turned to look at Desmond as Desmond continued, “You be good and don’t bother Khalid when he takes my stuff to my room, okay?”
“Oh? I’m taking your stuff?” Khalid asked innocently.
“Well, Rawiya would be visiting his father.” Desmond frowned at Khalid as he reminded him, “You wouldn’t want to deny a father and son their reunion after being away for 2 long years, right?”
“Oh, and what about my betrothed, huh?” Khalid argued even though his tone was light, “Don’t I deserve a reunion with Hilde too?”
Desmond blinked at him and, before Amir or the recruit could suggest they take Desmond’s things to his room, Khalid chuckled and shook his head as he said, “I just heard myself say it too. Hilde would be mad at me if she learned I didn’t help you out.”
“I am Hilde’s favorite.” Desmond said with a grin, knowing it for a fact because Hilde also sent him letters whenever she sent Khalid letters.
They were mostly Hilde asking Desmond how he was doing and about what she had heard from the Assassins about what was happening in town and such but she always ended it with a variation of ‘please look after Khalid as he’s awful at looking after himself’ but Desmond wasn’t going to tell Khalid that.
“Fine, fine.” Khalid waved his hand and walked towards Desmond’s horse, making Aquila look at him with daggers in his eyes, “Oh, don’t look at me. I’m just helping your father out. If you want to peck anyone, peck the mentor. He’s the reason why you’re not getting treats after such an awful journey.”
Aquila tapped his feet against the saddle, mimicking the stomping of feet that he learned from somewhere (Desmond has no idea where Aquila would have learned such a petulant child-like move) before turning to glare at Adha and the man who were still staring at Desmond.
Desmond tapped his beak, making Aquila shake his head and flap his wings in indignation, and Khalid instinctively dodged out of the way while Desmond said, “No. No pecking the guests.”
Aquila let out an annoyed chirp before flying off of the saddle, landing on Rawiya’s shoulder with his back turned towards Desmond.
Desmond sighed before warning Rawiya, “Don’t feed him.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I learned my lesson the last time he tried to use me to show his displeasure with you.” Rawiya said with a chuckle as he grabbed his own bags, “I guess I’ll have him visit my father as well then?”
“Don’t let your father give him anything either.” Desmond reminded him, “He has to learn that people won’t give him food just because he’s sulking.”
Amir stepped closer to Khalid as he whispered, “Is it me or is he-”
“Oh, yes. He’s fully embraced his father status.” Khalid said with a grin, watching as Desmond walk towards the woman and man who had been staring at them the entire time, “He’s reaping what he sowed though, spoiling Aquila.”
Amir just watched in confused fascination as Aquila turned around to glare at Khalid as if he understood that he was being badmouthed while Khalid just started whistling as if he knew Aquila heard him.
By that point, Desmond had reached Adha and the man and he opened his mouth to speak but the man (who he was presuming to be Adha’s father) spoke first, “Ah, yes! You’re here about the orders the doctor requested, correct?”
Desmond nodded as he played along, “Yes, sir. If you’d follow me, I will escort you to the doctor.”
“Of course, of course.” The man turned to grab the crate to his right as he said, “Adha, come.”
“Yes, father.” Adha dutifully picked another crate and Desmond took a step towards them, stopping when Adha turned to stare at him once more.
“Uh… if you need help, I can take the other one?” Desmond suggested.
“Ah, such a nice lad.” The man said cheerfully, turning to look at Adha, “Go on, dear. Give him that crate and take our bag instead, would you?”
“Yes, father.” Adha replied, handing the crate to Desmond. Desmond froze when Adha brushed her hands against his. Her gray eyes seemed to pierce right through him and he wondered if she could sense a similarity between him and Altaïr.
There had to be a reason why she called him Altaïr, after all.
They stared at one another for a few seconds before she turned away and grabbed a bag. The man stared at the both of them before he nodded at Desmond, “Well then, shall we go?”
“Yes. This way.” Desmond said as he began to walk towards the main gates of Alamut.
“Oh, you going already, Rekem?” The leader of the caravan that Desmond had talked to before asked as he continued to be interrogated by one of Amir’s team.
“Yes. I need to deliver this to this castle’s doctor.” Adha’s father, a man named Rekem apparently (if Altaïr knew the name, Desmond had no memory of it), answered as he lifted the crate he was holding slightly.
“Ah, I see, I see. We’ll see you in the inn then.”
“Of course.” Adha’s father nodded.
Assuming that was the end of their conversation, Desmond led them to Alamut.
Curious but slightly dreading what conversation he’d hear once they reached Diya al-Dīn.
Alamut remained just as he remembered it.
Peaceful.
Quiet.
It was definitely a welcome sight to see and walk through.
His two year stay in Lambsar had been eventful and boring at the same time.
Hearing training and practice drills every day while he prepared for the day…
Working out guard routes and schedules…
Daily meetings about the current situation near the castle and predicting what would happen next and how they react to each possible situation…
It was always busy and, yes, Alamut was busy as well but Lambsar Castle had always felt more…
Militaristic.
He felt more like a commanding officer of an army than an actual Assassin there.
But here in Alamut…
Even though he knew that many Assassins pretended to be guards and soldiers to make it appear like Alamut had more soldiers than Assassins protecting it…
It still felt more welcoming to him.
But it seemed that not many recognize him.
That wasn’t entirely surprising considering he’d been gone for two years and he had certainly grown during that time.
Still…
There was definitely a certain kind of loneliness in anonymity.
But because of this, he was able to escort Adha and his father to the mentor’s tower without any problem.
The Assassins guarding the gates looked to be mostly recruits but Desmond saw a few Assassins staying by the shadows or crouching on top of the gates, watching but staying quiet.
When they reached the mentor’s tower, they were greeted by Diya al-Dīn’s guards who nodded at Desmond as one of them said, “Welcome home.”
“Thanks.” Desmond replied with a grin even though he knew the guards couldn’t see it. He had almost said ‘it’s good to be home’ but managed to stop himself, feeling the phrase would be a bit awkward even if it was probably the closest to how he felt at the moment.
“Diya al-Dīn is in his office.” The other guard said as he kept his eyes on Desmond, “He wants you to join them.”
Desmond knew that the moment Amir said he was going to be the one to bring Adha and her father but he didn’t say anything, only nodding as the three of them followed the guards inside the tower.
The air was filled with awkward silence that Desmond couldn’t exactly break. He couldn’t ask how Diya al-Dīn or the mentors were doing or talk about how he had been doing since Adha and her father were with them.
Thankfully, they reached the mentor’s office soon enough and Desmond blinked.
It was…
Clean.
Like… someone had done a thorough deep cleaning in the entire room.
Everything was organized. Not a single herb or even a leaf in sight.
It felt like an actual professional office than the usual half-office half-pharmacy-ish room that Desmond had worked in.
And Diya al-Dīn…
He actually looked like a Rafiq.
No.
A mentor.
His outfit looked quite similar to Rashid’s usual outfit with a white Assassin robes that only had a red sash but no belt and a black long jacket over it.
“Safety and peace, mentor.” Adha’s father greeted as he bowed. Adha took off the face covering of her niqab before bowing as well and that only made Desmond feel awkward because he had actually never greeted Diya al-Dīn with a bow before.
Was he also supposed to bow?
Was it actually okay for Adha to remove that part of her niqab???
“Upon you as well, brother.” Diya al-Dīn greeted back and Desmond blinked.
Was…
Was Adha’s father an Assassin?
No.
Desmond checked.
He had all ten fingers.
Did that mean…
Oh shit.
Was Adha Diya al-Dīn’s niece?!
Diya al-Dīn turned to look at his guards and nodded before he turned his attention back to the three in front of him, “On behalf of the Brotherhood, I thank you for your services.”
“We could only compile the reports from the Assassins who met us during our journey.” Adha’s father said as the guards took the crates, “As usual, they have been placed in the false bottom. We made sure to pack as much salve and medicine as we could as well.”
“Of course.” Diya al-Dīn took out a huge coin pouch from the drawer of his desk and walked towards them, handing it to Adha’s father who took it with a slight nod, “For all the troubles this must have caused you.”
“Thank you.” Adha’s father said and…
Was it just Desmond or was there a certain kind of… coldness in their interaction with one another?
It wasn’t hostility… but it definitely wasn’t exactly welcoming as well.
Diya al-Dīn stepped back and turned to face Desmond, his serious expression brightening as he smiled. He placed both hands on Desmond’s shoulders as he said, “Welcome home, Desmond. May I?”
Desmond nodded and let Diya al-Dīn take off his hood and shemagh, hearing the hitching of breath from Adha but ignoring it as Diya al-Dīn placed both of his hands on his cheeks gently.
They were warm.
“Look at you, you’ve grown so much these past two years.” Diya al-Dīn said softly. He could see the pride in his eyes which made Desmond’s chest grow warm but there was also a hint of sadness in them and Desmond…
Desmond knew it was because Diya al-Dīn felt sad that he did not watch Desmond grow with his own eyes.
Desmond understood why though.
Sending Desmond to Lambsar Castle meant he was far away from Masyaf as he could possibly be and away from any rumors that might circulate. Lambsar was supposed to keep him invisible until it was time to return home.
And Desmond didn’t feel any anger over it.
He understood why.
So he simply smiled as he said, “I’m still going to continue to grow.”
The way Diya al-Dīn’s smile grew was all Desmond needed to see to know that Diya al-Dīn had understood what he meant.
He might have missed the last two year but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see Desmond continue to grow.
Diya al-Dīn nodded at him before he guided Desmond to stand with him so they would be facing both Adha and her father.
From the way Adha was looking at him with wide eyes, it was clear that she must have been surprised to see how similar he looked to Altaïr.
But then… if Adha didn’t realize it back then…
Why did she call him ‘Altaïr’ in the first place?
“This is Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.” Diya al-Dīn introduced him to the two.
“So the rumors were true. He looks a lot like Umar.” Adha’s father said with a contemplative expression on his face, “Had I not known Umar to be loyal to Maud to his last breath, I would have believed him to be Umar’s natural son.”
He turned to look at Diya al-Dīn as he asked, “He’s a descendant of the Hidden One then?”
“Yes.”
Weeellll…
Yeah, sure.
Desmond wasn’t going to object to that.
“Then he must be related to Umar in some way.” Her father noted and Desmond couldn’t even say how right he was, “The final proof we needed to know that Umar must have been a descendant of the Hidden Ones.”
Wait.
What?
Desmond turned to look at Diya al-Dīn with a questioning gaze.
Umar Ibn-La'Ahad was a descendant of the Hidden Ones?
Wasn’t he an orphan?
“Umar Ibn-La'Ahad is an orphan that was born in Anbar.” Diya al-Dīn explained to Desmond, “There was a Hidden One presence there before. Umar’s parentage might be unknown but the way he was able to master the Eagle Vision and the way he moved…”
“Many believe Umar might have been a descendant of the Hidden Ones. Even if he wasn’t, his potential could not be mistaken.” Adha’s father continued and Desmond turned to look back at him. Instead of acknowledging Desmond, Adha’s father turned to stare at Diya al-Dīn, “You’ve given up on Altaïr, then?”
Diya al-Dīn’s face darkened as he said, “He has been raised by Rashid. He was lost to us the day Umar sacrificed himself.”
“Then you should tell the boy the reason why he’s here.” Adha’s father said coldly.
Diya al-Dīn sighed and turned to stare at Desmond. Seeing the solemn expression on his face, Desmond turned to face him as well, waiting for him to speak.
“I wish to adopt you, Desmond.”
Desmond’s eyes widened and he wasn’t even given a chance to say anything as Diya al-Dīn continued, “And when the time comes, I wish for you to take the title of mentor and imam.”
Wait.
What?
“And…” Diya al-Dīn nodded at Adha as he continued, “… I wish for you to marry Adha.”
Desmond turned to stare at Adha who…
“I’m supposed to marry Altaïr.”
Desmond’s eyes widened at those words and Adha stared at Diya al-Dīn with barely restrained fury, “Mentor… I was raised to marry Altaïr, was I not?”
Oh god.
This was the kind of awkward soap opera drama that Desmond absolutely did not want to be a part of!
Hell, he didn’t want to be part of any love triangle bullshit!
No matter how one looked at it, if this was a hallmark movie, Desmond would be the ‘evil’ romantic lead that would stand in the way of whatever childhood romance trope Altaïr and Adha had going on!
“Yes. You were promised to Altaïr but that was to bring Umar back to Alamut.” Diya al-Dīn said calmly and Desmond had half a mind to elbow him in the guts.
There were kinder ways to-
Wait.
What?
What???
“With Umar gone-”
“But Altaïr is still there! If I marry Altaïr-”
“All that would accomplish is that you would become part of Masyaf.” Diya al-Dīn countered. His words weren’t meant to hurt and it was clear that he was simply explaining it but Desmond could see the frustration in Adha’s face.
“Altaïr is lost to us.”
Those words caused Desmond to freeze.
“He’s not lost.” Adha said calmly, glaring at Diya al-Dīn as she spatted, “You just turned your back on him because you found a replacement for Uncle Umar!”
“Adha!” Her father shouted but Adha didn’t even flinch, glaring at Diya al-Dīn as if challenging him to… to do what, Desmond wasn’t even sure.
Instead of taking the bait, Diya al-Dīn sighed and placed a hand on Desmond’s shoulder as he said calmly, “Perhaps it would be better if you and Desmond get to know one another for a bit then? We shall table any talks of marriage for now.”
Table?
No.
Just throw it out the damn window!
“I don’t want to get married.” Desmond blurted out before wincing when he realized how that might have sound so he turned to Adha as he said, “No offense.”
Desmond turned to look back at Diya al-Dīn and opened his mouth but Diya al-Dīn cut him off, “I know, Desmond. This is not meant to be a marriage of love but a marriage of… security.”
At those words, Adha frowned and Desmond’s eyes widened.
Oh god.
Was Diya al-Dīn…
Oh fuck.
He forgot Diya al-Dīn believed Desmond only liked guys.
Was he pushing for Desmond to marry Adha because it would be scandalous for the imam to be gay???
Wait, wait, wait.
Why was Desmond even focusing on the whole marriage thing when Diya al-Dīn just told him he was planning to adopt him and make him the mentor and imam?!
He was so surprised by the whole marrying Adha thing that he completely forgot about that bigger issue!
“I don’t-”
“Desmond.” Diya al-Dīn cut him off and patted his shoulder as he gave him a small smile, “We’ll talk about that later, alright? For now… why don’t you and Adha have tea in the other room?”
What other room?!
“Usman will chaperon the both of you.” Diya al-Dīn said as he nodded at one of the guards. He patted Desmond’s back as he said, “Go. Rekem and I have much to discuss about.”
Desmond couldn’t do anything but let Diya al-Dīn gently push him towards the door. Adha looked at her father who shook his head and she huffed as she followed Desmond out of the room.
Well…
Good news.
He finally knew which guard was Zain’s father.
Desmond was sure the room to the right of Diya al-Dīn’s office had been a storage room.
Now, it looked like…
A tea room…
With actual hot tea already in the room.
It was clear that Diya al-Dīn had planned for Desmond and Adha to come here and… get to know one another.
Oh god.
It was so freaking awkward Desmond couldn’t even do anything but stare at Adha who was also staring at him.
The guard that was supposed to be chaperoning them just stayed by the door, being his usual silent self and that made everything all the more awkward if Desmond was being honest.
He was sure that staying in a room with an unmarried woman with a chaperon like Zain’s father wasn’t actually how it was traditionally done too.
But then again, it seemed that Desmond and Adha’s possible betrothal (god, just thinking about it makes Desmond feel both awkward and embarrassed) was not traditional by any means.
He wasn’t even sure how Adha was related to Diya al-Dīn at all!
Was her father Diya al-Dīn’s actual brother?!
Did Diya al-Dīn even mention he had any siblings?!
“Altaïr is more handsome than you.”
Okay… ouch.
But also…
Yeah.
Desmond would agree to that.
All of his ancestors were hotter than him, that’s for sure.
But it would be weird if he was to agree to that, right?
“Thanks.”
…
That was also a weird reply!
God. He hoped Aquila would just fly inside this room and demand pets because at least Desmond could focus on something else.
It seemed Adha didn’t think that he would say that because her blank expression turned into a frown.
Not sure if that was any upgrades to the cold blank expression she had before though.
“You’re not angry?”
“About?” Desmond asked, tilting his head slightly.
At that move, Adha’s frown deepened.
“I thought you were Altaïr.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“And I was just comparing you to him just now.”
“Yeah, you did.”
Adha stared at him for a moment before she commented, “You’re a strange man.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Desmond said as his lips curved into a small smile, remembering the soldiers in Lambsar Castle who sometimes call him strange because of his mannerisms.
They both fell silent once more and it was just as awkward as before. Desmond stared at his cooling tea for a moment before he took a deep breath.
He might not remember Adha all that well but he remembered that Altaïr had trusted her.
That must mean that she wasn’t a bad person, right?
“I…” Desmond placed the cup back on the table and rubbed the back of his neck as he thought of how much he would tell Adha, “I don’t want to get married.”
“I heard.” Adha replied curtly.
“It’s not you!” Desmond quickly added, wincing when that sounded really bad before continuing, “I… I’m not…”
He couldn’t exactly say that, while he didn’t mind whatever gender his partner was, he wasn’t exactly looking for any kind of relationship at the moment…
Shall he double-down on Diya al-Dīn’s misconception that he was gay then?
Would that be better?
It would be annoying but, at the same time, he’d rather be mistaken for gay than be in the position that he had to explain how Desmond Miles had been screwed over so many fucking times that he had trust issues longer than the goddamn Silk Road (which wasn't called Silk Road yet).
“I can’t fall in love with…” Desmond stared at Adha with an imploring look. It was meant to convey ‘… people I don’t trust’ but…
Adha stared at him for a moment before her eyes widened as she said, “Oh.”
Then she let out a louder “Oh.” and Desmond knew she had mistaken it to mean ‘… women’.
They both looked at the table as the awkwardness of the room turned more stifling.
“But can you…” Adha glanced at the rug beneath them before she asked in a gentler tone, “Can you… perform?”
Desmond froze.
What.
“Uuuhh…”
“Do you have a lover that should be present in our bed to…” Adha moved her hands to form gestures of-
“Oh, I get it! I get it!” Desmond exclaimed and both of them lowered their heads once more as their cheeks reddened. Adha’s hands stayed frozen for a moment before she dropped them as well and gripped the fabric of her dress tightly.
Jesus Christ on a Pogo stick.
What the hell was this conversation they were having right now?
Normally, Desmond wouldn’t even bat an eye if the topic was sexual but…
First of all, Adha looked like she was maybe 17? Maybe 18?
And… well… Desmond barely knew her!
Desmond groaned and placed both of his hands on his face as he asked, “You made a big deal about being engaged to Altaïr but you seem okay talking about our ‘wedding night’.”
Adha frowned and crossed her arms as she said, “Well, it’s not like you have any say to what our fathers would decide.”
Desmond lowered his hands as he stared at Adha who continued in a frustrated but resigned tone, “They’re probably talking about how much my mahr would be by now.”
Mahr…
Bride price.
Oh god.
Just thinking about it made Desmond want to hurl.
“If I was talking to the mentor, I could try to push it but… well…” Adha looked at him with an understanding expression as she said in a gentle but almost resigned tone, “We’re both powerless in this, aren’t we?”
Desmond stared at her for a moment before he turned to look at the window. Seeing the clear blue sky, he asked quietly, “And what about Altaïr?”
Adha was quiet for a moment before she said, “I haven’t seen Altaïr since his father died.”
Adha sighed before admitting as she looked out the window as well, “What’s to say that he even remembers me? It’s been… seven years already.”
Altaïr remembered her.
And he would always remember her…
Enough to write about her in the Codex…
“I…” Desmond paused for a moment before he said, “I won’t marry someone who’s in love with someone else.”
Adha turned to look at him, blinking as she said, “I think you’re misunderstanding something.”
“I don’t love Altaïr.”
Desmond turned to stare at her with wide eyes so quickly he was surprised he didn’t hear his neck crack.
“I mean…” Adha adjusted the fabric on her head as her eyes flickered to the window before staring back at Desmond as she explained, “I was raised to believe I would be marrying Altaïr and I do have fond memories of him but we were too young back then to even think about being in love with one another. I fancied him, sure, but that was more…”
Adha smoothed out the fabric of her dress as she continued, “A children’s idea of what love should feel like I suppose.”
Desmond paused.
Just how faulty was Desmond’s memories from Altaïr?
No.
Altaïr’s love for Adha was a fact, not… something conjured by Desmond’s faulty Bleed memories. Adha was only saying that because they haven’t seen each other in ages.
When they get older, they would see each other once more and…
And what?
Adha was destined to die.
That was a fact.
She was destined to die and her death was supposed to mean something to Altaïr.
Unless…
Desmond was playing with fire but…
It wasn’t like he could just let Adha die right now, right?
But if he could help her fake her death… and everyone assume she was dead…
Then wouldn’t that mean that their marriage (IF they were to be married) would be… well… a thing of the past?
But Desmond didn’t want to be married to Adha and…
He didn’t want Altaïr thinking he was in love with Adha or something!
“I…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “I’m sorry, Adha. I just…”
“We don’t have to pretend to love one another.” Adha said and Desmond couldn’t help the way his heart clenched painfully at how easy Adha could say such thing.
Sure, he didn’t think marriage was all that important but…
Adha was saying it because she was raised to believe that she didn’t have a choice on who she would marry.
She was trying to compromise because she believed she was in an unavoidable situation.
“As long as we have an heir and you don’t flaunt your lover in front of any guests-”
“I-!”
Adha stopped when Desmond raised his voice but he stopped before he could continue. What could he say?
‘You shouldn’t be placed in this situation where you think you have to get married’?
What right did Desmond have to say that?
Adha’s father was the one who held all the powers and Adha was…
Adha would follow her father’s orders because that was how she was raised.
Compromising was the extent of what she could do.
Desmond’s words would only hurt her.
Because they were essentially empty words as far as she was concerned.
Adha must have seen the conflict he felt in his expression because her face softened. She hesitated for a moment before she placed a hand on top of one of Desmond’s clenched fists. Desmond stared at her hand as she said gently, “It’s alright, Desmond. We’ll make it work.”
Desmond stared at her as she gave him a small smile and Desmond could see the sadness she tried to hide in her eyes, “You don’t have to think of it as a marriage. Just think of it as… an alliance.”
“An alliance.” Desmond repeated as he slowly opened his hands. He turned his hand and held Adha’s hand as he asked, “How about we start at being friends then, Adha?”
Adha blinked at that request before she nodded, her smile becoming just a tad brighter, “Alright. Let’s be friends, Desmond.”
Diya al-Dīn and Adha’s father spoke for hours and, during that time, Adha and Desmond talked.
Just… learning about one another.
Adha talked about the places they’d travel to as her father was a traveling merchant. (“As far as the Brotherhood is concern, we’re not Assassins nor are we informants employed by the Brotherhood. We sell information to anyone who asks except Alamut, of course. Alamut we give information for free.”)
Desmond talked about his time in Lambsar and his training. He knew Adha noticed he made no mention of his life before he came to Alamut but she didn’t call him out of that which he appreciated.
But there was only much they could talk about before Adha started talking about her childhood.
And more importantly…
About Altaïr.
That was when Adha admitted that the reason why she had mistaken him for Altaïr had been because the way he spoke.
“You mean I spoke like Altaïr?”
Which wasn’t surprising since he did learn how to speak the most commonly used languages in these parts thanks to Altaïr’s Bleed.
“Of course not. The last time I’ve talked to Altaïr was when we were children. I wouldn’t know if he still speaks the same way.” Adha said with a shake of her head before she stated, “You speak like Uncle Umar.”
That made Desmond freeze.
“So I thought maybe… Altaïr…”
… had either grown up to speak similar to his late father or had deliberately tried to mimic his late father…
Either option was a sad one and Adha seemed to have realized it as she changed the subject to a lighter story about how Altaïr used to chase birds in flight when he was a child.
Desmond was mature enough to admit that Adha had noticed he was more interested in any stories she might have about Altaïr but…
Thankfully, she seemed to have mistaken his interest for Altaïr as something similar to Altaïr’s interest in him.
“His interest in me?”
“You are the Desmond that took down ten recruits, right?”
“What? No!”
Oh god.
Khalid’s ambiguous answer had fucking backfired.
“Oh. Well, that was the rumor going around the bureaus. I heard that Altaïr listens to any mentions of you.”
“He does?! Why?”
“For the same reason why you’re asking about him. You’re rivals, right?”
Oh.
Fuck.
Rivals.
Altaïr thought of him as his rival.
Oh god.
This was the worst.
But it was still fixable!
As long as he stayed far away from Altaïr, he’d just be ‘that Desmond’ who Altaïr heard of but never seen or interacted with ever.
Yeah. That would work.
No.
It will work.
Desmond was going to try and be optimistic!
But first…
He needed to talk to Diya al-Dīn now that his hours long meeting with Adha’s father was done.
“We will be having dinner with my wives.” Diya al-Dīn said the moment Desmond entered his office, “Dvora wanted to prepare a feast but Raiza and Nur were able to make it as simple as they could.”
“I don’t want to marry Adha.”
Diya al-Dīn raised an eyebrow as he commented, “I expected you to be more worried about being our successor.”
“Oh, I don’t want to be the mentor or the imam as well.” Desmond added with a nod, “I’m not even religious for god’s- I mean-”
Desmond groaned and rubbed his forehead. He took a deep breath before he continued, “The whole successor thing is far into the future, right? I’ll annoy the fuck out of all four of you until you decide that I’m not worth the trouble-”
“You will always be worth it, Desmond.” Diya al-Dīn said with a smile.
“Don’t try to butter me up!” Desmond exclaimed before continuing, “But right now, the most important part is I don’t marry Adha!”
“Your betrothal will not be announced until I officially adopt you so you can relax. Get to know Adha for a bit.” Diya al-Dīn suggested, “They’d be staying in Alamut for the next two days.”
That will never be enough to know someone enough to know if they should get married!
“I’m not-”
“I’m not telling you to fall in love with her, Desmond.” Diya al-Dīn said kindly, “And Adha is smart and understanding. She will understand if you take a male lover.”
Diya al-Dīn paused for a moment before he added in a more thoughtful tone, “And I’m sure she would prefer you have a male lover than a mistress or a second wife that would muddy the line of succession.”
“That’s not about-! I-” Desmond faltered, unable to finish his sentence.
“‘I wish to marry for love’, is that what you wished to say?” Diya al-Dīn asked, making Desmond nod at him hesitantly because the real reason why Desmond was objecting to this betrothal was too complicated to try and explain right now. Diya al-Dīn’s eyes softened as he said kindly, “Desmond… many people of this land will not accept you if you make it clear that you love a man.”
“So what?” Desmond asked and shook his head when Diya al-Dīn opened his mouth, “And I’m not being stubborn about this because I want an excuse to not be the imam or the mentor. I-”
Desmond’s hands had been on his sides this entire time and he couldn’t help himself in gripping the fabrics of his robes as he admitted, “I spent my life… hiding pieces of myself from other people. Before I came here, I always played a part. I’ve always… I…”
“I don’t expect to fall in love with anyone.” Desmond admitted, letting out a bitter chuckle before whispering, “I don’t think I ever will.”
“I don’t think I can ever trust anyone so much that I’ll let myself fall in love with them.” Desmond whispered before he said more clearly, “But that doesn’t mean I want to live another lie.”
“Adha deserves better than that! I-!” Desmond halted and his words grew softer, “I…”
“I…”
“You deserve better than that.”
Desmond turned around and saw Raiza by the open doorway, wearing Master Assassin robes. Raiza turned to look at Diya al-Dīn as she said, “I will talk to my brother. Let the rumors of their betrothal continue as plan but…”
“You don’t have to marry her, Desmond.” Raiza stepped towards Desmond but didn’t try to touch him, “We didn’t… we didn’t think that you’d be against it this much. We were…”
“You were trying to protect me. I know…” Desmond looked at the floor for a second before he raised his head to stare at Raiza, “But I’m not a kid. I can take care of myself.”
“Yes. I suppose so.” Raiza raised her hand but stopped before he could touch Desmond’s cheek. Instead, she adjusted his shemagh as she said, “You’ve grown so much…”
“We’ll talk about such heavy topics tomorrow. For now…” Raiza stepped back as she said, “Let’s talk about how your stay was in Lambsar Castle while we eat, alright? Dvora made sure we have all your favorites.”
“I…” Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile, “I’d like that.”
It wasn’t the end but…
Raiza seemed to be on his side on this one so maybe…
Maybe he can get through to them…
Otherwise…
It would pain Desmond to do it but he might…
He might have to leave his home once more.
Notes:
Special mentions to TheBingeReader1, mist_shadow, Mytaekooksoul and Milovrm for having Adha as one of their guesses. There’s no prize sadly though :(
Next chapter will be up together with another Yew Branch oneshot on August 26!
Attention: A sorta-Desmond-centric Layla POV oneshot has been uploaded called grayspace(17) for anyone interested :)
Chapter 31
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Life in Alamut started once more just like it had before…
Peaceful and uneventful.
Most of the time, Desmond continued his lessons with the mentors and even with Diya al-Dīn but now they were more focused on lessons on how to be the imam and mentor.
Desmond…
Desmond sorta had an idea that this was what they were trying to do two years ago.
That wasn’t exactly right…
Back then, he didn’t see it because he didn’t see himself as worthy of such titles. He had lived his entire life believing he was never enough.
That he would never be enough.
And maybe he truly wasn’t.
Maybe the words William Miles didn’t say were the truth.
He had no drive. No ambition…
All he had was his lineage.
And from that lineage, he was given the skills and experience of three Master Assassins and one Grand Master.
And he believed that everything he was able to do was because of them. He became the son that William Miles wanted this entire time because of the Bleeding Effect.
And that… that was why Desmond could never see himself as worthy of the title of mentor.
All he would be doing would be to do what his Bleeds would have done. To mimic the legends and pretend to be one of them.
When he was not them at all.
And Lambsar Castle…
… showed that to Desmond.
Away from the lessons and the coddling from the mentors and Diya al-Dīn… Nadir treated him like Rawiya and Khalid.
The soldiers treated him like a commanding officer and Desmond was pushed into that role by Nadir.
He didn’t enjoy it, not really, but… it was different.
A different role than the ones his ancestors had during their time.
And that was how Desmond realized that he did have… not a talent, he would say, but an affinity to it.
To managing people under him… schedules, reports, meetings…
They were boring.
Absolutely boring.
And they were the kind of boring that his Bleeds hated.
They were all men of actions. Even Haytham preferred to be in the front lines…
But Desmond…
Desmond kinda liked it?
Oh it was boring, sure, but, at the same time, it was…
Rewarding.
… except grain reports.
Dear god, he was going to shove those goddamn reports to the throat of the one who gives them to him.
Well, okay… making all the numbers of those grain reports make sense and go into the positive line was reward as well.
It was a form of control that Desmond didn’t have before.
And a well of information that he had never gotten before as Desmond Miles.
His decisions could easily mean the death of those under him and that would always weigh down on him.
But… at the same time, he didn’t have to make those decisions on his own.
Rawiya, Khalid and Nadir were always there with him and they talk it out, listen to each other suggestions and plans and say their own.
It meant it took more time for them to finalize their plans but…
Desmond could see why the Hidden Ones preferred to have a council of mentors instead of just one.
A single mentor could make quicker decisions and would have more freedom but a council could be slower in acting but there were more ideas in the table that a single person may not even think of.
They both have pros and cons and Desmond wasn’t sure which one was better.
What he was sure was he… liked being able to talk ideas with other people on equal footing. Even when they start to argue because of a plan or an idea, it felt… nice.
Desmond knew he couldn’t fill the shoes of the people who came before him but…
He didn’t have to.
What he couldn’t do on his own, he was able to do something about when he was with people he trusted.
And that was when he realized why he never liked Raiza’s questions of what Desmond would have done if he had been a king or a ruler during one of her history lessons.
Because she had always asked what Desmond would have done and Desmond knew he didn’t have all the information to make a choice that he would be happy about.
Thinking of his lessons made Desmond miss them and, more importantly, made him realize that the lessons themselves were meant to be more than a way to teach Desmond about the world.
They had been trying to prepare him to succeed them.
And Desmond…
Honestly?
Desmond realized that he didn’t mind it at all.
Or… to be more exact, if he was being true to himself and seeing everything in a less favorable light…
He had gotten too close to so many people here in Alamut…
Had come to see Alamut as his home…
That he felt like he didn’t mind the role they wish to push on him anymore.
There was that small part in his head that liked to whisper to him that what he was feeling was ‘obligation’ and that he should ignore it.
Running away will always be an option and Desmond was waiting for the trigger…
That moment that will wake him up from this sweet dream of a home of his own, of being around people who care about him…
And remember that Desmond Miles never had a place to call his own.
It was easy to think of Alamut as his home but all of these…
The responsibility…
The obligation…
A small part of Desmond kept whispering to him that it shouldn’t be his. That he didn’t even belong in this place and time in the first place.
That the best way to protect the timeline was to simply… disappear.
But he could still ignore it.
As he continued his life here in Alamut, he can still ignore that soft whisper until it would finally start to grow louder.
And by then…
Desmond supposed that would be the day that he would leave this place.
But…
Not yet.
Not when he could still see hope in the horizon.
Succeeding them…
It might be the thing that Desmond needed to protect his place here in Alamut and to give Adha a chance to have actual freedom.
To clarify…
He didn’t mind being the mentor of Alamut.
Being the imam was a whole different thing.
First of all, he didn’t agree with the whole fusion of mentor and imam thing.
For another, it would be a great disservice to the people for him to be the imam when he wasn’t even religious in the first place. That would pretty much make him a charlatan at that point, right?
Sure, they were meant to be a secretive organization but that didn’t mean they were supposed to lie to their own people.
Desmond understood that the mentors might think it was necessary and, when one was to think about it, Desmond was simply trying to push for the separation of the titles to be public considering Diya al-Dīn was the imam but the real mentors were his wives.
There was no need for Desmond to fuse them back together and…
Well…
Desmond liked to think that he got through to them.
Look, he was already compromising by accepting being the mentors’ successor, the least they could do was meet him halfway and find a different candidate for the next imam.
Oh, and the whole marriage with Adha thing? That has been postponed but Desmond agreed to let the rumor mill do its thing.
Not that it was doing anything that much considering Peredur’s fantasy book series (yes, they were now a series, Desmond felt so embarrassed he didn’t even bother reading any of them… yet) had pretty much…
Uh…
May have outed Desmond as…
… celibate.
So anyone who has read Peredur’s two books (and he was working on his third, dear god, someone stop this man) all came to the conclusion that Desmond had no interest in romance or sex and the rumor of him being engaged to Adha had turned into the mentor attempting to marry him off to stave of the rumors that he was celibate.
… or had problems… performing.
If anything was to ever not change about Alamut, it was the fact that the Assassins here really loved to make Desmond’s history more complicated than it really was.
Hearing the latest rumor about Desmond’s history was truly what made Desmond feel like he was back home.
The sense of embarrassment and confusion after hearing about the latest rumor going on about him that he tried to not show while he ate dinner with Hilde, Maria and Khalid felt so natural and nostalgic that Desmond honestly thought that they shouldn’t stay too late or he might have problems waking up for training tomorrow.
For a time, he actually forgot that he wasn’t a recruit anymore.
But still…
There was certain contentment in being in Alamut. As peaceful and uneventful as always…
Well…
No longer uneventful because Desmond was now an Assassin so he would sometimes be sent to cities and kingdoms under their purview.
The cities alongside the road merchants usually use, the one that would be called Silk Road centuries from now, were usually the ones that needed much attention due to how busy they always were and then there was the…
… worrying events happening around the Byzantine Empire which fell under Alamut’s purview mainly because they affect other cities and kingdoms.
Desmond had been in more than one information gathering missions around the empire as the mentors needed more information before they could come to a conclusion if they needed to act.
And before Desmond knew it…
Two more years have passed in relative peace until…
It seemed the people had reached a boiling point.
It wasn’t just the common people, Emperor Andronikos I Komnenos had made an enemy of the aristocracy as well and the Brotherhood tried to stop the impending riots.
They failed in that regard after Isaac Angelos killed Stephen Hagiochristophorites and was proclaimed the emperor while Andronikos was away.
After that, there were conflicting reports of either Andronikos had been killed by a mob or if he had managed to escape.
The Assassin team that had been in the middle of it at that time managed to send word that Andronikos had, in fact, managed to escape thanks to some individuals with ties to the kings of Jerusalem and the other kingdom and fiefdoms under the rule of what many call the invaders.
Desmond didn’t have confirmation yet but he was sure they were Templars.
Andronikos had ties to the Templar Order.
Whether he was a Templar himself, Desmond wasn’t sure but the Order wasn’t contained in al-Sham alone. There must be some of them already in one of the kingdoms or fiefdom in al-Sham or close to al-Sham.
So Andronikos must be assassinated. Because of the horrible things he had done in his time as an emperor and, even though the Brotherhood didn’t know it yet, so that he wouldn’t be able to join forces with Robert de Sablé later on.
Of course, Desmond wasn’t completely sure and it was just one big guess on his side so…
He requested he be sent to one of the teams to find and assassinate Andronikos.
There were multiple locations to where Andronikos would escape to and Desmond was given a choice to where he would go.
So he went with his best guess…
Cyprus.
Sailing to Cyprus itself was dangerous. The self-proclaimed ruler of Cyprus, Isaac Doukas Komnenos, was not a good man. There were rumors that he had ordered his men to pillage and violate the women of Cyprus when he rose to power but…
Cyprus was not under their Brotherhood’s jurisdiction. His fate lies on the whims of Rashid.
Which meant…
The assassination of Andronikos had become a joint venture between Alamut and Masyaf. Rashid had agreed that a cruel man like Andronikos must be taken out but…
He didn’t know that Desmond and his team would be sent to Cyprus as informants but the truth was the two Assassins with Desmond were the only ones to be sent to Cyprus as informants.
One of them was Markos who had only been initiated early this year and the other was an older Assassin who would be training Markos.
This was a risky plan. Depending on how dire things in Cyprus becomes, it was possible the two of them would be unable to contact Alamut at all and be isolated in Cyprus, left to fend for themselves until Alamut send reinforcement.
And, as far as Masyaf was concerned, there was no Assassin stationed in Cyprus.
They landed in Cyprus early morning, pretending to be traveling merchants wearing the unassuming robes of informants for the Brotherhood.
Desmond could feel the heat bearing down on him as he kept his Assassin robes underneath the informant robes he wore. A foolish decision perhaps but it was a decision that he made because he was a stubborn dumbass.
They made their base of operation in Markos’ home, another risky decision that Desmond hoped would not screw them over later on.
After that, they split to cover more grounds.
Markos would start reconnecting with old friends and families, try to built a network for future endeavours.
The other Assassin would scope out the nearby areas and get a feel of the land while looking for a building that would be a good place to set up a bureau.
While Desmond started his true mission in Cyprus.
Find any evidence of Andronikos and assassinate him if he was in Cyprus…
The most populated area in Cyprus was Nikusiya but Desmond doubted Andronikos would stay there. That was where Isaac Doukas Komnenos stayed and he had assumed that Isaac Doukas Komnenos would want Andronikos dead as much as the Byzantine people did.
He was wrong.
Hearing the gossips of the sudden influx of guards in a supposed second home of Isaac Doukas Komnenos, Desmond wondered if Andronikos and Isaac had brokered some kind of deal to give Andronikos asylum?
Perhaps in exchange of safety, Andronikos agreed to finally acknowledge Cyprus as under Isaac’s control and no longer part of the Byzantine Empire.
That was such a crazy move that would lead to…
Well…
Andronikos already had a lot of people looking to put his head on a spike anyway so Desmond wouldn’t be entirely surprised if Andronikos just decided to burn more bridges just to survive and bide his time to find the power and resources to take back the throne.
He connected with Aquila to scout the perimeter and there were ten guards currently stationed in the perimeter and outside the supposedly empty second home. And more reds were inside, most probably guarding the interior and resting for the next shift.
It would be an understatement to call it a home at this point.
It looked more like a second story fortress but he found a few entry point that he could slip in during the changing of the guards.
From there, he could-
“Brother.”
Desmond froze as the voice of the young man behind him.
A voice that he recognized even though it sounded a bit younger than he was used to.
Desmond turned around slowly and tried to keep his voice as calm as he could as he greeted, “Safety and peace, brother.”
“Ah, good. You are one of our informants.” The Assassin gave a small sigh of relief before he said, “The master informed me that there should be an informant here that can assist me.”
His lips curved into a grin as he commented, “But you are one sneaky man, friend. I spent half the day just trying to find you.”
“Forgive me, brother.” Desmond bowed slightly as he continued, “I had spent the day looking for information that might help the Brotherhood.”
“Then…” The Assassin’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look at the building Desmond had been scouting and asked, “He’s there then? Andronikos?”
“I cannot say for certain but the sudden influx of guards happened during the time that Andronikos would have reached this place as soon as he left the empire.” Desmond explained his reasoning, “And this is Isaac’s second home so it should be empty right now.”
“Interesting.” The Assassin rubbed his chin before he asked, “What have you found out?”
“Ten guards stationed outside, I’m unsure how many more are inside. If Andronikos is there, he’s most probably on the second floor.” … where there were more guards stationed but he couldn’t exactly explain how he knew that without revealing Aquila and his Eagle Vision, “… that’s where the bedrooms are located I believe.”
The Assassin nodded and turned to look at Desmond as he said, “Thank you, friend. I will take it from here.”
“I can provide assistance if you’d like?” Desmond suggested. The Assassin raised one eyebrow and Desmond suggested, “I can make a distraction, try to lure some of the men away and give you a better chance to infiltrate from the other side. Of course, that would give you only a few seconds before the guards inside would be think something is wrong.”
The Assassin thought about it for only a second before he grinned as he said, “I’d appreciate any help I can get.”
“Got it. Wait by the back. You’ll know when my distraction will start.” Desmond said vaguely, making the Assassin look at him with a curious look before nodding.
“Alright.” The Assassin was about to walk away but stopped as he said, “My name is Rauf.”
“Vega.” Desmond said briefly.
Rauf nodded as he said, “Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Vega. Be careful, alright?”
“That should be my line.” Desmond dryly stated, making Rauf laugh.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Desmond had a lot of options for a distraction.
The best way to distract them would be to just blow something up.
But Rauf was here and he’d definitely report to Rashid about an informant who used explosions as a distraction.
Not only that, Desmond was sure that the name ‘Vega’ would sooner or later make its way into Rashid’s ears.
He managed to evade Rashid for the first two years since he was initiated because Lambsar Castle was pretty isolated but that would be changing soon enough.
They’ve made sure to only call Desmond by his real name whenever he didn’t have his shemagh hiding his face. As far as they know, Vega was just another one of the Assassins in Alamut…
And Desmond would like to keep it that way. His identity as Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad was already stuck with Diya al-Dīn’s plans to adopt him and name him his successor but, as long as Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad didn’t appear in any outrageous reports that fall in Rashid’s hands, Rashid would most probably ignore him and only see him as the successor of a weak Brotherhood.
That would all fall apart if Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad showed up to be a great Assassin too.
Not that he was saying he was great anyway…
What Desmond was saying was that he was using the name Vega to make sure any missions he does would be pointed away from his real identity.
But that didn’t mean he could just screw around willy-nilly as Vega.
The best way to stay out of Rashid’s radar was to be as unremarkable as possible.
So…
He set fire to a nearby guard outpost.
The good thing about the location of that guard outpost was that it was two buildings to the right of the vacation home. Most definitely intentional to make it faster and easier to get reinforcement if necessary but also…
It meant Desmond didn’t feel bad setting fire to a building.
He checked too. The building on the other side was empty, most probably its owner had left or had been ‘kicked out’ when the guard outpost had been created. The building between them? It belonged to another high ranking official that was firmly allied with Isaac so Desmond didn’t mind if it also got damaged.
It didn’t.
The guards managed to contain the fire and some of the guards in both the building between them and the building where Andronikos was supposed to be staying rushed over to help because it would definitely be bad if the fire spread.
By the time the fire had been completely snuffed out, Rauf found him keeping watch from the rooftop of a building two blocks away.
“Was he there?” Desmond asked curiously and Rauf showed him a feather drenched in blood. Desmond hummed before he nodded at Rauf, “I’m glad to hear that your blade struck true, brother.”
“It was all thanks to your masterful plan.” Rauf said with a grin, making Desmond raise an eyebrow at him.
“I set fire to a guard outpost. That’s not really a masterful plan at all.” Desmond reminded him, making Rauf chuckle.
“Still, it worked, didn’t it?” Rauf asked as he continued to grin.
“Of course. I made sure to pick the most flammable room to start the fire, after all.” Desmond said lightly before he turned to look back at the smoking building, “Will you be leaving Cyprus then?”
“Yes. I will report to the Rafiq in Acre.” Rauf informed him, making Desmond hum once more.
That was the main reason why there was no bureau here in Cyprus. Every mission in Cyprus fell under Acre bureau’s purview in the eyes of Masyaf.
“Then I’ll see you around, Rauf.” Desmond said with a nod.
Rauf nodded back as he said, “You take care of yourself, Vega.”
“I always do.” Desmond replied lightly as he jumped down. He could feel Rauf’s eyes follow him as he blended in the crowd but he didn’t acknowledge it.
As far as the world was concerned, Andronikos died in the Hippodrome of Constantinople. Desmond learned later on that the man that had taken Andronikos’ place was his double who was captured while Andronikos managed to escape to Cyprus.
Desmond himself stayed for a few months in Cyprus to help Markos set up the bureau. It was not really a bureau, not in the eyes of Masyaf anyway. He supposed the closest word for it would be a safe house that the Brotherhood could use.
During that time, Peredur and Rahim joined him in Cyprus to help out and so that Desmond would have a team with him when he sail out of Cyprus.
His stay in Cyprus lasted only for three months then he returned to Alamut with Peredur and Rahim where he continued his studies with the mentors and began his shadowing of Diya al-Dīn.
Diya al-Dīn continued to teach him all of his responsibilities as both the imam and the supposed mentor but they didn’t say anything about Desmond’s actual future.
Desmond believed them when they said that they would find a way to compromise but Desmond was still waiting for their… well…
What they plan to do, essentially.
Two year later…
On February 24th, 1187…
Jalāl al-Dīn Ḥasan III was born.
He was called a miracle for the three wives of Diya al-Dīn had tried for so many years to get pregnant.
To Desmond…
He was just a little baby with a red face and chubby cheeks.
He was so small and light, Desmond had feared he would drop him when he first held him.
Dvora had to adjust his hold on the baby twice before she was satisfied that Desmond wouldn’t actually drop him.
Raiza and Diya al-Dīn were with Nur right now, making sure she was alright and comfortable while Dvora and Desmond stayed in Jalāl al-Dīn’s nursery.
“Don’t do that.” Desmond whispered when Dvora poked the baby’s cheek, making the baby’s face scrunch up.
“I can’t help it. His cheek looks so plump.” Dvora slowly moved her finger once more and Desmond glared at her.
“If he cries, you’re the one who has to make him stop.”
Dvora paused and stared at Desmond’s glare for a moment before she dropped her hand. Desmond lowered his head to stare back at Jalāl and whispered, “How’s Nur?”
“This had taken a toll on her body so we’ll have to keep a close eye on her for a while.” Dvora whispered back, resting her back against the back of the chair as she continued, “But we’re optimistic that she’ll make a full recovery.”
“That’s good.” Desmond whispered back.
“Jalāl will be raised to be the next imam.”
Desmond raised his head to stare at Dvora who was staring at him with a small smile, “The Brotherhood will still fall to you but…”
Dvora lightly caressed the baby’s head, making the baby let out a small sigh, as she said, “We’ll greatly appreciate it if you also support this child the best you can. Not as the mentor of the Brotherhood but as his older brother.”
Desmond’s hands slightly trembled at those words before he nodded.
“I…”
Had this been their plan? Why they tried so hard to have a child? Even going as far as request different medicine from traveling merchants for anything that may help?
Was this child meant to be the compromise that Desmond was waiting for?
Did he inadvertently pushed a child into taking a position that he didn’t want?
No.
The mentors of Alamut didn’t end with Diya al-Dīn.
They were always meant to have a child that would succeed them.
Even if Desmond wasn’t here…
Even if Desmond was to leave…
All that would happen would be that this child would be the one to take his place.
And Desmond…
“Yeah.”
Desmond looked at the baby…
No.
At his younger brother…
As he said…
“I’ll look after him.”
Author’s note (a bit of a rant because I need to get this off my chest, holy shit, what the fuck - had to put it here 'cause AO3 says it's too long to put in the end notes):
Sorry, guys. I know I’m late but things have been hectic as hell for the past week. In a nutshell, I got hit by a truck and woke up in some weird place where people keep calling me the chosen one to save the world from this demon king hellbent on taking over the world.
So yeah… I’ve apparently been isekai’ed by the goddamn truck-kun. I think it was shipping rice grains or something which is weird af since it’s not yet harvesting month but that’s beside the point.
Anyway, this cute girl who is apparently the daughter of the king that summoned me became my guide and gave me a tour of the castle and told me everything I need to know about this world (I’m gonna skip all that part because, my god, it sounds like they just copy-pasted the most popular isekai light novels published, I’m soooo embarrassed being the chosen one of this world, ngl, also I still haven't found my OP skill yet unless being able to predict the plot is supposed to be it which, if it is, fuck you isekai gods, give me something else!) and she’s really cute and sweet and I’m thinking “oh, I’m in a harem isekai” and I’m like… totally okay with that but Imma wait for the pink-haired girl and pray to the isekai gods that she’s not a tsundere.
Then I met him.
Holy shit.
Blond hair. Green eyes. Clad in white and with a face that just screamed ‘male love interest’ written all over him.
And he’s the illegitimate son of the king so he has a chip on his shoulder with that prince charming smile and politeness that just screams “SUS! ABSOLUTELY SUS!” no matter how much I look at it.
And I’m like… he’s gonna be my rival, right? Or something?
Then there was a banquet to celebrate my summoning and, for a kingdom that’s supposed to be in hot waters because of a demon army or something, all these rich folks- oh, sorry, these nobles seemed to be doing well and looking fine.
And the dress they gave me? Absolutely gorgeous. I would describe it but you guys know I suck at describing clothes and shit.
You might be thinking, oh shit, oh shit, this is sounding familiar, and you would be right, my dear readers (or whoever else is still reading this rant or summary or whatever this is meant to be called). I have made a mistake…
And that was drilled into my brain when he arrived.
The Arch Duke of the North, known as the Bloodthirsty Monster of the Northern Winter.
Black hair.
Red eyes.
Clad in black and gold…
With a really ornate obviously OP sword on his side.
It is as you and I have feared.
I am not in a harem isekai story.
I am in an isekai story with two male love interest.
Oh god.
They called me the chosen one but I hear the other name for me.
Saintess.
And, of course, the real love interest has to be the dark haired dude, right? This is how these stories go.
And I was right because the night after the party? I got kidnapped.
Yup.
And these masked dudes all want me to awaken this supposed weapon of mass destruction or something and I’m like… yeah, okay, because I was planning on using it to take them down.
This world might have messed up my moral compass or something, who knows.
Anyway, turns out this weapon of mass destruction is my laptop! I don’t know how it got to this world and I don’t know why it has wifi and the battery is the infinity sign right now but I have access to my dropbox and I’m still logged in to my AO3 account so the August Birthday MegaPosting Bash (I still don’t remember what I call it) is STILL ON!
So I hope you enjoyed this new chapter and, yes, the next chapter will be up on Aug 28 as I promise. Not even this goddamn war that smells of absolute bullshit will keep me from writing and posting!
Edit: I’ve been getting comments asking if I’m okay and stuff so I’m adding this now. Yes, I’m okay. I was saved by this white-haired mage dude who told me that the power of the saintess inside me is slowly killing me. He probably thinks I’ve, like, reached nirvana or whatever with how I took the news but this world has been very predictable for a while now so I’m sure there’s gonna be some cure or another. Maybe with the main ml which I think is the black-haired arch duke or whatever he was. I’m gonna write it here now: If that duke turns out to be half-demon or the actual demon king, I called it right here!
Edit-edit: Holy shit. Oh my god. Oh dear god. The duke has an Assassin squad who saved me from this pretty weirdass mage and one of them has dark curly hair and gold eyes. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Fuck. Send help.
#it’s funny that this happened#the day i will be hours late from my usual posting schedule because irl stuff #but i promise i haven’t been isekai’ed #you know what would be funny? #if this is the author’s note i put in the next chapter of #ac fic: eagle of alamut
(Just to be clear, this update is late is because we celebrated my birthday last night, not because I got isekai'ed. This happened because of this Tumblr post and TheDragonQueen1998 commented that I should add this to this chapter XD)
Notes:
ANNOUNCEMENT:
To celebrate Arno's birthday, I have posted:
> Ouverture, a Yew Branch oneshot in the same branch as Clay's A New Way To Do Things
> A short Desmond x Arno smut as part of my Desmond should top... as a treat agenda this year
(Please note that if you plan to read both, I would suggest reading the smut first XD)ANNOUNCEMENT:
Next update will be on Aug 28 which will mark the LAST update for the month AND the finale of the August MegaPosting Birthday Bash (or whatever this was supposed to be called, I really can't remember)! There's... uuuuhhh... gonna be a lot? Sorta. Maybe. XD
Chapter 32
Notes:
Uuuhhh… just wanted to clarify. My birthday wasn’t last week, it’s today, August 28. XD
We celebrated it last week because… it’s Monday and that means work XD
Anyway, hope you enjoy this one as well :)Edit (09/04): Thank you bakasheep for telling me I made a mistake with the name. it's Raynald of Châtillon, not Richard of Châtillon. I mixed him up with Richard the Lionheart. I've updated this chapter with the correct name now :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Even though Alamut was as peaceful as always, everyone knew that the world outside was still the same as always.
And Desmond could feel it.
Something big was about to happen.
It wasn’t just the many reports and rumors they managed to get their hands on…
Desmond didn’t completely remember it but he could an uneasiness coming from the remnants of his Bleed of Altaïr.
And Desmond had a feeling that he knew what it was.
… The battle for Jerusalem.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was slowly gaining more and more territory these past few years and had gotten Ḥalab four years ago.
Desmond knew that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would take Jerusalem from the crusaders but he couldn’t remember when that would happen but this…
It looked like the stage was being set already.
They just received word that Raynald of Châtillon had raided a Hajj caravan even though they had a truce with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn for the past 2 years that should still be honored.
There were also rumors that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s sister had been in that caravan and was the actual target of Raynald’s attack but they could not verify that rumor.
Regardless, whispers of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn preparing his army for violating the truce had reached as far as Alamut and the Brotherhood didn’t even need to pay any traveling merchants for that information.
Any merchant staying in Alamut had stories they were more than willing to share to anyone who would ask.
The stories varied, of course, and many of them were heavily embellished to that point that they could not be taken seriously anymore.
And that was why…
“Just observe?” Desmond asked as he sat with the mentors in the garden in the harem. Jalāl made cooing sounds as he gripped the red fabric of Desmond’s shemagh but he didn’t pay it any mind, staring at the three mentors as they all sat in the center of the garden. The rug and pillows around them were soft and comfortable but Desmond couldn’t even appreciate them thanks to the tense atmosphere around them.
“That’s right.” Raiza confirmed as she kept her attention on Desmond, “Jerusalem is under Rashid’s purview. We cannot recklessly make any moves even if we want to.”
“And we cannot move at the moment.” Nur continued, adjusting the pillow underneath her with a slight wince, “What we need most of all is information. The battle between the crusaders and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s army could very well be the tipping point to set the entire land in the fires of war.”
“This truce was never meant to last and we will need information most of all if we wish to try and predict its flow.” Dvora continued as she helped Nur get more comfortable. Nur nodded at her silently while Dvora said, “Rashid will not give us all the details in any of the reports he would send. That is why it’s important that we have someone we trust to see this battle through.”
“And that’s why you’re sending me?” Desmond asked.
“And only you.” Raiza added solemnly, “Sending more than one Assassin is too risky right now. Rashid would certainly send his own children there and you need to see what they’re doing as well.”
“So you want me to observe the battle itself and spy on Rashid's Assassins.” Desmond said with a frown, “Because you want to see which side Rashid would support.”
“That’s right.” Raiza nodded before she said, “We cannot be certain if Rashid would support Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn but that is the most likely thing to happen. However, the truce Rashid has with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn could just as easily fall apart right now if he was to cast his die with the crusaders. If that happens…”
“Alamut would be seen as an enemy of the people of this land as well.” Desmond realized as his face darkened, “Because the actions of Rashid’s Assassins will reflect on us.”
All three mentors nodded at Desmond and Desmond froze when Raiza placed a vial in front of him.
“If Rashid sent an Assassin to support the crusaders, you must eliminate him without it being traced back to us.”
It was poison.
No. It wasn’t just that.
“Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn must not find any evidence that the Brotherhood assisted or tried to assist the crusaders at all.”
It was aconite.
The same aconite poison that Desmond and Khalid had perfected during their time in Lambsar Castle.
There was a lot of routes Desmond could take to observe Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s and the crusaders’ forces.
Pretending to be a soldier was not one of them.
It would be easy to mistake that it would give him the best view of everything that was happening but that would be wrong.
Soldiers only see what was around them. It would be hard for them to see the bigger picture.
The best seat would actually be as one of the servants or guards close to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn or Raynald. A person who act more like furniture during strategic meetings.
Because it was during those strategic meetings that the flow of information would be most condensed.
But that would be nigh high impossible.
For one, the ones that can stay in meetings were those who had shown their loyalty to their master.
An unknown servant or guard replacing any of them?
That would always be suspicious.
So Desmond had to go for the next best route available to him.
Tiberias.
Tiberias and Galilee were one of two fiefdoms that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had to pass through to get to Jerusalem and Desmond managed to reach Tiberias just after Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn and his army had left Galilee after a meeting with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s envoy and the ruler of Tiberias. Everyone in Tiberias were on edge, waiting for their lord’s decisions.
Desmond slipped into the shadows of the alleyways, near the gates and watched as the guards close the gates and barricade it. More soldiers were rushing everywhere and many of them were ordering the men and women to go to the keep while the men were taken somewhere else.
Most probably to be given an armor and a weapon…
They weren’t planning to aid the crusaders that were about to fight Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s army but…
Desmond could see that the current lord of Tiberias, Raymond, was taking in all the possibilities that had the highest chance of happening.
If Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn loses, they were planning to cut off his escape route to return to the graces of the crusaders in Jerusalem.
Or…
If Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn wins and either Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would honor their truce and agreement to leave Tiberias alone or Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would turn his eyes on Tiberias and take it as well to expand his territories and secure his supply route.
Tiberias would be pulled into this regardless on which side would win and two of those three possibilities were dangerous for Tiberias.
Because of that, they were placing their bets on the crusaders either winning or being able to attack Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn once more in a pincer attack together with them.
Desmond…
Desmond could only remember that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would win and take Jerusalem.
He didn’t know when nor did he have any memories on how he did it and which lands would be affected but he knew that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s victory over Jerusalem as well as other lands under crusader control would be the trigger that would push for the Third Crusades to begin.
A part of him wanted to go to Jerusalem and look for setti. To find her and take her to safety, maybe even take her back to Alamut but he had to have faith that she would be safe with the Assassins in Jerusalem.
Desmond had no memories of the Jerusalem bureau being in danger during this time and he knew he was being optimistic but…
That was all he could do right now.
Because he needed to stay in Tiberias…
Tiberias was close enough to get good information about what was happening without the same level of security the camps of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s forces and the crusaders would have.
Honestly, calling them crusaders weren’t exactly right right now but the Brotherhood had been calling them crusaders ever since to show their ‘origin’.
Even though… many of the people now in Jerusalem had been born there…
Just like the people here in Tiberias.
Worse comes to worst, he could help in evacuating the civilians.
Things were worse than Desmond had expected.
It had been easy to slip into Raymond’s residence with more ease than usual, taking advantage of the time they had to escort guests there. One was Balian of Ibelin who was the lord of House Ibelin, one of the vassals houses of Jerusalem, and the archbishops of Tyre and Nazareth. He managed to slip into the retinue of the archbishops, his informant robes managing to blend into the white robes of the servants of the archbishops.
From there, he kept his head down and stayed as close as he could and pretended to be a servant of the church in Tiberias sent to assist them when one of the servants asked who he was. They didn’t question it any further because the meeting was starting and everyone needed to do their job as all the archbishops and lords looked ready to execute anyone who makes even just one minor mistake.
Things were looking really bad.
Balian had accused Raymond of conspiring with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn and that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had offered to make him an independent king for the Franks once and for all which Raymond vehemently denied.
The archbishops scolded him like a child, calling his actions as a religious betrayal that would burn his soul to damnation.
Raymond managed to keep a calm facade but Desmond could see him breaking already.
And then they informed him that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had won the battle in the Spring of the Cresson near Nazareth, Raymond’s surprise was not sincere at all.
That was when Desmond realized that Raymond had anticipated that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would win and was betting on it from the very beginning.
And then…
The archbishops threatened to excommunicate him and to annul his marriage.
That was what got Raymond to succumb to their pressure for Raymond to kill the Saracen soldiers stationed in Tiberias and to pay homage to Guy of Lusignan, the current king of Jerusalem.
Desmond left the meeting together with the archbishops and his retinue but slipped away as soon as he could, staying in the shadows to wait for another chance to look around.
It came sooner than he had expected.
“Are you insane!?” Eschiva of Bures, the wife of Raymond and Princess of Galilee, shouted at her husband as servants helped him prepare to…
“You’re leaving Tiberias?” Eschiva hissed as she looked around the room, none of them even looking a second look at the window where Desmond was holding on to. It was really lucky that Raymond’s private chambers were located high enough that none of the guards would see him and the castle was old enough that there were enough cracks he could use as platforms for his feet. He pulled himself up so he could peek inside and everyone was focused on their tasks while keeping their heads down to not get the attention of the ‘quarreling’ couple. Eschiva waved her hand towards the window and Desmond ducked just to be sure no one would see him.
Honestly, it would have been better if Aquila would be his eyes and ears right now but an eagle just sitting pretty in a window sill? Yeah… that would have been super suspicious and they would either shoot him down or shoo him away.
Probably the former.
So Aquila was keeping watch and would cry out if he see anyone about to find Desmond or if someone would do something he believed Desmond should know about.
And now, Desmond could only keep quiet and listen as she continued, “Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn won and you’ve read the reports of how large his army was! Our truce with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn is what’s keeping us safe.”
“We are dutybound-”
“Don’t lie to me!” She shouted and Desmond slowly peeked once more and saw that all the servants had their heads bowed and had stepped away from the couple, hands clasped together in front of them and staying as still as statues. Eschiva poked her husband as she hissed, “We made a deal with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn. Once he has taken over the Kingdom of Jerusalem, he would grant you the title of king which is more than what Guy would ever do to us!”
“The archbishops threatened to excommunicate me and to annul our marriage!” Raymond hissed back and she simply rolled her eyes as she walked away from Raymond.
“Oh, of course! A priest threatened you eternal damnation and you bow your head to the ground like the spineless coward you are!” Eschiva turned around just in time to see Raymond take a step towards her with his hand raised. She took a step towards him and goaded him, “Go ahead. Strike me if you dare. Go on.”
Raymond paused for a moment before he lowered his hand, making Eschiva scoff as she turned around and crossed her arms, “As spineless as usual. That’s why I told you to just leave everything to me.”
Eschiva turned to glare at her husband as she ordered, “Capture them and give them to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.”
Raymond’s eyes widened at those words and Desmond couldn’t help but copy the widening of his eyes at such… audacity.
“Are you insane?!” Raymond hissed the same question that his wife had shouted at him before, “Jerusalem-”
“Jerusalem will fall.” Eschiva stated, “Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s army will win and they’ll take Jerusalem. If we want to keep our people safe… if you want to keep your power, you will stay with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.”
“You’ve gone mad.” Raymond shook his head before turning to face one of his guards, “Take the queen to her room and locked her in.”
“You’ll kill us all!” Eschiva shouted as a guard walked towards her, reaching out to her.
“I am trying to keep us all safe!”
“The only way we can be safe is if we bend the knees and pledge our allegiance to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn!”
“I will not betray my-”
“Your what? Your countrymen? Your God?” Eschiva slapped the guard’s hand away as she warned, “Try to touch me again and I will have your hand chopped off and fed to the dogs.”
The guard actually stepped aside while Eschiva turned to glare at Raymond, “But I know when it’s time to retreat.”
Eschiva began to walk out of the room with her head held high but she stopped by the door, turning to look at Raymond as she said, “I have already sent the men from the Saracen garrison away.”
She used her fan to cover her lower face, her light-colored eyes narrowing as she said, “I’m sure that they’re long gone by now. It would simply be a waste of manpower to send soldiers to chase them.”
“Eschiva…” Raymond growled at her.
“Have a safe trip, husband dear.” Eschiva’s words dripped with venom as she continued, “I will pray for your safe journey.”
With that said, Eschiva walked out of the room.
And Desmond immediately jumped to the next window and slipped inside, knowing it would lead him to the dead end that would lead back to the hallway that Eschiva would be traversing. Desmond rushed to hide behind one of the pillars as Eschiva just passed him together with her maids-in-waiting. He began to follow them as she mumbled, “… an idiot. He’s just as stupid as King Amalric but I supposed that’s to be expected from the man that stupid king had given me to.”
“Milady, it would be dangerous if anyone was to hear you.” One of her maids whispered and she scoffed.
“And what will they do? Kill me?” Eschiva huffed, “They can’t afford to kill me right now.”
They entered another room and Desmond waited until they closed the door before he quickly but quietly walked towards the door. He went on one knee and pressed his ear against the door, listening in as Eschiva continued, “… cannot see the full picture. Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn has enough men to take over Jerusalem and more city-states if he wants to. They’re all blinded by this male fantasy of theirs that they’re more superior to the Saracens. They can’t even see that there is no way the old man of the mountains will not act to support Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn against them.”
“We must make all the necessary preparations.” Eschiva said and her words grew quieter, making Desmond blink to activate his Eagle Vision. He focused on heightening his sense of hearing just in time to hear Eschiva say, “Once my dear husband and all those men are all gone, inform those loyal to me that we will proceed as we have planned. We will keep our gates closed until Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn returns. Once Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn is close, we will send an envoy to tell him that we will surrender Tiberias to him in exchange for the safety of our people.”
“Milady, if King Guy was to learn of this…”
“We’ll tell Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn to make a show of it. Have my dear husband’s loyal ‘knights’ attack Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn first to give a show that there was a siege. What matters is that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn must understand that we are on his side. That Tiberias is on his side.”
“Yes, milady.”
Before Desmond could hear anything more, he heard footsteps…
Coming to his direction.
He used his Eagle Vision to look around and hissed when he realized that Raymond and his retinue had left his room and was walking in his direction.
That meant he couldn’t return to the dead end where there was a window he could hide out off.
Left with no choice, Desmond ran to the other direction, using his Eagle Vision to check for a hiding place he could use.
That was when the door just next to the private chambers of Eschiva opened and someone grabbed Desmond by the fabric of his robes, just by his right chest and quickly pulled him into the room.
The door closed behind him and Desmond’s instincts took over and he was about to use the back of his hand to hit the hand currently gripping his robes when his brain finally caught up to him.
His surprise made him lose his already precarious balance and he fell on top of the man who had pulled him to safety.
They both fell on the floor with Desmond needing to place both of his hands on the other side of man’s face.
Their eyes met and Desmond’s light brown eyes widened…
As Altaïr’s golden eyes stared back at him.
Notes:
Alright, people! This is the 'big' finale of the August Birthday MegaPosting Bash (or whatever this was meant to be called)!
Other than this chapter where Altaïr has finally appeared, have:
> The second chapter of A Welcoming Darkness that's 10k with smut sprinkled all over set in Desmond's POV
> A new AC fic Möbius that's Desmond-centric where Desmond wakes up in a world too similar to his own but too different in so many ways
> The series Teecup Tumblr Fic Ideas/Requests/Prompts have been updated with most of the posts from November 2022. There's like... 13 of them but they're all pretty short (some even less than 100 words) XD
Chapter 33
Notes:
We going for the a different POV in the beginning because… uuuhh, I feel like that would give you guys more backstory XD
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Aquila had been born the smallest of four and it didn’t take him long to realize that this was an ‘each chick for themselves’ kind of world.
So he worked his best in being the most annoying nuisance in their nest, using his small body to his advantage.
What he had lacked in weight and strength, he made up with speed.
He learned to steal food from his own siblings and wobble away from them as he gobbled the food as fast as he could.
Mother always brought enough for everyone but Aquila still stole more and ate more.
So when the biggest of them, his own sister, moved and tried to raise her head after their nest shook for quite a while, Aquila let instinct take over and slammed his sister out of the way.
He expected to be given food.
Instead…
He was given Desmond.
Desmond was the best.
Desmond was his favorite father and his dear mother.
Old Man Bennu would scold him and always told him to act more regal or whatever but Desmond only told him to be careful and to not get caught so it was obvious that Desmond was a better parent than Old Man Bennu and Mother.
With Desmond’s care and love, Aquila’s feathers were simply the best. He might still be smaller than the rest of his siblings but he was faster than them and he was given food and water any time he wanted.
He had to learn how to communicate with Desmond but that was fine.
Desmond was a quick learner.
And he knew that his siblings were jealous of him. Of course they were!
But Desmond was his and no one could say otherwise.
Of course, Desmond would be lost without him too!
That was why Aquila followed him around and made sure that he knew that Aquila was there for him.
Feeling Desmond connect with him was always a bit strange but there was this warmth that enveloped Aquila that always reminded him of Desmond.
It was like… being wrapped in Desmond’s arms which he used to do when Aquila was still an eaglet.
Not anymore though!
Because Aquila was a strong independent bird who didn’t need any man!
But Desmond needed him so he stayed with Desmond anyway.
… Plus Desmond was simply the best.
And he always gave the most delicious reward when Aquila would do a good job.
Not that he ever did a bad job, after all.
Aquila always did a good job!
And that was why he was circling around the castle that Desmond had infiltrated, checking for any movements that Desmond should know that was happening in the perimeter of the castle.
Nothing yet.
Aquila had spent years watching how humans guard and patrol when they were in Alamut and Lambsar Castle.
There were a few gaps on the patrol routes that Desmond could take if he needed a quick exit but Aquila could just show those to Desmond when they connect later on.
All in all, no one seemed to be moving strangely.
It was honestly boring.
Aquila hoped Desmond would be finished with his mission already so they could return home.
Old Man Bennu always nagged him for making Desmond feed him but Granny Raiza did that to him too!
And the meat in the grannies’ home were always so juicy and he always get all grouchy whenever Aquila visited and got a few bites from Granny Nur.
…
The dry meat Desmond prepared was still the best though.
They were just perfectly spiced and dried just right-
Aquila let out a surprised cry as sharp pain erupted on his back, making him plummet a feet or so before he could flap his wings once more to keep his altitude.
He shook off the sudden weight on his back and turned around to stare at his attacker.
Feathers as brown as Old Man Bennu but with gray flight feathers…
And white feathers forming a V shape on her face that crossed her golden eyes…
Aquila knew it was possible he was wrong but…
She looked too similar…
And that glare…
That glare that had always followed his every move ever since he got Desmond.
It was his sister.
There was no doubt about it.
The strongest and biggest of the four of them.
… and the one who disappeared six years ago…
Before Aquila could make a sound, his sister flew above him before…
Diving straight to him, talons at the ready.
Very sharp talons…
The same talons she had used to attack him from behind and…
They fricking hurt!
So much!
Was he bleeding?!
He felt like he was bleeding!
Desmond!!!
Aquila let gravity help his escape, diving straight to the ground.
Just as he expected, his sister was hot on his tail, changing her position to copy him, wings closed to their body as they plummet to the ground head first.
Aquila knew Desmond was on the fifth floor of the castle so he just had to time it co-
What the fuck.
She was already next to him, her golden eyes glaring at him as if to mock him for thinking that he could escape her.
But he will!
Aquila smacked her with one of his wing, making her squawk in surprise as she didn’t expect such an underhanded attack.
Underhanded?
Hah!
Desmond told him to use everything he can to survive and that was what he was going to do.
Using the momentum of his smack, he twisted his body and flew straight to the open window where he knew Desmond would be.
She was already chasing after him and gaining speed fast.
Aquila knew that was going to happen. He always gain more speed whenever he flew behind Old Man Bennu and he was sure she was doing the same trick.
It was so close.
The window was so close.
Desmon-!
Aquila let out a cry of pain as he felt her talons dig into his back, aiming for the same wounds she had already inflicted before.
He turned around to face her as he dragged her to the window, using his own talon to fend her off as he let out loud cries of pain and anger while she remained silent.
As silent as she had ever been when they were chicks.
But they weren’t chicks anymore.
And Aquila-!
Aquila’s father would kick her ass!
Desmond’s mind was repeating the same thing over and over again.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
What the hell was Altaïr doing here?
Should he even be here?
He didn’t have any memories of Altaïr ever being here!
What the hell was happening???
And then his second thought that was just echoing in the background was…
He looked tired.
There were dark circles under his eyes and…
He looked thinner than someone their age should be.
Unable to stop himself, he placed one hand on Altaïr’s cheek, seeing him freeze as his eyes widened.
Were his eyes…
Always this dull?
Desmond knew that he never really saw Altaïr much in his own memories as he didn’t like to look at reflections.
But still…
Desmond remembered thinking Altaïr’s golden eyes were brighter than this.
Or…
Had he just been creating an Altaïr in his memories? Putting him in a pedestal?
Altaïr wasn’t a Master Assassin yet.
He was still…
The pained cry from Aquila caught Desmond’s attention and he looked up just in time to see Aquila and another eagle rolling in midair as they come crashing to the room…
And towards Desmond.
Desmond stood and ran towards Aquila. He used the leather bracer of his right arm to block the talon aimed for Aquila’s chest and pushed the enemy eagle away. The eagle flew to the other end of the room while Desmond cradled Aquila in his left arm, gently hushing the pained cooing sounds Aquila made as Desmond looked at his wounds.
And…
Found none.
There were marks where the eagle’s talons had dug into him but the most Desmond could see was the reddening of the skin underneath Aquila’s feathers. The eagle had dug its talons deep enough to hurt but not enough to draw blood.
He was sure that one time a hare had kicked Aquila on the face had been more painful to Aquila.
But still, Aquila made pained cooing sounds that made it sound like he was dying and Desmond simply whispered, “It’s okay, Aquila. It’s okay, you’re okay now. Ssshhh, don’t cry.”
That seemed to agitate the eagle and it charged at them. Desmond covered Aquila and prepared to block the bird’s talons once more but Altaïr stepped in front of him. His eyes widened when he heard Altaïr order, “Stop, Maud.”
The eagle stopped in mid-flight, flapping its wings to stay on the air as it stared at Altaïr. Altaïr stared back at it as he ordered, “Stand down.”
It let out a sound that seemed more the eagle equivalent of a growl and Altaïr growled back at it, “That’s an order. Stand. Down.”
Altaïr and the eagle stared at one another for a moment before the eagle slowly lowered to the ground, glaring at Aquila but keeping its wings near its body for once.
Altaïr turned to stare at Desmond as he asked, “Are you alright?”
“Huh?”
Altaïr grabbed Desmond’s hand which he had raised to block the eagle’s talons and looked at it as he said, “Maud attacked your arm… did she pierce your bracer?”
“Oh, no.” Desmond answered, looking over his arm just to be sure. There was the clear indentation on where her claws had dug but…
“No, she didn’t pierce it. I think she wasn’t…” Desmond turned to look at the eagle, wondering why she looked familiar for some reason, as he continued, “… attacking with her full strength.”
That made both Aquila and the eagle Altaïr called Maud squawk at him as if they were both offended by the implications of Desmond’s words.
“That’s good.” Altaïr said with relief clear in his voice.
Whatever objection both eagles had fell into deaf ears as Desmond stared at the small relieved smile that appeared on Altaïr’s face.
Desmond couldn’t even speak, his brain just…
Stopped working.
First of all, he didn’t expect Altaïr to appear here of all places but, then again, he didn’t have any vivid memories of Altaïr before 1191.
And all the memories Desmond did remember left him…
Melancholic would probably be the best word Desmond could describe it.
If Altaïr ever had a happy memory, Desmond didn’t remember it. He didn’t even remember how Altaïr felt when his first son was born or if he had any memories of being praised by his own father.
Unlike Ezio whose memories Desmond had relived for so long or Ratonhnhaké:ton whose memories he had started from when he was a happy child, Desmond’s vivid memories from Altaïr’s Bleed were only those he had relived when he had been in Vidic’s ‘care’ or the memory seals that Ezio had watched.
Any other memory that he had from Altaïr were hazy or like… short summaries given to him by the Bleed, muddled in the waters of whatever had hit his Bleeds when he had been transported to this time.
So those vivid memories?
Not one of them ever gave Desmond a memory of Altaïr smiling.
His memories of 1191 had been filled with anger, frustration, and guilt.
The memory seals that he left had been filled with…
Pain.
Loss.
Grief.
Desmond knew he had forgotten a lot of things and the memories he had gotten from his Bleed of Altaïr had taken quite a hit.
But…
Desmond could still remember it.
The anger that erupted the moment he heard who had killed Sef.
The grief that had taken hold of him for so long he had pushed Darim away.
The feeling of the world shattering all around him as he felt Maria slip away from his side.
Altaïr’s life was meant to be a tragedy.
A tragedy that was meant to be the stepping stone for the Brotherhood to move forward into the future.
Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad had always meant to be the necessary push that Ezio Auditore needed to be the prophet that Desmond Miles deserved.
And Desmond…
Desmond hated himself for understanding the reason behind it.
There were times…
When he had been in Villa Auditore…
When Altaïr’s ghost would appear in his peripheral before disappearing that Desmond wondered…
Would it have been different if Altaïr had been his prophet?
Would things had been different…
If it had been Altaïr who knew about Desmond Miles?
And then…
Juno used him to take Lucy’s life…
and Desmond saw what Altaïr’s life had become after 1191.
Everything Altaïr had done was to pave Desmond Miles’ path yet he wasn’t given any title like Ezio.
Like Ratonhnhaké:ton, his life was pushed into the direction that would help Desmond Miles without them even realizing who they were sacrificing everything for.
And Desmond…
Desmond spent these past six years trying to stay away from Altaïr.
He spent six years trying not to think about him because…
Because he knew…
He would be powerless to stop himself from interfering if he did see Altaïr.
Yet, here they were…
In a room, surrounded by people who would want them dead and would see their appearance as a sign that the Brotherhood was planning to assassinate someone in this place even though Desmond was sure that Altaïr had been sent here for the same reason as he had been…
Information.
“Um…” Desmond stared at Altaïr’s hand that still held his arm as he asked, “Can you… let go now?”
“Huh?” Altaïr blinked as he continued to stare at Desmond before he lowered his head to stare at what Desmond was staring at. He must have realized that he was still holding Desmond’s arm and he let go as he took a step back. His eyes darted to the ground as the said, “Apologies. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay.” Desmond said as he adjusted his shemagh to make sure that it would not fall down even if someone was to pull it before he whistled twice at Aquila. Aquila’s ‘woe is me’ acting fell as he stared at Desmond for a moment before he flapped his wings, resting his talons on Desmond’s shoulder.
And kept on glaring at the eagle behind Altaïr who simply glared back at him.
Desmond adjusted the sleeves of the informant robes he wore to make sure his fingers were not visible and said…
“Thank you, Assassin.” Desmond bowed slightly even as his words felt bitter as they left his lips, “My name is Vega.”
Desmond raised his head as he continued, “I am a traveling merchant and…”
“… an informant if given the right price.”
Altaïr raised his head to stare at him once more. From behind him, Maud’s eyes seemed to be trying to call out Desmond’s bullshit.
… or she was just glaring at Aquila, Desmond couldn’t be certain.
Actually…
Did Altaïr ever had an eagle?
No.
Such an important part of his life was something that Desmond should have remembered.
Unless…
Desmond turned to stare at Maud as he realized…
It was possible that Altaïr would lose her before 1191…
But did that mean…
Altaïr could also see the world in the eyes of his eagle like Desmond?
Desmond turned to look at Altaïr as he said, trying not to make it obvious that he could feel Altaïr staring at him, “Is that eagle your pet as well?”
Both eagles squawked as if offended by Desmond’s question and Aquila began to lightly tug Desmond’s hood. Not enough to actually pull it down but just enough to annoy Desmond who placed his right hand on the side of Aquila’s face to stop him.
Altaïr glanced at Maud who had considerably puffed up a bit and shook his head as he replied, “No. She just follows me around sometimes.”
Desmond didn’t sense any lies in Altaïr’s words and he was cocky enough to believe that he would know if Altaïr was to lie to him.
So…
Desmond stared at the clearly angry eagle.
Just a random eagle that was following Altaïr then?
Desmond highly doubt it.
There had to be more to the story than what Altaïr was willing to share to a…
… stranger…
“My name Altaïr, son of Umar.” Altaïr introduced himself with a slight bow, “As you have surmised, I’m an Assassin.”
Desmond hummed to make it look like he was thinking of something before he said, “Well, it seemed I have gotten myself in a pickle.”
“A pickle?” Altaïr repeated as he tilted his head.
“As you can see, I am but a humble merchant who…” Desmond leaned closer to whisper, “… thought he could get a bit of information he could sell to someone like you.”
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he leaned towards Desmond as well. Desmond froze because their faces were simply too close for it to be considered…
…
…
…
What word was Desmond looking for?
The longer Altaïr was this close to him, the more words seemed to fly out of Desmond’s mind.
But Altaïr had only just leaned closer to him…
A second ago?
A quarter to a second?
Oh god.
Desmond knew it.
He was absolutely powerless against Altaïr!
“You’re lying.”
“Huh?”
Aquila squawked and tried to peck Altaïr as he grabbed Desmond’s wrist…
His left wrist.
Maud was instantly on Altaïr’s shoulder, hitting Aquila’s face with her wing to block his attempt to peck Altaïr while Altaïr pulled Desmond close.
Both eagles flew away because of their humans’ sudden movements and Desmond placed one hand on Altaïr’s chest just to keep his balance while Altaïr placed a hand on his waist, either to keep Desmond steady or to keep him still, Desmond wasn’t sure.
It was hard to actually think about anything else as his attention was completely taken by Altaïr’s golden eyes staring at his light brown eyes with a shine that made his heart beat too quickly for his health.
“Shall we try again…”
Altaïr kept a firm grip on Desmond’s wrist although it didn’t hurt, just a constant pressure that Desmond couldn’t ignore. He raised Desmond’s wrist so they would both clearly see it as he said, “Shall we introduce ourselves again…”
Altaïr’s eyes glowed in warning as Desmond’s left hand held all the evidence that he needed to say…
“… Brother?”
Notes:
Shoutout to Ominous_Book for noticing that a chick was ‘missing’ in Aquila’s second chapter. That had been intentional as I wanted to show how Desmond’s life in Alamut had sent waves that affected Altaïr as well even after Desmond thinking (hoping) that it won’t.
Announcement!
If you're curious, I wrote a short sequel to the isekai author's notes here XDAlexanderthehawk wrote a Sylveon!Desmond AU here in AO3 based on our Sylveon!Desmond idea in Tumblr! Please give it a try and leave them some love!
(Teecup Tumblr Fic Ideas/Requests/Prompts has been updated with the remaining November 2022 and half of the December 2022 posts)
Chapter 34
Notes:
For those who didn't see my Tumblr post last week, I thought September 12 was a Monday and only realized it was a Tuesday last weekend TTATT
This week's update is today on September 12 because I'm also uploading 2 smuts (please take them as my apology fics as well) to...
> Celebrate Shay's birthday! Here's a Desmond x Shay smut in the same 'verse as the babysitter!Desmond AU as part of my "Desmond should top... as a treat" agenda for this year!
> To say fuck you to Ubisoft for making September 12 the day both Malik and Maria died, here's a Malik x Desmond x Maria threesome smut that has... a bit of plot... I guess? XDNext week, we'll be back to our usual Monday updates, I promise!
Edit (11/25/23): Thank you SherezadeS for catching my mistake in this chapter. I wrote omnipotent instead of omnipresence. XD
Chapter Text
“Brother…”
Altaïr had just called him ‘brother’.
His heart skipped a beat.
And before his mind could completely process what the word even meant in context to their identities, Desmond blurted out quickly, “We’re not brothers!”
Altaïr stared at him, his golden eyes blinking at him for a moment, before he used his grip on Desmond’s wrist to wave his left hand as if to silently remind Desmond that his missing ring finger and the hidden blade he had tried to hide were both-
Wait.
Desmond’s mind finally stopped getting distracted by Altaïr’s close proximity and finally processed the real meaning to Altaïr’s words.
He meant ‘brothers’ as in they were both Assassins.
As in… brothers-in-arms.
…
Desmond would like to dig a hole and be buried alive in it now.
“I mean-!” Desmond pulled his left hand away from Altaïr as he took a step back, momentarily surprised by Altaïr actually letting him go that easily. He hid his left hand behind him as he said, “I mean… we’re not from the same… Brotherhood…”
“Of course.” Altaïr nodded as he said, “I haven’t seen someone with such vibrant red shemagh like you in Masyaf before. And…”
Altaïr stared at Desmond and Desmond had to resist the desire to squirm under his gaze as he said, “Your eyes…”
“My eyes?”
“They’re…” Altaïr looked at the ground as he placed one hand over his mouth, “… interesting.”
Eh?
Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he said awkwardly, “Thanks?”
Desmond was unsure why Altaïr would say that.
As far as Desmond knew he had plain brown eyes. Nothing interesting about it.
Maybe they looked more amber or whiskey depending on the lighting, sure, but… they were just light brown eyes.
One of the few things he had inherited from William Miles’ wife.
Ah, Desmond didn’t really want to think about them.
Especially right now.
“Did you save me because you recognized I was an Assassin?” Desmond asked curiously, both of them simply ignoring the eagles now having a glaring contest by their shoulders.
Altaïr was quiet for a moment with an expression of deep thought.
Desmond couldn’t help but stare at him.
He was so young.
Well…
He supposed Altaïr wasn’t exactly that young anymore but…
He still haven’t completely mastered his facial expression.
Huh?
Shouldn’t Altaïr already mastered it by now?
By this age, Altaïr should already be able to keep his face blank.
As far as Desmond remembered, Altaïr’s poker face was one of the things that he had been able to do since he was young.
“You were blue.”
Desmond tilted his head at that explanation and Altaïr seemed to realize that Desmond was asking for him to clarify because he added, “You glowed blue in my Vision.”
Well…
Of course, he would.
It was Altaïr, after all.
There was no way in hell Desmond was going to glow red.
“So I thought I might have known you.”
“Oh.” Desmond blinked before nodding, “I guess that makes sense.”
“It does?” Altaïr asked with a frown.
“I mean… fellow Assassins should glow blue even if they’re from a different Brotherhood anyway.” Desmond reasoned and he could the slight frown on Altaïr’s face.
Yeah, Desmond knew why.
Because this should be their first meeting.
The Eagle Vision wasn’t omniscient or anything like that.
Things glowed based on what they know, the information they gathered and from the body movements and the habits of the people around them.
Which meant…
There shouldn’t be any reason why Desmond should have glowed blue in Altaïr’s Eagle Vision considering they were strangers and this was the first time they met.
Which meant…
Something made Desmond blue in Altaïr’s Eagle Vision.
And Desmond bet it had something to do with their connection.
But Desmond couldn’t just say that to Altaïr.
Especially since…
It was taking all of Desmond’s will power to not just blurt out the entire truth to Altaïr right here and now!
Altaïr wouldn’t believe him even if he did anyway.
They were strangers.
And…
That hurt Desmond more than he thought it would.
“Well, I think I got enough information here anyway.” Desmond said lightly as he stepped towards the window and looked outside, “If you want, I can just share it to you so we can both clear our mission.”
He should have done this from the very beginning. Made use of his fae lies instead of actually trying to directly lie to Altaïr in the first place.
He was never good at lying flat out, after all.
It truly said something about his mind turning to mush in Altaïr’s presence. Truly, the most dangerous-
“I’m not here on an information gathering mission.”
Wait…
What?
Desmond slowly turned to stare at him, eyes going wide as he asked, “Are you… no. Are you here to assassinate someone?!”
Right now?
Right when the tensions all around them were so high?
Right when the Saracens were on war with the Kingdom of Jerusalem?!
“No.” Altaïr answered.
Oh.
Good.
Desmond was worrying over nothing.
“I’m here to make sure the Saracens will take over Tiberias.”
Wha-
Altaïr and Desmond immediately turned to look at the door as they heard the telltale sounds of footsteps.
And they were coming closer.
Shit.
They must have heard the commotion Aquila and Maud made.
Altaïr and Desmond looked at one another and Altaïr nodded.
With that single nod, Desmond knew that Altaïr was letting him take point and Desmond didn’t have time to try and understand why he would do such a thing in the first place considering they were strangers.
Ah, how painful it was to be reminded by that.
Still, Desmond turned to look at Aquila who looked back at him. Aquila nodded with eyes clearly stating “Leave it to me!” and “I expect an extra treat after this!” that Desmond was familiar already. He simply used his knuckle to gently caress the side of Aquila’s face and Aquila flew out of the window.
“Follow us.” Desmond said in a calm tone as he nodded at Altaïr before dropping out of the window, making sure to keep a grip on the sill as he found cracks his feet could step into. Aquila flew to the right and continued to fly until he was three windows away from him before dropping slightly, staring at Desmond expectantly.
Without hesitation, Desmond climbed towards the third window to the right by using the cracks on the wall, with Altaïr following after him while Maud flew high up, almost like she was just watching them. Once he was right above Aquila, Aquila began to fly around, forming a small circle.
And Desmond let go.
He saw Altaïr raise his hand as if to grab him but they were too far away from one another and Desmond fell…
… into a cart of haystacks most probably meant for the knights’ and soldiers’ horses.
“So, Alamut is sending Assassins on information gathering missions now?”
“Novices have these kinds of missions in your Brotherhood, don’t they?”
“That’s true.”
Desmond tried not to sigh as they both sat on the rooftop of the tallest building next to the castle.
“But that wasn’t an answer to my question.”
Damn.
He actually expected it to work.
Desmond kept his attention to the gates while Altaïr continued to stare at him.
He…
… wasn’t exactly sure how the hell he got into this situation.
It was easy to escape the castle with Aquila (haughtily) leading them to one of the blind spots of the patrols after that Leap of Faith onto the haystack Aquila found during his surveys, all the while glancing at Altaïr’s eagle who flew off to the sky the moment they had left the room. It seemed that Altaïr’s explanation that the eagle just followed him was sorta true.
She wasn’t like Aquila who had decided that he was going to sit on Desmond’s lap and be fed dry meats, all the while glaring at the direction Maud had flew at, most probably to find her dinner.
Thankfully, the sun was already setting, making it harder for patrolling soldiers to notice them.
Their Eagle Vision made it easy for them to see even as the darkness was approaching.
But…
It made Altaïr’s golden eyes glow and he kept staring at Desmond which was a bit…
It wasn’t uncomfortable if Desmond was being honest.
Just…
It made Desmond want to squirm…
And his face felt hot…
And…
Desmond couldn’t even properly use his Eagle Vision because Altaïr was glowing such a bright blue glow that it was blinding Desmond.
He couldn’t even find some respite and connect with Aquila because Aquila decided that he had done enough today and he would be resting for the rest of the night.
… or until he get bored.
“Do you always pet your eagle that much?”
Oh, finally a safe topic!
“Not really.” Desmond answered, lips curving into a fond smile as he groomed Aquila’s feather, chuckling when Aquila’s feathers shivered before he presented his left wing to Desmond. Desmond began to groom his left wing gently as he said, “He just wants to be spoiled today. It’s been…”
Desmond’s tone turned into a dry one as he noted, “… a very eventful day for him.”
Altaïr hummed and his eyes glanced at Aquila for a moment before his golden eyes focused on Desmond once more, “He even lets you groom him?”
Desmond sighed before admitting, “He doesn’t know how to groom himself so I have to do it for him.”
Aquila turned to stare at him and Desmond knew that he was trying to tell him that he shouldn’t say that to a stranger but Desmond just smiled under his shemagh and rubbed Aquila under his neck, making the eagle putty in his lap. He scratched Aquila’s chest while grooming the feathers of his chest, even getting a stray feather that was obviously not Aquila’s as he asked, “Do you not groom Maud?”
“She doesn’t like to be touched.”
“Oh.” Desmond blinked, finding that surprising considering she had rested on Altaïr’s shoulder before, “She’s quite… independent, isn’t she?”
“I think yours is just too spoiled.” Altaïr commented, making Aquila turn to face him, and Altaïr frowned as he said, “And he knows it.”
“He doesn’t just know it. He relishes it.” Desmond said, ruffling Aquila’s chest feather and making the eagle squawk in surprise and indignation. Aquila hastily flapped his wings, making Desmond laugh as he tried to placate the offended bird, “Sorry, sorry. Come on, get back here. I’ll fix you up.”
Aquila made the bird equivalent to grumbling sounds as he returned to Desmond’s lap, showing his belly once more but keeping an eye on Desmond’s movements. Desmond rubbed under his neck for a moment as an apology before grooming the unkempt chest feathers.
Desmond couldn’t help but relax.
Altaïr’s stare still made him feel… things he was just going to ignore right now for the sake of his own sanity and they were still sitting on a rooftop to have a clear view of the gates just in case a messenger would come to tell them if Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn and his army were coming but…
Desmond couldn’t help but relax.
He was… safe here.
Right now, everything was fine.
“Do you know Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad?”
…
Sigh.
Well.
At least, Desmond got to relax for a few minutes.
“Sure.” Desmond answered vaguely, “All of Alamut know about him by now.”
Not because he wanted to be known, of course.
But because…
“Does he look like me?”
Desmond turned to stare at him, thinking of the question Altaïr just asked.
It was obvious Altaïr was asking because Masyaf heard that Desmond and Altaïr looked alike.
Too alike.
“He’s told people he’s not Umar Ibn-La'Ahad’s son.” Desmond said instead of actually answering Altaïr’s question. It was a bit hard talking about himself in third person but this wasn’t lying.
He didn’t think he could actually lie to Altaïr if he was being honest. That pathetic attempts of pretending to be a traveling merchant showed that.
“And you believe him?”
Desmond blinked at the question.
Altaïr had asked so earnestly that Desmond actually felt off-balanced for some reason.
Altaïr…
The Altaïr Desmond knew would have asked that in a more composed calm tone.
Something was wrong.
Even if this was a younger Altaïr…
He was acting…
More…
Unsure?
Less composed?
Desmond wasn’t even sure if any of the words he could think of was the right word to use.
Because it wasn’t a bad thing.
Okay, it would be bad if Altaïr was talking to an enemy, sure…
But…
It was like…
Altaïr was trying to trust Desmond.
…
Or…
Desmond was still chained to the idea…
To the wish…
That Altaïr…
That the three most important men in Desmond Miles’ life would trust him if they ever met him.
He already knew that he was compromised the moment he spoke to Altaïr.
What was to say that he wasn’t just seeing Altaïr with rose-tinted glasses right now?
There were too many inconsistency with Altaïr at the moment for it to simply be a coincidence.
He needed to look into this further.
It was possible the last few years of peace he had in Alamut had made him sloppy and complacent as well.
Right now…
He needed to get away from Altaïr and try to find out why there were too many inconsistency surrounding Altaïr.
But the most immediate concern was…
… Answering Altaïr’s question without tipping him off Desmond’s real identity.
“Sure.” Desmond answered with a small nod, “I trust Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “A part of him, I guess.”
That wasn’t a lie.
Desmond’s memories of his Bleeds had been too volatile so it was hard to trust them… which was a part of him.
A part of him that he was having troubles actually trusting now.
“So he’s keeping secrets from you?” Altaïr said thoughtfully as he turned to look at the gates.
Desmond hummed, not surprised that Altaïr came to that conclusion.
“Aren’t we all?” Desmond asked with a shrug before tilting his head at Altaïr, “I’m sure there’s a secret or two that you’re hiding from everyone as well.”
Altaïr looked thoughtful before he blinked, finally deactivating his Eagle Vision. Without the glow of the Eagle Vision, Desmond could finally confirm…
His golden eyes were duller than what Desmond could remember.
The dark circles underneath his eyes…
And…
Desmond reached out, touching Altaïr’s cheek.
The sudden physical contact made Altaïr turn his head to face him quickly as his body freeze.
This up close…
Even though night had already fallen…
Desmond could see that Altaïr looked leaner than he should be.
But even with eyes duller than they should be…
Altaïr’s golden eyes were just as beautiful as Desmond remembered them to be.
“You know…” Desmond leaned close and he could feel Altaïr’s breath against his shemagh. Altaïr remained frozen yet his eyes followed Desmond’s every move.
With such golden eyes staring at him, Desmond felt his heart beat faster as warmth traveled all around him.
Seeing just the intensity of Altaïr’s eyes made Desmond feel like he was the most important person in Altaïr’s mind right now.
… and that was dangerous.
“All you’re asking is about Desmond.” Desmond whispered, making Altaïr’s eyes widened.
Desmond leaned back and looked back at Aquila as he patted the eagle’s chest while dropping his other hand. Knowing it was the gesture to tell him that their grooming session was over, Aquila stood on Desmond’s knee and shook his entire body for a moment while Desmond looked at the gates, “Is he that interesting to you?”
Altaïr remained quiet and Desmond sighed, “Usually, when you’re talking to someone you don’t know, you ask about them. Not about other people they know.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a mirthless smile as he mused, “But I get it. Why would you ask about an insignificant person when you can ask about ‘Desmond’?”
Altaïr opened his mouth but whatever he was about to say was left unsaid as the gates opened.
Three soldiers with a man wearing a grander armor all rode in horseback into the castle town.
And that banner…
“It’s time.” Desmond stood and Aquila flapped his wings to fly to Desmond’s shoulder, “Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn sent his messenger.”
Desmond turned to look at Altaïr as he said, “You should probably go back to the castle. You’ll learn what they plan to do if you eavesdrop into their meeting. Eschiva said she wants to surrender the castle to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn but we can’t be sure she didn’t change her mind anyway.”
“What about you?” Altaïr stood as well as he kept his attention to Desmond instead of the men riding their way to the castle.
“I’ve gotten all the information I needed here.” Desmond said vaguely. He was using what little information he could remember about Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s victories this year from Altaïr’s Bleed after all, “I’m going to Jerusalem.”
Maybe if he was fast enough…
He could go make sure setti was safe.
He already fucked up the timeline by meeting Altaïr here.
Ensuring setti survive wouldn’t do any more damage to the timeline.
“You mustn’t!” Altaïr grabbed Desmond’s arm.
Desmond’s eyes widened at the sudden contact and he turned to look at Altaïr.
“Our master had forbade any Assassin from entering Jerusalem.” Altaïr informed him.
Rashid had?
“And what about the bureau there? The Rafiq? The Assassins and the informants still in Jerusalem?” Desmond asked worriedly.
Did Rashid abandoned them?
“Everyone has already been evacuated.”
Desmond froze.
“None of our brothers are in Jerusalem or anywhere near Jerusalem.” Altaïr continued, not realizing the real reason why Desmond froze, “The master also prepared transportation for their families. All of the Assassins and their families are currently staying in Masyaf.”
“When?”
“When?” Altaïr repeated the question with a frown.
“When did Rashid order everyone to leave?” Desmond asked, his voice remaining calm even though his heart was beating quickly as he waited with bated breath on Altaïr’s answer.
“Last February.”
Last February?
That was around the time that the merchants said Raynald attacked the caravan that prompted Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn to announce that Raynald had broken their truce and…
Started this war…
Was it possible that Rashid anticipated Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s action and had taken out all the Assassins to save them?
No.
Desmond couldn’t believe that.
“And no one is left in Jerusalem or anywhere close?”
“No.” Altaïr answered with a slight shake of his head, “We’re the only ones closest to Jerusalem right now.”
Last February…
It was too soon and this was too strange.
Even if Rashid had anticipated that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would try to take Jerusalem…
Taking all the Assassins and their families out of every kingdom and fiefdom near Jerusalem?
That meant he wouldn’t have any reliable information about what was going on in those places.
It was too risky.
Not even Desmond’s Brotherhood would have evacuated everyone. They would have held a meeting on which small team would be the best to leave behind with instructions to observe but to not engage and to retreat at the slight chance that things were getting too dangerous.
Information was too vital for them.
And Rashid would never choose a plan that would leave him with minimal information.
Rashid was a mentor who had ingrained in his Assassins that the success of the mission was more important than their lives.
He was a man who was not afraid to sacrifice his Assassins.
Which meant…
He wanted the Assassins away from Jerusalem.
He didn’t want anyone knowing what was happening in Jerusalem…
Why?
What would he gain that was more important than information?
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn will take Jerusalem. After that…
Desmond’s eyes widened.
The Third Crusades will begin.
And…
The Templar Order led by Robert de Sablé would have their reason to come to al-Sham.
Was Rashid…
Was he already a Templar?
“Vega?”
Desmond’s spiraling thoughts came to a halt when he heard Altaïr’s voice and he pulled his hand away from Altaïr’s grip.
“I have to return to Alamut.” Desmond took a step back as he said, “I… I need to inform my…”
“My mentor about this.” Desmond stated.
“Your mentor?”
“The Assassins in Alamut do not bow to the old man in the mountain, Altaïr.” Desmond stated calmly, wondering if saying such things would make Rashid pay more attention to him. Altaïr would tell Rashid of the Alamut Assassin named Vega when he reports back in Masyaf.
Altaïr…
Altaïr was too loyal to Rashid to not do such a thing, after all.
“Rashid shouldn’t even be a mentor.” Desmond stated.
“What are you talking about?”
“The real mentor is in Alamut.” Desmond said as he stared at Altaïr’s confused expression, “And Masyaf was meant to be our stronghold in al-Sham, not…”
“Rashid’s own little kingdom.” Desmond spatted, the venom in his voice sounding more like Raiza’s than his own.
Desmond turned away from Altaïr as he said, “Safety and peace, Altaïr. Stay safe and…”
Desmond halted for a moment, remembering Oded’s words when he had been a recruit. He turned around to face Altaïr once more and placed a hand on Altaïr’s right cheek, “Make sure you get enough sleep, okay?”
Desmond’s eyes focused on his dull golden eyes and he whispered, “No mission is worth your life, Altaïr.”
Desmond dropped his hand as he turned around and jumped down the roof…
Not realizing that Altaïr was going to raise his right hand.
Altaïr watched as Desmond disappeared into the darkness…
And touched his right cheek.
Warm.
His cheek was warm.
Chapter 35
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Desmond returned to Alamut a week after his first meeting with Altaïr. He could have return earlier but he noticed a caravan making their way north and he decided to join them after hearing that they were from a nearby village, trying to get as far away from the battles as possible. Desmond couldn’t just leave them because the only protection they had were men old enough to wield weapons and their weapons had been nothing more than tools that were used for farming.
The most experienced of them was their village leader who used a shield that looked so battered that Desmond had been worried it would break within three hits and a sword that looked old but sharp. The village leader didn’t say it but Desmond was sure he had been a soldier before and had been suspicious when Desmond suggested they travel together (even if it wouldn’t exactly be the optimal route for Desmond).
Their travel ended with three bandit ambushes.
Well…
Failed ambushes anyway because Desmond’s Eagle Vision warned him of the bandits’ movements ahead and his connection to Aquila gave him a better view of where the bandits were hiding and waiting to ambush them.
Desmond finally parted with them when they were welcomed into another village after a tense negotiation between village leaders. Desmond didn’t want to accept any reward but the village leader insisted so Desmond accepted a simple silver bracelet that he was quite sure belonged to someone the village leader had been close to.
It would definitely fetch a good price if he was to sell it but Desmond felt bad just thinking of selling it, considering it was a ‘gift’.
So when he returned to Alamut and reported to the mentors, he gave the bracelet to Jalāl who…
… who promptly gave it back to him before looking at him expectantly.
“He’s waiting for you to give it back to him.” Nur explained with a soft smile after Desmond got into a staring contest with a five month old baby.
Desmond gave it back as Nur suggested and Jalāl took it with both of his chubby hands.
… before giving it back to Desmond once more.
And that was how Desmond spent the rest of his day transferring a bracelet back and forth until it was time for dinner after Desmond had finished reporting to the mentors.
Desmond had remained quiet of his suspicion that Rashid may have already been or was being courted by Templars at this point in time as he had no real evidence to back it up.
When Diya al-Dīn asked him what he thought about Rashid’s orders, Desmond had only went as far as tell them that he found it strange and it appears like he was trying to deliberately not get information.
To be more exact…
It was as if Rashid was making sure Assassins in Masyaf would not know what was happening in Jerusalem and in the nearby kingdoms and fiefdoms.
As he expected, Raiza reminded them that all they had was conjectures and guesses at this point. They needed information but it was simply too dangerous right now to risk any other Assassin so all they could do was wait for Rashid’s next move and plan from there.
Desmond knew nothing would happen from all the waiting.
Not once had Alamut helped Masyaf during Rashid’s reign as far as Desmond could remember.
And even after Altaïr had taken the mantle of mentor…
He has no memories of Alamut ever helping Altaïr.
With one exception:
Providing sanctuary after he and his last remaining son were chased out of Masyaf…
Being back in Alamut had its perks.
The monotony of lessons and training was soothing after such a nerve-wrecking meeting.
With Altaïr no less.
And it gave Desmond enough time to think about the inconsistency that he noticed in Altaïr when they had met.
There was only one real conclusion that Desmond could come up with.
The inconsistency was due to the unreliability of the memories of Desmond’s Bleed of Altaïr.
That was the logical conclusion that Desmond could think of.
Even if Desmond was looking at Altaïr with rose-tinted glasses, that only meant that the fault lied in Desmond.
But that didn’t mean that Desmond wasn’t worried.
Altaïr had looked…
Tired.
Desmond knew that Altaïr couldn’t fall into deep sleep anywhere but his room in Masyaf. The most he was able to do was take short naps in the bureaus.
By the time Desmond had started to relive Altaïr’s life in the Animus, Altaïr was so used to it and Desmond didn’t even pay that much attention, especially as he only stayed connected to those memories for a minute or two before the Animus would announce that it was going to load the next memory.
So…
It was possible Desmond had met Altaïr before he managed to get used to that kind of… living.
Fuck.
Desmond’s heart ached just thinking about it and his fingers itched as if they wanted to do something.
But there was nothing to do.
He had risked a lot just meeting Altaïr by chance.
Not to mention, Altaïr had off-balanced him mentally and emotionally enough that he had talked about Alamut when he knew he shouldn’t have.
He was already dreading what Altaïr would report to Rashid about him.
…
Should Desmond…
Should he… fake his own death?
Not Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad’s death, of course, but Vega’s.
Tell the Assassins leaving Alamut to spread a rumor that Vega had died?
That… wouldn’t work.
First of all, his batch would hear about it and they might become too emotional and use his real name just to find out the truth which meant that his Vega identity would collapse.
Second of all, his batch would kill him if they learn that Desmond had spread the rumor himself. At least, try to kill him by making him feel guilty over making them worry.
This meant…
Desmond was caught in a bind.
And his fate was in Altaïr’s hands.
Why did he have to go and tell Altaïr about Alamut anyway?
The most annoying part was…
Desmond already knew the answer why.
It was because-
“It’s love, isn’t it?”
Desmond’s entire mind froze, the thought of ‘connection’ and ‘Bleeding Effect’ falling from his mind like sand.
All he could do was stare at Dvora as she stared back at him.
Dvora raised an eyebrow as she asked, “Well? Am I right?”
It actually took a moment before Desmond processed what Dvora had asked and all he could do was say, “Huh?”
Dvora’s lips curved into a fond smile and she used her Duduk to poke Desmond between the eyes as she repeated, “I was asking if the reason why you’ve been looking quite forlorn every few minutes is because you’ve fallen in love.”
“Whe-where would you- I mean- forlorn?!” Desmond asked, unable to stop the way his voice became higher.
“If you’re left alone with only your mind as your company, you always make this face.” Dvora’s expression changed into-
Oh, god.
No.
Desmond refused to believe he looked like that!
“I don’t look like that!”
He looked like…
Like…
He was pining over someone!
Oh, god.
It would be really embarrassing if he did look like that and that was why he would never believe such a thing.
“You do.” Dvora said with an amused smile, “Our beloved is worried that perhaps you have been rejected.”
Dvora leaned forward to whisper, “Even Raiza is worried.”
Desmond groaned and hoped Dvora was just teasing him.
The idea that Raiza would be worried was a… ‘worrying’ one.
“So… who is it?” Dvora leaned close and used the sleeve of her dress to cover their lower faces as she whispered, “Tell me all about him and I’ll help you make a plan on how to seduce him even if he has rejected you first.”
“There’s no on- wait. Why did you think I got rejected?” Desmond asked with a frown.
Dvora blinked at him before saying, “Well, normally, if one reciprocated your affection, you wouldn’t look so forlorn.”
Dvora gasped and whispered in a lower voice, “Don’t tell me… is he a crusader? Is that why you look so forlorn?”
“Is this…” Desmond was already dreading the next words that would leave Dvora’s lips.
Dvora’s eyes shone as she whispered, “Forbidden love?”
“Oh, god, no! No!” Desmond tried to salvage the situation as he waved his hands like he was trying to shoo away Dvora’s thoughts.
“That would be quite hard. Those crusader men are so rigid with their way of thinking.” Dvora noted as she leaned back to evade Desmond’s flailing hands, “Then again, most men are quite rigid when it concerns love.”
“It’s not like that!” Desmond shouted but his words fell on deaf ears.
“Oh, but what a tragic story you are burden with, dear child. To be in love with a man you believe you cannot have.” Dvora added dramatically and Desmond was pretty sure she was now half-teasing him.
“I’m telling you, it isn’t like that!”
“But I suppose it’s better to be in love with a crusader than one of Ra-”
A knock stopped whatever Dvora was about to say and they both grew quiet and turned towards the only door of the music room in the harem where Desmond had been learning how to play the Duduk.
“Yes?” Dvora asked in a more authoritative tone.
“Forgive my intrusion, my lady. The imam has arrived in the harem and has requested your and the prince’s presence.”
Dvora hummed for a moment before she asked, “Has he said what for? We were in the middle of our lesson.”
No, they weren’t.
They were in a middle of a short break because they had been playing for two hours straight.
“The lord of Masyaf has sent a message.”
Desmond’s face darkened.
Well…
It was time to face the music, it seemed.
The crusaders officially surrendered Jerusalem on early October of 1187. Alamut received word about it on October 15, 1187.
Given to them in a small rolled up piece of paper that had been carried by one of his messenger pigeons.
… together with a request.
“He’s requesting that we send Assassins to escort Faheem Al-Sayf. He will be staying here in Alamut for the foreseeable future as Rashid’s ‘representative’.” Diya al-Dīn informed them after he had summarized what Rashid had written in his short message.
“Faheem Al-Sayf…” Raiza looked thoughtful while Desmond was racking his brain to try and remember who Faheem Al-Sayf was?
Al-Sayf meant he was related to Malik but Desmond has no memories at all on who he could be.
His memories from Altaïr’s Bleed was drawing a blank.
“Was he not one of the men who followed Rashid when he left?” Nur asked curiously as Jalāl sat on her lap who kept giving Desmond his toys as he babbled incoherently.
Desmond was sure he heard ‘mama’ and ‘baba’ here and there but he has no idea if Jalāl was talking about his actual father and mothers or if they were part of a bigger sentence that he couldn’t fully say yet.
Regardless, Desmond kept nodding and making humming sounds at Jalāl while listening to the conversation.
“He is.” Diya al-Dīn nodded and that didn’t give Desmond any real information. That only meant his age would range from around Jabal’s age to Umar’s age right now had he still been alive, “He is a member of the Al-Sayf family, one of the old Assassin families that used to be part of the Hidden Ones.”
“He’s a man ruled by his emotions.” Raiza noted calmly, “If his emotions had made him speak words that Rashid did not like, it’s highly possible that Rashid is sending him to die.”
“Then why would Rashid ask us to escort him?” Desmond asked curiously before his attention returned to Jalāl when the baby tapped his hand with one of his toys after he noticed Desmond wasn’t paying attention to him.
“Because he has no choice.” Raiza stated as she stared at the message Rashid had sent them, “Tensions are high all over al-Sham because of Jerusalem. I’m sure Faheem has enough of a high standing in Masyaf that people who know and care for him have raised concerns of how safe it would be for Faheem to journey alone.”
“But Rashid can’t send his own Assassins as Faheem’s escort.” Diya al-Dīn added, “Not when they would have to return to Masyaf with what they’ve seen about Alamut… of how… things are peaceful around these parts.”
“It will be tempting.” Dvora commented as she leaned against the pillows, “Stories of how peaceful this place is could just as easily tempt his children to transfer here.”
“Also, Rashid wouldn’t risk endangering his children just to escort an Assassin that is meant to stay in Alamut.” Raiza added as she handed the message back to Diya al-Dīn, “We are not sure if Faheem is being sent here to remove his power in Masyaf or to spy on us and we cannot even send him off somewhere far away from us as he was part of Rashid’s council. Making him a Rafiq would seem like a demotion and an insult.”
Diya al-Dīn sighed, “We’ll have to think about his position while Desmond is escorting him.”
“Hm?” Desmond turned to stare at Diya al-Dīn with wide eyes.
“We’re sending you and two other Assassins to escort Faheem.” Diya al-Dīn informed him.
Quite late, if Desmond was being honest.
“To be more exact, we’re sending ‘Vega’.” Raiza reminded Desmond before instructing, “One of your team mates would be a higher rank than you and will act as your group’s representative. You must keep your head down and your ears open for anything that might give us even just a hint of why Faheem is being sent to Masyaf and if anyone has seen anything strange concerning Rashid’s actions over Jerusalem.”
“So we’re going to risk me going to the belly of the beast to figure out what Rashid is planning then?” Desmond asked lightly.
“Belly of the beast…” Raiza repeated thoughtfully before nodding, “Yes, I suppose we are.”
“We trust you’d do well.” Diya al-Dīn said with a smile, “Also…”
Diya al-Dīn’s smile grew as he teased, “Perhaps the danger of being in Rashid’s presence would finally be enough to make you forget about being rejected.”
“I wasn’t rejected!”
Alas…
Desmond’s words fell into deaf amused ears.
“I know you don’t want to go but you have to.” Desmond tried to reason but the slump form and the refusal to even look at Desmond was a dead giveaway of how high the mountain Desmond needed to climb to get through, “Look, I don’t like this anymore than you do and I know you’re scared to face-”
Finally, eyes turned to glare at him.
“Good morning, Veg-” Nahir, the oldest of Rawiya’s brothers and the Assassin that would pretend to lead their squad approached Desmond in the stable. He blinked for a moment before he asked, “Why is Aquila sulking?”
Desmond sighed and rubbed his forehead as he answered, “He doesn’t want to go to Masyaf after I told him he might meet Maud again.”
“Ah, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad’s supposed eagle?” Nahir remembered with a nod, having been one of the few Assassins regularly sent to Masyaf to receive the monthly reports from Rashid. He walked towards his horse and began to prepare his horse, placing his bag on the back and securing it as he said, “Don’t worry, Aquila. Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad is rarely in Masyaf anyway. Given the situation in Jerusalem, he’s probably near Jerusalem right now to observe what’s happening.”
Aquila let out a high-pitched squawk and flapped his wings at Desmond who sighed, “Yes, yes, you’re not scared of her. You just don’t want to see her.”
Aquila glared at Nahir who was double-checking his horse. Seeing the glare that the eagle was giving him, Nahir turned to stare at Desmond. Desmond nodded at him and Nahir turned to look at Aquila as he said, “Of course. Vega’s dear Aquila wouldn’t be scared of anybody.”
Aquila chirped and puffed his chest, making Desmond caress his back, “And since you’re not scared of anything…”
Desmond leaned close and said lightly, “You wouldn’t leave your dear father alone in Masyaf, right? All alone, with no one to keep him safe?”
Desmond stared at Aquila as he pressed with a smile on his face, “And you’re not scared of anyone, right? Not even of another eagle, right?”
Aquila and Desmond began to stare at one another for a minute before…
Aquila tapped his talon three times against one of the small bags secured on the back of Desmond’s horse.
“Two.” Desmond negotiated.
Aquila tapped his talon three times once more.
Desmond sighed as he compromised, “Two dry meat after every meal and three dry meats as a reward when we get to Masyaf.”
Aquila stared at Desmond for a moment before he nodded. Once Desmond nodded at him as well, he flew off the saddle of Desmond’s horse and out of the stable.
“Woah!” Peredur yelped as he quickly stepped to the side just as he was about to enter the stable just to evade Aquila. Peredur looked at the sky to watch Aquila fly before walking into the stable with his bag, “What’s up with Aquila?”
Desmond shrugged as he replied, “Someone pulled his pigtails really hard in the playground.”
Both Peredur and Nahir stared at Desmond with confused expressions.
Desmond shook his head and said instead, “Don’t mind him. He’ll come around once he’s eaten enough dry meat. We’ll leave once you’ve secured your bags on your horse, Sirius.”
“Got it.” Peredur nodded and walked towards the prepared horse on the other side of Desmond’s horse.
Desmond stared at Peredur quietly.
Nahir had been chosen because he was one of the few Assassins who usually went to Masyaf for Rashid’s reports.
But Peredur…
Peredur had begged Diya al-Dīn to let him in the mission.
Which meant he had an ulterior motive.
And Desmond was quite sure what it was.
…
He was looking for inspiration and reference for his fourth book.
Khalid had been more than happy to summarize the third book for him because there was no way in hell Desmond was going to read a ‘fantasy’ book based on him.
He tried once and he only got as far as reading Peredur describe his eyes as ‘dark honey’ before he was closing the book and returning it to Khalid the very next day.
Anyway, the third book had ended in a cliffhanger of ‘Dastan’ meeting ‘Tamina’ and being informed of their engagement by Dastan’s adoptive father and king.
It was clear that this Tamina character was meant to be Adha and Khalid even informed him that Peredur was setting up the character of Shahbaz to be Dastan’s rival, a ‘warrior’ from a kingdom that used to be part of the kingdom that Dastan has been adopted as prince of.
And… a possible love triangle between Shahbaz and Dastan for Tamina’s hand.
In other words…
Peredur was getting ready to introduce Altaïr into his book series and Desmond just hoped that Peredur wouldn’t vilify Altaïr.
“What’s wrong, Vega?” Peredur asked, having noticed Desmond was staring at him.
“Nah, nothing’s wrong. I was just-”
“Vega. A word?”
Oh, good.
Khalid to the rescue!
“Of course.” Desmond patted Peredur’s shoulder as he said, “I’ll wait for you two outside.”
Desmond led his horse out of the stable and towards to Khalid who was waiting a few feet away from the main gates. Aquila flew down and settled by the edge of the saddle, waiting quietly as Desmond stood next to Khalid jokingly, “You finally decided to join us?”
“Never.” Khalid said just as lightly, “The day I set foot on Masyaf is the day I slits my brother’s throat.”
Khalid shrugged as he added just as lightly, “Or he slits my throat. Either way, one of us will die.”
“Besides…” Khalid continued, taking pity of Desmond who always looked awkward whenever he talked about the Abel-and-Cain drama he had with his brother, “Hilde would kill me if I leave Alamut now.”
“Your marriage with Hilde and Maria won’t happen while I’m not here, right?” Desmond asked.
“Of course. There’s no way you’re going to miss it.” Khalid replied as he patted Desmond’s back, “Also, the mentor needs a bit more time to prepare everything. He was prepared to marry me and Hilde this year, not to marry me, Hilde and Maria.”
Desmond hummed, having already heard from Diya al-Dīn that he knew Khalid and Hilde planned this from the get go. It wasn’t all that uncommon to marry two women at the same time but Khalid and Hilde kept it a secret until this year which Diya al-Dīn assumed was because it wasn’t exactly ‘planned’.
So…
Rumors were flying wild why Khalid was marrying Maria right now.
Desmond was pretty sure it was Hilde who decided that Khalid would marry Maria too, he was just…
Well…
He didn’t want to pry.
“But that’s not why I’m here.” Khalid took out a small vial from his pouch and handed it to Desmond.
Desmond stared at it. It was a clear liquid so it was definitely not aconite but he still guessed, “Poison?”
“Of course.” Khalid nodded as he grinned, “If you have the chance, please give that to my brother. Orally.”
Desmond turned to look at him with an unimpressed expression even though he knew his shemagh was hiding half of his face.
Khalid chuckled as he said, “Relax, it won’t kill him. He’ll just have a terrible stomachache for a couple of weeks… A month if I’m lucky.”
Desmond sighed as he placed the vial into the small pouch that has all of his poisons in it, which included the vial filled with aconite that Desmond didn’t use at all, just in case and said, “If I get the chance.”
“I’m sure you’d find a way.” Khalid said with a smirk and Desmond couldn’t help but smile back.
“We’ll see…”
Masyaf was just as Desmond remembered it.
… was what Desmond wanted to say but…
After living in Alamut where the castle town underneath was always full of life and noises, the quietness of the village underneath Masyaf felt… strange.
Everything was still as Desmond remembered it.
The houses that Altaïr used to run on top of when he was just a recruit…
The long winding path filled with novices patrolling…
The tower in front of the large gate leading to the fortress filled with logs that could be used as a trap.
… will be used as a trap when the Templars try to lay siege on Masyaf on July 1191.
Right now though… It served as a lookout and Desmond could feel the Assassins’ stare as the three of them make their way into the fortress.
“Welcome to Masyaf, brothers!” An older looking Assassin greeted them once they have reached the gates, “Faheem is with the master right now. If you’d follow me-”
“I will meet with Al Mualim and Faheem.” Nahir stated, patting both Peredur’s and Desmond’s back as he said, “If it’s alright, my brothers would like to see the beauty Masyaf has to offer. It’s their first time here.”
“Oh, of course!” The Assassin nodded before he looked around. He nodded at one of the nearby recruit who was sweeping the training grounds, “Ah! Kadar! Come here.”
Desmond tried his best not to stay relax as Kadar, younger than Desmond could remember, placed the broom he had been using the sweep against the railing of the training ring itself and jogged towards them, “Yes, sir?”
“This is Kadar Al-Sayf.” The Assassin patted Kadar’s shoulder, “He was born and raised here in Masyaf. Feel free to ask him anything about Masyaf.”
Kadar’s eyes grew wide when the Assassin ordered him, “Give our two brothers from Alamut a tour while we go and talk to our master and your father, alright?”
“I-” Kadar looked nervous and Desmond quickly elbowed Peredur who immediately went towards Kadar.
“Kadar, right? My name’s Sirius. It’s nice to meet you. Oh, you’re a recruit? Ah, it seemed so long ago since I’ve been a recruit. How’s your training go-”
While Peredur distracted Kadar, Nahir nodded at the other Assassin, “Shall we go, brother? We don’t want to keep the master waiting.”
“Of course.” The Assassin turned around and began to walk. Nahir gave Desmond a quick glance and Desmond slightly nodded at him. Nahir didn’t nod back, instead following the Assassin quietly.
With Nahir walking towards the main keep and getting most of the attention of the Assassins and Peredur keeping Kadar preoccupied…
Desmond easily slipped away.
… just as they had planned.
Okay.
So the plan had been…
Find Khalid’s brother’s room and dump the stomachache poison in his water or food then leave while looking around to check for anything important or interesting using his Eagle Vision.
He had Aquila flying around to check Desmond’s surroundings because he was in a place where almost everyone had Eagle Vision.
It would be too dangerous to…
Well…
Try anything stupid.
Unfortunately…
Desmond didn’t know where Khalid’s brother’s room was.
He didn’t even know if Khalid’s brother was living in one of the private rooms in the fortress.
So…
He ended up just walking around…
Not aimlessly though.
Because…
He did know where an important person’s room was in this fortress and it seemed like a very nice consolation price to slip inside and look into the more private documents he had in there.
And it was smooth sailing from there on out.
He even managed to relax.
He knew he shouldn’t…
But there was something just… relaxing about being back in Masyaf.
No.
Not ‘back’.
This was his first time here, after all.
Still…
He couldn’t help the way his tense shoulders slowly relaxed as he stared at Paradise.
It wasn’t even the Flowers relaxing…
It was the garden itself.
It just felt… nice.
But he soon regretted it when he felt someone grab his arm and pulled him towards a dark alcove.
Desmond was pushed with just enough force that his back hit the wall behind him.
But…
Not enough force for it to hurt?
Desmond blinked.
“Vega.”
Ah.
Desmond’s lips curved into an amused smile as he greeted back…
“Altaïr.”
Notes:
You might hate the cliffhanger right now but you’re gonna hate what I’m about to say more. XD
I have to travel this Friday and I won’t be back until Monday so there will be no update next week. Next chapter will be posted on 10/05 too. Sorry, guys TTATT
Other notes for this chapter:
The name of Altaïr’s fictional character in Peredur’s RPF is based on Philip Shahbaz, Altaïr’s voice actor in AC1.
Tamina is the name of Dastan’s love interest in the Prince of Persia movie. She’s the guardian of the dagger of time and hails from Alamut. (She’s pretty much based on Farah from Prince of Peria: Sands of Time)
Chapter 36
Notes:
Here’s the obligatory “I’m sorry for the cliffhanger, have this AltDes ‘filled’ chapter as an apology” note. XD
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Desmond tried to stay calm as he placed a hand on Altaïr’s chest to push him away.
Unfortunately, Altaïr would not budge and the hand currently on his shoulder pining him to the wall behind him squeezed lightly in warning but Desmond kept at trying to push him away anyway.
Altaïr was simply too close that it was getting harder to breath, Desmond’s face turning red from the lack of air.
Yes.
It was definitely because of the lack of air.
“What were you doing in Al Mualim’s private quarters?” Altaïr whispered, his voice a bit lower than usual.
Desmond froze at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his breath against his heated skin, the shemagh unable to protect him at their current closeness.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t see you?” Altaïr asked as he leaned closer, his voice becoming quieter as he continued, “With how brilliant your glow is?”
Oh, Desmond wasn’t surprised about that one.
He had expected it.
The moment they arrived in Masyaf, Desmond had activated his Eagle Vision and he had seen a bright blue hue of a figure standing on the top of one of the towers of Masyaf.
Desmond knew it had to be Altaïr. He was the only person Desmond could think of as having such a bright glow.
Which was why it had momentarily frozen Desmond because he had expected Altaïr to be of the lighter shade of blue or even white, considering the ‘traitorous words’ he had spoken in their last encounter.
He dared not hope for anything more even when Rashid’s letter held no contempt over an Assassin named Vega.
But the best way to know just how much Altaïr had told Rashid was to talk to him. So…
“If I told you I did it so you’d come see me, would you believe me?” Desmond asked as he leaned towards Altaïr, hoping that such closeness would force Altaïr to pull back.
Instead, Altaïr simply froze for a brief second before his body relaxed ever so slightly.
The relaxed posture of a predator waiting for the perfect chance to pounce…
“Are you saying that you went into the master’s private quarters and stayed there until the middle of Dhuhr because you were waiting for me?” Altaïr challenged with a frown.
“Pretty much.” Desmond leaned back as he answered, “I honestly expected you to come inside.”
“Why?”
“To talk.” Desmond answered immediately.
… and absolutely did not like the heavy silence that surrounded them afterwards.
“To talk.” Altaïr dryly repeated.
“I swear, only to talk.” Desmond said as he raised his right hand, only to be rewarded by Altaïr grabbing his right hand with his free hand and pressing it against the wall as well. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely getting annoying.
Well, he supposed raising a hand as some sort of ‘I swear’ gesture was not something Altaïr was familiar with.
“And why should we talk in Al Mualim’s private quarters?” Altaïr pressed calmly, “With how easily you were able to find the master’s quarters, it’s obvious you didn’t just pick a random door to wait in. You were there for a reason and I doubt it’s simply to push me into confronting you.”
“Well…” Desmond shrugged as he admitted vaguely, “I was trying to kill two birds with one stone.”
Altaïr’s frown held a hint of confusion that Desmond was used to seeing from people who heard him use a phrase or a word that they didn’t understand.
“Killing two birds with one stone…” Altaïr repeated instead of asking what Desmond meant. Before Desmond could try to explain it, Altaïr asked with eyes shining with curiosity, “Is it supposed to mean that you were trying to achieve two things using one action?”
Desmond blinked, surprised by Altaïr’s words but was able to nod nonetheless as he replied, “Yeah. That’s pretty much what that means.”
Altaïr hummed as he looked to the ground on his left, repeating the words once more, “Killing two birds with one stone…”
“Uuuhh…” Desmond was unsure if he should even say anything, too surprised by Altaïr’s actions right now, “Altaïr?”
With just one call of his name, Altaïr was seemingly jolted away from his musing, his head turning to stare at Desmond once more.
The slight reddening of his cheeks made Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile.
It was nice to know that, no matter how unreliable his Bleed of Altaïr was, Altaïr’s thirst for knowledge had been real, no matter what.
“So you wanted to see me.”
Desmond blinked, surprised by Altaïr’s words once more.
Altaïr’s frown returned as he asked, “Am I wrong? You said you were waiting for me. That means you wanted to see me, correct?”
“Oh, yeah, I did.” Desmond nodded before admitting, “I’m just surprised that you’re asking me about that instead of, you know, asking why the hell I was in Rashid’s quarters?”
Desmond tilted his head as he reminded Altaïr, “That’s your first question after dragging me here, remember?”
“I…” The reddening of Altaïr’s cheeks became more prominent as he looked away, his words becoming softer that he was more or less mumbling at the moment, “I figured you were looking for information or anything that would help take Masyaf back from Al Mualim.”
Desmond blinked.
Well…
He wasn’t exactly wrong about that, Desmond supposed.
“Uh…” Desmond wanted to rub the back of his neck but his hands were currently preoccupied so he just said, “I mean… sure. I guess? I was just looking for anything that would give us any ideas to why Faheem Al-Sayf is being exiled.”
“Exiled?” Altaïr frowned at that word before explaining, “Faheem Al-Sayf is being transferred to Alamut to be Al Mualim’s representative-”
Altaïr stopped and his expression turned blank as he asked Desmond, “Alamut… has no need for a representative from Masyaf, does it?”
Desmond stared at him for a moment before nodding solemnly as he stated, “If any of the Assassins Rashid sent away make it to Alamut, we usually send them somewhere further away, in one of our bureaus or strongholds. If they do stay in Alamut, that’s only because we know for certain that they’re not there to spy on behalf of Rashid.”
“He’s not a spy.” Altaïr stated with confidence, his eyes clear of any doubt, “The Al-Sayf men would not stoop so low as to spy on their own brothers.”
“So Rashid is sending him away from Masyaf to take him out then.” Desmond noted, pulling down the hand Altaïr was gripping. Altaïr let go of both his wrist and shoulder but didn’t bother to step back. That was fine since staying close to one another meant that they could lower their voice just enough that no one would be able to hear them unless they came close enough that they would be seen by either of them.
“Not to kill him.” Desmond added, even though he wasn’t entirely certain that that had been Rashid’s initial idea, only stopped by the worries of the other Assassins who had heard of Faheem’s new post, “But to take him away from Masyaf.”
Desmond rested his back against the wall behind him as he asked, “Did he and Rashid have a falling out? Or maybe he had started to say something that went against Rashid’s teachings or plans?”
“I…” Altaïr’s expression turned blank once more as he said, “I have not heard anything of sort but they wouldn’t tell me even if that would be the case.”
Altaïr’s eyes darkened as he admitted in a calm composed tone even though Desmond could hear the bitterness that he hid almost impeccable, “Everyone believes I will report any whispers of dissent to Al Mualim, no matter how baseless it might be.”
Desmond’s expression softened and he placed a gentle hand over Altaïr’s own. He dared not hold it.
But still… he wished to comfort Altaïr in any way he could.
The gloves of their hidden blades made that a bit hard to do but he could still feel the warmth of Altaïr’s fingers against his own.
He simply hoped Altaïr felt his warmth as well.
“But that’s not true, right?” Desmond asked even as he tried bitterly to stomp out the hope in his heart. His heart was beating too fast for comfort and there was a slight hesitance in his voice as he asked, “You didn’t tell Rashid about me, did you?”
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he turned his head to look at the darkness of the alcove, “What is there to tell? Our meeting bore no importance to my mission.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he teased lightly, “I’m hurt. Here I thought my information had helped.”
“Who’s to say that I didn’t hear the same information you had heard by the small cracks and holes in the wall between the room we were in and Eschiva’s room?” Altaïr said as he leaned closer with a small smirk decorating his face as he stared at Desmond.
Desmond’s mouth fell open before he exclaimed, “That’s why you were in that room!”
Desmond smacked the back of his head against the wall lightly as he groaned, “Now I just feel so stupid pressing my ear against the door just to hear them.”
Altaïr chuckled softly, making Desmond’s own lips curved into a smile without meaning to.
Desmond relaxed against the wall as he asked curiously, “Soooo… is Maud here?”
Altaïr tilted his head at the sudden question.
“I’m asking for Aquila.” Desmond explained fondly, “He’s been more paranoid than usual since we got here, keeping an eye for any more surprise attack from Maud.”
“Ah.” Altaïr shook his head as he answered, “He doesn’t have to worry about her. Maud never goes here.”
Desmond blinked, “Never?”
Altaïr shook his head once more as he answered, “Never. I normally see Maud following me an hour or two after I leave Masyaf so she must have made her usual hunting ground somewhere nearby but I can never be sure.”
“That’s…” Desmond thought for the right word for a moment before he said, “… strange.”
“She’s a free bird.” Altaïr said as if it was the most natural thing to say, “She does whatever she wants. Following me around is just a flight of fancy for her.”
Desmond frowned at those words.
Altaïr might not be saying it out loud but it was the way Altaïr said it.
It was like he expected it.
… like he was expecting Maud to stop appearing sooner or later.
Like it was inevitable.
No.
Desmond knew Altaïr enough to know that it wasn’t just Maud.
Altaïr wasn’t expecting anyone to stay with him.
“Well…” Desmond finally wrapped his hand around Altaïr’s, squeezing it light as he said, “Who knows? Maybe it did start as a flight of fancy but…”
Desmond stared at Altaïr’s tired golden eyes as he said softly, “… maybe she decided to stay anyway.”
Altaïr stared at him and there was something heartbreaking in the way Altaïr’s eyes seemed to light up for a fraction of a second before dulling once more.
Like a small light being snuffed out before Desmond could even react.
“I tried asking about you.” Altaïr said instead.
Desmond knew he was changing the subject but the words that left his lips surprised Desmond anyway.
“Huh?” Desmond was only able to utter in complete confusion.
Altaïr had been asking about him?
Why?
Was he looking for information about who he was?
Did he suspect ‘Vega’ to be Desmond Ibn-La’Ahad?
Altaïr nodded before admitting, “I was sent to Ḥalab a few weeks ago to find any information of what Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn might be planning next. There were three Alamut Assassin there, pretending to be…”
Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smirk as he said, “… traveling merchants.”
Desmond groaned, feeling embarrassed by Altaïr reminding him of the dumb lie he tried to tell Altaïr.
Wait.
Traveling merchants around al-Sham?
Alamut only had one group of Assassins traveling around al-Sham at the moment and they were pretending to be part of a merchant guild who sells their wares along the merchants' regularly used roads.
And…
Rahim was part of that group.
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “Let me guess. One of them glared at you and asked why the hell were you asking about me?”
Altaïr nodded and, even if his face was blank, Desmond could see the irritation he was trying to hide anyway.
Desmond chuckled softly and patted Altaïr’s arm with his other hand thrice as he said, “Don’t sulk. He’s a friend of mine. He’s just looking out for me.”
“And asking about you deserves such animosity?” Altaïr dryly asked.
Considering how Alamut saw Altaïr as Al Mualim’s favored child and possible successor?
Yeah.
Desmond could totally understand that Rahim would treat Altaïr with suspicion.
Which begged the question…
“Why were you asking about me anyway?” Desmond asked as he tilted his head, trying to stay calm even though he knew it was most probably because of the final words he spoke.
Of the ‘treacherous’ words he spoke about Ra-
“I wanted to know more about you.”
…
“Eh?”
Altaïr turned his head to look at the darkness of the alcove once more, placing his free hand over his mouth as he admitted, “I… Ever since you left…”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
At those words, every thought that Desmond ever had disappeared. The very concept of words ceased to exist.
All he could do was stare at Altaïr, unable to utter a single word.
The sound of his heartbeat was too fast and too loud yet he could still hear Altaïr perfectly.
No.
It was more accurate to say that Altaïr was all he could hear.
His entire focus was on Altaïr alone.
It was truly dangerous just how easy it was for him to ignore everything for Altaïr.
At the same time, it was something he knew he could refuse. Something he could push away.
But he didn’t want to.
“I…” Altaïr turned to look back at him and Desmond could feel his heart soar as Altaïr’s golden eyes stared into his.
“I want to… know about you.”
Oh.
Shit.
Altaïr wanted to know him?
Did that mean Altaïr realized his true identity?
Fuuucccckkkk.
“Vega.” Altaïr placed his free hand on the wall behind Desmond, just a few inches away from Desmond’s head, “When you left… I couldn’t stop thinking of you, of wanting to see you again and…”
“… to ask you questions about yourself.” Altaïr’s words were a bit clumsy and it was clear that he had never done this before.
Desmond had been momentarily taken back by the rare shyness in Altaïr’s actions that it took him a moment to fully understand what Altaïr was trying to say.
Oh!
He was truly lucky at the moment because his shemagh covered the big grin that had appeared on his face.
Altaïr must have felt bad because Desmond flat out told him that it was rude to just ask about ‘Desmond Ibn-La’Ahad’ when he was talking to ‘Vega’.
So now, Altaïr was trying to rectify his mistakes.
Aaawww, how cute.
Shit.
He just thought of Altaïr as cute.
Even if he was younger than the memories Desmond had relived, they were already 22 years old.
He would have been offended if he heard Desmond call him cute.
“My favorite color is red.” Desmond said instead.
Altaïr blinked, surprised by the randomness of Desmond’s words.
Desmond leaned closer, making Altaïr freeze for a brief second before he relaxed once more. Their faces were just inches away and Desmond’s lips curved into a small smirk when he saw the red glow of Altaïr’s cheeks, “You said you wanted to get to know me better, right?”
“I…” Altaïr’s breath hitched and the reddening of his cheeks deepened before he leaned back slightly as he nodded, “Yes, that is what I mean.”
Seeing Altaïr squirm slightly and the way his left foot stepped back a bit, Desmond leaned back once more, assuming that Altaïr had felt discomfort with Desmond’s closeness.
“So… what’s yours?” Desmond asked curiously.
Altaïr tilted his head.
“Your favorite color.” Desmond answered Altaïr’s silent question.
“Oh.” Altaïr stared at Desmond for a moment before he answered, “Brown… I guess?”
“Brown?” Desmond couldn’t help the surprise in his voice.
“It’s…” Altaïr squeezed his hand lightly and Desmond was quite sure he didn’t mean to do it, it had been instinctual for Altaïr, “It’s…”
“… a new thing.” Altaïr hesitantly admitted as he looked to his left.
“Oh.” Desmond blinked.
He wondered what could have happened for Altaïr to consider brown of all colors to be his favorite.
He had always assumed Altaïr’s favorite color had been red.
To be more specific, the red hue of his sash.
Wait.
Did that mean that Desmond picked ‘red’ because he remembered Altaïr’s sash?
…
Nah.
That would be stupid.
If anything, he probably thought of red first because of his shemagh.
“Soooo…” Desmond started, finding the silence between them a bit awkward, “… what else do you wanna know about me?”
“Oh… well…” Altaïr looked like he was searching the ground for answers and Desmond couldn’t help but chuckle. He squeezed Altaïr’s hand lightly while placing his other hand on Altaïr’s cheek. Altaïr raised his head to stare at him and Desmond’s lips curved into a small soft smile even if he knew Altaïr wouldn’t see it.
His voice was soft and gentle as he said, “You don’t have to think too deeply about this, Altaïr. Just ask me whatever comes to your mind.”
“Then…” Altaïr lowered his head slightly before raising his head once more to stare at Desmond as he asked, “Where are you stationed?”
Desmond blinked at the question as he tilted his head slightly.
“I heard that Alamut Assassins are usually given long-term missions or stationed in one of the strongholds as commanding officers.” Altaïr explained before asking, “Even if you’re stationed in Alamut, since you’re here, does that mean you’re now part of the group that receives Al Mualim’s monthly orders?”
Oh.
Was that how Rashid was framing his reports?
That they were ‘orders’?
Wait.
More importantly.
“N-no.” Desmond said, feeling his heart drop when he saw the light in Altaïr’s eyes dim, “I’m… well… I’m stationed in Alamut as one of the Assassins who usually deal with the urgent missions.”
… weeeeellllll…
His main task currently was to learn everything that Diya al-Dīn and his wives do for the Brotherhood in preparation for him to succeed them.
But he was also one of the few Assassins in Alamut who stayed in Alamut so they could be sent in important time-sensitive missions as quickly as possible.
So it wasn’t a lie.
Just not the entire truth.
“Oh…” Altaïr looked down once more and his shoulders slumped, “I see…”
“Altaïr?”
“We’re not allowed to visit Alamut.” Altaïr said.
Yeah.
Desmond knew that.
Wait.
Did…
Did Altaïr want to visit him?
Would…
Would the mentors allow Desmond if he asked to be part of the monthly travels to Masyaf?
Nonononono.
Desmond must not be carried away by Altaïr’s disappointed, trying so hard not to look sad-
Stop.
Focus, Desmond.
No matter how much Desmond tries, there would always be the risk that Rashid would notice him if he kept coming to Masyaf.
It was simply too dangerous.
But…
Maybe the risk would be-
“Oh, Altaïr! Have you see-”
Both of them turned to the sound of Kadar’s voice and saw Kadar and Peredur staring at them with open mouths and wide eyes.
Kadar let out sounds that didn’t mean anything as he placed both hands on his crimson cheeks and Peredur pointed at Altaïr then at Desmond then at Altaïr again and then…
He pointed at Desmond’s hand which was still holding Altaïr’s cheek.
Desmond’s cheeks reddened as he realized just how it might have looked like, the two of them partially hidden in an alcove, so close to one another.
Oh, fuck!
Desmond dropped his hand and tried to step out of the alcove as he asked, “Oh, are you guys done with the to-”
Only to stop when he felt someone tug his other hand.
He turned around to look at the hand that was holding Altaïr’s hand.
The very same hand that Kadar and Peredur were now staring at.
“Uuuh…” Desmond tried to clear his throat but it felt like something was stuck in his throat. He still tried though, “Altaïr… can you… let go of my hand…”
“Please?”
He did try but even he heard the hesitation in his voice.
And Desmond knew it would be easy to misunderstand that hesitation as the kind of hesitation to let go and not-
Altaïr stared at their entwined hands for a moment before he raised his head to stare at Desmond. He pulled Desmond towards him, forcing Desmond take a few steps towards him.
Uuuhh…
What was Desmond thinking about again?
Altaïr leaned close, whispering by Desmond’s ear, “Safe travels, Vega.”
Desmond could only stare at Altaïr as he let go of Desmond’s hand and walk away, not even bothering to acknowledge Kadar or Peredur who were staring at him leave.
And Desmond could only place his hand over his hot ear, his entire face feeling just as hot as he thought…
There was no reason for Altaïr to say that so close to him.
Right?
Right?!
Notes:
To celebrate AC Mirage's release, have some more mind broken bottom Basim! XD
Announcement!
Next chapter is meant to be on Monday but I am unsure if it will be the usual time or if it will be later. The latest would be on Tuesday morning, I promise.
Chapter 37
Notes:
What’s that? You want Outsider POVs? No? Well, too bad because this chapter is Outsider POV galore! (Not really, there’s only like… two Outsider POVs)
(Edit 10/16/23) Thank you to alympx for telling me I wrote Peredur instead of Sirius in one part of this chapter!
Chapter Text
So this was Masyaf?
From how Old Man Bennu had described it, Aquila had been expecting something…
Scarier.
Rather than scary, it was… quiet.
The fortress itself looked a lot like the castle in Alamut so Aquila didn’t have any problem flying around. Desmond had stressed that he shouldn’t be seen and it wasn’t like he wanted to be seen by Maud anyway so he stayed high up in the air and kept his eyes peeled.
He couldn’t just stay with Desmond or the others because Desmond told him that no one should know he was part of their team.
Desmond had been oddly… more paranoid than usual.
But Aquila assumed that was because there was a chance that they’d see Maud and her not-human again.
Then again…
Desmond didn’t seemed to mind the human all that much.
If anything…
Aquila stopped when he heard a familiar whistle.
Which was strange.
That was Desmond’s whistle to tell Aquila that he should fly above Desmond and not stay close.
Aquila cautiously flew towards the high tower where he heard the whistle.
On the top of the tower roof itself, there was someone wearing similar robes as Desmond but…
He wasn’t wearing Desmond’s red shemagh.
He did, however, have golden eyes.
Aquila only hesitated for a moment before he flew towards the man that Desmond called Altaïr.
Also known as Maud’s not-human.
Altaïr raised his arm towards Aquila and Aquila didn’t really like how it was higher than Desmond’s, making him have to look down just to stare at Altaïr’s face but he rested his talons on the man’s leather gauntlet anyway.
“Hello.” Altaïr greeted in a slightly hesitant tone.
Aquila immediately looked around, wings at the ready to fly out of Altaïr’s arm if necessary.
“She’s not here.” Altaïr said, understanding who Aquila was looking for, “She doesn’t visit Masyaf.”
Aquila stared at him for a moment, suspicious of the honesty of his words.
Altaïr didn’t seemed to mind and only opened one of the small pouches on his belt, taking out a small strip of dry meat and offered it to Aquila.
Aquila stared at the meat for a moment before he turned his stare to Altaïr. Keeping his eyes on Altaïr, he took the offered meat and gobbled it up.
…
Desmond’s dry meat was better.
But this wasn’t that bad.
“You seemed to be as intelligent as Maud.”
Aquila puffed his chest, offended at being compared to Maud. Altaïr either didn’t understood it or simply ignored it because he took out a small rolled up piece of paper and asked, “Could you give this to Vega once you’re all out of Masyaf?”
Aquila stared at the rolled up piece of paper, a bit miffed that he was being asked to be a messenger pigeon.
Desmond was the only one he allowed that privilege!
Still…
Aquila used his wing to point at the pouch where the dry meat had been and waved his wing three times.
Altaïr’s eyes narrowed as he asked dryly, “I have a feeling Vega would not agree to your terms.”
Oh?
Aquila stared at him, wondering why he would think that.
… well, he wasn’t wrong.
Desmond only gave him treats when he did a good job (which was regularly because Aquila always did a good job!) and once a day.
But that didn’t mean Aquila was just going to let this go.
Aquila made his eyes look bigger and tilted his head, using his wing to lightly graze the rolled up paper in Altaïr’s other hand.
If this was Desmond, Aquila knew that it would be time for the bargaining phase and Aquila would end up with two treats instead of three which was fine with him, already used to Desmond’s bargain deals.
But this man…
This human had everything to lose by not acquiescing to Aquila’s demands and Aquila had nothing to lose.
Well, except for treats but Desmond was going to give him treats after they leave this place anyway.
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he sighed.
Aquila puffed his chest at another successful nego-
Aquila froze when he saw Altaïr placed the rolled up paper back into another small pouch on his belt. Altaïr lifted his arm and Aquila instinctively flapped his wings as Altaïr dropped his arms.
Waitwaitwaitwait.
Aquila let out a squawk to stop Altaïr from leaving the rooftop. Altaïr turned to stare at him once more and Aquila gingerly dropped to the rooftop, keeping his wings open just in case he fall off.
Aquila stared at Altaïr and squawked once more, hoping his question would get through.
Altaïr simply tilted his head.
Aquila stomped his little feet before stopping because he felt like he was losing his balance. He was trying to ask why Altaïr had suddenly decided that they had no deal.
Aquila…
Aquila have never lost in negotiations before!
He waved his wing towards the pouch that had the rolled up paper and squawked once more, making Altaïr frown at him.
“I don’t have the means to meet your demands.” Altaïr informed him, making Aquila stare at him for a moment before waving his wing towards the pouch that had the dry meats. Altaïr glanced at his pouch before turning to face Aquila once more as he explained, “I only have two left and I won’t be able to procure more until I leave Masyaf again.”
Aquila stared at Altaïr.
Is he…
Is he what Desmond would sometimes explain as a poor person pretending to have more than he actually did?
Aquila had only heard of Desmond talk about them with the other humans, he had never seen one before.
Then the dry meat he just ate…
Was that one of the last ones that Altaïr was supposed to ration before he could scour enough money to buy more food?
Had Aquila just robbed the poor?
Was Aquila a bad eagle???
Desmond would be so disappointed in him if he was to hear that Aquila had stolen from the poor!
It wasn’t like Aquila had intended to! This poor man had tricked him!
And now he was honor-bound to make up for eating what was left of the poor man’s food!
Aquila hopped closer to Altaïr and offered his left leg to him. Altaïr stared at him for a moment before reminding him, “I can’t give you any more meat.”
Aquila wouldn’t even want to if he offered! He had his dignity!
And he didn’t want Desmond to be disappointed at him.
So Aquila just shook his left leg as he stared at Altaïr, hoping he’d just hurry up so he wouldn’t have to see his ugly face and feel all guilty about it.
Altaïr continued to stare at him for a moment before his lips curved into a smile so small Aquila wasn’t even sure it was really there.
“You’re just as kind as your master.” Altaïr commented as he went down in one knee, making it look so easy to balance on top of a slopping rooftop as he took out the rolled up paper once more.
This time he took out a small piece of white ribbon but stopped to stare at the ribbon for a second before taking a red ribbon instead.
Aquila patiently waited for Altaïr to tie the rolled up paper on his leg using the red ribbon and even had to grab one of the end with his beak to pull it to show Altaïr that he needed to tie it tighter or it won’t be secured.
Once Aquila was satisfied that it was secured by shaking his leg a bit, he nodded at Altaïr.
Altaïr nodded back at him and Aquila considered that as his way of dismissing him so he finally flew away from the tower.
By that time, he circled Masyaf from the sky once more and saw Desmond’s group already a few meters away together with another person that Aquila wasn’t sure he knew. They were too small right now to be sure so he just flew towards them.
Once he was above them, he let out a cry to ask Desmond if it was okay to swoop down.
Desmond shouted at his team to slow down and Aquila waited until all their horses had stopped galloping and were now walking a decent speed that Aquila could swoop down without injuring himself or Desmond.
Normally, Aquila would stay at the back with the bags but he was sure Altaïr wanted Desmond to have his note as soon as possible so he rested his talons on Desmond’s shoulder instead.
“Why are we slowing down?” The person that Aquila didn’t know ask.
“Sorry about that. We’re just getting our other teammate.” Desmond replied lightly before turning to look at Aquila, “You’re late.”
Aquila let out a small grumbling sound as he jutted out his left leg as his way of explanation. Desmond blinked before untying the red ribbon and taking the rolled up piece of paper.
He unrolled it and…
Aquila didn’t know how to read human writing.
He had spent most of his life trying to understand human speech as that seemed more important.
But whatever Altaïr had written in that note…
Aquila knew Desmond enough to know that, behind the covers of his shemagh…
He was smiling.
Two of the three Assassins sent to escort him to Alamut were quite strange. He had expected to be the usual three Assassins who took Al Mualim’s report to be the ones to escort him, not… these two.
He had been introduced to them at the stables as, apparently, the one called Vega got ‘lost’.
When they got there, the man by the name of ‘Sirius’ looked like he was shaking with the need to do something while Vega was wearing a shemagh that kept his expression hidden but there was this… resignation in his eyes that Faheem had seen before with people that felt like death would be a better alternative to their current fate.
Kadar was with them and his cheeks were redder than he had ever seen from his youngest son whenever he had seen Altaïr with less clothes than usual.
For a moment, Faheem had been suspicious that they might have done something to his son but Kadar seemed to be alright, asking him to take care of himself and to write and to not forget to eat, tea didn’t count as food-
It was a speech that he had obviously memorized, most probably coming from Malik who could not return to Masyaf to say goodbye at the moment.
When Faheem had asked what had happened with him and the two other Assassins, Kadar’s cheeks reddened once more and he glanced at Vega.
And Faheem wondered if his longtime affection for Altaïr had transferred to Vega with just one meeting.
A flight of fancy.
Faheem hoped, anyway.
The strangeness of the two did not end there.
They had their horse galloping since they left Masyaf and they only slowed down when Vega ordered it. After they slowed down, an eagle with a letter tied to his leg rested on Vega’s shoulder.
A new order from ʾAʿlā Muḥammad perhaps?
“Vega?” Nahir called out in a questioning tone. Even though Nahir was at the front with Faheem behind him while the other two Assassins were at the rear of their group, Faheem could see that Nahir was deferring to Vega at the moment.
Did that mean that Vega was the leader of this group then?
Vega rolled the piece of paper back and tied it with the red ribbon with such careful and gentle movements before he placed it in one of his pouches.
“It’s nothing.” Vega said lightly, “Let’s go.”
Faheem waited to see if Nahir would push but he simply nodded, “Understood.”
With that simple word, they ordered their horses to gallop once more…
There were legends about the real Eagle Vision.
Not the ones they could do where the world would be washed in gray and they could see glowing colors that would dictate which ones were their allies and which ones were their foes for a few brief seconds.
It wasn’t also the one that Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad could do where he could see far beyond any of them could, far longer than any of them could. And it was still growing. He was the only one to have been able to use the Vision while on the move and…
Faheem hated the reason why he could push beyond what they had thought to have been the peak of their Sight.
But that wasn’t what was considered to be the real Eagle Vision as well.
The real Eagle Vision of the legends passed down from those who came before them say that they could see in the eyes of their chosen eagle.
That had been the reason why the mentor’s tower in Alamut had an aviary exclusively used by eagles.
Even now…
Alamut still clung into that legend even when all they had were rumors that the mentors of Alamut could still connect with their eagles.
Of course, Faheem knew for a fact that ʾAʿlā Muḥammad’s father only pretended he could. That eagle had been nothing more than a pet.
But Vega…
Vega’s eagle had flew ahead of them and a few minutes later, Vega ordered them to slow down and told them that there were crusaders preparing to ambush them a few meters ahead of them, using the rocks to hide their position.
They had no reason to believe him as there were no evidence to support his claims but the other two Assassins did believe his words even without any evidence. They had simply asked Vega what their next move should be and Sirius suggested if they should try to find a way to ambush them instead.
Faheem had been surprised when Vega simply stated, “No. Let’s use a different route. It’ll add another hour in our journey but that’ll be fine.”
Faheem didn’t bother to hide his displeasure. He had always been known for speaking his mind and he didn’t mind if it would annoy any of them.
Sirius had looked ready to punch him when he called Vega a coward for running away.
But then…
“Running away? That’s not my intention.” Vega was calm even in the face of Faheem’s insults. It was light, almost teasing.
But the words themselves…
“What do you think will happen if they report that the people they’re meant to ambush wasn’t there? It’s a long shot but I’m just hoping this would place a seed of doubt among them. If we’re lucky, they’ll get the wrong idea and believe…”
“… they can’t trust one another.”
Faheem remained quiet even as they arrived in Alamut. Shahid’s younger brother was waiting for them by the main gates and he simply nodded at Faheem before telling Vega, “The mentor wants you to escort Faheem Al-Sayf to his office.”
“Alright.” Vega nodded as he handed the reins of his horse to Shahid’s younger brother, “Thanks, Khalid.”
Khalid simply nodded and led the horse to the stable while Vega’s eagle flew off the saddle. Vega turned to face Faheem and nodded, “Please follow me.”
Faheem simply nodded back even though he knew where the mentor’s office was, having been born in Alamut.
Or…
He thought he did.
The mentor’s office was meant to be in the palace, near the large courtyard that would lead to the harem.
Not in this… office.
This was… Al Mualim’s private office when he had been in Alamut.
What was ʾAʿlā Muḥammad thinking, picking this room of all places?
Was it possible…
Did he still think of Al Mualim as the kind older brother who was there for him when his own father was not?
No.
ʾAʿlā Muḥammad would have already known…
Al Mualim had been using him when he had been a child as well.
“Welcome home, Faheem.”
“If you think I’ll say something ridiculous as ‘it’s good to be home’, I regret to inform you that you don’t remember me as well as you believe you do.” Faheem stated as he took a seat on one of the two seats on the other side of the desk while ʾAʿlā Muḥammad sat on the other side. Faheem glanced at the eagle perched on its own stand to the left of ʾAʿlā Muḥammad, staring at Faheem with unnerving eyes that looked like they were glowing thanks to the candles in the room.
“You were never the type to say such things. I would have been more worried had you said that.” ʾAʿlā Muḥammad said with a small smile.
Vega remained standing by the door even as ʾAʿlā Muḥammad's guards closed it.
“Still keeping them outside? Even when you know it’s safer if they stay inside the room with you?” Faheem asked bluntly.
“Only when I know I will be safe.” ʾAʿlā Muḥammad answered as he poured tea in the two cups on the desk.
Faheem’s brows furrowed as he recognized the hibiscus in the tea.
So… he still remembered.
But…
Faheem waited before ʾAʿlā Muḥammad took a sip of his cup before taking the cup. He sipped the tea.
As he had expected.
Not enough hibiscus, too much honey.
The way Umar Ibn-La’Ahad preferred.
“So… care to share why you’ve fallen from Rashid’s graces?” ʾAʿlā Muḥammad asked solemnly as he placed the cup back on the desk.
Faheem stared at the cup in his hand before he raised his head to stare at ʾAʿlā Muḥammad as he said, “Before I answer that, answer my question first.”
“Depends on the question.” ʾAʿlā Muḥammad said with a smile even though there was a hint of warning in his tone.
“Why is he here?” Faheem asked as he used his thumb to point at Vega who was silently standing by the door.
Too silently.
He couldn’t even hear the young man breath.
“Ah.” ʾAʿlā Muḥammad stared at Faheem for a moment before he smirked as he turned to look at his eagle, “I suppose I could tell you. You’re too honorable to be Rashid’s spy, in my opinion.”
The eagle stared at ʾAʿlā Muḥammad for a moment before it seemed like it was nod-
No.
Faheem was being swayed by the legends once more.
There was no way someone like ʾAʿlā Muḥammad would be able to connect with his eagle.
He was doing this to play his role as the mentor. To continue the farce that the mentors of Alamut could still connect with their eagle.
ʾAʿlā Muḥammad turned to nod at Vega who walked towards him.
His footsteps made no sounds and he walked to ʾAʿlā Muḥammad’s right side so quickly it was like he had gracefully glided across the room.
“While we have yet to make an official announcement, this is our oldest son.” ʾAʿlā Muḥammad introduced as Vega took off his shemagh, “Desmond.”
Faheem’s eyes widened as he saw the face that had been hidden by the shemagh.
They weren’t mirror image of one another but…
He looked so much like him that Faheem could not help but say…
“That adulterous bastard…”
Chapter Text
Desmond had been surprised by the sudden vulgar words coming from someone who looked a lot like Malik that he could only blink while trying to keep his blank expression.
Thankfully, Diya al-Dīn laughed, destroying the awkward air around them. He covered his hand as if to hide the fact that he was laughing before saying, “My… my apologies, Faheem. I didn’t expect such passionate words come from you of all people.”
Faheem narrowed his eyes at Diya al-Dīn as he asked, “Then I suppose you have proof that he is not Umar’s child?”
Diya al-Dīn turned to look at Desmond who glanced at him before answering Faheem’s question, “I’m not Umar Ibn-La’Ahad’s child.”
“How are you sure your mother didn’t lie to you?” Faheem asked with narrowed eyes.
“My mother was a lot of things but she wasn’t a liar.” Desmond answered vaguely, “And I know for certain that I am not Umar Ibn-La’Ahad’s son because the timeline wouldn’t work.”
“The… timeline…?”
“Umar Ibn-La’Ahad would have to be in a very far away place…” and a very faraway time… “… around the same time he conceived Altaïr for him to be my father.”
“Desmond is a descendant of the Hidden Ones that had been left in crusader lands.” Diya al-Dīn added, making Faheem cross his arms.
“I see you’re still trying to collect relics.” Faheem dryly stated.
Desmond couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at Faheem. Ever since he entered Diya al-Dīn’s office, he had been nothing but rude to Diya al-Dīn.
“It’s as Rashid said the day before he left this place…” Diya al-Dīn commented with a mirthless smile, “We are chained to the past.”
Diya al-Dīn’s smile turned slightly venomous as he asked back, “Did you manage to find the future Rashid promised?”
Faheem glared at him while Diya al-Dīn simply continued to smile at him.
While Desmond felt awkward, standing next to Diya al-Dīn as these two men continued their verbal battle.
“Whatever future Al Mualim wishes for Masyaf, it seems I’m no longer part of it.” Faheem admitted with a slight growl before sighing. He dropped his hands to grab the cup and sipped his tea once more before asking, “So? Which bureau are you shipping me off to? Somewhere that doesn’t rain too much, I hope. My knees ache whenever it rains.”
“Oh, I have a medicine for that.” Diya al-Dīn said in lighter tone and Desmond immediately went towards the table filled with all of Diya al-Dīn’s medical equipment and medicines. Faheem stared at Desmond with wary eyes as he placed a bottle next to Faheem’s cup.
“Only drink a spoonful when you feel the ache.” Desmond instructed, not bothering to tell Faheem that it was actually a pain reliever and not something that would cure the ache itself, “Don’t try to drink the entire thing in one swing.”
Desmond walked back to Diya al-Dīn’s side who was simply smiling at Faheem.
“I’m not drinking anything you make.” Faheem stated with a glare.
“How rude.” Diya al-Dīn clicked his tongue and shook his head, “I’m not as inexperience as I was before, Faheem. Our people call me the doctor around here.”
“I still remember that vile thing you had me and Umar drink that had us vomiting over the sid-” Faheem stopped his shouting and took a deep breath. He cleared his throat before saying calmly, “I apologize.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Diya al-Dīn asked lightly before saying with a smile, “Oh, have you grown more mature now, Faheem?”
“I can and I will shave your head again.” Faheem warned.
“I would like to see you try. I usually sleep in the harem with my beautiful wives.” Diya al-Dīn said lightly.
And Desmond wished someone would inform Diya al-Dīn that there was a siege happening so he would have an excuse to leave.
Diya al-Dīn glanced at Desmond and his smile grew before he turned to stare at Faheem once more, “So… we answered your question… I believe it’s time you answered ours.”
Faheem glanced at Desmond before turning his attention to Diya al-Dīn, “I supposed you did… even if your answer wasn’t to my satisfaction.”
“When have you ever been satisfied?” Diya al-Dīn asked lightly.
“And when have you ever gotten what you wanted?” Faheem dryly asked back.
“I actually have gotten quite a lot of what I wanted.” Diya al-Dīn answered with a smile, “Ever since my father died.”
“Shame Al Mualim couldn’t do the same.” Faheem said in a low tone that would have been easy to miss.
Diya al-Dīn stared at him and Desmond could see that Diya al-Dīn and Faheem had lost any lightness they had harbored even though they had been casually insulted one another.
“Now this is curious.” Diya al-Dīn leaned against the back of his chair as he said, “The Faheem that left Alamut all those years ago would have followed Rashid to the deepest pit of hell and throw himself to death’s door himself if Rashid had ordered it. Yet, here you are, wishing for his death.”
“It makes me curious to what Rashid had done for the wool over your eyes to finally be pulled away.”
Faheem was quiet for a moment before he glanced at Desmond once more. He didn’t say anything though, instead lowering his head to stare at the cup of tea in his hands as he said, “Umar’s son liked his tea the same way he did.”
Diya al-Dīn blinked and Desmond could feel that they were both confused by the sudden mention of Umar Ibn-La’Ahad.
“Out of the three of us, Umar had been the most loyal.” Faheem continued, “Not that it’s surprising considering it was Al Mualim who found him and brought him to Alamut. He owed his life to Al Mualim… and Al Mualim treated him like a son.”
Faheem’s expression darkened as he continued, “That’s why I thought he would agree with my suggestion that we weather Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s siege instead of giving Umar up. I had thought that Umar was important to him.”
“When he let Umar sacrifice himself… let him leave his only son alone…” Faheem’s grip on his cup tightened, “I was too blind to see the truth. No…”
“I forced myself to believe it was because Al Mualim had chosen to protect everyone. That sacrificing Umar must have hurt him but he did so anyway for everyone’s sake.”
“You could still be right.” Diya al-Dīn said quietly, “When you are in charge of so many lives, you will sometimes be forced to give up the lives of others.”
“Then would you have done it?” Faheem asked as he turned to stare at Diya al-Dīn, “Would you have sacrificed Umar to save everybody else?”
Diya al-Dīn stared at him for a moment before his lips curved into a small smile void of any happiness, “Had you asked me that years ago… I would have said no. But…”
Diya al-Dīn looked at the stacks of papers on the right side of his desk, “I’ve learned that no matter how much I wished for an alternative, no matter how many times I looked and tried to find another path… sometimes… there is no other path to take.”
“However…” Diya al-Dīn turned to stare at Faheem as he added, “I am a selfish man, Faheem. If it was someone I see as my son… someone I love and care for…”
“I won’t be able to do it.” Diya al-Dīn admitted.
“Married life does change a man.” Faheem said and Desmond couldn’t help but sense something he couldn’t be quite sure in Faheem’s tone.
Longing?
Guilt?
Somewhere in between?
“Was that when you realized Rashid for who he really is?” Diya al-Dīn asked.
“No.” Faheem shook his head before he looked down on his cup once more, “It’s…”
“My son is friends with Umar’s boy.”
Desmond bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from commenting. Calling Malik and Altaïr friends right now was a bit…
“My oldest son, Malik, doesn’t quite like him though but Kadar does and his friendship with the boy only seem to help him get better so I allowed it.”
Oooohhh, he meant Kadar.
Now Desmond felt bad for actually forgetting that Kadar and Altaïr were friends.
Wait.
Were they friends?
The way Desmond remembered it, it was more like Kadar looked up to Altaïr while Altaïr simply treated him the way he treated everybody else.
“I haven’t paid the boy any attention at all as I believed that Al Mualim would take care of him. But…” Faheem sighed and rubbed his eyes before continuing, “A few weeks ago, he came up to me and asked about Alamut.”
Desmond froze.
A few weeks ago…
Faheem didn’t specify it but Desmond couldn’t help but think…
Was it after Altaïr met him?
“He was asking about Alamut?” Diya al-Dīn asked as he stared at Faheem but Desmond knew that Diya al-Dīn was wondering if Altaïr didn’t ask about Vega.
Desmond did tell him and the mentors he met with Altaïr during his mission after all.
He also told them he didn’t use aconite because he deemed that Altaïr’s mission didn’t coincide with the parameters they had given to him to use the poison. Altaïr was ordered to assist the Saracens, after all.
“Just how Alamut looked like and how things are done in Alamut.” Faheem waved his hand as if to dismiss the questions as unimportant, “I told him that I could only tell him what Alamut was when I was here and he still wished to hear my answer so we talked while having tea.”
Seeing Faheem stare at his cup of tea once more, Desmond guessed that it was during that talk that he learned how Altaïr liked his tea.
“Our conversation soon strayed to other topics… mostly stories of my youth.” Faheem continued, “And stories about Umar.”
“That boy…” Faheem’s face darkened as he continued, “He’s good at hiding his emotions but the way his face lit up when I started to tell him stories about Umar… it was like he had never heard anyone tell him about his own father before.”
“I thought that was strange.” Faheem let go of the cup and raised his head to stare at Diya al-Dīn as he continued, “So I started to observe him. That’s how I…”
Faheem halted for a moment and glanced at Desmond before continuing, “That boy has been working himself too much for far too long. He’s one of- no. He’s already the best of all of the Assassins in Masyaf but he still keeps on training even when he should be resting. He wakes up too early and goes to sleep too late. Even when he has no missions, he spends his day training one way or another.”
“The only time he seems to truly rest is when his body is ready to give out.” Faheem said as he covered his eyes, “I feel so ashamed by the fact that I have never seen it before. Everyone in Masyaf thinks that this is normal for him. Even my own son who is supposed to be his friend thinks that this is simply who Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad is.”
Faheem lowered his hand as he continued, “So I brought it to Al Mualim. I was foolish enough to think that that old man didn’t know that Altaïr has been working himself to death. You know what he told me?”
Faheem didn’t wait for Diya al-Dīn to ask as he repeated in a solemn tone, “This is what Altaïr wants. He wants to surpass Desmond Ibn-La’Ahad. All we can do is support his wishes.”
Desmond froze at those words.
“I… my blood boiled when I heard him say that.” Faheem admitted, “I… I couldn’t contain myself. I told him how Umar had entrusted his son to him and, here he was, using him as a tool to…”
“To show that Masyaf will not lose to Alamut.” Diya al-Dīn finished as he turned to look at Bennu. Bennu’s golden eyes stared back at him and Desmond noticed Bennu tap his left foot slightly.
Diya al-Dīn turned to Faheem once more as he said, “And that’s how you fell off Rashid’s grace then. You should count yourself fortunate.”
“How am I supposed to be fortunate in this situation?” Faheem spatted, “My years as a member of Al Mualim’s council has blinded me from what is right in front of me!”
“Had you fallen off his graces in a more peaceful time, Rashid would have sent you to Alamut without any protection.” Diya al-Dīn reminded him before turning to look at Desmond, “How many ambushes?”
“Three.” Desmond answered, “One crusader patrol and two groups of bandits.”
Faheem stared at him as he said, “You only told us about the crusaders.”
Desmond shrugged as he explained, “The two bandit groups were planning to ambush us in the paths I didn’t have us take. I had Aquila send word to the other squad to take them out.”
“There’s another squad?” Faheem asked with a frown.
“We have two more squads near the paths Desmond could choose for you all to take.” Diya al-Dīn explained, “It would be too risky to have Desmond’s squad take them down and, this way, those squads could bring any survivor to our nearest bureau and interrogate them.”
“Not that we believe Rashid would be foolish enough to let them have evidence of his part in all these but it’s better to be thorough.” Diya al-Dīn nodded at Desmond before saying to Faheem, “One of the recruits will show you to your room. Rest and unpack. We will talk about your position here in Alamut tomorrow.”
“You’re not sending me off somewhere far away?”
“Why should we?” Diya al-Dīn smiled at him as he said, “You’re much more useful to us here in Alamut.”
Faheem looked like he didn’t believe Diya al-Dīn at all but Diya al-Dīn just chuckled and said, “You’re dismissed, Faheem.”
“As you command, mentor.” Faheem replied as he stood, giving a slightly mocking bow before walking out of the room.
The moment the door closed, Diya al-Dīn said, “It’s not your fault.”
Desmond turned to stare at him and Diya al-Dīn stared back as he said gently, “It is Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad’s choice. You are not to blame for his actions.”
Isn’t it?
The only reason why Altaïr was like this…
… was because Desmond existed in this time period.
Diya al-Dīn stood and patted Desmond’s shoulder as he said, “Go and get some rest. There’s still some time before dinner.”
Desmond nodded as he said, “Okay. I’ll see you all at dinner.”
Desmond nodded at Bennu before walking out of the room as well.
A month passed and it was… well… Desmond supposed eventful wouldn’t exactly be accurate. al-Sham and all lands near Jerusalem were still waiting for Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s next moves. They have heard rumors that he was planning to reopen the Christian churches and welcome the Jews back in Jerusalem but there were also rumors that he was planning to fortify Acre and start building ships to wage war in crusader lands.
That latter one Desmond was sure was just baseless rumors though.
So, in terms of how the ‘world’ was doing, the rest of October and November weren’t exactly eventful.
Everyone were walking on eggshells waiting for Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s next big move right now.
On the other hand…
The past month has been quite eventful here in Alamut.
Faheem was given the title of the imam’s representative in the scholar’s tower which Faheem hated, telling everyone who congratulated him that this was Diya al-Dīn’s punishment because they grew up together and Diya al-Dīn knew that Faheem hated talking to scholars.
Now that he was the representative though, it was up to him to listen to the scholars’ concerns and ensure that the tower was operating properly.
And Faheem had two major headaches at the moment that Desmond had a hand with.
Well…
Okay.
The first one was that, because Khalid’s research was in the scholar’s tower, Faheem was technically his boss now but, at the same time, Khalid was doing research under Diya al-Dīn’s direct orders… with Desmond as his trusty co-researcher (part time). Faheem would regularly ‘visit’ their station, holding a paper that listed complaints about their research (usually the ominous laughter Khalid and Desmond would do which Desmond would like to stress was an overreaction, it was more like a chuckle, really) or when Khalid would send an expenses report or request.
The second one wasn’t truly Desmond’s fault and it also had to do with Khalid and…
Peredur.
So…
The day they returned to Alamut with Faheem, Peredur had requested that he be excused of any missions or duties for an entire month and, normally, that kind of request would never see the light of day.
But…
Desmond couldn’t believe he had to live in a world where books loosely based on him had gotten the attention of enough people that the books themselves were… well…
They were profitable.
And the scholars had banded together to support Peredur’s writing as the profit they received from those books mostly go to the finances exclusive to the scholar’s tower.
So yeah…
Peredur was granted the one month off due to his high standing with the scholars and Desmond had not seen him since then.
Recruits would bring him food and clean the office given to him by the scholars on the seventh floor of the tower.
And Desmond had been forbidden to see him specifically.
Desmond knew the drill by now.
Every time Peredur got into this writing frenzy, Desmond would just be a distraction from him but…
He was a bit worried.
Khalid was one of the people who reads Peredur’s drafts and even helps in the editing and…
Khalid had been very tight-lipped about it.
The only time he even talked to Desmond about the book in some way was to ask him “What do you think of Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad?”
And he didn’t even bother to wait for Desmond’s answer, just staring at his face before changing the subject to bemoan how unfortunate it was that Desmond wasn’t able to poison his brother.
Oh and he also didn’t know where his brother’s office was if he did have one.
He did laugh when Desmond admitted he put a bit of poison in the water he saw in Rashid’s private office though.
So… Desmond was dreading what Peredur was writing right now.
And he was dreading the day Faheem would finally have the time to read those books and realize they were about him.
“Desmond.”
Desmond stopped and turned to face Faheem who was walking towards him just as he stepped out of the thermae for his nightly bath.
Faheem’s face was marred by a frown and Desmond was already wondering if it was related to Khalid or to Peredur this time.
“The Assassins who takes Al-” Faheem stopped and corrected himself, “Rashid’s reports just returned.”
“They’re a bit later than usual.” Desmond commented even though he already knew about it as Aquila had nudged on their connection while he was having a bath so he was able to watch them return from Aquila’s eyes.
It was late though and Bennu hasn’t come to pick him up so Desmond assumed the reports weren’t informative enough for him to be summoned to the harem. Maybe tomorrow, they’ll tell him during breakfast.
“They had to use a different route. Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s men have been patrolling further than usual.” Faheem informed him and Desmond hummed at that.
That didn’t explain why Faheem was talking to him about this though.
Faheem’s frown deepened as he mumbled, “You even have the same expression…”
“Huh?”
“Here. The reason why I’m talking to you about this.” Faheem answered Desmond’s silent question and handed Desmond a small folded piece of paper.
Desmond blinked as he took the paper from Faheem’s hand.
“That was inside the letter Kadar asked Nahir to give to me. Kadar told me not to read it and to give it to the Assassin named Vega.” Faheem informed him before admitting, “I did open it and read the first few lines.”
“That’s called a breach of trust.” Desmond dryly stated even as he unfolded the paper.
“It’s called worrying if my son developed feelings for an Assassin he met once.” Faheem retorted in a similar dry tone, “I stopped reading once I recognized that he didn’t write the letter and who had written the letter.”
Desmond’s eyes widened as he recognized the handwriting immediately.
Vega,
I trust that this letter finds you in good health and that Faheem Al-Sayf honors his son’s request to not read this letter at all.
Desmond couldn’t help but smile.
And he didn’t notice that, without his shemagh to hide his face, Faheem would see the expression he was making as he read Altaïr’s letter.
Chapter 39
Notes:
Hey, guys. Head’s up. I’ve been asked by AO3 to delete 7 of the tumblr posts I uploaded about fic ideas because fic ideas are not allowed as stated here:
Prompts, ideas for fanworks, and requests for inspiration are not fanworks and should not be posted as works. Instead, please use our prompt challenge feature to post or solicit prompts. For more information about prompt challenges, please refer to our FAQ: https://archiveofourown.info/faq/prompt-meme
Since my account already has a warning placed on it, I’ve decided to delete all the Tumblr posts I uploaded here in AO3 just to be safe with the exceptions of A Welcoming Darkness, A Short Rest and The Progenitor of Darkness as they are written to be more or less like traditional fanfics. They’re all still in Tumblr though… if you can find them.
Sorry, guys. :(
Chapter Text
Vega,
I trust that this letter finds you in good health.
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile.
Altaïr always started his letters the same each time but Desmond didn’t mind.
Altaïr’s usual letters had always been short and straight to the point.
Even the small note that he had given Aquila before had simply been ‘be careful on your journey’ but Desmond had found it cute all the same.
He knew just how much time and effort Altaïr was putting in his letter to not make it sound as dry as the reports he would give to the Rafiqs or to Al Mualim.
But he also couldn’t write as many pages as he wanted while his thoughts wander as he was limited to one page only so that it wouldn’t look too strange to slip it into the letter Kadar gives to the Alamut Assassins visiting Masyaf to take Rashid’s report for his father every month. This meant that each word had been chosen carefully and he probably spent a lot of time thinking of which topic to talk about in his letters.
Desmond wasn’t sure why Altaïr was being secretive about it though.
Was he hiding them from Rashid?
Or did he believe that the Alamut Assassins wouldn’t take his letters if they knew it was addressed to Vega?
Desmond didn’t mind either way…
Well…
It would be nice if Faheem would stop staring at him with that small frown on his face whenever he had to deliver Altaïr’s letter but it was a small price to pay, all things considered.
Plus, Faheem was alright with slipping Desmond’s letter to Altaïr in his reply to his son anyway.
Unlike Desmond who had a month or so to write his reply, Altaïr probably already had a letter ready as their Assassins would leave Masyaf an hour or so after receiving Rashid’s report. Not enough time to write a reply after reading Desmond’s letter.
At the very least, Desmond would be unable to do it.
Also…
“Here.” Faheem handed Desmond a small box with the words “for father! - Kadar” written in a piece of paper that had been pressed against the box using the ropes keeping the box sealed.
Desmond had been wondering why Faheem had been knocking on the door of Desmond’s room in the middle of the night and the man gave no greeting and simply handed the box to him once Desmond had opened the door.
Desmond blinked.
Altaïr did mention that he had sent something with his letter this time but he wasn’t expecting it to be in a box as wide as his chest.
Faheem had probably only learned about it because he had finally read Kadar’s letter. Faheem usually just open the letter and give Desmond Altaïr’s letter before returning to his duties, only reading his son’s letter during the evening.
Unlike Desmond who would read it as soon as he knew he was alone and wouldn’t be disturbed.
“It’s one of the daggers I left in our home.” Faheem said while Desmond used one hand to pull the ribbon off, “Kadar wrote in his letter that he was sending it back to me because it was ‘taking up space’. The present Umar’s boy sent for you is underneath the dagger.”
Underneath the dagger?
Desmond opened the box and nodded gratefully when Faheem took the top of the box from him. He looked inside and saw a nice looking dagger, it didn’t look anything special.
But underneath it was…
Desmond blinked.
It a simple white cloth, most probably used to cushion the dagger so it wouldn’t rattle all around the box too much. Faheem took both the dagger and the cloth out of the box and…
Oh.
Hidden by the cloth was a box as big as the other box but only about two inches thin. If Desmond wasn’t staring at the box carefully, he would have missed it or assumed it was a false bottom. Instead, he turned the box upside down and the thinner box slowly slid out of the box. Desmond caught it before it fell just as Faheem took the box from him, returning both the cloth and the dagger.
Desmond opened this box and blinked.
Inside were dry flowers.
They weren’t wilted at all.
It looked like they had been dried deliberately and…
I will dye them next time so they would be as vibrant as they were before.
Desmond had been confused of what he meant by that.
But now…
Desmond realized that these were all red flowers.
Different kinds of flowers that were most probably native in al-Sham or the other lands close by.
Desmond couldn’t help the way his lips curved into a gentle smile as he thought of how much care Altaïr must have given each of these flowers. He must have picked them while he was on missions away from Masyaf and he would have had placed them somewhere they wouldn’t be damaged while he was on horseback on the way back.
And then he would have dried them as well.
Desmond didn’t even want to touch them, afraid that he’d touch them too hard and they would crumble or break.
Desmond carefully closed the box once more and raised his head to say, “Thank you, Fah-”
Desmond’s words halted when he saw the solemn look on Faheem’s face.
“Faheem?”
“What are you planning, Desmond?” Faheem asked.
Desmond simply tilted his head even though he was quite sure what Faheem had meant with that question.
“These secret letters you have with Umar’s boy are obviously personal so you’re not trying to use him to spy on Rashid. You also haven’t told ʾAʿlā Muḥammad about these.” Faheem stated as he stared at Desmond.
“I have no plans to get Altaïr involved in whatever history Rashid has with us.” Desmond said as he walked inside his room. Faheem remained outside, watching Desmond place the box on top of the desk.
“He already is.” Faheem reminded him, “Rashid is still his master and you are still ʾAʿlā Muḥammad’s son.”
Desmond stared at the box silently as Faheem continued, “Sooner or later, he’ll find out you’re the one he had been compared to his entire life and the longer you keep it a secret-”
“The more he’d hate me?” Desmond finished for him.
Faheem was quiet for a few seconds before he said as he gripped the box he held in his hands tightly, “That’s what you want. You want him to hate you.”
Desmond wondered what Faheem was seeing that was giving Desmond away. Was it his expression? His body language? The tone of his voice?
Whatever it was, Desmond would guess it was small mercy that it was Faheem who realized it.
He has no reason to tell anyone about this. No. He was too honorable to spill Desmond’s secret to anyone.
And maybe…
Desmond wanted someone to know.
Who better than Faheem Al-Sayf, an honorable man who would not tell a soul?
But…
Desmond couldn’t tell him everything.
He couldn’t.
Desmond turned to smile at Faheem as he said, “Good night, Faheem. Thank you for bringing this.”
Faheem stared at him for a moment before leaving after closing the door, not even bothering to say anything. Desmond waited until he couldn’t hear Faheem’s footsteps anymore. He still waited a bit more just to be sure Faheem had returned to his quarters a floor below Desmond’s.
That had been the reason why Faheem could give Desmond all of these secret letters, after all.
Faheem had been moved to the mentor’s tower a month after he arrived in Alamut and he had spent the last few months serving as messenger between them.
It would come to an end soon enough.
This year, a year after Jerusalem fell…
Diya al-Dīn had informed him that they were going to host a celebration where they would introduce Jalāl and he would be introducing Desmond as their official son as well during that time.
Rashid would send a representative and Kadar would ask to be part of their entourage to visit his father and then…
Kadar would tell Altaïr about him.
And Altaïr would be smart enough to piece together who Vega truly was.
After that…
Desmond caressed the box as he closed his eyes.
Altaïr will hate him and would never send him a letter once more…
And the timeline…
… will correct itself.
On May 1188, the current emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Frederick Barbarossa, sent an envoy to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn. It would be a few more weeks before Alamut would hear that the envoy had been sent to officially call off the truce between Barbarossa and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
No one in Alamut were surprised.
Those in high standing in crusader lands must have seen Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s capture of Jerusalem as an insult. Many of them probably even cried out that it was blasphemous or the work of the devil or whatever rot they wanted to pin into Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s actions.
The following weeks were the busiest Desmond had been since he had arrived here. Meals with his family turned into informal meetings of what they should do to prepare for Barbarossa’s army, all the while trying to predict everyone’s move.
Desmond tried to hint that this was going to lead to the Third Crusades and he had been surprised when none of them told him he was being ridiculous.
If anything, they all seemed to have come to the same conclusion.
While they didn’t have any confirmation that any other kings have agreed to send their own forces, they would do so sooner or later.
Taking over Jerusalem had simply been too much of a move to be left alone in the eyes of the crusaders and their religious leaders.
Desmond did wonder if Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had known that there will be another crusade if he took Jerusalem.
If he knew that, that must have meant that he took Jerusalem regardless of the risks.
And now…
All of the lands near Jerusalem and all the lands the crusaders would travel too would feel the impact of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s and Raynald’s actions.
“Ḥalab?” Desmond asked with a slight frown.
“That’s right.” Nur nodded before taking a sip of her tea. She placed the tea back on the short table between them as she continued, “Ḥalab is under Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s son, az-Zahir Ghazi. His uncle, Al-Adil, had trained him before he returned to Egypt. As such, az-Zahir Ghazi inherited his uncle’s… penchant for neutrality.”
“I assume that ‘neutrality’ will only last until his father calls for him to bear arms.” Desmond dryly stated, turning to look at the door that would lead out of the inner gardens as he asked, “So, what am I supposed to do in Ḥalab?”
“It’s not official but we have a peace treaty with Ḥalab’s rulers and it is up to those who rule over Ḥalab to inform their successor.” Nur explained, “There is bad blood between Rashid and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn due to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s failed siege on Masyaf a few years ago but he does know of our treaty. He won’t acknowledge it but that’s fine.”
“All that matters is that his son honors the treaty.” Nur stated calmly.
Desmond stared at Nur for a moment before his eyes widened as he realized, “You want me to meet with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s son.”
“That’s right.” Nur nodded and placed a folded letter on the table as she continued, “This should be enough to grant you an audience with him and…”
She took another letter, this time tied by a red ribbon, and said, “You will give this to him after you have introduced yourself as Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III. It’s a letter of recognition written by our dear beloved. It will show the legitimacy of your claims and will tell him that you speak for Alamut.”
Desmond stared at the letters on the table before raising his head to ask dryly, “Can I have a different name?”
“You’d have to ask our beloved for that.” Nur said with a smile, “He had been quite happy when he thought of your name, after all.”
Well, if she said it like that, there was no way Desmond could say no anymore.
Not when…
Nūr al-Dīn Muḥammad II named him himself.
“Desmond.”
Desmond turned around and faced Faheem who frowned when he saw that Desmond was still wearing his shemagh.
“You should call me Vega for now.” Desmond said as he glanced around. Thankfully, since this was a diplomatic mission (of sort), they were doing the final checks of their caravan in the castle’s main square instead of the stables so everyone here knew him as both Desmond and Vega.
“You’re still going as Vega?” Faheem asked as he crossed his arms.
“Sorta.” Desmond made a seesaw motion with his hand before explaining, “az-Zahir is expecting a high-ranking member of our Brotherhood to come to Ḥalab so I’ll change to Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III when we’re an hour or so away from Ḥalab.”
Desmond smoothed his Assassin robes as he said, “He won’t probably be surprised to see me in this since we Assassins don’t really do fancy clothes but he might be offended if I cover my face after all.”
“If we Assassins don’t really do ‘fancy’ clothes then how do you explain that?” Faheem asked as he pointed at Hamaal who was entering one of the more ornate wagons they had that looked more like a small portable one room home that will be pulled by the camels. Desmond wasn’t entirely sure what they were actually called and no one bothered to explain it to him.
And Desmond was sure Faheem was more concerned about the unnecessarily ornate outfit that Hamaal was wearing and the many jewelry that adorned him. Hamaal seemed to have sensed that Faheem and Desmond were looking at him because he just waved at them before entering the little room.
“He’s playing my double.” Desmond explained as Faheem turned his attention back to him.
“Your double.” Faheem dryly stated as he crossed his arms once more.
“Yup. We can never be careful, after all, so we decided Hamaal will pretend to be Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III while we’re traveling.” Desmond said with a shrug before adding more seriously, “Besides, I’m supposed to be leading this caravan. I can’t do that from inside that little room.”
“It’s not a ro-” Faheem sighed as he shook his head, “Never mind.”
Faheem took out a small folded piece of paper and handed it to Desmond as he said, “Here.”
Desmond took the paper as he tilted his head.
“My oldest son, Malik, is stationed in the Assassin stronghold in Ḥalab. Give him that letter and he’ll give you something addressed to me.” Faheem explained.
Malik was in Ḥalab?
Huh.
Desmond had no memories of that. Then again, other than the feeling of longtime annoyance Altaïr held for Malik, he really had no memories from Altaïr about Malik until July 1191.
“Oh.” Desmond placed the small folded piece of paper inside one of his pouches as he said, “Yeah, okay. Az-Zahir wouldn’t probably be offended if we request we stay in our stronghold instead of his castle.”
“Don’t.”
Desmond blinked, surprised by the suddenness of Faheem’s word.
Faheem’s brows furrowed as he explained, “Before I left Masyaf, there were talks that Rashid will be sending his Keeper to Ḥalab.”
His Keeper…
It was the title given to the Assassin that the mentor had appointed as his second-in-command. In times of emergency, the Keeper could take over as the leader of the Brotherhood until the mentor was able to return to his duties or a new mentor would be chosen.
Although…
The last time Alamut had an official Keeper had been years ago…
When the title was still Rashid’s.
After he became ‘Al Mualim’, the Keeper title was left vacant.
Or…
One can say it still belonged to Rashid.
Still…
Desmond had no memories of who Rashid’s Keeper was…
Although…
There was this nagging feeling that seemed to be knocking in his head about how he should know who the Keeper was.
He just couldn’t understand why.
“Harash is loyal to Rashid. He won’t hurt you or the others but he’d make your stay in the stronghold miserable.” Faheem explained, “I don’t think he would be stupid enough to do anything more without Rashid’s permission but he’d probably order the Assassins stationed there to… do the barest minimum to make your stay there… endurable…”
Faheem leaned closer and placed a hand on Desmond’s shoulder, making Desmond freeze at the sudden contact. Faheem stayed close and whispered near his ear, “You should be careful. Rashid knows about your younger brother and… given a chance, Rashid wouldn’t feel any remorse ordering your death if it meant someone as talented as you wouldn’t become the next imam.”
Faheem leaned back as he continued even though his next words didn’t connect with what he had just said, “Those are just rumors about Harash anyway. Baseless rumors but better safe than sorry, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes…” Desmond nodded as he replied, “That’s true.”
“De!”
Faheem took a few steps back and took another step to the side, letting a young boy rushed towards Desmond. The young boy held onto Desmond’s robes as he stared up to him, “Don’ go!”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile and he patted the boy’s head as he said, “I have to go, asfoor.”
He went on one knee and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders as he promised, “I’ll bring you a souvenir, okay? So you have to promise you’d be good and listen to our parents while I’m away.”
The boy wrapped his short chubby arms around Desmond’s neck and had to go on his tiptoes just to hug Desmond even when Desmond was already kneeling, “See you soon?”
“Yes.” Desmond patted the boy’s back as he returned his hug, “I promise I’ll be back soon.”
“Jalāl…”
Desmond let go of the boy so he could turn around just as Diya al-Dīn walked towards them, flanked by his two guards as usual. Diya al-Dīn glanced at Faheem who remained quiet before smiling at Desmond and the boy, “Come, Jalāl. Your brother needs to go now.”
Jalāl’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, “Okay.”
“Bye, De.” Jalāl waved at Desmond as he grabbed their father’s hand before waving at Desmond’s horse where Aquila was sitting on the back of the saddle, “Bye, a’foo.”
Aquila hesitantly waved one of his wings and Desmond tried not to smile, knowing the bird was remembering Jalāl’s latest favorite game: chase and hug Aquila until he squawks. At least, Aquila knew Jalāl didn’t mean to hurt him so he plays with him.
… and that Desmond will give him more treats if he starts cooing pathetically after playing with Jalāl.
Instead, Desmond stood and said, “We’ll be going now.”
“Go in peace, my son.”
Chapter 40
Notes:
Just a head’s up, guys, next chapter will be on November 9, Thursday next week :)
Chapter Text
“I trust that you’ll do well, Al Shira?” Desmond asked as he kept his horse next to the little room where Hamaal was pretending to be him.
“I thought the plan was for you to take over once we’re near Ḥalab?” Hamaal asked casually as he peered through the small window.
“It was but, well...” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he said instead, “Faheem warned us that Rashid’s Keeper might be in Ḥalab. He’ll be watching us when we enter. I just want to see his reaction once he meets me and I look different from the man who approached the sultan in the entrance.”
“So you want to observe what happens as Vega first.” Hamaal hummed, “That does sound like you. Sure, I’ll be your double… not that I look anything like you.”
“Shame. I guess you’d stop using Vega after your brother's party.” Hamaal noted before shrugging, “Oh, well. It was nice using our codename-”
“What makes you think I’ll stop using Vega?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“Uuuhh... because people would know who you are now?” Hamaal replied, although his voice was more uncertain than usual.
Desmond sighed as he reminded Hamaal, “Yeah but ‘Vega’ would still be wearing his shemagh over his face anyway.”
Hamaal was quiet for a moment before he said, “I think the heat is getting to me.”
Desmond laughed, “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, buddy.”
He felt Aquila nudge their connection and said, “Give me a sec.”
Desmond opened their connection, letting Aquila keep control of his body and only watching through his eyes.
Aquila was already flying right above the gates of Ḥalab and there were already guards lining up by the gates.
From Aquila’s position...
It would take them an hour to reach Ḥalab.
So those guards...
They were for them.
Desmond did know that Alamut sent an envoy a month ago...
Aquila stopped when he heard a familiar whistle that only a few people know about.
It was the whistle Desmond would use to call Aquila to him.
Aquila flew towards the sound but stayed high up in the air, Desmond’s paranoia and his own wariness stopping him from rushing forward.
There was a lone Assassin standing in one of the rooftops, half-covered by the shade of the cloth that had placed over some kind of makeshift rooftop rest stop.
A secret rendezvous for a pair of secret lovers perhaps.
The Assassin waved his hand before making the dual finger gun sign and Desmond ignored the second-hand embarrassment he felt over having taught such a thing to his fellow batchmates.
Wait.
Aquila descended towards the Assassin but didn’t land on his arm, instead landing on the soft carpet hidden by the cloth.
There were some pillows strewn all over and…
Aquila tilted his head while Desmond forced him to hop and stop looking at the evidence of… nightly activities that had happened in this place.
The Assassin went on one knee and whispered, “Vega?”
Aquila relinquished control of his body to Desmond who nodded.
“Good. The sultan will ask that you stay in the palace. Agree with him and tell him the rest of our brothers with you are your guards. Don’t let anyone be pushed to stay in the Assassins stronghold here.”
Aquila hopped closer and tilted his head.
“It’s not… it’s nothing quite as serious as I’m making it seem.” This up close, Desmond could see the dark circles under Rahim’s eyes and the annoyed frown that decorated his face, “It’s just… once the Assassins here learned that you’d be coming, they’ve been hounding me for information every day.”
But… Rahim was the envoy they had sent before… that would mean he had been hounded for information for the past month?!
Oh, Desmond felt the need to strangle someone.
Most probably Harash, the Keeper, considering this was most definitely his doing.
“They’re not going to bother you if you’re in the palace though. The Assassins of Masyaf and the Saracens have a tense ‘alliance’ at the moment.” Rahim continued, “They wouldn’t dare barge in there and they wouldn’t risk you shooing them away if they try to request an audience with you.”
“You’ll be… I wouldn’t say safer but it won’t give you as much as of headache, that’s for sure.” Rahim said with a sigh, “I’ll join the guards sent to receive you as part of the welcoming committee.”
Rahim grabbed Aquila, making sure to keep his wings closed and pulled the eagle closer. There was a hint of mania from both paranoia and lack of sleep in his eyes as he mumbled, “You better make sure I stay with you guys or, I swear, I will paint the walls of the stronghold in blo-”
“Algol?! What are you doing here?!”
Rahim quickly threw Aquila over the pillows, mumbling a quick sorry as the eagle let out an indignant squawk for being manhandled so roughly. His squawk was quickly muffled by more pillows as Rahim quickly covered him before resting his back against the pillows. Aquila grumbled as he was squished lightly, not enough to hurt or harm him but still…
Annoying.
Desmond tried to use their connection to soothe Aquila but Aquila tensed to mimic him tensing as well as he recognized the voice that had come closer.
“Harash has been looking for you.”
“I’m resting.” Rahim stated with clear annoyance, “Once Desmond gets here, I’m sure I’ll be running errands all over for him so this is my last time to rest.”
“That’s not an excuse. Come on. Harash wants you to stay in the stronghold so you can all greet the oh so great Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad later when he goes to the stronghold.”
“I have my own orders. I’ll join the welcoming party at the gates and help Desmond with his meeting with the sultan.” Rahim stated.
“Harash is ordering you-”
“Alamut’s orders come before Harash’s.” Rahim cut him off, his already small patience fraying at the seams.
“Harash is the Keeper! His words are the mentor’s words!”
“And will you accept Alamut’s ire if they learn you are the one to push me to neglect their orders?” Rahim growled at him.
“That’s…”
“Return to Harash and tell him that I am under Alamut, not Masyaf. If he wants me to obey his orders before Alamut then he should talk to Desmond first.” Rahim ordered as the last of his patience finally disappeared, “Now get out of my sight so I can take a nap… Abbas.”
Of all the people Desmond didn’t wish to meet in this time period, Abbas was always at the top.
Rashid? He was bound to die on September of 1191 and his hand in Altaïr’s life would be over by then.
But Abbas…
Abbas needed to stay alive for a very long time.
Long enough to be the instigator of the tragedy that would befallen Altaïr’s family.
The instigator of Altaïr’s grief and guilt.
Not that Desmond was free of any sin.
He knew what was about to happen.
He knew what needed to happen…
Yet, here he was…
Staring at the night sky in this guest room given to them by the sultan for them to rest for the night.
Tomorrow, he would have to talk to the sultan yet…
Instead of making sure his plan was airtight, he was left dragging his mind deeper into the pitfalls of guilt and regrets.
He didn’t know why Minerva sent him to this place and he wished she had been able to give him more instructions.
Anything to alleviate this guilt.
Or, at the very least, make it easier to put all the blame on her and this damn Calculations of theirs.
He knew it was because he had seen Altaïr.
… had heard how his very presence in this time period had made Altaïr suffer more than he should have had during these past years.
That was his responsibility.
His sin.
And soon…
Once Altaïr learned from Kadar who Desmond truly was…
He was smart and Desmond would still wear his shemagh when he would be introduced together with his younger brother.
Kadar would tell Altaïr of the shemagh and Altaïr would realize who Vega truly was.
Desmond would finally have his punishment.
And earn Altaïr’s hatred.
“Aren’t you going to sleep yet?” Hamaal asked as he sat on the window sill where Desmond had been resting his elbow.
Desmond turned to look at him as he said, “I should, shouldn’t I? We’ll have to meet the sultan tomorrow morning after all.”
“Still worried about the ‘invitation’ Harash gave you then?” Hamaal asked curiously, “We can just ignore it.”
“We should just ignore it.” Rahim suggested as he stayed resting by the pillows on the foot of the bed, “Harash would send a complaint to Rashid and that’ll be the end of that. He can send the mentor a letter calling you rude or whatever rot he wants but the mentor would just laugh it off.”
Desmond hummed as he stared at the sky before he said lightly, “I’ll summon him here instead.”
All the other Assassins stared at him, definitely surprised by his words.
Desmond simply folded his shemagh before giving it to Hamaal as he said, “You’ll take my place tomorrow as ‘Vega’.”
“Rahim, tell Harash to come here after Asr.” Desmond ordered, “That should give us enough time to finish our meeting with the sultan.”
Desmond turned to look at Hamaal and said, “During that time, I want you to find Malik Al-Sayf and give this to him.”
Desmond took out the note he had received from Faheem, “It’s from his father. It would be better if no one sees you give it to him. We don’t want any unnecessary rumors floating around about him, after all.”
“I’d rather stay here so I can provide backup in case Harash does something but alright.” Hamaal took the note and placed them on the inside pocket of his robes before asking Rahim, “Any idea where I can find old man Faheem’s oldest son?”
“He usually walks around Ḥalab during the afternoon. You’d have the best chance in the marketplace.” Rahim suggested.
The marketplace…
A place that one such as them would frequent to listen in and gain information.
How very diligent of Malik…
Even though…
Faheem had insinuated that Malik had been transferred to Ḥalab to keep him away from both his father and brother.
Desmond wondered if breaking apart the Al-Sayf family had happened in the original timeline.
Or was this another one of his faults?
“Desmond?”
He stepped away from the window sill as he said, “Let’s go to sleep. Two hour guard rotation as usual.”
“Yes, sir!” The other Assassins replied while Hamaal and Rahim only stared at him.
That was fine.
Desmond would just say that he was tired.
And he was…
Being this close to people connected to Masyaf…
To Altaïr…
… was tiring.
“Thank you for letting us stay here, your majesty.” Desmond greeted respectfully.
“I am honored that the successor of Nūr al-Dīn Muḥammad II would visit our little sultanate.” The sixteen year old sultan and son of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, az-Zahir Ghazi, greeted back. He waved his hand to the other side of the small table and said, “Please, sit.”
Desmond walked towards the small table and sat on the other side, thanking whoever picked the cushy pillows he was now sitting on.
The Assassins with him stayed behind, taking point in different sections of the right side of the room while the sultan’s guards stood in different sections of the left side of the room.
A servant quietly walked towards them and placed a cup in front of the sultan then a cup in front of Desmond. He poured them tea as the sultan said, “This came from a well known merchant who travels the merchants' regular route without rest… or so he boldly claims. Tea plucked and dried from the best, he said.”
“It has a nice aroma.” Desmond commented, waiting for the sultan to take the first sip. The sultan continued to smile at him and they stared at one another for a few seconds before the sultan finally took a sip.
Desmond took that as his cue to sip as well. He hadn’t even finished placing the cup down before the sultan asked, “Is it to your liking?”
“Yes.” Desmond replied even though it actually just tasted like earth and leaves to him, “It’s quite a unique taste.”
“That’s good.” The sultan’s smile grew as he said, “I was planning to chop that merchant’s head off if the taste had offended you.”
Desmond noticed none of the sultan’s guards even flinched at those words. He was sure his Assassins didn’t make any moves as well. They were all handpicked by the mentors from the list both Faheem and Oded had compiled separately after all.
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he said politely, “You have a unique kind of humor, your majesty.”
The sultan laughed and Desmond could see just how young he was with the way his face lit up when he laughed.
All the more impressive that he was able to govern a profitable sultanate such as this even at such a young age.
“I heard that you Assassins have this kind of morbid sense of humor. Do forgive me if I offend you. That was not my intention.”
He was polite and respectful, even to someone like Desmond who should be of lower ranking than him.
But his eyes…
Desmond had seen enough eyes like his to know that the sultan was observing him.
He was wary.
Desmond could understand why.
It was more impressive that someone as young as him could act older than he was.
Then again…
Desmond supposed people during this time period had to mature faster than what he was used to.
“You did not offend me, your majesty.” Desmond said politely, “If anything, I would like to apologize for my sudden visit.”
“Nonsense.” The sultan waved Desmond’s polite inane chatter, “The Nizaris have a long history with Ḥalab, after all. And… well…”
The sultan’s eyes darkened and his smile dimmed as he added in the same light tone he had been using the entire time, “My father has taken your personal invitation to Alamut’s celebration to be a good sign.”
Desmond stared at az-Zahir as he said, “I’m afraid to say that this does not mean that we would ally ourselves with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn…”
“Regardless of how the Christians will act moving forward.” Desmond added solemnly.
“Oh, I’m sure father knows that.” az-Zahir said lightly, “It’s his way of trying to push me to have a… closer connection to the future imam of Alamut.”
“Well then, I hope you will have a wonderful and close friendship with my younger brother then.” Desmond said just as lightly, giving the sultan a smile.
The sultan stared at him for a moment before he sipped his tea. He lowered his cup slightly as he spoke, “I wonder… if your younger brother is to be the next imam…”
He stared at Desmond as he asked, “Then does that mean that you’ll take over the Brotherhood and become your brother’s subordinate?”
Desmond simply sipped his tea and the sultan chuckled.
“Ah, the perils of having siblings.” He said lightly before placing his cup back on the table, “Although…”
The sultan placed one of his hand on the table, tapping his point finger lightly as he said, “I have a feeling that it would be more beneficial for our family if I was to become close to you instead.”
Desmond stared at him as he placed his cup back on the table, “The Brotherhood will remain impartial. Our only desire is to protect the innocent from those who would abuse their power and standing in this world.”
The sultan’s smile grew as he asked, “Do you know what my father tells me and my siblings about your Brotherhood?”
Desmond tilted his head instead of answering az-Zahir.
“He would warn us that…”
“No man is more dangerous than a man who believe they are fighting for what is right and just.”
Desmond couldn’t wait until it was time for him to return to the shadows and just be an Assassin.
No offense to az-Zahir, of course.
The young sultan was nice and even invited him to join him in his meals.
He even went as far as to invite him to stay longer which Desmond declined.
He had been here to personally invite him to the celebration that will introduce both him and his younger brother and he had insisted that two nights was already too long as he had his duties waiting for him back in Alamut.
All Desmond had to do was say the magic word (‘paperwork’) and az-Zahir’s expression was one of deep understanding as he said that it would be cruel to keep Desmond any longer if that was the case.
He was sure az-Zahir was also humoring him.
The mentors were right though.
It was clear that az-Zahir was more ‘neutral’ than his other siblings and his father.
Perhaps it was because of the Brotherhood’s influence in Ḥalab itself…
But it was clear that az-Zahir had no interest in his father’s plans of conquest.
All he seemed to care about was the safety of his sultanate and the continued profits they received by being part of the routes usually used by the merchants.
From that standpoint, Desmond could understand why Alamut would want to be cordial with Ḥalab.
It still reminded him too much of House Auditore’s closeness with House Medici though.
The only difference was that Alamut and Ḥalab were in equal footing.
More or less.
He supposed…
This would become more of Jalāl’s problem once he becomes the imam.
Then again…
Desmond wasn’t cruel enough to simply ignore his brother if it looked like he needed help.
It was during these times that Desmond could see the pitfalls of having the Brotherhood be so out in the open.
“Desmond.”
Desmond turned around as the door to their room opened with Hamaal walking inside, wearing his shemagh.
… with an unfamiliar Assassin walking behind him, flanked by two familiar ones.
The two Assassins…
No.
Malik and Abbas stared at him and Desmond could see the surprise in their faces. Malik was able to hide it faster than Abbas although Desmond didn’t call them out.
Instead, he sat on the window sill as he greeted, “Safety and peace, brothers.”
“Upon you as well.” The Assassin in front of Malik and Abbas greeted back with a slight nod.
“Do forgive me for not being able to visit the stronghold.” Desmond said with a polite smile, “I heard that you’ve taken over the stronghold under Rashid’s orders, Harash.”
Abbas flinched when Desmond used Rashid’s name while Malik’s eyes narrowed. Harash didn’t react, only replying respectfully, “Ḥalab is part of al-Sham, as such, it is only natural that Al Mualim would take care of our stronghold here.”
Desmond’s smile grew as he said in a sweet tone, “As we have expected from Rashid, of course.”
He stepped off the window sill and walked towards Harash as he said, “It is Rashid’s duty and responsibility to ensure the safety of al-Sham…”
He stood in front of Harash as he continued, “… just as the Brotherhood ordered, after all.”
Oh, the tense silence could bring the weak down to their knees.
Yet they were all trained to remain stoic and to face anything with dignity.
Desmond placed his left hand on the side of Harash’s neck, feeling Harash tense. Harash remained still yet Desmond could feel his quickening heartbeat slightly, traveling to the very important veins in his neck.
“You will all join me for isha, won’t you?” Desmond asked sweetly.
Harash cleared his throat before replying, “Of course… sir.”
Desmond’s smile grew as he said, “Good. I will lead it, of course. I’m sure… Rashid will not mind.”
Harash hesitated for a moment before he agreed, “Of course… Al Mu-”
Desmond dug his fingertips against Harash’s neck slightly, making Harash stumbled, “… R-Rashid will not mind at all.”
“Good.” Desmond continued to smile sweetly as he said, “It’s only natural that we show everyone that we are united after all.”
Desmond knew he was playing with fire.
More than he should but…
Seeing Abbas…
Knowing he could not do anything at all.
He was simply too frustrated and it was just so much easier to direct that frustration to…
“I’m sure Rashid will understand.” Desmond leaned closer as he said sweetly, “He of all people should know his place after all.”
Chapter 41
Notes:
Announcement!
To celebrate the Frye twin’s birthday, I’ve posted:
- A short Yew Branch oneshot set in Jacob’s POV as he has a weird evening in Westminster
- A short smut of dom Desmond with the Frye twins
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Malik had always held his tongue whenever the urge to shout threatened to escape his lips. He had grown up hearing the whispers people speak about his father behind their backs.
He was too forward.
He did not know how to hold his tongue.
He always advocated for death.
Faheem Al-Sayf was known as a hawk, someone who advocates for death and violence.
Malik wasn’t sure just how true those whispers were.
His father never appeared to be filled with blood lust as far as Malik could remember.
But he did believe problems could be solved by killing someone.
Which, in his defense, tend to be… quite true.
Malik did know that his father rarely looked at the big picture.
He was focused on the present.
It was because of the man that he was that he wasn’t… exactly well liked by many, even going as far as having a long time feud with another old Assassin family that was part of the council as well.
A feud that Malik was sure he and Kadar would inherit later on, unfortunately.
So when he had learned of the order for his father to be sent to Alamut, Malik wasn’t exactly surprised.
He even thought that perhaps his father wouldn’t mind it, having been born and raised in Alamut himself.
So Malik held his tongue even though we wished to protest as his father wasn’t as young as he was used to be. He had been worried that traveling alone would not bode well for his father.
Instead, he asked to be his father’s guide on his way to Alamut and then return to Ḥalab afterwards for his post.
Al Mualim denied his request.
Malik had been furious yet he held his tongue.
Later he learned that Al Mualim had requested Assassins stationed in Alamut serve as his father’s guide.
And Malik realized that Al Mualim hadn’t denied his request without a reason.
Truly, why would he even think that?
Al Mualim was wise.
He knew what must be done.
Alamut had always been… a story for him and Kadar.
Their father wasn’t the imaginative type so when he told them stories, he told them of what had happened before, of missions he had in his youth…
It wasn’t… It had an adverse effect, causing Kadar to have nightmares that left him crying in the middle of the night.
So their father tried to tell them about his past instead as a child of Alamut. As one of the Assassin families said to have descended from those who came before them.
Malik was sure Faheem embellished some of his stories but they were fun stories to listen to as children.
But that was what made Alamut a story for them.
He never truly held any feelings for it, believing it to have fallen from grace since Al Mualim left. A ghost of its past glories, left with more soldiers than true Assassins.
Alamut was a distant ‘ally’ and it was easy to ignore its existence.
Then they heard the whispers…
… of a young man by the name of Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
Malik thought that the rumors and whispers were exaggerated, especially after he heard conflicting numbers of how many Assassins this supposed prodigy had defeated or even conflicting information of it being recruits and not Assassins.
He didn’t take it seriously.
Why should he?
But Altaïr did.
He took everything about Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad to heart.
At first, Malik thought it was because of the rumors that he looked a lot like Altaïr. He had always assumed that Altaïr still wished to have a familial connection with someone, especially after his disagreement with Abbas destroyed their friendship (and Kadar was exaggerating the entire thing, calling it attempted murder on Abbas’ part, Al Mualim had announced that it had simply been a disagreement, Malik didn’t understand why Kadar was insisting it wasn’t when he wasn’t even there when it happened).
Then…
He saw how Altaïr was doing more than any of them. Training harder and longer than any of them…
Malik’s words for him to slow down and rest even for just a bit fell on deaf ears.
And Malik backed away because it wasn’t his place.
Not when Al Mualim encouraged it.
Al Mualim had a reason for this. He always had a reason behind everything, after all.
For the good of the Brotherhood.
Then… his father’s letters came and they were inane. Most of them were about him complaining about his post, with a memorable letter of him calling ʾAʿlā Muḥammad a sadist and having to send a reply to Malik’s question about what ‘sadist’ mean.
He seemed to be having… Malik wouldn’t say ‘fun’ or ‘peaceful’ considering the amount of words he had for the scholars he was now in charge of (also… making his father in charge of scholars? Malik would never admit to finding it hilarious).
But there was one topic his father never talked about…
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
No.
There were two topics he didn’t talk about.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad and…
‘Vega’.
Malik had no interest in Altaïr’s personal life. He cannot stressed just how much he didn’t want to know anything about Altaïr’s personal life.
But Kadar…
Kadar had a lot to say about the subject. It was embarrassing at times but Malik kept quiet and simply sighed whenever Kadar sent him a letter and most of it was about Altaïr.
Their friendship had always been strange and many assumed that Kadar was simply too stubborn to stop pestering Altaïr. Malik was one of the few people who knew that Altaïr considered his younger brother a friend in his own way.
Not that he would say it out loud…
But it was because of Kadar’s friendship with Altaïr that Malik learned of this Vega.
To be more accurate, he read what Kadar heard from Altaïr about Vega.
So…
It was strange that his father didn’t talk about any Vega at all.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad, he could understand.
Faheem knew that Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad was a sore subject for anyone in Masyaf. His name was always said in a whisper, away from Al Mualim or Altaïr. Faheem would never talk about him to Malik, both because he didn’t want to appear to be spying on Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad and because he didn’t liked to talk about people who were always being gossiped about, finding it… irritating.
But some random Assassin named Vega who was supposedly as talented as Altaïr says he was?
Not even just a single line about Vega at all?
Not when he had talked about so many other scholars and Assassins in Alamut, most of the time in passing?
That was strange.
Strange enough that when an Assassin wearing a red shemagh to hide his face sat next to him while he was watching the marketplace this afternoon, he was instantly on alert.
It would be too easy to dismiss it as a coincidence but…
The golden embroidery of small flowers and strange bird like creatures…
It had to be Vega.
But his eyes…
They weren’t as Kadar mentioned Altaïr described them.
“Malik Al-Sayf?”
“Yes?”
The Assassin slipped something between them and Malik took it quietly.
It was a small note written by his father.
In the code the Al-Sayfs had created solely for their family.
Malik frowned as he decoded it.
The first line was simply to tell him that the Assassin that was next to him was an ally.
The second line was asking him to give the Assassin the journal that he had given Malik before he left for his post here in Ḥalab.
The third line was…
‘Do not trust Rashid. He does not speak for the Creed.’
Malik was torn.
He had been raised to believe and trust his father. His father had never done anything to break that trust and loyalty.
But Al Mualim…
Al Mualim was their mentor, their leader…
Their master.
Why would he say such things?
His father had been loyal to Al Mualim.
Until…
Until he went to Alamut…
Malik stared at the Assassin next to him.
He felt no murderous intent at all.
If anything, the man seemed curious about the people in the marketplace more than Malik himself.
Malik… Malik wanted to believe his father but to suddenly tell him to not trust their mentor?
It was too much.
There had to be a reason why this was happening now.
For now, he would do as his father asked.
He took out a journal he had hidden behind his belt. He handed it to the Assassin who hid it underneath his own belt, covering it with the dark gray fabric wrapped around his waist underneath the belt. He nodded at Malik quietly before leaving.
And Malik wondered if that was truly Altaïr’s Vega.
Later, an Assassin stationed here in Ḥalab went to find him, telling him Harash wanted him to join him in greeting Desmond in the sultan’s palace. Malik went back to the stronghold and saw the same Assassin who took his father’s journal with Harash.
“Malik.” Harash nodded at him before introducing the Assassin in front of them, “This is Vega. He’ll guide us to Desmond.”
“Safety and peace, brother.” The Assassin named Vega greeted with a slight bow.
As Malik expected of him, he pretended to not have met Malik beforehand.
So Malik did the same…
Malik returned the bow as he greeted back, “Upon you as well, brother.”
“Well then, let us not keep his highness waiting.” Harash said and Malik didn’t react to the almost insulting way Harash had spoke.
Instead, he stepped behind Harash, standing next to Abbas who looked just as serious as usual.
As long as no one mentioned Altaïr, Abbas wasn’t bad to pair up with in missions. He did what he needed to do and was loyal to the Brotherhood.
He wasn’t a problem as far as Malik was concerned.
All he could wish for was that he and Altaïr just bury whatever disagreement they had.
Vega led them into the palace, greeting the guards they passed by who seemed to recognize him and greeted back.
It seemed that the guards were friendly to him and they hadn’t been here for that long.
He led them to one of the rooms in the same wing that Malik was sure the sultan’s private chambers were.
The Assassins who came with Desmond were all in the room, posted near the walls or in strategic positions.
A single room that Malik could see was without any weak spots at all.
Even Rahim who was on the floor, his eyes closed and his head resting on a pillow, was in a position to quickly get up in case of an emergency.
Malik had observed the young Assassin long enough to know that he was simply pretending to be sleeping.
“Desmond.” The Assassin who had been leaning by the window with his elbows resting on the sill turned to face them and Malik was unable to stop himself from staring.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad was taller than him.
That was the third thing he realized.
The second thing he realized was that they weren’t exaggerating when they said that he looked a lot like Altaïr.
He was taller and paler than Altaïr but he shared the same scar that marred the right side of his lips.
He sat on the sill and greeted them lightly, “Safety and peace, brothers.”
“Upon you as well.” Harash greeted back with a slight nod yet Malik could barely focus on him.
“Do forgive me for not being able to visit the stronghold.” Desmond said with a polite smile, “I heard that you’ve taken over the stronghold under Rashid’s orders, Harash.”
Malik’s eyes narrowed.
His voice was light and his smile was polite yet…
Malik could hear it clear as day.
The insolence in his tone.
The arrogance that reminded Malik too much of Altaïr.
And…
The challenge.
Desmond stared at Harash with a polite smile and a light tone yet his eyes were challenging him.
To do what, Malik was unsure.
To defend Al Mualim’s honor?
To speak his mind?
“Ḥalab is part of al-Sham, as such, it is only natural that Al Mualim would take care of our stronghold here.” Harash remained polite.
Too polite, if Malik was being honest.
Desmond was being rude on purpose, his sweet tone hiding the poison in his words.
Desmond’s smile grew as he said in a sweet tone, “As we have expected from Rashid, of course.”
Desmond stepped off the window sill and walked towards Harash as he said, “It is Rashid’s duty and responsibility to ensure the safety of al-Sham…”
He stood in front of Harash as he continued, “… just as the Brotherhood ordered, after all.”
The silence was almost unbearable.
The animosity of the Assassins in the room palpable.
No.
Growing each time Desmond said Al Mualim’s name.
Malik didn’t understand why.
Were they angry at Al Mualim because they had been kept in Alamut instead of being transferred to Masyaf?
No.
Malik had never heard of any Assassin from Alamut transferring to Masyaf.
It had always been Assassins from Masyaf transferring to Alamut.
Why… why was that?
Malik froze when he saw Desmond place his left hand on the side of Harash’s neck.
“You will all join me for isha, won’t you?” Desmond asked sweetly.
Harash cleared his throat before replying, “Of course… sir.”
“Good. I will lead it, of course. I’m sure… Rashid will not mind.”
“Of course… Al Mu-” Harash’s words fell for a moment before he said, “… R-Rashid will not mind at all.”
Abbas looked scandalous that Harash would say their master’s name.
Yet…
Malik could only stare at Desmond as he continued to smile sweetly at Harash, seemingly ignoring the both of them.
“Good. It’s only natural that we show everyone that we are united after all.”
“I’m sure Rashid will understand.” Desmond leaned closer as he said sweetly, “He of all people should know his place after all.”
And this up close, Malik could see it.
The first thing he noticed about Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
Brown like honey with specks of gold when the sunlight kisses his eyes.
That was what Kadar had written.
That was how Altaïr described Vega’s eyes.
Assassins usually did their daily prayers on their own accord, many like to pray with fellow brothers, others liked to pray alone.
Abbas and Malik were the latter.
But for today’s isha, all the Assassins in Ḥalab were in the courtyard, waiting for Desmond and his Assassins to arrive.
Because they were his Assassins, not Al Mualim’s, not Masyaf’s.
Maybe Malik could say that they were Alamut’s Assassins together with Desmond but, regardless, Desmond spoke for Alamut and he had made it clear Alamut’s stance.
Malik was sure that his fellow brothers didn’t know it though.
Harash had made it clear that he and Abbas were not to talk about what had happened when they met Desmond after all.
As far as the others knew, Desmond wanted to preside the isha for his final day here in Ḥalab and Harash had ‘indulged’ him.
Harash barely did it anyway as he preferred that everyone pray however they wanted… if they wanted.
But when the Assassins heard that the rumored Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad was presiding over isha, even those who usually do not pray with others or pray at all were now waiting in the courtyard.
Just as the final light of the sun was about to disappear, he appeared with his Assassins, greeting Harash with that sweet smile of his, “Hello, Harash. Thank you for organizing this on my behalf.”
“Of course.” Harash bowed slightly, not that many noticed it, too focused on Desmond’s face and the noticeable similarity he had with Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.
“Well then… shall we begin?” Desmond asked Harash but his question seemed to be directed at the Assassins gathered there as he turned to smile at them. Without waiting for Harash to speak, he walked towards the middle of the room and-
Whispers began to erupt everywhere and many Assassin stepped to the side to let…
Malik froze.
The young sultan of Ḥalab, az-Zahir, walked towards the courtyard, flanked by his usual guards.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” az-Zahir said with a smile.
Harash opened his mouth but az-Zahir ignored him, turning his attention to Desmond as he said, “I heard that you would be presiding over isha for your brothers and I was wondering if I may join as well?”
For a moment, Malik believed that Desmond had planned this, that he had invited the sultan beforehand to show them just how much influence he had.
But when Malik turned to stare at Desmond, Desmond was staring at the sultan with the same polite smile on his face.
But his eyes…
Malik recognized the way his eyes didn’t blink, seemingly staring at the sultan with an unnerving gaze.
He didn’t expect this.
He hadn’t planned for this.
Malik knew because…
Altaïr would have the same eyes whenever something he didn’t plan happened.
All Malik could do was stare as Desmond’s smile grew just a bit as he said, “Of course. Everyone is welcome.”
“How wonderful.” The sultan replied, “And after this, will you do me the honors of joining me for tea once more?”
Desmond chuckled and nodded, “Of course. It would be my pleasure, az-Zahir.”
It was then that Malik wondered…
If Desmond wasn’t just an Assassin in the eyes of Alamut.
That night, Malik stared at the blank paper in front of him.
There were a lot of things he wished to write to his younger brother.
But his hands remained still for…
It wasn’t his place.
Whatever connection Altaïr had with Vega…
No.
With Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad…
It wasn’t his place to question him.
Or use his own brother to question him.
And he could feel it.
The entire time Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad smiled at them and treated them with politeness…
He could feel this force trying to push him down.
Trying to make him kneel.
The only person who had ever made Malik feel something similar to that had been Al Mualim.
Only a fool would not see the presence that Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad had.
And he was sure such a presence cannot be hidden by a simple shemagh.
But that only made Malik feel like he was going to get a headache because he cannot understand why Kadar would describe ‘Vega’ as such a wonderful man.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad was a fearsome man.
He was a powerful man who knew he wielded such power.
But unlike Altaïr who showed his strength without a care for how it made him look…
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad wielded his power like it was second nature.
Like he didn’t even see it.
And that…
… made him more dangerous.
Notes:
It's funny how many of you guessed that I'll be writing Malik's POV next XD
Oh, and...
For those wondering, Malik didn’t know that Desmond has been adopted by the imam of Alamut. He believed that he is meant to be Alamut’s representative to invite az-Zahir.
Chapter Text
Khalid, Hilde and Maria held their wedding on October of 1189, having waited for Desmond to return from Ḥalab.
It was a modest wedding presided by Diya al-Dīn as the imam. Even the celebratory feast had simply been in the dining hall with mostly Assassins and nymphs in attendance.
It was during the celebrations that Jalāl finally met a friend he could actually play with.
“Desmond.”
Desmond turned to face Zain as he made his way towards his seat where his little brother was sitting on his lap, grabbing Jalāl’s hand before he could get his chubby hand on the seasoned rice that Desmond had been eating. He placed Jalāl’s hand on his lap and turned the little boy to face Zain as well, “Jalāl, say hello to Zain.”
Jalāl waved his hand, the very same hand that was about to grab onto the rice, and said with a grin, “Hi!”
“Hello, little prince.” Zain greeted back with a bow, lips curved into an easy smile.
“Welcome home, Zain.” Desmond greeted, “I thought you and your team would be staying in Baghdad?”
“Oh, my team’s still in Baghdad. Another squad was sent there a while back and I swapped places with one of them per the mentor’s orders so I could return here.” Zain explained, making Desmond hum.
He hadn’t heard of that.
Which meant…
Desmond sighed as he asked, “Diya al-Dīn sent you back because of me, didn’t he?”
“Well, not exactly.” Zain lowered his eyes and Desmond tilted his head, “I do wish to become your guard but the mentor had deemed that you could take care of yourself for now.”
“For now?” Desmond dryly repeated.
Zain chuckled as he nodded, “That’s right. So, for now…”
Zain turned to look down behind him, using one hand to grab something from be-
No.
His robes had hid him quite well but Zain gently pushed a small child that could have been around six to eight years old from behind him to stand next to him. The child continued to look at the ground as Zain introduced him, keeping a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder, “This is my cousin, Kāve. When he grows up, he’ll be protecting the little prince.”
Oh.
Desmond remembered Zain did say he had a cousin when they had been training.
But didn’t he say that his cousin was still a baby back then?
Then he should be around…
“He turned ten this year.”
Desmond didn’t react.
He really should have seen this coming.
Zain did say that their family always looked… ‘younger’.
“The mentor and my uncle have given their permission for him to start his training.” Zain explained.
“Oh, will he be joining the recruits next year then?” Desmond asked curiously. Normally, they would start their training at the age of 12 or 13 but there have been some exception to the rules. Someone can start their training regardless of how old they were but anyone younger than 12?
Desmond had only known of one person who had started his training before reaching the age of 12.
Altaïr…
“Not exactly.” Zain shook his head before explaining, “As of tomorrow, I’ve been ordered to guard the little prince. During that time, Kāve will be learning from me.”
Desmond stared at Zain.
Then at Kāve who was still staring at the floor.
Then at Jalāl who turned to stare back at him, curious and waiting for Desmond to tell him what to do.
Then back at Zain who looked quite happy at the moment.
“Jalāl.” Desmond turned to face his younger brother, making the boy tilt his head.
“Say hello to Kāve. He and Zain are staying with you from now on.” Desmond explained, making Zain turn to face the two.
“Hi!” Jalāl waved his hand at Kāve who glanced at him before looking down as he mumbled something that might have been a hello?
Maybe?
“Please forgive Kāve, little prince. He’s quite shy.” Zain said lightly.
“Maybe you should play with him for a bit, Jalāl?” Desmond suggested.
“Play?” Jalāl perked up at the word, turning to face Desmond with wide eyes.
Desmond chuckled.
“Yes.” Desmond patted Jalāl’s back lightly as he said, “Go play with Kāve for a bit, alright? But stay nearby, okay? Stay where you can always see me.”
“Okay!” Jalāl nodded happily and jumped down Desmond’s lap. He ran towards Kāve and grabbed his hand with both of his hands as he tugged the older boy, “Let’s play!”
“Um…” Kāve looked back at his cousin who simply nodded at him.
“Have fun with the little prince. But be sure to stay here in the dining hall, alright?” Zain reminded him, making Kāve nod.
They watched the two boys run towards one corner of the dining hall with Jalāl happily chatting away, most probably stumbling over his words but pushing through like always.
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he watched Jalāl make big gestures with his hands, most probably trying to teach Kāve one of the games he knew. Kāve listened with a serious look on his face even though his hands kept slightly pulling on his robes and rubbing the fabric between his thumbs and point fingers.
Desmond leaned towards Zain as he said lightly, “They turned you into a babysitter, didn’t they?”
“I prefer to think of it as being the little prince’s guard.” Zain said lightly.
“Uh-huh.” Desmond stared at the two children as they began to play what seemed to be a game of hide-and-seek while he told Zain, “This means that Jalāl will be leaving the harem then?”
“Yes.” Zain nodded, “He will be relocated to the palace and will start his lessons as well.”
Oh, dear.
Desmond remained silent.
And hoped that he wouldn’t be the one to tell Jalāl he can’t stay with his mothers anymore.
The following day, Desmond had a bit of free time in his hands as Khalid was still on his honeymoon.
… And no, Desmond was not going to be known as the inventor of honeymoon of all things. Mah-e Asal was a thing!
Right?
The curious looks he got when he asked how long Khalid would be going on his honeymoon coupled with being part of a conversation with Khalid, Hilde, Maria and Diya al-Dīn concerning what the honeymoon entails and how long it should be allowed did not bode well.
…
At this point, Desmond was simply hoping the idea of a honeymoon wouldn’t spread at all.
Please let it be a quirky little tradition in Alamut.
… and Alamut alone.
But back to the main topic at hand.
Desmond had a bit of free time which was meant to be used to develop their latest bomb. Khalid wouldn’t be there and that meant Desmond shouldn’t do any work but it wasn’t like Desmond had anything else to do so he went to the scholar’s tower anyway.
Khalid would sigh dramatically if Desmond was to make any headway without him so he was just planning on organizing all their inventory and making a list of what they needed.
If time permitted, he might even go to the aconite patch outside of Alamut and grab a few since he was sure they were low on that one.
… Desmond may or may not have been trying to recreate the poison that Ezio would use but he was drawing a blank on the exact recipe that Altaïr had written in his codex.
He was simply using aconite since it was readily available anyway.
As he was making his way towards the fourth floor, he noticed there was a large gathering of scholars on the third floor, whispering to one another very loudly.
Desmond blinked.
It didn’t looked to be some kind of debate that the scholars would sometimes get into (and become too heated that one of the Assassins had to step in and break it up)…
Still…
Desmond walked towards the nearest Assassin who looked like he was about to drown in stacks of books all around his table.
“Hey.”
The Assassin raised his head, the dark lines under his eyes making Desmond want to wince.
“Oh, good morning, Desmond.”
It was already the afternoon…
Desmond simply nodded before asking, “What’re the scholars up to now?”
“Huh?” The Assassin blinked slowly and Desmond pointed at the group of scholars by nodding at their direction. The Assassin turned and stared.
And stared.
And stared some more.
Just when Desmond was about to ask if he was alright, the Assassin exclaimed, “Oh!”
The Assassin turned to stare back at Desmond as he explained, “I think those are the scholars who want to petition for Faheem to be removed from his post.”
“What?”
“The Prince of Sands’ next book is ready but Faheem has forbidden the scholars from making the print blocks needed to start making copies of it.” The Assassin continued, seemingly unconcerned by the surprised expression on Desmond’s face.
The Prince of Sands…
Peredur’s book.
As far as Desmond knew, Peredur had finished it months ago.
The editing did take more time than usual from what Desmond observed from afar and Khalid had suggested this book had gone through more edits than the others…
And everyone was very tight-lipped about it.
So tight-lipped that Desmond had no idea what the book’s content was.
By this point, Khalid would have shared the book’s summary to him already, knowing Desmond didn’t want to actually read it.
He tried before.
It was too embarrassing for him to continue to read it.
Desmond sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
It wasn’t like he could just turn away from this issue.
He was sort of part of the scholar’s tower thanks to his collaborations with Khalid and…
Although the scholars weren’t exactly under the purview of the Brotherhood, he should probably talk to Faheem about this and give Diya al-Dīn a head’s up anyway.
Not to side with Faheem but to give Diya al-Dīn more information from a third party as this would fall under his responsibility as the imam and ruler of Alamut.
Hell, Faheem was pretty much retired at this point anyway but Desmond should still take note of his side of the story at the very least.
“Thanks.” Desmond nodded at the Assassin who simply grunted and returned to his…
Study?
Research?
Desmond was sure that telling the Assassin to get some rest would fall into deaf ears so he walked to the second nearest Assassin, a few tables away from them and greeted, “Hey.”
“Oh! Hello, Desmond!” The Assassin greeted as he stood.
“Keep an eye on our brother over there.” Desmond nodded at the direction he came from and the Assassin chuckled.
“Oh, yes, we’re waiting for him to finally fall asleep and we were planning on dragging him back to his room.” The Assassin said cheerfully, “Don’t worry about him.”
Desmond was certain that what they were waiting for wasn’t for him to fall asleep but to finally collapse which wasn’t ideal.
Desmond simply sighed and said, “Alright. When he does fall asleep, come find me and I’ll give you some medicine for him.”
“Of course. Thank you, Desmond!”
Desmond wasn’t sure why he was thanking him but he waved it off, making his way to Faheem’s office on the topmost floor of the scholar’s tower.
“Faheem.”
As usual, he was greeted by a grunt and Desmond took that as his cue to open the door. He stepped inside and stood on the other side of the desk where Faheem was writing something on a piece of paper. He waited for Faheem to finish, glancing around.
It was the same as always.
There wasn’t anything that could be counted as Faheem’s personal items in the office. The most personal item in the office was the quill Faheem was using. An old thing with the feathers already frayed to the point that it was concerning.
Desmond didn’t say anything though since Faheem seemed to like using it and it was still working as it was meant to anyway.
Faheem finally placed the quill on top of the open ink bottle and raised his head to stare at Desmond as he said, “I will not change your and Khalid’s allowance this month.”
“That’s not what I’m here for.” Desmond said with a shake of his head.
He hadn’t even seen the amount for this month. That was Khalid’s responsibility, not his.
“Alright…” Faheem stared at him for a moment before he sighed, “If you have a new proposal, leave it here-”
Faheem patted on the highest stack of papers on his desk, “… and I’ll look into it. You and Khalid are not allowed to start working on anything new without my approval.”
That was also Khalid’s responsibility.
Not to mention, Desmond knew for a fact that Khalid’s main strategy was to hound Faheem day and night until he finally looked over the proposal and agree to it (after a few compromises, of course).
Desmond wondered if Faheem realized that he and Khalid deliberately proposed more ridiculous things so that when it was time to compromise, it was more or less what they were truly aiming for.
Maybe.
Faheem wasn’t gullible, after all.
“That’s not why I’m here at all.” Desmond replied and explained before Faheem could make another guess while pretending to know the reason why Desmond was visiting him, “I heard that you’ve forbidden the scholars from printing Peredur’s next book.”
Faheem stared at him for a moment before he said curiously, “I did. Are you here to tell me to proceed?”
“No.” Desmond answered, “I’m sure you have a reason why. I just want to know your reason.”
“Ah.” Faheem rubbed his chin before he asked, “I’m sure you haven’t read it yet.”
“No, I haven’t.” Desmond replied.
And he had no plans to.
“And you know the truth about the books, don’t you?” Faheem asked, making Desmond sigh.
“I know the main character is loosely… very loosely based on me, Faheem.” Desmond answered before continuing, “But that’s not the point. A lot of the funding for the scholar’s tower comes from the profit they make from Peredur’s books.”
It was Faheem’s time to sigh before he said, “I know that.”
He narrowed his eyes as he dryly stated, “And I also know there’s some who are planning remove me from my post because of this.”
“They can’t remove you from your post but they can request Diya al-Dīn to do it for them.” Desmond reminded him before continuing, “If you just tell me your reason, I can talk to Diya al-Dīn and he can mediate-”
“No.” Faheem cut him off and Desmond frowned, noticing the way Faheem’s tone slightly went higher just now. He didn’t say anything though as Faheem continued in his usual even tone, “I will deal with the scholars myself, there’s no reason to bother ʾAʿlā Muḥammad about this.”
“But-”
“I plan to speak to them tomorrow morning.” Faheem said, “I have no plan to stop the book from being printed indefinitely. I’m only delaying its printing.”
“Why?”
Faheem sighed as he said, “I have my reasons.”
Desmond waited for him to speak once more for a few seconds before he asked, “And you can’t tell me your reasons?”
“No.” Faheem answered before adding, “I can and will tell my reasons to the scholars.”
“But not to me?” Desmond pushed.
“Not to you.” Faheem answered with a nod. There was a fraction of a second that was left in complete silence before Faheem added, “And also not to ʾAʿlā Muḥammad.”
Desmond frowned once more.
Faheem sighed again before saying, “That’s the most you’re going to get out of me. And I would appreciate it if you don’t ask the scholars why as well after I talk to them.”
“This kind of secrecy can easily be misunderstood, Faheem.” Desmond warned him.
“Feel free to misunderstand it all you want, Desmond.” Faheem waved him off, “Considering how you act, you won’t be able to figure this out.”
Oh, that sounded like a challenge.
But Desmond didn’t really want to take the bait.
“Very well then. As long as it does not jeopardize the Brotherhood or Alamut then I won’t pry any further.” Desmond said instead.
Seeing Faheem raise an eyebrow made Desmond feel a bit smug.
Faheem hadn’t expected him to back off.
He seemed to underestimate just how much Desmond didn’t wish to be anywhere near whatever drama was happening because of Peredur’s books.
“I do have a question.” Desmond said, not bothering to wait for Faheem to give his permission for him to ask his question, “You said you’re delaying the printing of the book. Can you tell me when you plan to start the printing then?”
Faheem looked thoughtful as he answered, “I can’t give you an exact date if that’s what you’re asking but… I suppose if I have to answer that the closest I can say is that once I’ve got my answer.”
“Your… answer?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“That’s right.” Faheem nodded, “I’m waiting for an answer.”
“From who?”
Faheem stared at him for a moment before he answered…
“From you.”
Chapter 43
Notes:
For those who notice, yes, I have removed the “No beta we die like Desmond” tag. That’s because Eagle of Alamut now has a beta starting this chapter! This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac. Thank you, @knine-nights-loves-ac!
Another note, Morenavbby reminded me that I named Kāve Walid chapters ago and I thought I just called him Zain’s cousin. Anyway, I changed it to Kāve because I like the idea that he’s named after a mythological figure
Also, JasmineMiles informed me that they’ve written a Yew Branch-inspired short fic for NanoWrMo so check it out here and give them your love!
Chapter Text
It wasn’t long before a month had passed, and the celebration where Jalāl will be announced as Diya al-Dīn’s heir was fast approaching.
All of Alamut were in a frenzy, making sure everything would go without any problem. The tense relationship between Faheem and the scholars were put on hold as all the scholars were working day and night to finish all preparations the representative of each of their group needed, as those representatives would be joining the celebration. It was meant to be a show of how open Alamut was in sharing their knowledge but some were using it to show off their research while others just didn’t want to be seen as a joke.
Desmond stepped waaaay back from all of that as he didn’t want to get in between any scholars and their mad dash for this or that specific obscure book or parchment that they needed.
The only time he even gave his opinion on anything was when the fourth floor (which was unofficially called the ‘dangerous plants group’ by some of the Assassins… Desmond was sure it was meant to be a joke… maybe… he refused to believe the Assassins couldn’t think of a better name) voted on who should be their representative. Khalid had laughed when they suggested he should be the representative and had asked Desmond what he thought.
Desmond said the truth.
It would be too dangerous to let Khalid be their representative, considering his interests didn’t just stop at poisonous plants but also a lot more things that weren’t exactly about poison in general like… well… bombs.
Desmond meant it to mean how Khalid’s knowledge was meant to be a secret from all the high ranking nobles and representatives from other lands but the other scholars thought he meant that Khalid didn’t exactly mirror what they were researching.
Desmond didn’t bother to correct them.
Fortunately, as far as Desmond and Khalid were concerned, the oldest scholar who regularly stayed on the fourth floor was picked.
Unfortunately, Khalid had been roped into helping make sure their representative had everything he needed, especially some of the latest studies of certain poisonous plants that the others had been researching about.
Because of this, Desmond had been temporarily banned from entering the scholar’s tower as he, in the scholars of the fourth floor’s own words, would distract Khalid.
Desmond should feel offended but he just nodded and went his merry way.
And started helping Diya al-Dīn in the preparations for the celebrations.
Most of the time, he organized with the servants with anything and everything that had to do with the preparations. Making sure their shifts were in order for the big day, ensuring all the decorations were set, double-checking that they had all the ingredients needed for the feast and…
Being persuaded to hunt the day of the festival so they could have a ‘special dish’.
For that one, Desmond talked to Oded and asked if he could borrow the next batch that would be soon be initiated.
Oded had approved Desmond’s suggestion that the batch’s morning training be changed to Desmond teaching them how to hunt. This way, Desmond would be killing two birds with one stone. The kitchen would get their request and Desmond would finally find the time to teach more Assassins how to hunt better.
Diya al-Dīn only approved of it if Desmond had an Assassin with him and Desmond knew this was his own way of asking Desmond to take better care of his security outside of Alamut.
Desmond wasn’t entirely sure why Diya al-Dīn was even bothering to do such a thing considering Desmond would more or less work alone in his missions but he indulged him and pulled one of his hunting buddies.
Rawiya.
Rawiya hadn’t really changed since they returned to Alamut. He stayed with his father, performed any missions given to him…
The ‘usual’…
He held no interest in getting a higher rank than what he had right now and Desmond had learned that threatening Rawiya with a promotion was one of the best ways to get his friend to do what he wanted.
In Rawiya’s eyes, promotions meant more work and stress and he pointed at both Desmond and his own father as examples of his point that high ranking means more work.
Desmond couldn’t even deny that.
So Rawiya followed his brothers’ footsteps and became one of the Assassins in charge of guard duties.
Desmond’s best way to explain his usual duties was… night shift leader.
Rawiya didn’t like waking up early so he was okay becoming the leader of the night guards (which were composed of both Assassins and recruits).
Desmond didn’t even bother to reminder Rawiya that he was, technically, a high ranking Assassin already considering he had his own team he led…
Just… not the rank title to go with it.
Desmond simply let him do whatever he wanted but made sure his compensation were the same amount as all Assassin doing the same work as he did.
Since he was in charge of guarding Alamut during the night, Desmond had expected that he would need to persuade Rawiya more to join him for a morning hunt but Rawiya simply agreed and just told Desmond that he’d wait for them by the stables that day.
That morning, all the recruits were ready and had already warmed up. From the healthy flushes on their cheeks, Desmond assumed they had been ordered to jog around the castle after their warm ups and stretches.
They followed Desmond out of the castle and Desmond felt like his face was a bit naked without his shemagh.
But it was necessary that he didn’t wear his shemagh today.
Masyaf’s representative will be coming and Desmond wanted to keep his identity as Vega a secret from whichever spy Rashid sends.
His plan was to talk to Kadar and hint on his identity as Vega.
Kadar had heard him speak before and he was just as observant as his brother and father.
He would realize who Vega truly was without Desmond deliberately outing himself as Vega to everybody else.
So…
Not using his shemagh for one day was a necessary sacrifice.
Still, maybe he should have brought one of those simple black cloth every Assassin and recruit were given as part of their ‘uniform’.
Something to cover a bit of his face from the cold morning breeze at the very least…
Oh well, he’d just have to suck it up.
He has no idea who the man Rawiya was talking to was by the stables.
He has no idea why Rawiya was waving his hand in an effort to get Desmond to run faster.
What he did have an idea was…
The man was not from around here.
Nowhere near here, that was for damn sure.
Because…
“Hello.” Desmond nodded at the man, resisting the urge to speak to him.
… in the language of the Kanien'kehá:ka.
“Ah, Desmond, this is…” Rawiya looked uncertain and the man seemed not surprised or offended by it, turning to face Desmond instead.
“I am Kaientaronkwen.” The man introduced himself, his Arabic held his natural accent but his pronunciation and cadence hid most of it making it clear that he had been speaking Arabic for a long time already, “You may call me ‘En’.”
The way he spoke and carried himself reminded Desmond a lot of the people in Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe. That was all he needed to confirm that Kaientaronkwen came from the same tribe…
Desmond knew that Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe would have already existed by this time or, at the very least, the ancestors of what would later become his tribe.
But still… He didn’t expect them to actually have contact with Alamut at all.
This was… strange.
“Hello, Kaientaronkwen.” Desmond greeted instead, making the man stare at him while Rawiya’s eyes widened, the both of them surprised by how easily Desmond could pronounce Kaientaronkwen’s name correctly, “Welcome to Alamut.”
Desmond glanced at Rawiya who took a second before realizing that Desmond was asking him silently why he had been waving at him, “Oh, that’s right! Sir En here wants to see Khalid but, well, the scholars had forbade Khalid from leaving the tower. Something about final preparations or… something?”
Rawiya shook his head as he continued, “Anyway, Khalid was able to send a message and it just said that you’ll take care of it.”
Desmond raised an eyebrow as he dryly said, “Oh?”
Desmond sighed and turned to face Kaientaronkwen, “Apologies, Kaientaronkwen. Khalid is otherwise preoccupied…”
“I understand. I admit I initially thought he had finally done something large enough to land him in the dungeons.” Kaientaronkwen commented lightly, making both Desmond and Rawiya chuckle.
“I try my best to keep him from going too far.” Desmond admitted before continuing, “I will take care of whatever business you have with him though but you’ll have to fill me in with whatever business it may be.”
“Business… Alright, please follow me.” Kaientaronkwen nodded before he walked towards his horses, making Rawiya and Desmond follow him. His horses had a small wagon attached to it with many sacks and Kaientaronkwen opened one of them before stepping to the side, letting Desmond lean forward to look at…
Chilis.
It was a small sack filled with chilies.
“This is for Khalid’s yearly request.” Kaientaronkwen explained, “This is what I wished to talked to Khalid about.”
Khalid had connection with Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe???
“Oh?” Desmond asked with a tilt of his head.
“We’ve been sending this in exchange for…” Kaientaronkwen looked around and opened a smaller bag, taking out a quill and an ink bottle before writing on a small piece of paper then giving it to Desmond, “This amount.”
Desmond blinked.
Considering how fucking rare chilies were (and how they were being used for experimental bombs and poisons of all things instead of food as the universe intended), Desmond thought that the amount was pretty much on the mark.
Half a year ago…
“I noticed that prices has become higher all over while I was on my way here.” Kaientaronkwen continued, “Especially around the merchants' regular routes.”
Desmond sighed as he agreed, “There are rumors that the Third Crusades will be starting soon so…”
“Yes, I understand.” Kaientaronkwen nodded before adding, “However, because of those raised prices…”
“You also wish to raise the price for Khalid’s order.” Desmond said.
Kaientaronkwen nodded once more, “As agreed upon with Khalid and your mentor, we have not sold these to anyone else-”
Desmond would have assumed it was because Alamut wanted to monopolize chilies but, in all seriousness, Desmond was certain it was because Khalid and Diya al-Dīn (as well as the three mentors) saw chilies as an ingredient for poison and bombs, meaning they were being monopolized because they were ‘dangerous’.
“- so we would like to negotiate a raise of price with Khalid and your mentor.”
“What’s your offer?”
Kaientaronkwen blinked.
“The new price.” Desmond clarified, “What’s the new price you’re thinking about?”
Kaientaronkwen hesitantly grabbed the small piece of paper from Desmond and wrote something on it before giving it to Desmond once more.
Desmond took the paper and looked it over.
Hhhmmm…
They were only asking for a 50% increase from the original price.
Considering how the prices have raised since they heard Emperor Frederick Barbarossa was planning to wage war, the amount they were asking would just be enough to cover the increase of prices all over the routes merchants usually use. Especially considering the already high price the original amount was.
Desmond was certain that Kaientaronkwen was going to use the money to buy supplies that he’d take back to his tribe.
And…
Desmond suddenly had this urge to do something a bit… reckless.
He was going to blame Ezio’s Bleed for this one.
“I can give you triple the original agreement.” Desmond offered, making Kaientaronkwen’s eyes narrowed.
“In exchange?”
“Next year, I wish for you to double Khalid’s orders.” Desmond said before tilting his head, “Will that be alright?”
Kaientaronkwen looked thoughtful.
“For this year’s shipment, I’ll agree to this new price.” Desmond added as he lifted the piece of paper slightly, making sure it was folded in a way that would keep the writings hidden, “You don’t have to agree to my proposal right now. Next year, if you give the same amount then that only means your tribe did not agree to my proposal and we shall continue with the new price we have agreed upon today.”
Kaientaronkwen was quiet for a moment before he nodded, “Very well. I shall talk to my tribe about your proposal.”
“Thank you, Kaientaronkwen.” Desmond said with a smile before he waved at one of the Assassins who was part of the squad guarding the gates this morning. As he waited, he borrowed Kaientaronkwen’s quill and wrote on the piece of paper as he asked, “I assume usually Khalid would give you the payment when he meets with you?”
“Yes.” Kaientaronkwen answered with a nod, “But I always go to the castle to trade the other goods.”
Desmond lowered the paper and quill as he repeated curiously, “Other goods?”
Kaientaronkwen nodded at the other sacks, “The other goods are as per our agreement with the Hidden Ones…”
Kaientaronkwen shook his head as he continued, “Forgive me, the Brotherhood.”
“Agreement?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“I’m not surprised you weren’t informed.” Kaientaronkwen said lightly, “Our tribe has close ties with the Hidden Ones centuries ago and we continue the tradition of trading once a year with Alamut as they are the successor to the Hidden Ones, our goods for your goods.”
“I see…”
Desmond did not see.
Well, he understood what Kaientaronkwen was saying but he had no idea that Alamut had connection with Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe at all.
How?
“One of the mentors of the Hidden Ones was a close friend of a warrior our tribe had been close to, the Raven Keeper.” Kaientaronkwen explained, as if he had heard Desmond’s silent question.
Raven Keeper?
“It was through this warrior that we continue our tradition of trading with one another.”
“I… see…” Desmond looked thoughtful.
Okay, so this supposed Raven Keeper became a bridge between Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe (or the ancestors of his tribe) and the Hidden Ones, creating what may be an exclusive trade deal with them that was inherited by Alamut and now included chilies thanks to Khalid and Desmond’s experiments.
Desmond has no memories of this because his Bleed of Altaïr didn’t remember it.
And…
… something happened that destroyed or hid any and all information about this trading partnership.
Like…
The Mongols attacking the Assassins later that led to them abandoning all Assassin stronghold?
Desmond’s eyes widened.
Oh shit.
He forgot about the Mongols attacking.
But that was around the time Altaïr was about eighty plus or so…
Did Desmond really need to think about it right now?
His musing was cut short as the Assassin finally reached them, “Ah, yes. Please escort Kaientaronkwen to the castle and then go to Faheem. Give him this.”
Desmond handed the piece of paper to the Assassin who bowed, “Yes, sir.”
Desmond turned to face Kaientaronkwen as he said, “Faheem will take care of the payment.”
Or he’d be able to drag Khalid out of the tower long enough to pay Kaientaronkwen…
“Very well. Thank you for your understanding, Desmond.” Kaientaronkwen nodded at him.
“There is no need to thank me.” Desmond smiled as he replied, “I’m merely doing what is required of me.”
Kaientaronkwen stared at him as he said, “That may be so but it is not every day that we encounter someone as understanding or as fair as you are.”
Desmond simply gave him a small smile as he said, “Well, I believe that building trust is important when conducting business.”
“As with a lot of things, not just with business.” Kaientaronkwen said calmly before saying, “I have kept you long enough. May your hunt provide you with what you need.”
“Thank you.” Desmond said and he watched as Kaientaronkwen and the Assassin stepped into the wagon. Desmond and Rawiya walked away from the stable and watched Kaientaronkwen’s wagon enter Alamut.
They were quiet for a moment before Desmond asked, “You’re not going to ask me why I just raised the price without consulting anyone?”
“You have the power to do so.” Rawiya said with a shrug, “Besides, I would be worried if it was Khalid who requested more of that painful poison but you?”
Rawiya looked at Desmond and confessed with an easy grin, “I’m only half-worried.”
Desmond laughed and patted Rawiya’s back, “Come on, let’s go hunting.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stop that.”
Instead of agreeing, Rawiya simply laughed and Desmond couldn’t stop himself from laughing with him.
The hunt took up all morning and, by the time they had returned, many of the guests in neighboring lands were already making their way to Alamut. Those who came from farther lands had either taken lodge somewhere nearby or in Alamut’s palace, having arrived early. Desmond was able to blend with the other Assassins as he made his way to the thermae and took a quick bath after greeting Laleh who had taken over as the leader of the nymphs now that Hilde and Maria had resigned.
After taking a bath, he returned to his room, ignoring the sulking Aquila who had turned his bed of pillows into his own nest.
Desmond sighed as he wore a clean set of Assassin robes, “It’s just for today, Aquila. It’ll be too risky if Masyaf’s representative sees you.”
As he was adjusting his right gauntlet, he walked towards Aquila and sat next to him, “As far as everyone knows, ‘Vega’ isn’t in Alamut right now and some already know you as…”
He caressed the ruffled feathers as he continued, “… Vega’s partner.”
Aquila turned to glare at him as if to tell with his eyes how that’s just a bullshit excuse and Desmond knew it.
Yeah.
Desmond knew it.
But as long as Masyaf’s representatives were in Alamut, he didn’t want to risk anyone seeing Aquila and connecting the dots. Aquila had been careful when Desmond had traveled to Masyaf and Ḥalab but he didn’t want to even risk it right now.
Especially since Desmond knew his head was too full with so many thoughts that he needed to at least be sure that Aquila was as far away from ‘danger’ as possible.
Desmond groomed Aquila’s back as he said, “I promise I’ll give you four treats tomorrow if you promise to stay here the entire night.”
Aquila slowly turned to face him before he flapped his wings twice.
Desmond chuckled and groomed the left wing that Aquila presented him, “Alright, we’ll go hunting once everyone leaves, okay? You’ll pick our prey.”
Aquila perked and tapped his talons against the pillow below him, swaying slightly from side to side.
Desmond’s lips curved into a fond smile as he said, “Yeah, yeah, the meat will be for your treats, okay?”
Aquila patted his hand with his wing, making Desmond blink before his smile grew softer.
“Alright, I’ll save some of it for myself as well. Thank you, Aquila.”
Aquila preened at the words of gratitude, making Desmond chuckle as he caressed Aquila’s head.
“But only if you stay here the entire night. Can you do that?”
Aquila made an almost scoffing sound, as if to mimic the words ‘can I do that? Pffft’ before nodding at Desmond.
“Good.” Desmond caressed Aquila’s head a bit more before scratching his neck, maybe the eagle coo. Once Aquila was putty in his nest of pillows, Desmond stopped and stood. He walked towards his desk, taking the trinkets and books that were on top before opening the hidden compartment.
He took out the journal written in a mix of Italian, Kanien'kéha and Isu script where he wrote down all the events he could remember from what remains of Altaïr’s Bleed and flipped to the year ‘1189’.
It was still blank.
Desmond didn’t really remember anything about this year at all.
He felt like he was missing something important that was supposed to happen this year but he can’t remember what.
Was it just one of the many movements that would eventually lead to the Third Crusades?
Desmond couldn’t be sure.
He had started to look at this blank page every night ever since he had that nagging feeling in the back of his head.
He just can’t remember what it was.
Desmond sighed.
Well, nothing was going to happen if he kept staring at it anyway.
He’d just have to hope that one of these days, he’d finally get his answer.
He returned the journal and hesitated before taking out a box.
He placed the box on the desk and opened it.
This was called masochism, right?
Wishing to read all of Altaïr’s letters one last time before he go and tell Kadar who he truly was.
Who Vega truly was…
He supposed he won’t be adding any more letters in this box in the future.
Desmond’s grip on the box tightened ever so slightly before he sighed.
He closed the box and returned it to hidden compartment before closing the hidden compartment itself. He returned the trinkets and books on top, making sure they were arranged the peculiar almost chaotic way he had devised to make sure that he could spot if anyone had touched and moved them before he sighed. He caressed the folded shemagh on the desk before grabbing it, walking back to Aquila and placing the shemagh next to him. Aquila tilted his head and Desmond smiled as he said, “Take care of it for me, okay?”
Aquila stared at Desmond for a moment before he patted his arm with his wing. Aquila grabbed the shemagh using his beak and dragged it deeper into his nest before sitting on it. Desmond chuckled and scratched Aquila’s neck as he said, “I’ll see you later.”
Aquila cooed at him and watched as Desmond left their room.
Desmond took a deep breath before walking towards the stairs.
He couldn’t delay any longer.
The celebrations were about to start.
Chapter 44
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Jalāl had refused to leave the harem, going as far as crying and clinging onto his mothers’ dresses as he tried to climb them.
Desmond wasn’t there, ensuring that he was busy with the preparations of the celebrations but, from the way they had recounted it during breakfast the next day, it seemed like Jalāl’s grip on their dresses ended ripping the fabrics which may or may not have been exaggerations.
Because Desmond was safely away from all the drama, Jalāl was mad at their parents but not at Desmond.
He was sure everyone knew he had deliberately made himself busy that day and he didn’t mind admitting that they were right.
A compromise was made with Jalāl getting a new room in the harem, a way for him to get used to being away from his mothers. Of course, Zain and Kāve were not allowed to enter the harem so it fell on Desmond to escort Jalāl out of the harem after breakfast for his lessons.
They liked to remind him that he could sleep in his room in the palace so that he was nearer to the harem for breakfast but Desmond didn’t mind walking down the long staircase of the mentor’s tower and walking all the way to the harem.
Sometimes, when he was feeling really lazy, he would even use the secret passages underneath to get to the harem.
He still has no idea why the key they had given him had the Isu script of ‘Sacred Voice’ on it and he had been so busy with his duties as an Assassin and successor that he hadn’t had any real time to fully explore the underground passages.
If Alamut had an Isu temple underneath, Desmond couldn’t be sure where it was located at all.
But it was going to be a longtime project anyway.
Desmond will get a bit of free time sooner or later, after all.
Or so he hoped.
Then again, the Third Crusades were just around the corner so…
Well, now Desmond had the urge to sigh.
At the very least, Desmond knew he’d have time after Altaïr becomes the mentor… probably.
By using the secret passage to get to the harem, he entered the harem’s inner garden, slipping inside and evading the bushes. From here, the plan was to leave the inner garden and go to Jalāl’s room.
“Desmond…”
As soon as he left the inner garden, Raiza’s voice stopped him. He turned to face her and took a few steps forward to meet her as she was already walking towards him.
From the layout of the harem, Desmond was pretty sure Raiza had been walking towards the inner garden from their private chambers.
He nodded slightly as he said, “Good evening…”
…
Yeah.
He wasn’t going to call her mother.
But calling her mentor was risky as hell right now considering there were too many people in the palace at the moment.
The truth was they could never be sure how secured the palace was even if they did all they could because of the guests currently residing and visiting Alamut.
That was the main reason why Jalāl had been allowed to sleep with his mothers until everyone leaves.
Hell. Desmond was already risking it by using the secret passages but he didn’t really want to meet any of the guests in the palace beforehand and places like palaces and castles were meant to have secret passageways anyway.
He wasn’t sure if any of them would think it was rude if they remember seeing him and he didn’t talk to them first.
“Yes, good evening.” Raiza greeted back with a nod before informing him, “Nur and Dvora are with Jalāl right now, helping with his preparations.”
She looked him over briefly before commenting, “I see you decided to appear as a symbol of the Brotherhood.”
“I wasn’t going for anything deep with my choice tonight.” Desmond looked down for a moment before admitting with a grin, “I just didn’t want to dress up.”
“I suppose you can say that to anyone who dare ask.” Raiza said thoughtfully, “Although they would probably still believe you chose to dress in such humble attires to show your deference to your younger brother.”
Desmond chuckled lightly.
Sure.
His deference.
He did give Jalāl the sweet bread that was meant to be his when the child asked for it just a few hours ago during breakfast.
That could count.
“So… did you call me over because of my clothes?” Desmond asked curiously.
If it was Dvora, his tone would have been more on the teasing side. If it had been Nur, his voice would have been lighter.
But with Raiza…
There will always be a barrier between the two of them.
Desmond couldn’t really explain it other than…
If Desmond was to try to explain it to someone (not that he would ever tell anyone), Desmond supposed the closest explanation was that their relationship had been frayed from the very beginning. From the moment Raiza had decided to test Desmond immediately during their first meeting.
He knew that the other two mentors also had a hand in the entire debacle but Raiza had made it clear that it had been her decision and…
Desmond supposed he and Raiza had just… gravitated to this distance they have now.
And Desmond didn’t really feel like closing it any time soon.
“No.” Raiza answered before she began to walk, nodding at Desmond as her silent way of telling him to follow her.
They began to walk the hallway that will lead them to Jalāl’s room as she said quietly, “We’ve received news that King Henry had died and the English’s new king is one of his sons, Richard. Apparently there was a… succession dispute for quite a while.”
Richard the Lionheart.
One of the key leaders of the Crusaders.
Desmond had slowly been hearing names he remembered from Altaïr’s Bleed.
The Third Crusades was fast approaching.
“It’s only a rumor but some are saying he plans to join Emperor Frederick’s crusade by sea together with King Philip.” Raiza continued, “Tonight is meant to be a celebration and only a rude fool would talk about these kinds of things in the presence of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s son but it’s best you know this now just in case.”
Desmond nodded as he said, “Got it.”
They both stopped in front of the door that would lead to Jalāl’s room and Raiza turned to face him as she started, “If anyone was to ask…”
“Alamut will remain neutral.” Desmond repeated the words he had heard from Diya al-Dīn days ago, “Unless the crusaders threaten what is ours, we will remain neutral.”
“Good.” Raiza nodded.
Desmond knew it was lip service.
The Brotherhood would monitor and do what must be done.
But these kinds of lip service were necessary.
To keep the peace Alamut has nurtured for years.
To keep the illusion of Alamut’s neutrality.
Raiza opened the door and entered the room with Desmond following behind her. They walked towards the middle of the room where Jalāl stood, clad in long black robes with golden embroidery of coiling vines and birds in flight. A thick leather belt was wrapped around his waist which Desmond assumed was the main reason why he was standing straighter than Desmond had ever seen him. The leather belt was simple but adorned by thin golden chains and golden ropes with a purely decorative dagger with a red stone as a pommel. He also wore a coat of vibrant red and gold that paired well with his shemagh.
That he was trying to reach slowly to…
“No, sweet child.” Nur said lightly as she took the hand and guided it down.
“It itches.” Jalāl grumbled.
“I’m afraid you must endure.” Dvora said before chuckling softly. She placed both of her hands on Jalāl’s shoulders and turned him around, “Look, your brother’s here to get you.”
“De!” Jalāl exclaimed and began to make his way towards Desmond.
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile when he noticed how Jalāl looked so serious as he walked, not used to what must be such heavy clothing. He went down in one knee and greeted, “Hey, Jalāl. Ready to go?”
“Uh-huh.” Jalāl replied with a nod, turning to look up to Raiza as he asked, “Can we go?”
Raiza glanced at Nur and Dvora who both nodded before she lowered her gaze to Jalāl and said gently, “Yes, dear child. You may go with your brother.”
“Yey!” Jalāl raised his arms high up as he said excitedly, “Let’s go, De! Food!”
Desmond chuckled as he gently held Jalāl in his arms, making sure the boy was comfortably sitting in his arm while his other hand helped balance him by placing it by his back, “Alright. But first, we gotta go see father, okay?”
“Okay!” Jalāl replied with an easy grin, turning to face his mothers as he waved, “Byebye!”
“Have fun.” Dvora said as she waved back while Nur and Raiza simply nodded at the young child. Raiza turned her gaze to one of the servants standing by the door and nodded at her. The servant bowed lowly before walking out of the room.
Desmond nodded at the three women before leaving as well and saw that the servant was standing by the door. Once she saw Desmond leave the room, she turned and began to walk ahead. As Desmond began to make his way out of the harem, the servant walked ahead and opened the doors for Desmond who had his hands full with an excited Jalāl who began to ask what kinds of food did Desmond think will be there.
The servant only went as far as open the main doors for him before stepping to the side, bowing lowly. Desmond smiled at him as he said, “Thank you.”
Jalāl stopped talking about how he thought that bear meat would probably be part of the feast to repeat Desmond’s words with a big smile, “Thank you!”
Desmond chuckled and lightly knocked his forehead against Jalāl’s temple, making the boy giggle, as Desmond walk out of the harem.
“Good evening, Desmond, little prince.” Zain greeted as he stood just on the other side of the small bridge leading to the harem.
“Hey, Zain. Sorry for the wait.” Desmond greeted back as he walked towards Zain.
“Oh, that’s alright. I just got here.” Zain said, making Desmond chuckle.
“No, you didn’t.” Desmond said, knowing Zain long enough to know the young man would have arrived earlier than the appointed time.
Zain laughed but didn’t say anything, only asking, “Shall we get going then?”
“Yeah.” Desmond nodded and stepped forward but stopped when Jalāl pulled the fabric of his robes lightly. Desmond turned to look at Jalāl and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Jalāl looked around before frowning at Desmond, “Where’s Kāve?”
“Oh.” Zain smiled apologetically as he said gently, “I’m terribly sorry, little prince. Kāve was not given permission to join you for tonight’s celebrations.”
“But… but…” Jalāl turned to look at Desmond as he asked with a frown on his face, “Why?”
Oh. How was Desmond supposed to explain this…
The truth was…
Kāve was still too young and this was a very important event with powerful leaders and distant allies. Kāve hadn’t finished his training to be a guard. Hell, he hadn’t even started yet because he was still young. He was more like… Jalāl’s playmate than his guard at this point.
“Kāve’s mother cooked for him today.” Zain answered for Desmond, his tone hurried and without a hint of deception, “So he won’t be able to join the feast tonight!”
…
Desmond supposed Zain wasn’t exactly lying.
“Oh.” Jalāl’s frown still persisted but he didn’t look ready to jump out of Desmond’s arms to find Kāve which Desmond was going to take as a win.
“You’ll see him tomorrow, okay?” Desmond said lightly, patting Jalāl’s back as he continued, “And tomorrow, you can tell him all about the food you ate today, okay?”
“Okay…” Jalāl mumbled, holding onto Desmond tightly as his frown turned into a small pout. Desmond looked at Zain who smiled gratefully at him.
“Well then… shall we get going?” Desmond asked lightly.
“Of course.” Zain nodded and followed Desmond as they made their way to the palace.
By this point, all of the guests staying in the palace were already in the grand banquet hall so they were able to enter without anyone accosting them as they made their way to where Diya al-Dīn was waiting for them. Diya al-Dīn himself was waiting for them in his supposed private chambers in the palace.
Desmond stressed the ‘supposed’ part as Diya al-Dīn mostly spends his day in the office in the mentor’s tower and his nights in the harem so his private chambers in the palace was more or less empty.
Not exactly empty as it was filled with gifts he had received over the years as the imam but any personal items he might actually use or care for were in his office or in the bedchambers he used in the harem.
Which meant that his private chambers looked… gaudy in comparison to the simplicity of his office.
Desmond had never seen their bedchambers in the harem though and there was no way in hell Desmond would willingly enter those rooms for any reason that didn’t involve someone dying so he didn’t know if their bedchambers were as simple as Diya al-Dīn’s office or what amounts to a lounging room that the mentors used whenever they weren’t in the inner garden.
Desmond wasn’t sure if this was any better than the empty bedchambers he himself had in the palace, given to him years ago but he had never used at all.
He preferred the room he had in the mentor’s tower, after all.
Diya al-Dīn himself was clad in the same fabric as Jalāl underneath the dark robes he used as the imam. He looked over Desmond’s attire and simply smiled fondly as he asked, “Shall we go then?”
“Sure.” Desmond said lightly, making Jalāl copy him in a more energetic tone, “Sure!”
Diya al-Dīn chuckled and Desmond walked three steps behind him, a little to his left while Diya al-Dīn’s guards followed them from behind, flanking Zain quietly.
“az-Zahir was looking for you.” Diya al-Dīn casually dropped that bombshell as they made their way towards the grand banquet hall.
“Well, that’s one friendly face, I guess.” Desmond commented lightly, still not forgetting how the young sultan did say he was looking forward to visiting Alamut soon. Desmond had thought Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would pick someone else as their representative though.
“We shall see how friendly he truly is.” Diya al-Dīn said lightly as Bennu flew inside using one of the open windows they were passing by. Bennu landed on Diya al-Dīn’s shoulder, his eyes glowing slightly.
A clear indication that one of the mentors were watching through Bennu’s eyes.
“I heard the siege on ʻAkkā has not been going as well as Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn and his people hoped it would.” Diya al-Dīn said lightly.
“If the rumors are true that the crusaders are traveling by sea then Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn has all the reasons to make sure the siege on ʻAkkā is successful.” Desmond commented.
Although he knew that ʻAkkā would fall into crusader hands sooner or later.
By 1191, ʻAkkā was under crusaders control.
Diya al-Dīn glanced at Desmond as he said, “We shall see what happens and…”
“What Rashid will do.” Diya al-Dīn added quietly, “Common sense dictates that Rashid will help the siege. Or… so we would think.”
“What do you mean?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“If ʻAkkā is ruled by Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, he will become more powerful than he already is. He might even be powerful enough to thwart the crusaders.” Diya al-Dīn commented before glancing at Desmond once more, “And once his hold on what used to be crusader lands is fortified and stable… what do you think he will do next?”
Desmond stared at him for a moment before he realized, “You think… no…”
He glanced at Bennu before correcting himself, “You think that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn won’t stop there. He’ll turn his eyes to more distant lands.”
Desmond’s eyes widened as he realized, “No. There’s still a thorn near him.”
Desmond’s breath hitched as he whispered, “Masyaf…”
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a small smile void of any happiness as he said, “What ‘alliance’ he has with us, it was never fortified nor have we acknowledged it in writing or in words. Not to mention, his last siege on Masyaf must still sting even after he executed…”
Diya al-Dīn faltered before he continued as if nothing has happened, “And that is why Rashid has a reason to let the crusades begin.”
They stood in front of the doors that would lead them to the banquet as Diya al-Dīn quietly said, “And between the safety of the innocents and the safety of Masyaf…”
The smile on Diya al-Dīn’s lips dropped as he said, “We all know what he will choose.”
Desmond barely heard someone announce Diya al-Dīn’s official titles and name as the door opened.
He didn’t even think about this.
Was this…
Was this the reason why Rashid became a Templar?
Did he start to collaborate with the Templars because he was trying to keep Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn from growing too strong?
“I am honored to be among such great men and I thank you for accepting my invitation to celebrate this auspicious day with me.” Diya al-Dīn’s voice stopped Desmond’s spiraling thoughts and he focused his attention to Diya al-Dīn, using Jalāl’s weight and warmth to anchor himself to the present instead of being carried by his thoughts.
“Now, before we begin, I would like to introduce the true stars of this night.” Diya al-Dīn turned slightly to smile back and Desmond walked towards him, keeping his head high as he stood in front of Diya al-Dīn before gently helping Jalāl stand between them.
Jalāl gripped Desmond’s hand for a brief moment and Desmond smiled at the nervous boy, squeezing his hand as he whispered, “It’s alright, asfoor. We’re right here with you.”
Jalāl squeezed Desmond’s hand tight enough that Desmond actually felt a bit worried for his hand for a moment before he dropped it. Jalāl stared at the guests, their gazes focused on the three of them. The warm hand on his shoulder caught him by surprise but he relaxed when he recognized it as his father’s hand who continued, “This is Jalāl al-Dīn Ḥasan III, my successor and second son.”
Jalāl stared at them, keeping his hands to his side as they began to whisper, the word ‘second’ creating a wave of interest and confusion among the guests. Desmond tried his best not to smile when he noticed that Jalāl was trying his best to mimic Desmond’s blank expression…
If the glances he was giving his older brother was any indication.
Desmond patted Jalāl’s shoulder, making him puff his chest like Aquila preening over being praised.
“And this…” Diya al-Dīn placed his hand on Desmond’s shoulder as he continued, “… is my first son, Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.”
Their eyes turned from Jalāl to Desmond and Desmond remained quiet.
“Tonight is their night!” Diya al-Dīn announced, “Come, my friends! Join me in celebrating and thanking Allah for giving me such wonderful sons!”
The scholars shouted “Allah is great!” in high spirits, announcing the start of the feast and pushing the guests to join the scholars’ festive mood.
After that announcement, the feast began and it was…
It wasn’t anything special, all things considered.
Superficial conversations of safe topics. That was the most accurate way Desmond could explain it.
The scholars were also more than happy to talk about their research to anyone who asked, making small breaks here and there where the focus was away from Desmond and Jalāl.
It will always return to them though.
Especially to Desmond…
There seemed to be some confusion if Desmond was adopted or if he was truly Diya al-Dīn’s son.
Desmond was sure some, if not all, of them was trying to sus out if Desmond was Diya al-Dīn’s bastard son.
He tried to cover it with praises and politeness and Diya al-Dīn didn’t bother to either confirm nor deny it.
Naming Jalāl as his successor definitely made a lot wonder why Desmond was passed over, leading to them asking Desmond about his… hobbies or whatever inane topic they could think of.
All a way to get more information without being overt about it.
Desmond, for his part, simply spoke when he was directly being spoken to. Most of the time, he just gave Jalāl more food to try out.
Food was the best distraction to keep Jalāl from being nervous around so many strangers and it was working thankfully.
Also, by making sure Jalāl was eating, any questions directed at him could as easily be supported by Desmond or Diya al-Dīn, under the pretense of Jalāl still eating and it would be rude if he was to speak while having food in his mouth.
Strangely enough, Desmond couldn’t see anyone who could be Masyaf’s representative.
He was sure Kadar wouldn’t be in the celebration since he was just a recruit but Kadar had written to Faheem a few months ago that he was planning to request to be part of the team that would support the representative, aiming to be the errand boy.
Would Desmond have to change his plans if Masyaf didn’t send any representatives at all then?
The feast continued throughout the night and Desmond had to talk to many of them.
Too many for his taste, in fact.
It was unfortunate that az-Zahir was always surrounded by other people trying to talk to him. Desmond would take talking to az-Zahir over any of the people he had to talk to.
Powerful men.
All of them wishing to see what made him tick.
Between him and Diya al-Dīn, Jalāl was already nodding off, catching himself every time and opening his eyes wide as if that would help him stop being sleepy.
Just as the feast was almost done, the doors to the grand banquet hall opened as the announcer spoke clearly, “Announcing… Rashid ad-Dīn Sinan!”
The entire banquet became quiet and Desmond turned to look at the doors, surprised to hear that Rashid himself had decided to come to Alamut.
“Forgive my lateness, imam.” Rashid bowed lowly as a few Assassins walked inside, carrying boxes that were as large as their arms, “May these humble gifts for you and your wonderful children serve as both my apology and my sincerity to the peaceful future of Alamut.”
The Assassins remained by the door, heads bowed down to cover their faces, as Rashid walked towards Diya al-Dīn and his two sons. An Assassin wearing the robes of a Master Assassin walked behind Rashid, holding a similar shaped box in his hands.
“To the heir of our great state, I offer this gift.” Rashid said as he took a step to the side.
The Assassin walked in front of Diya al-Dīn and went down on one knee, raising the box above his head.
Rashid walked next to the kneeling Assassin and opened the box to show them a beautiful sword with a red pommel, very similar to the decorative dagger Jalāl had right now.
Rashid said something but Desmond couldn’t even clearly hear it because…
His entire gaze…
No.
His entire focus was to the Master Assassin kneeling in front of them.
… with golden eyes that had never, not even once, strayed away from his own eyes.
Chapter 45
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
What the fuck.
What the ever living fuck.
Why was Altaïr here?
Why would Rashid even bring Altaïr of all people here in Alamut?
No.
Why did Rashid even come here with so many Assassins in the first place?
Was he not worried about how this celebratory feast wouldn’t get back to Masyaf? Was he not worried that these Assassins would talk about how different Alamut was from the supposed ruins that he spoke of?
“Have you noticed?”
Desmond’s spiraling thoughts halted and he glanced at Diya al-Dīn who was nursing a goblet of wine in one hand. A specific kind of wine that was only served to the three of them, having more fruit juice than actual wine to ensure they wouldn’t get drunk.
Unlike some of their guests.
“Hm?” Desmond hummed as he leaned back, absentmindedly watching the crowd. A lot of people were talking to Rashid and Desmond knew he was playing the part of the wise old man perfectly well.
That was because Rashid was a wise old man.
Until his desire for power and knowledge consumed him beyond redemption.
But even then, he still sounded wise. A wise old man corrupted by greed and thirst for power.
“Rashid’s Assassins have all left… except for one.” Diya al-Dīn whispered near his ear, “I’m sure he had them stay nearby. Perhaps the training ring.”
“Isn’t it concerning that he brought this many Assassins in the first place?” Desmond asked.
Diya al-Dīn chuckled before saying, “I recognized all of them except that one.”
Desmond knew he was talking about Altaïr, the only Assassin who remained by Rashid’s side, head down and standing still like Rashid’s very own shadow but he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “Even though all of them had fabrics hiding half of their faces?”
“No matter how many years have passed, they still move too similarly to us.” Diya al-Dīn answered, “Those who learned to be an Assassin in Masyaf move a bit differently than us. Like him.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be exactly correct to say that I don’t recognize him though. There is only one Assassin that has golden eyes, after all.” Diya al-Dīn added, his tone almost having a slight wistfulness to it that didn’t exactly surprise Desmond at all.
Desmond simply hummed once more to let Diya al-Dīn know that he heard him.
“But the rest? They were the ones who went with Rashid against the Brotherhood’s orders.” Diya al-Dīn continued.
So they weren’t just veterans…
Rashid deliberately chose to bring Assassins who were loyal to him for so long, loyal enough to ignore the past mentor’s orders.
It was a calculated risk.
But then again…
What did they see when they got here anyway?
Night had already fallen so the town would most probably be quiet. Only the patrols would be out at this time and their only destination was a beautiful banquet filled with food and powerful men on their way to getting drunk or were already drunk beyond measures.
Not really a good impression to make.
Perhaps Rashid even made sure they were late.
Not to make a grand entrance but to make sure they wouldn’t see Alamut during the day when the town would be bustling and full of life.
And…
The recruits’ training had been secluded in the shadow’s tower since their guests started arriving with any training outside being more or less close quarters combat which could just as easily be seen as something a soldier would train for.
Even if Rashid was to send someone ahead, they wouldn’t see anything that would show the state of the Assassins here in Alamut.
They made sure of that to protect the image of Alamut having more soldiers than Assassins.
To ensure that all the guests would assume the true military might lies in Masyaf and not here in Alamut.
“I suppose there’s no risk then.” Desmond said quietly, “None of his Assassins would talk favorably of Alamut.”
Diya al-Dīn chuckled and rubbed Bennu’s neck as he said, “They might even spread unflattering rumors instead. Of how we waste what we have throwing such lavish celebrations. For what?”
Desmond turned to stare at him as he asked dryly, “Yeah, for what?”
Diya al-Dīn and Bennu stared at him and Diya al-Dīn laughed while Bennu grumbled as he shook his head, the glow of his eyes seemingly shining with mirth. Diya al-Dīn patted Jalāl’s head who had been almost nodding off between them. Jalāl blinked and his eyes went wide in an attempt to stay awake as he stared at his father who was still laughing. Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a smile as he patted Desmond’s shoulder while he replied lightly, “Do parents need a reason to show off their children?”
Desmond sighed and reminded him dryly, “A reason would be nice right now considering the circumstances.”
Jalāl turned his head to stare at Desmond and gripped his sleeve, pulling it slightly as he mumbled, “De?”
Desmond lowered his head to stare back, lips curving into a small smile as he said, “It’s okay, asfoor. Father is just being silly.”
“Silly?” Jalāl tilted his head and Desmond actually blanked out, unsure how to explain what ‘silly’ means.
Thankfully, one of their guests came over and greeted them, “I apologize for greeting you this late, ʾAʿlā Muḥammad.” az-Zahir said politely with lips curled into a small smile.
“Ah, az-Zahir! No apologies necessary! I’m sure many have much to talk about to you, after all.” Diya al-Dīn greeted jovially, “Come, sit with us! I was just thinking of thanking you for the wonderful tea you brought as a gift.”
az-Zahir sat next to Desmond, glancing at him with a gleam in his eyes as he said, “It was of no trouble. I remembered Desmond quite enjoyed that tea so I thought it would make for a nice gesture.”
“It’s definitely better than a head.” Desmond dryly added, making az-Zahir laughed. Diya al-Dīn raised an eyebrow at him and Desmond just shrugged. Diya al-Dīn didn’t ask, simply patting his knee once before turning his attention back to their guest.
“I will be quite busy tomorrow but I’m sure Desmond could join you for tea?” Diya al-Dīn suggested and Desmond tried his best not to stare at him, wondering what he was thinking.
Sure, Desmond had no urgent tasks that needed to be done tomorrow other than his daily paperwork. He wasn’t even sure if his temporary ban from the scholar’s tower was still in effect tomorrow.
“A very tempting offer.” az-Zahir commented before sighing, “Unfortunately, I must depart early tomorrow. I’m afraid I have left Ḥalab for far too long.”
It had only been a day since he had arrived in Alamut.
“Ḥalab is fortunate to have such a caring sultan.” Diya al-Dīn said and Desmond could sense that he was being genuine with his words.
“Of course, I take care of what is mine.” az-Zahir said with a smile before turning his attention to Desmond, “Although it would please me immensely if Desmond was to take the time tomorrow to see me off at the very least.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile as he replied politely, “It would be my pleasure.”
“Wonderful!” az-Zahir said in a slightly louder tone before adding in his usual tone, “Perhaps we can talk about when we can have tea once more tomorrow. Ah.”
az-Zahir turned his attention to Jalāl as he said lightly, “Of course, it would make me happy if the young prince was to join us as well. I’m sure you will enjoy the marketplace in Ḥalab. A lot of the goods sold there came from merchants coming from far away, after all.”
“Like food?” Jalāl asked curiously.
az-Zahir’s expression grew softer as he nodded, “Yes. There’s a lot of delicious and strange food there as well.”
Jalāl grabbed Desmond’s sleeve and started to pull it slightly as he said, “De! De! Food trip! Go there! Food trip!”
Desmond chuckled and patted the top of Jalāl’s head as he said, “Let’s talk about it tomorrow, alright?”
Jalāl nodded brightly, “Okay!”
“A food trip?” az-Zahir asked curiously.
Before Desmond could try and answer him, Jalāl beat him to it with the enthusiasm that should not have come from a child that was just a nod away from falling asleep, “Many, many food!”
Desmond chuckled as the boy continued, “Talk people! Eat food!”
“We bought them.” Desmond felt the need to clarify because it might sound like they had coerced people to giving them free food.
“Loooottss of food!” Jalāl opened his arms wide, “Bread, meat- Oh, fish too! Fruits! And, and, and-”
Jalāl stopped abruptly and let out a big yawn. He rubbed his left eye while gripping Desmond’s sleeve with his right hand. Desmond pulled Jalāl close and kissed his cheek before he turned to az-Zahir, “Our apologies, az-Zahir. I believe it’s time for me and my brother to retire for the night.”
“Of course, of course.” az-Zahir said with a smile, “Young boys such as Jalāl should sleep early.”
“I will also retire for the night after I finish my drink.” az-Zahir added as he raised his goblet slightly before he smiled at Jalāl as he said, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jalāl. I await for the day I can join you and your brother in this food trip of yours.”
“Mmkay.” Jalāl mumbled, relaxing as Desmond took him in his arms. He gripped the fabric of Desmond’s robes tightly as Desmond stood.
“I shall see you tomorrow morning, az-Zahir.” Desmond said with a small nod, “Please enjoy the rest of the night.”
Desmond turned to bow at Diya al-Dīn as he said, “Good night, father.”
“’night, baba.” Jalāl mumbled, eyes already closing.
“Good night, my sons.” Diya al-Dīn said softly.
Desmond only got as far as leaving the celebration before he heard a familiar voice, “Leaving already, Desmond?”
Desmond turned around and resisted the urge to hold Jalāl closer as Rashid made his way towards him.
Did he timed it so they would be in an empty hallway?
Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.
Desmond’s attention turned to the shadow behind him and he felt his breath being taken away from him.
Altaïr was staring at him.
“Or are you simply taking the prince to his room and will return to the feast afterwards?” Rashid asked and Desmond had to force himself to turn his attention back at Rashid.
Rashid wasn’t smiling, if anything he seemed to not be bothering to hide the fact that he was observing Desmond. Yet, his tone was the same as Desmond’s memories of him.
… Of the memories he still held from his Bleeds.
“No. I will be retiring as well.” Desmond answered and smiled as he added, “But don’t let me keep you from enjoying the rest of the night, Rashid.”
Rashid did not react to the sound of his name nor the way Desmond’s words were borderline disrespecting him.
“That’s a shame. There’s a lot of things I would like to talk to you about.” Rashid commented with a slight shake of his head, making Desmond want to glare at him as he sounded like he was disappointed.
No.
He sounded like Desmond had disappointed him.
Which was a load of bullshit considering not once did he approach him or Diya al-Dīn.
If anything, Desmond would bet he did it on purpose. To make the other guests feel the distance between them.
The distance between Masyaf and Alamut.
“Unfortunately, we plan to leave for Masyaf later once all the guests have left. It’s only polite to wait for them to leave before excusing ourselves, after all. I would leave as soon as possible if I could.” Rashid continued, “It would be irresponsible of me to spend too much time in this peaceful place when the call of war is looming in front of us, after all.”
Rashid was lucky Jalāl was already asleep in Desmond’s arms otherwise Desmond would have already done what he had done to Harash back in Ḥalab and placed his left hand on Rashid’s neck.
… was it because of what he had done in Ḥalab?
Did Rashid come here because of his actions then?
Or did he have any other reasons to come here?
Desmond could never be sure.
And, at this point, Desmond wasn’t even sure if it mattered at all.
Rashid’s grip on Alamut no longer exist.
Too many Assassins here didn’t look at it in a favorable light, after all.
Desmond kept his distance though.
He couldn’t risk Jalāl.
There was no way he was going to risk his little brother just to get a bit of momentary satisfaction.
So he simply smiled as he said, “If that is how you truly felt then you wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”
Desmond continued to smile as he ordered, “So, go on. Do what you truly came here for and leave.”
Desmond’s eyes narrowed even as his smile turned sweeter, “I’m sure you have other things to take care of back in your little castle, after all.”
Rashid stared at him for a moment before he chuckled, reminding Desmond of the many times he had humored Altaïr’s curiosity as a child. Rashid smiled back as he commented, “Of course, Desmond. My place is not here in the past.”
Desmond kept smiling even though he wished nothing more than to glare at Rashid. He waited as Rashid took a step to the side and said, “Since you will be retiring for the night, this will have to do. I had only wish to introduce you and Diya al-Dīn to Altaïr.”
Desmond momentarily froze before he forced his body to relax as Altaïr approached him who pulled down the fabric hiding the lower half of his face. Desmond’s attention had been at Rashid and talking to the old man was enough to keep Desmond from focusing on the way Altaïr had kept staring at him quietly the entire time. Rashid placed a hand on Altaïr’s back as he said, “During a failed siege in Masyaf this year, Altaïr showed great courage and strength. To award his bravery and skills, he has been given the rank of Master Assassin. The youngest Master Assassin in the history of our Brotherhood.”
“I see…”
1189.
An unknown force attacked Masyaf and managed to take the keep until Altaïr came and rescued Rashid…
It would be later on that they would realize that that force had been part of the crusaders, having sailed earlier than the rest of their armies.
That had been the ‘big’ event of this year that Desmond couldn’t remember.
Still…
Desmond’s smile grew softer as he said, “Congratulations, Altaïr.”
There were so many things he wished to say.
So many things he wanted to say.
But not in front of Rashid.
And…
Not now.
Not when this would be the time when Desmond was meant to destroy the connection the two of them accidentally created.
1191 was nearing.
Altaïr’s path must stay the course.
“I’m sure you will do well, obeying your master’s every order.” Desmond said as he forced himself to give Altaïr an ingenuine smile, “… like the good attack dog he raised you to be.”
Altaïr remained silent and it was unnerving.
Altaïr had mastered his expressions already and Desmond…
Desmond didn’t wish to see whatever tells remain.
He didn’t want to see Altaïr’s hatred and anger for the insult Desmond spoke of nor the betrayal he must be feeling right now.
Altaïr wasn’t stupid.
He should already know who he was.
Desmond leaned close, forcing his smile to become cruel as he whispered softly by Altaïr’s ear, “It was nice playing with you, Altaïr.”
Desmond leaned back as he said sweetly, “Good night and I will pray for your safe travels.”
Desmond ignored Rashid and walked away.
He wasn’t running away.
He was simply…
Simply…
…
… letting his connection to Altaïr die a slow death.
The evening breeze was cold against his skin. But it was bearable.
It kept him focused as he wrapped his arms around Jalāl tightly to keep him warm. The night was silent, the only sound Desmond heard were his footsteps.
It wasn’t long before he reached the harem and the doors opened for him even without him saying anything.
Two servants bowed deeply as he entered and Desmond went straight to Jalāl’s room.
He had hoped to not bump into any of the mentors.
But it seemed that his efforts were for naught…
The moment one of the servants opened the door to Jalāl’s room, he saw Nur sitting by the window, staring at the evening sky. She quietly walked towards him and took Jalāl from his arms.
Nur looked up at him and opened her mouth but Desmond didn’t really want to talk to her or to any of them right now.
Not after what he just said to Altaïr.
So he simply smiled as he whispered, “Good night.”
Nur stared at him as she let a servant take Jalāl from her arms. She stayed standing in front of him while the servants began to take off the many layers of clothes Jalāl had been wearing. Desmond froze when she placed a gentle hand on his cheek before whispering, “Good night, dear child. May your dreams be peaceful tonight.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile as he slowly relaxed. Nur’s hand was warm. He nodded as he whispered back, “Thank you.”
He stepped out of Jalāl’s room and watched the door gently close.
“Desmond.”
Desmond tried his best not to sigh.
Of the remaining two? Why couldn’t it had been Dvora?
Desmond turned to face Raiza who was walking towards him and smiled as he lightly asked, “Dvora still connected to Bennu then?”
Raiza stopped in front of him, an arms length farther than Nur had just a few moments ago. She stared at him for a moment and opened her mouth but stopped. Her brows furrowed slightly and she glanced at the ground for a brief moment before she raised her head to stare at him as she ordered, “Sleep here for tonight.”
Desmond frowned as he replied, “You know I can’t do that. If people hear that an unmarried man like me slept in the harem, it won’t be good for any of us.”
“You’re our son. It’s not that strange for you to stay the night in the harem like your brother.” Raiza countered.
Desmond sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he retorted, “My brother is a child. Of course people won’t bat an eye if he stayed here. Also, I’m adopted.”
“That doesn’t matter-”
“Raiza.” Desmond cut her off, surprising Raiza. Not that Desmond couldn’t understand why she was surprised. Desmond tried not to be rude to her but…
Desmond was tired and he really just wanted to go back to his room and sleep this night away.
Desmond sighed once more and dropped his hand as he said, “I understand that you’re worried about me thanks to this unexpected visit from dear old Rashid but I’ll be fine.”
“Faheem is just a floor below mine in the mentor’s tower and we posted a few Assassins to patrol the tower as well.” Desmond reminded her even though she had been there when they were finalizing the additional patrols for tonight and their routes. He tried to smile at Raiza as he said, “I’ll be fine.”
Raiza was quiet for a moment, simply staring at Desmond. Raiza sighed and turned around. As she began to walk away, she said, “Good night, Desmond.”
Desmond stared at her back as he whispered, “Good night.”
He quietly walked out of the harem and looked at the evening sky as he took a deep breath, letting the cold air wrap around him.
God.
He can’t wait to go back to his room and sleep.
Chapter 46
Notes:
So, first of all, announcement: next chapter will be uploaded on December 21. It will also be the last chapter for this year. After that, the next next chapter will be on January 11, just like last year :)
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Aquila was bored.
It was already night time and Desmond wasn’t back so Aquila didn’t feel like sleeping yet.
Whenever he was bored, he would fly around the castle, maybe go to the nearby forest and watch the pack of wolves that made it their territory.
It relieved some of his boredom seeing the wolves curled around one another, sometimes even grooming each other.
… because Aquila knew it was the perfect time to take one of them down.
Was he still bitter over that one time one of the wolves, the largest of the pack, had taken his prey away from him?
Yes, he was.
But Aquila was not one to take down other animals without reason.
And directly attacking the wolves would mean getting on the wolves’ bad side which would just make hunting in the forest more annoying.
The wolves stayed away from humans, and that forest was Desmond’s usual hunting spot to get Aquila’s dry meat.
If the wolves saw him and they held a grudge over something Aquila may or may not have done, Desmond would be the one to suffer since he couldn’t just fly away like Aquila could.
He knew the wolves could smell him on Desmond. It was inevitable since Aquila was always staying close to Desmond.
So yeah…
He was watching the wolves at night sometimes when he was bored to remind them of what he could do, not what he would do.
Or…
He could just hunt a small prey that he can drop in the kitchen.
One of the humans would be in the kitchen regardless of how dark it already was and he’d take care of whatever Aquila hunted. He’d even tell Desmond about it once the sun was up.
Aquila didn’t want to do this regularly though because the meat Desmond gets whenever Aquila leaves his prey to the kitchen were always lesser than it should have been if Desmond had prepared Aquila’s kill himself.
But Desmond always forced a smile whenever he brought the prey in this room and would always go to the kitchen to clean his kill instead of his cleaning the kill in this room. He praised Aquila as usual but it was clear he didn’t like having dead preys in his room.
So… Aquila would rarely go hunting at night. He only went hunting when he was truly bored and gave it to the kitchen afterwards or if he wanted what Desmond liked to call a midnight snack.
He can’t even do that even if he was so bored since Desmond told him to stay in this room for the entire day.
He would have slept but he didn’t like to sleep in this room without Desmond in it.
Aquila nuzzled the red fabric that Desmond usually wrapped around his face.
Had he been smaller, he would have been able to curl on top of it, let it cover him like a warm nest with Desmond’s scent.
Sometimes, Aquila remembered when he was quite young. No longer a chick but still smaller than how he was right now. Back then, Desmond could wrap his entire arms around him, cradle him like one would cradle a human baby.
He was warm and his voice-
Aquila’s head shot up when he heard a sound.
It was so soft.
But Aquila’s senses were sharp.
And he stared.
At the man in white robes, legs dangling on either side of the window…
Golden eyes stared back at him, both of their eyes widening at the surprise they both shared.
Aquila felt embarrassment over being seen nuzzling a piece of fabric like he was some chick.
Then…
He recognized the man who dared entered the room using the window of all things.
It was the poor man from Masyaf!
Did Desmond think Altaïr wouldn’t want to confront him?
No.
He wasn’t that naive.
But he did hope Altaïr wouldn’t be given a chance to. That he would be ordered to stay by Rashid’s side until they have returned to Masyaf.
It was a wishful thinking.
But…
He didn’t expect…
This.
“What’s… happening here?” Desmond asked as he stayed by the door, his hand still holding the door open. He didn’t even care if the confusion was obvious in his voice.
Altaïr was sitting on the floor with Aquila in front of him. They were both next to the mountain of pillows that served as Desmond’s bed.
Sure, he could commission for a bed frame and get an actual bed but the pillows served their purpose and Desmond had better things to do with his time and whatever funds he managed to accumulate but that wasn’t important right now!
Because between Altaïr and Aquila was a pile of dry meat.
… The dry meat that Desmond kept in a specific small bag just for Aquila.
Altaïr and Aquila stared at him with wide eyes as if they were two people who had just been found smuggling something illegal.
… or two schoolboys found to be looking at something forbidden.
“I…” Altaïr looked at the pile and frowned as he admitted, “I honestly don’t know.”
Desmond blinked.
Altaïr sighed as he explained, “He was flapping around and wouldn’t stop making a racket until I took that bag-”
Desmond saw him point at the bag next to Aquila which was the very same bag where Desmond stored his dry meat.
“-and opened it. He started taking these out and placing it there.” Altaïr waved his hand over the pile of dry meats in front of him, “I don’t know what he wants me to do with these.”
Desmond stared at the pile for a moment to try and guess what Aquila had been planning to do with all these but he came up with nothing. Left with no other ideas, he quietly walked towards Aquila. He sat next to Aquila as he asked, “Aquila… why are you piling these?”
Aquila stared at him before he hopped closer to the pile. He used his left wing to point at the pile then at Altaïr.
Desmond wondered if he had actually fallen asleep and this was some bizarre dream he was having as he asked the eagle, “You want to give these to Altaïr?”
Aquila nodded solemnly.
Oh.
This was certainly grave.
Aquila was voluntarily giving away food.
Aquila who stole food from his own siblings as a chick…
Aquila who still held a grudge to the wolf pack in the forest for taking away his prey once…
Aquila who would peck Khalid and Rawiya whenever they try to jokingly take his dry meat and pretend to eat it…
“Why?” Desmond asked, fearing that Aquila might be sick.
He knew that Diya al-Dīn checked the eagles in the aviary…
But was he actually qualified to be a doctor for eagles?
Did Alamut even know if there were any doctors who can check for sickness for eagles?
Aquila tilted his head for a moment before he hopped until he was just a few inches away from Altaïr’s knees. He waved his left wing towards Altaïr, making a downward motion with his wing.
Altaïr slowly leaned forward and lowered his head, staring at Aquila with confused but curious eyes. Once Altaïr had lowered himself enough, Aquila started to pat his head with his wing.
Desmond covered his lips, unsure if he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this entire thing or to be proud of Aquila for being able to do such a human-like action just to make Desmond understand him.
“I think he’s trying to console you.” Desmond said and Aquila turned to stare at him.
Aquila stopped patting Altaïr’s head and used his left wing to make a seesaw-like motion.
A motion that Desmond sometimes made to mean…
‘Sorta’.
So he was sorta consoling Altaïr but not really?
“Console me?” Altaïr straightened as he turned to look at Desmond. His lips twitched as he said, “I suppose I do deserve to be consoled.”
Desmond froze as he saw how Altaïr’s eyes were staring at his own eyes. Desmond couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.
And…
He knew deep inside him that he didn’t want to even look away.
If this would be the last time he would see Altaïr for a very long time…
He wanted…
“It’s strange, isn’t it?”
“What is?” Desmond asked, surprised by Altaïr’s question.
“The one who heard such painful words was me yet…” Altaïr raised his hand but stopped before he could touch Desmond’s cheek as he said quietly, “You look like you’re the one that needs to be consoled.”
Desmond’s eyes widened at those words and he quickly stood. Altaïr’s reflexes made him pull his hand away as he raised his head to stare at Desmond.
… with that calm expression on his face that infuriated Desmond for some reason.
“What hateful words do you mean?” Desmond asked, his lips trembling as he tried to smile, “Do you mean how I told you I had fun playing with you? Pretending to be Vega?”
Desmond stepped back and Aquila flew off the floor, landing back in his nest and watching quietly as Desmond continued, “Are you here to ask me why I never told you who I truly was?”
“I knew you were Desmond.”
Desmond felt like time had stopped, his heart beating too quickly yet his body felt cold.
Altaïr… knew?
Altaïr stood but stayed where he was, staring at Desmond as he admitted calmly, “I didn’t at first. But after Kadar let me read Faheem’s letters every month… I noticed something interesting.”
Altaïr turned to look at the window as he said, “Faheem never shied away from talking about the people he knows here. A few words here and there. It was clear he would write what he felt like writing at the moment. There’s really no careful thought in them most of time. He just wished to write to his son about the life he has here. I assume he wants to assure Kadar that he was fine.”
“It wasn’t surprising that he did not talk about ʾAʿlā Muḥammad or Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad though. It would be too much to talk about them to Kadar. Especially when the letter is to be sent to Masyaf.” Altaïr turned to look back at Desmond as he continued, “But he never talks about ‘Vega’ as well.”
“And that was suspicious? The reason why he couldn’t talk about me might just be because we used him and Kadar to exchange letters.” Desmond argued.
“Is Faheem the type of person who would not complain about you in his letters? Especially considering how my letters meant he needs to talk to you at least once a month. Is there really no way he wouldn’t have something to talk about you or even mention you in passing?” Altaïr asked back. Seeing Desmond falter, Altaïr added, “He complained about me in Kadar’s letters too. But…”
Altaïr walked towards the window as he continued, “Not once did he tell me or Kadar to send a letter to ‘Vega’ directly.”
“Faheem isn’t the type to be alright being a messenger between us for this long yet he held his tongue. He complained about me but he never told me to stop or to write to you directly. I expected him to at least allude to it vaguely in one of his letters but he never even tried. And more importantly…” Altaïr turned around and rested his back against the wall next to the window, “He never complained about you to Kadar.”
Desmond stayed standing where he was, the only light in his room the small lamp by the table he never snuffed out for Aquila and the light coming from the night sky. His voice was calm even though his heart felt ready to leap out of his throat, “You realized he never talked about Vega because Vega was of the same standing as ‘Desmond’.”
“And no one else could be of the same standing as Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.” Altaïr continued before correcting himself, “Forgive me. It’s Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III now, correct?”
Desmond remained quiet but nodded.
Altaïr turned around and stared at the evening sky, placing both of his hands on the sill as he said, “It’s quiet here.”
Desmond couldn’t see Altaïr’s expression but he could hear the wistfulness in his voice, “A shame. I had wished to see Alamut during the day. Hear the noise of the town, walk around the marketplace, buy the freshest fruits to eat while walking…”
“I thought you’d be more interested in the scholar’s tower.” Desmond commented, unsure why Altaïr’s words sounded…
… familiar…
“The books of the scholar’s tower do interest me but…” Altaïr turned to look back at Desmond as he said quietly, “I wish to see the Alamut you see.”
Desmond’s eyes widened as he remembered.
Those words were ones he had written in his letters.
Altaïr remembered his letters.
Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile as he asked, “Shall I console you this time, Desmond?”
“Wha-” Desmond covered his mouth with one hand, wondering what expression he was making for Altaïr to ask such a question once more. He knew Altaïr was walking towards him but he couldn’t stop him even if he wanted.
This conversation wasn’t going as Desmond expected it to.
He had been ready for Altaïr’s anger.
But this…
“Why?” Desmond whispered just as Altaïr reached him. He lowered his gaze as he reminded Altaïr, “I lied to you. And I… I…”
Altaïr leaned close and wrapped his hand around Desmond’s wrist, gently pulling his hand down, “Would you like me to hate you, Desmond? For what?”
Desmond’s heart felt like it was about to burst out.
He felt happiness in hearing Altaïr say his real name.
He felt confusion because of this current situation.
And…
Bitterness…
For what he knew he should do.
“You should.” Desmond raised his head to stare at Altaïr as he said slightly louder than usual, “I was using you, you know? I got close to you because I want you for Alamut. I-I-”
“Why…” Desmond whispered as his hands trembled and his shoulders slumped. He could feel the warmth of Altaïr’s hand. It did not anchor him. It only made him be unable to stop himself from asking, “Why don’t you hate me?”
Altaïr stared at him and Desmond couldn’t understand why he could smile like this.
Like…
Like he was looking at something…
“Did you know, Desmond?”
… so precious to him…
“You’re quite bad at lying.”
Desmond felt Altaïr place a hand on his cheek and Desmond couldn’t stop himself from thinking how this entire thing was so ridiculous.
Desmond could feel this frustration building up inside him.
Aimed at Altaïr…
Aimed at himself…
Aimed at this entire situation…
Altaïr leaned closer as he said, “You called me Al Mualim’s attack dog and you’re right. That’s what I am. That’s how I was raised to be.”
“Altaïr…” Desmond couldn’t speak as he felt Altaïr lightly press his forehead against his.
“I was born to serve a master.” Altaïr continued, “It’s the only life I know.”
“Don’t say that!” Desmond was unable to stop himself, pulling away from Altaïr’s grasp to grab both of his arms, “You don’t have to serve anyone, Altaïr! You… you deserve…”
What was Desmond doing?
Altaïr had given him the weakness to attack and exploit.
To hurt Altaïr enough for him to finally leave.
But Desmond…
“I…” Desmond’s hands trembled even as he gripped Altaïr’s arms tightly.
He knew he should let go.
But…
He couldn’t.
He didn’t want to.
“Order me to stay.” Altaïr whispered, making Desmond freeze. He slowly moved closer, their noses almost touching as he whispered, “Order me to stay here with you, Desmond. Order me to swear my allegiance to Alamut.”
The lamp’s light made Altaïr’s golden eyes glow and, this close, Desmond couldn’t help but notice the clarity in his eyes.
“If it’s you…” Altaïr whispered, “I don’t mind changing masters.”
“I don’t want to be your master, Altaïr.” Desmond whispered back as he let go of Altaïr’s arms. He placed both of his hands on Altaïr’s cheeks as he whispered, “And your place is…”
The words felt heavy and painful as they passed Desmond’s lips, “Your place is in Masyaf.”
“Then you don’t have to be my master, Desmond. I will give my blade to your father. I will abandon everything I know, leave Masyaf without looking back…” Altaïr placed his hands on Desmond’s waist as he whispered, “Just tell me to you wish me to stay with you.”
“I… I wish…” Desmond could feel the tears finally building up, frustration and sorrow finally demanding an outlet that Desmond could barely contain.
“I can’t.” Desmond whispered, unable to stop the despair that seeped into those two words. He lowered his hands and placed them on Altaïr’s chest, pushing him lightly as he whispered, “You can’t stay here.”
“You’re truly awful at lying, Desmond.” Altaïr whispered as he let Desmond push him away, letting go of Desmond’s waist.
“But… I know you’re not lying when you say you can’t.” Altaïr continued and grabbed one of Desmond’s hand. He opened one of his pouches with his other hand as he said, “So I will honor your words, even if they are not the entire truth… for now.”
Altaïr took out a small box and placed it on Desmond’s open palm. He kept his hand on top of the box as he swore, “But I haven’t given up on you, Desmond.”
Altaïr stared at Desmond with clear golden eyes as he said, “You seem to believe you know what I deserve. I myself do not know what I deserve but I know what I want.”
“What I want is you, Desmond.” Altaïr announced, “And I will wait, no matter long it takes. I will wait for you to say you wish to be with me.”
“I…”
Desmond couldn’t stop himself.
He was too tired to force himself to not say it.
“You’ll have to wait decades.” Desmond said softly. His lips curved into a mirthless weak smile, “Maybe about thirty years.”
He had wanted to say it lightly, to make it a joke.
But it ended up full of sorrow and despair even to Desmond’s ears.
Altaïr’s own lips curved into a small smile that seemed fond…
… and hopeful.
“I can wait that long.” Altaïr said, “And…”
Altaïr gently pulled Desmond’s hand and pressed his lips against Desmond’s knuckles, “I’m sure I can find a way to lessen that sentence sooner or later.”
Desmond’s chuckle was weak yet he couldn’t help himself.
Altaïr’s confidence made him feel just a little bit lighter.
“Goodbye for now, Desmond.” Altaïr whispered as he let go of Desmond’s hand. He began to walk backwards, his eyes never straying away from Desmond, “Next time we meet…”
“I hope you will ask me to stay with you.”
Desmond watched as Altaïr jumped out of the window.
He didn’t even need to walk towards the window and check.
He knew Altaïr would be alright.
And…
He knew…
Whatever fight he had left in him would finally crumble if he saw Altaïr walk away.
So he stayed standing where he was.
He heard Aquila make a soft cooing sound and Desmond whispered, “I’m okay.”
Desmond turned to smile at Aquila weakly as he repeated, “I’m okay.”
He clenched his hands, feeling the box dig onto his palm. He stared at the box in his hand, small enough to fit in his hand and opened it.
Inside, the box was filled with countless seeds and…
A smooth rock that had been painted red…
The same red as his shemagh.
Notes:
Since we didn’t get another Aquila POV to make it clear… Aquila wasn’t trying to console Altaïr. He doesn’t even know what happened with him and Desmond. Aquila was trying to explain that he felt pity for Altaïr being poor so he was giving him dry meat (as well as guilt for the dry meat he ate for the ‘poor’ man).
Chapter 47
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Your thoughts seem to be flying far away.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small mirthless smile as he explained vaguely, “I apologize. I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
az-Zahir’s smile was polite and his tone was light as he commented, “There is no need to apologize. If I was in your position, I would also find it hard to sleep when the Old Man of the Mountain is nearby.”
“Rashid is an important member of our Brotherhood.” Desmond reminded az-Zahir without lying about the true nature of Rashid’s relationship with Alamut even though it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
az-Zahir simply chuckled lightly before he said, “I’m sure he is. But he didn’t even bother to talk to you or to your father after making such a show with presenting his gifts. If it was another person, people would think he… ah, forgive me… that person was simply doing the bare minimum of what was required of him and showing the riches he has procured by himself.”
Desmond kept his expression relaxed as he agreed lightly, “You’re right. If it was any other person, of course.”
“Of course.” az-Zahir repeated with the same light tone.
“Rashid was surrounded by people most of the time.” Desmond said, trying to push away the memory of one of the few times he had not been surrounded by people and managed to talk to Desmond, “So many of the other guests were waiting for their chance to talk to him, it’s understandable that he would prioritize them. After all, we can talk any time we want.”
Not that Desmond wanted to talk to Rashid…
“Of course.” az-Zahir was clearly humoring him by repeating his previous words but Desmond let it go. It was a bit concerning how az-Zahir was able to understand the implication of Rashid’s actions yesterday.
He was sure that az-Zahir would have more conviction in his comments had he known that Rashid even made sure to talk to Desmond while no one else was around.
Rashid was trying to tell everyone that he wasn’t close to Alamut.
Perhaps even trying to make them see that he was a leader of his own right and not under Alamut, with his own men and riches.
Desmond was sure Diya al-Dīn and the mentors knew it but he also knew that they wouldn’t say anything about it.
If Rashid officially breaks off his connection to Alamut, that would be all the better for Alamut. Whatever move Rashid would make would no longer reflect back to Alamut.
But Desmond was certain that Rashid wouldn’t go as far as making it clear to everyone.
Because being connected to Alamut was a type of power and prestige that Rashid would be mad to throw away.
His situation-
No…
Masyaf’s situation in al-Sham wasn’t stable.
Especially with the Third Crusades rearing its ugly head…
Alamut might not be near the central conflicts plaguing al-Sham but Alamut stood in a mountain filled with history that showed their power and greatness.
The people of al-Sham might see Rashid and his Assassins as the Assassins but, beyond al-Sham, people still believe that Alamut holds the power.
Even if the Assassins in Masyaf had been indoctrinated to believing that Alamut had fallen, it was a different story outside of Masyaf. Desmond was sure that Rashid was trying to portray Alamut as a ruined kingdom trying to pretend to powerful but that doesn’t change the fact that, in the eyes of the other kingdoms and neighboring lands, Alamut was still a force to be reckon with.
As long as the imam was in Alamut…
“We are ready to depart, sir.” One of az-Zahir’s guards announced as he stood behind az-Zahir.
az-Zahir waved his hand as he said, “Thank you, Ahmed.”
az-Zahir’s smile grew a little as he said, “I suppose this is goodbye then. I do hope you and your brother will take the time to visit Ḥalab one of these days.”
“I’ll do my best to persuade our parents.” Desmond replied politely as he smiled back. He nodded as he said, “Safety and peace, az-Zahir.”
“Ah, yes, a common phrase your Brotherhood uses correct? My uncle told me about it. In that case, it’s only right that I answer your honesty with…” az-Zahir’s smile made him look as young as he was right now as he said back, “Upon you as well, Desmond.”
Desmond watched az-Zahir and his entourage leave Alamut, just as the sun was beginning to rise. There was still a bit of time before he should go to the harem and have breakfast with everyone.
After that, Desmond was sure the rest of the day (perhaps the next few days even) would be packed with helping Diya al-Dīn in taking care of the remaining guests as they prepare to leave.
… or nurse their hangover first.
Knowing now would be the best time as any, Desmond made his way back to the castle.
To the scholar’s tower…
The gold in his eyes were mesmerizing, reminding Dastan of golden gems kissed by the light of the sun-
Nope.
Desmond immediately closed the book and placed it back on the table.
He tried.
He truly did.
But he would rather fight an entire army than be forced to read through Peredur’s book.
Especially this new book…
He knew that Altaïr’s character would be making his first appearance in this book.
His character had been talked about in previous books, a looming shadow that felt like he was meant to be the rival to Desmond’s… character.
Ugh.
Just thinking about how this Dastan was written after him made Desmond’s body shiver.
He didn’t mind if Peredur was to write these books as they were so far off reality that saying the character was loosely based on Desmond was an understatement.
But…
Now that Altaïr’s character had made his first real appearance in the book…
Desmond felt the need to skim through it.
Just to be sure Peredur didn’t go overboard and portray Altaïr in a truly unflattering light.
What he read in the book though…
Desmond took the book before he slowly opened the book and flipped the pages.
He could skim it.
He could survive skimming it.
Desmond took a deep breath before quickly reading through it, all in hopes of keeping his sanity intact.
The book ended with Dastan and Altaïr’s character, Shahbaz, meeting for the first time. Prince Dastan had been sent by his father to find out what a nearby kingdom was hiding and he ‘coincidentally’ met with Shahbaz in the castle where they had to stay in a room for a bit while the guards patrolled the hallways.
It was obvious that Peredur based this on Desmond and Altaïr’s real first meeting.
But that was strange because Desmond did not tell Peredur about that.
Hell, the only people he told about their meeting had been Diya al-Dīn and the mentors. And, even then, he had only told it to them like he was giving a report and skipped a few of the details that were added in this book.
Which meant Peredur learned of this ‘incident’ from someone who did know about their first meeting.
And that person could only be Kadar.
Would Altaïr really tell Kadar about that day?
Desmond would like to say no. As far as Desmond remembered, Altaïr wasn’t close to anyone enough to tell them such a private meeting, especially about ‘Vega’.
But Faheem seemed to truly believe that Kadar was Altaïr’s friend. Desmond had even heard him admit one time that he had been worried about Altaïr simply taking advantage of Kadar misunderstanding just how close they are. He had also admitted that he knew all his worries were for naught as Altaïr had shown without a shadow of a doubt that he does think of Kadar as a close friend.
How Altaïr had shown it to Faheem? Desmond has no idea.
The important thing was this made Desmond realize that he was wrong about how close Altaïr and Kadar were.
Which meant that Peredur might have more information about Altaïr than Desmond had expected if he kept a regular correspondence with Kadar. After all, there were (misguided) reasons for the Assassins in Alamut to not take any letter Altaïr penned for ‘Vega’ but there was no reason they wouldn’t take and deliver a letter Kadar would send to Assassins other than his father.
That would mean Desmond needed to read this book just to be sure it wouldn’t pose as a danger to Altaïr in some way or another.
Or… so that was his thoughts.
But the final scene between Dastan and Shahbaz…
Dastan could feel his golden eyes staring intently at him. The music of his heart was growing louder and louder as he saw Shahbaz take a step closer. He could feel his breath against his skin, the warmth radiating from his body, the scent of-
Bam!
The door opened with a loud sound that echoed all around the room.
To be continued…
To be continued?
To be fucking continued???
Was Peredur crazy?!
He was going to end this book on a cliffhanger?!
Oh god, people were going to storm the castle and burn the scholar’s tower…
Wait.
Desmond needed to calm down.
He was getting worked up over something so trivial-
“What are you doing?”
Desmond quickly closed the book and placed it back on the table before turning around as fast as he could.
Faheem simply stared at him, one hand still gripping the handle of the door he had opened to enter his office.
“Desmond.” Faheem greeted dryly as he entered his office, closing the door behind him. His tone held a hint of concern as he asked, “Are you alright?”
“Hm?” Desmond blinked and grinned as he replied, “I’m always alright.”
“Yes, I should have expected you to answer that.” Faheem sighed before walking towards his desk as he said, “I was asking because your face is red.”
“Is it?” Desmond pulled up his shemagh to cover his lower face, making Faheem roll his eyes.
“Hiding it now would do you no good.” Faheem dryly stated as he sat on his chair and Desmond let out a sheepish grin as he pulled his shemagh back down. Faheem’s eyes flickered towards the book that Desmond had returned to his desk before he stared at the Assassin in front of him, “I assume if I ask you, you’ll simply tell me that I’m imagining things then?”
“Yeah, probably.” Desmond agreed, although considering how bad he was at lying, he’d probably just return the question with another question.
If Faheem was going to believe that Desmond would actually flat out lie to him then Desmond wasn’t going to stop him from thinking that. That made it easier for him, after all. Instead, Desmond focused on why he was waiting for Faheem in his office.
“You messed with the patrols in the mentor’s tower yesterday, didn’t you?”
Faheem simply stared at him for a moment before he sighed, “I sent the report to the mentor’s office already.”
“I know.” Desmond took out the report Faheem was talking about, making Faheem raise an eyebrow.
“Should I be surprised that you took a look over the mentor’s paperwork this early in the morning?” Faheem asked lightly as he leaned his back against his chair while taking the report from Desmond.
“Diya al-Dīn has been suggesting that I start taking over the paperwork that concerns the Brotherhood without waiting for him to give them to me. I’m only honoring his wishes.” Desmond said with a smile while Faheem looked over the report Desmond had handed.
“This is, indeed, my report and I have no plan to change a word.” Faheem said as he handed the report back to Desmond who took it without any complaints. Faheem raised an eyebrow once more as he watched Desmond return the report back in one of his small bags, “Strange that it should coincide a day after-”
“This report states that you ordered the patrol to check the west side of the tower because you believe you saw, and I quote, ‘Rashid’s dogs’ nearby.” Desmond dryly said.
“Is that a problem?” Faheem challenged.
“Yes.” Desmond placed a hand on the table as he growled, “If you’re going to help Altaïr, at least help him use the stairs instead of climbing the walls.”
Faheem blinked.
And blinked once more.
Faheem’s expression turned to one of annoyed resignation as he asked, “That’s what you’re worried about? How I help that boy?”
“This is ridiculous.” Faheem mumbled under his breath as he shook his head, “Desmond. I supported him in whatever way I could, given that fool decided to sneak around the tower without giving me any prior notice. And I did well, if I do say so myself. If he wanted to, he could just as easily used the stairs. He’s the idiot who decided to climb the walls. If you want to be angry at someone, aim your ire at him, not at me.”
Desmond dropped his hand and took a deep breath.
It was ridiculous.
He was being ridiculous.
Altaïr was fine.
He would be fine.
Climbing a tall tower like he did last night would be child’s play for someone like him.
The only reason why he even learned about Altaïr’s route was because Aquila had mimed it for him after he had asked how Altaïr got inside when it had been clearly locked.
Still…
He didn’t have to take such risk.
Which only meant…
“Did you know he didn’t trust you enough to believe you’d help him get inside the tower?”
Faheem was quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving Desmond’s own.
“I know he didn’t trust me enough to believe that I would help him that far.” Faheem answered solemnly, “That boy doesn’t trust anyone that much except maybe…”
Faheem’s lips curved into a small smile that was tainted by sadness, “If I was still the man I had been back in Masyaf, I would say that he doesn’t trust anyone as much as he trusts Rashid but…”
Faheem’s eyes were unnervingly focused on Desmond as he said, “I can say with certainty that is not the case. Not anymore.”
Desmond remained quiet and Faheem didn’t seemed surprised by it. Instead, he took the book on the desk and held it as he asked, “Will you answer my question now, Desmond?”
Desmond stared at the book as he said, “Print it, Faheem. But tell Peredur…”
Desmond’s cheeks grew hot as he demanded in a quiet tone, “He can’t write further than a… kiss…”
Faheem stared for a moment before he said, “I don’t want to know the details.”
“We didn’t-”
“Spare me the details.” Faheem cut him off, making Desmond groan. Faheem placed the book on top of the stack of paper to his left as he asked, “Shall I take this as your answer then, Desmond?”
“Yes.” Desmond lowered his hand. His lips curved into a helpless sad smile as he finally answered the question Faheem had asked him all those months ago, “I don’t want Altaïr to hate me.”
The rest of 1189 was filled with more news of Emperor Frederick Barbarossa’s journey to reclaim Jerusalem.
He found oppositions in many fronts, including the Byzantine Empire.
Alamut did not make a move to intercept or help any side but many of their Assassins were sent to locations that they believe Barbarossa would journey to.
Intel was more important now than ever and they could no longer rely on what the merchants could give them whenever they visit Alamut.
Desmond didn’t know what would happen.
His memories of the Third Crusades were clearest on 1191.
June to September of 1191, to be more exact.
If Desmond was to make a guess, he would be warier of the crusaders using ships to make their way to Jerusalem than the crusaders using the roads.
From what he could see, Diya al-Dīn and the mentors also believe that the true danger lies in the sea.
Especially as they had no information of how those crusaders were faring at all.
Desmond was sure that, by this point, it was only a matter of time before the crusaders would reinforce Acre.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was never going to get Acre.
And Desmond couldn’t help but wonder if Rashid made sure of that.
Before long, it was already 1190 and the news of Barbarossa dying due to drowning last year was already replaced by news of an outbreak in Acre during the summer that took the life of the Queen Sibylla and her daughters. The current ruler of Acre, Guy, no longer held the authority to rule and the true queen, Isabella, was married to Conrad (there was something about a hasty divorce as well) and Conrad was now the ruler of Acre. Guy still demanded to be recognized as the rightful king though so Acre was now stuck in a three-way power struggle among Guy, Conrad and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
In… ‘nicer’ news, Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe had agreed to Desmond’s proposal and Desmond was now in the process of employing people and teaching them how to make chili oil.
It’s a bit different from the usual kind of chili oil though because Desmond only plan on selling the oil. The chilies themselves would have to be used by the castle.
This way, it would make it a little bit harder for anyone curious to find out what was used to make the oil spicy.
Khalid had assumed he had planned to weaponize the chilies but no. Desmond just felt this urge to start a small business for his own personal funds.
Why?
He truly has no idea.
He just felt like it for some reason.
Maybe it was because he saw an opportunity to monopolize a product he knew would make a killing in the market.
Maybe it was one of his Bleeds’ remaining ghosts that pushed him to have some kind of financial independence.
Maybe he just wanted a hobby.
At this point, Desmond didn’t know and wasn’t going to question it.
In more pressing news, Diya al-Dīn and his wives had made it clear that they know about Desmond and Altaïr’s… ‘thing’ and they made their stance quite clear.
Hard not to learn about it when Dvora randomly asked him to play the Duduk with her a week after the book was finally published.
Desmond has already heard of the whispers and concerns about… well… everything that had to do with the obvious ‘mysterious’ tension that Peredur had written for Desmond’s and Altaïr’s characters. Luck was on Peredur’s side as he had been sent to Acre to pretend to be an informant and spy on both the crusaders and Rashid's Asasssins, otherwise, Desmond knew it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that people would be hounding Peredur day and night.
“So… did you volunteer to be the one to warn me away from Altaïr or did you lose some kind of bet?” Desmond asked once they took a break from playing their Duduk.
Their playing was flawless, as usual, and Desmond wondered if Dvora would teach Jalāl the Duduk as well or if he could be the one to teach his younger brother instead.
“What makes you believe that I will stand in the way of love?” Dvora asked and Desmond made sure he was able to fake the embarrassment and disgust on his face to accompany the obviously fake swooning that Dvora was doing.
Dvora chuckled softly before poking Desmond’s arm with her Duduk, “I volunteered. I figured since I was the one who first realized that you were in love-”
“I’m not in love…” Desmond mumbled.
Seeing Dvora raise an eyebrow at him, Desmond sighed before admitting, “Okay, I love him but… I don’t know if I’m in love with him.”
That was the problem.
Desmond had always loved Altaïr.
That was a given.
He had loved Altaïr for a long time.
That was his curse as Subject 17.
He loved the Altaïr of his memories.
But the Altaïr he talked to that night…
The Altaïr who was still writing to him and hiding them in Kadar’s letters to his father even though Desmond has not sent even a single word to him after their last conversation…
He was…
Desmond sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s complicated.”
“Oh, it’s definitely complicated, that’s for sure.” Dvora agreed lightly, letting out a sigh of her own before commenting, “Of all the men you could have chosen, you chose Rashid’s favorite child.”
“I didn-” Desmond stopped and closed his mouth.
He didn’t really want to explain it to anyone.
Explaining whatever was between him and Altaïr meant explaining that night and Desmond…
Desmond didn’t want to share that with anyone.
That night was theirs alone.
… and Aquila’s, he supposed, considering Aquila was there to watch the entire thing (and not understand most of it hopefully).
“If you’re not certain of how you feel about him, that’s fine too.” Dvora said with a soft smile, “Feelings can be simple or complicated. Stable or fickle. Predictable or unpredictable.”
“What matters is that you get to that point where you won’t second guess your feelings for someone.” Dvora continued as she placed her hands and the Duduk on her lap, “Maybe not today, maybe not weeks from now, maybe even years from now. You don’t need to rush it.”
Dvora’s smile turned into a teasing grin as she added, “If he truly loves you, he will wait for you no matter how long it takes.”
Desmond knew there was wisdom in her words.
But he was going to ignore it right now because he was ignoring the whole ‘feelings’ part.
“So…” Desmond lightly changed the subject, “Why’d you really volunteer?”
Dvora let him change the subject and replied lightly, “I was worried, of course.”
Dvora leaned close and whispered, “Nur knew she wouldn’t be able to give you a good advice and Raiza… well…”
Dvora’s smile grew fond and exasperated as she admitted, “I was worried that she’d panic and say the wrong thing all the while looking like she knows what she’s saying like…”
Dvora cleared her throat and tried to mimic Raiza’s voice as she said, “He will be a good addition to Alamut. He is wasted as Rashid’s child.”
Before Desmond could react, Dvora continued, “Instead of just saying that she’ll support you if you do decide to bring that boy here in Alamut.”
“Oh.” Desmond blinked.
He knew he couldn’t bring Altaïr here in Alamut.
If Altaïr was ever to come to Alamut, it would decades from now…
But Desmond would have definitely taken Raiza’s words on face value if she did say something like that.
He wouldn’t even question it.
Honestly?
It was even harder to believe that Raiza might not have an ulterior motive to wanting Desmond and Altaïr to have some kind of intimate relationship.
He wasn’t going to say it out loud though.
It was also that year that…
The seeds Altaïr had given him bloomed into red flowers with five round petals that slightly overlapped with one another. Desmond wasn’t sure but they looked so similar to hibiscus that they might be from the same ‘family’. Especially the long stem at the center of the flower covered by small fuzzy yellow things Desmond didn’t know the name of.
Their red color wasn’t the same shade as Desmond’s shemagh but it was the closest color to his shemagh that Desmond had seen on a flower.
A retired Assassin who took care of the gardens of the castle as his retirement ‘hobby’ told Desmond that he had only seen these kinds of flowers before when he had been on a mission in a land he called al-Yaman. He remembered them because they were flowers that could usually be found in inland cliffs or mountain peaks.
Desmond’s cheeks warmed at the very idea that Altaïr had traveled to such places just to gift Desmond with their seeds.
Until he remembered that the logical explanation would be that Altaïr had actually bought the seeds from a merchant somewhere.
Still… Desmond found himself taking care of this little patch of red flowers after breakfast. Sometimes, Jalāl would even join him until Kāve had to drag him away so he could go to his lessons.
The other Assassins know of this and that was why one of them had come to get him while he was checking if the leaves were healthy.
He had seen a few leaves with holes in it and had been wondering if it was a one time thing or if he should ask the scholars about what kind of pesticide they had.
“The recruits are ready for this year’s hunt, sir.”
“Alright.” Desmond sighed as he got up.
He only saw one leaf with a hole so maybe there was no need for a pesticide yet?
He should really ask the scholars if holes were okay or not.
But first…
“Let’s go.” Desmond nodded at the Assassin, one of the novices that he had taught how to hunt last year. The novice bowed slightly and walked beside him.
Desmond always preferred it when people walked beside him, not behind him.
He didn’t care if walking behind him was a sign of respect, it only served to make him paranoid.
It took a while before the other Assassins (especially the ones who were initiated after him) could comfortably walk beside him.
Next on his list was to make the younger Assassins stop calling him ‘my lord’ or ‘sir’ and maybe-
“Hm?”
Seeing Desmond stop walking just as they passed the thermae, the Assassin stopped as well and turned to face Desmond as he asked, “Is something the matter, sir?”
Was something the matter?
Yeah.
He just saw Adha enter one of the hidden passageways.
Adha hadn’t visited Alamut since news of Barbarossa journeying towards Jerusalem started to spread.
Desmond frowned.
Was she planning to use the hidden passageway to enter the mentor’s tower undetected?
She didn’t have to.
And Diya al-Dīn didn’t say anything about Adha and her father visiting Alamut.
Strange.
“My lord?”
“Hm?”
Desmond gave him a small smile as he said, “It’s nothing. I just thought I saw something.”
If Adha needed to talk to the man she believed to be the mentor in secret…
… Desmond could just ask Diya al-Dīn what they talked about later after he returned from the hunt.
Notes:
Desmond and the others might not know it by name but the seeds Altaïr gave him is one of the species of Hibiscus only found in Yemen, usually found in rocky areas like inland cliffs or mountain peaks. There are actually a few to choose from but they didn’t have any pictures other than Hibiscus stenanthus so I went with Hibiscus stenanthus when I described the flowers.
In hanakotoba, hibiscus usually means “delicate beauty” or “new love”. A red hibiscus can also mean “bravery”/”heroic” and “a continuous new beauty”.
This is the final chapter for this year. I’ll see you guys on January 11 for the next chapter!
Chapter 48
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
I’m baaccck!!! January 11 is Altaïr’s birthday and to celebrate, here’s the much requested Altaïr POV!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Altaïr was young, he would often wonder what his life would have been like had his mother not died to give birth to him.
His wondering would always lead him to dream of a family with both of his parents and a younger sibling.
Someone who would play with him and would follow him around.
… someone who would stay with him when his father would be away on a mission.
It was a selfish dream.
Altaïr did not dream for his mother to be alive so that the hole in his father’s heart would be healed.
He did not dream of a younger sibling because he believed his parents would show their love for one another by having another child.
No.
Altaïr dreamed of such warmth because he was so cold.
No matter how many blankets he would hide in.
Even if he closed the window in their room…
No.
Not their room…
His room.
His father was long gone.
It was only him left.
The coldness he felt was inside of him.
It would be a few more years before he knew the name of the cold that clawed inside of him.
Loneliness.
It had been the coldest the first few weeks after his father had died.
It would be a little later that he would grow numb to the cold.
… after watching Ahmad Sofian take his own life in front of him.
He could not find it in his heart to hate Ahmad Sofian.
He had tried.
Perhaps the flames of hatred would grant him warmth from both the numbness and the cold it hid.
But he couldn’t.
Not after seeing how much in pain Abbas was over the ‘disappearance’ of his father.
But he had promised Al Mualim to keep the truth about Ahmad’s death a secret.
To protect Abbas.
But was hiding the truth truly protecting Abbas?
The hope that Ahmad would return had turned into chains that kept one of Abbas’ feet buried into the past.
Altaïr truly did believe Abbas deserved to know the truth.
Only then could he move forward.
So he told him…
He was jealous of Abbas.
Abbas had turned their friendship into a flame that will never die.
Hatred.
Altaïr could not even keep a single candle to hate Ahmad for killing himself after betraying his father.
But there was a spark.
Every time Abbas would talk to him with words wrapped in poisoned thorns.
Altaïr felt a spark.
A spark of anger that was quickly snuffed by a stab of pain over how easily the man he thought of as a brother could call him a liar and hate him.
It was the pain that annoyed Altaïr.
It would have been so much easier had he become numb to Abbas’ words as well.
Then he heard whispers of an Ibn-La'Ahad in Alamut.
Altaïr didn’t pay it any attention at first.
There were many Ibn-La'Ahads in Masyaf. Children who didn’t know their parents were easy to recruit, after all.
Masyaf did not care for one’s parentage or lineage. They were all equal.
Brothers.
Or so they should have been.
Altaïr was special.
He had always been special.
And everybody expected him to live to that title.
So he ignored the whispers and continued with his training.
But then…
Rumors of Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad continued to follow his every move even when he ignored them, he could still hear them.
People started to compare them.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad was special too.
But Altaïr had to be more special.
Al Mualim would tell him that he didn’t need to be better. He would place his hands over Altaïr’s shoulders and tell him in that kind voice that Altaïr used to imagine what his grandfather would sound like when he was younger…
“You are already better than him, Altaïr.”
“You simply need to show everyone that.”
It would have been easy to hate Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
To hate a man he had never seen before.
But Altaïr could not. It would be unfair.
It wasn’t Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad’s fault that Altaïr could not live to everyone’s expectations.
It wasn’t Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad’s fault that Altaïr could not be as special as Al Mualim believed him to be.
Altaïr simply needed to do better.
He must be better.
And…
The more he hears of how Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad looked like him, the more Altaïr wished to see him.
Adha was the closest person to a friend Altaïr had when he was young. They met a few times as children when his father would take him out of Masyaf whenever his mission would be more on the safe side. Their fathers had been longtime friends, having met when his father was recruited by Al Mualim and started to live in Alamut to be an Assassin. There were talks of Adha and Altaïr being betrothed to one another although it was never official. Altaïr heard them talk about it before, how Al Mualim was against the betrothal unless Adha was to be sent to Masyaf.
Adha’s father had been livid, shouting that he would never let his daughter be placed in ‘that old man’s cage’. Altaïr’s father grew angry at those words, defending Al Mualim.
Altaïr and Adha didn’t even have time to say goodbye to one another after that, both of their fathers dragging them away as they focused on their rage and indignation instead of their friendship.
A few weeks later, his father was executed. The letters from Adha’s father continued for a few more years, always saying the same thing.
Asking how Altaïr was doing…
Requesting that he and Adha meet…
Reminding Al Mualim that his and Adha’s betrothal was a promise that their fathers had made to one another and should be honored…
Adha and her father never visited Altaïr in Masyaf and Altaïr knew the reason why.
Al Mualim always replied that the betrothal will be honored when Adha becomes part of Masyaf.
The letters stopped when Altaïr was initiated.
The day he realized Al Mualim stopped telling him that another letter came from Adha’s father, he knew…
Adha’s father had given up on him as well.
To protect his daughter from Al Mualim…
But Altaïr and Adha met by chance a few years back. Back when Altaïr was already an Assassin and Adha was helping her father selling their wares.
Both the goods they sell and…
The information that can be bought for a price.
Adha recognized him immediately.
Altaïr did not.
They talked. Altaïr felt nothing but the wisps of what could have been.
No.
Perhaps Altaïr could have felt something more had it not been clear that Adha was not interested in him.
She looked at him like he was a long-lost friend.
Not as a potential husband.
Then she told him that she had met Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
“My father and his parents plan for us to marry.”
Altaïr should probably be offended.
He should be mad at Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad for taking Adha away.
But Adha was never his in the first place.
Altaïr had no right to be offended.
The awkwardness of their conversation right now showed just how little they know of each other.
He cared for Adha because she had been close to him when they were children and she cared for him the same way.
But all he felt had been surprised by the ‘coincidence’ of Adha being betrothed to Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
“What is he like?”
He knew Adha was surprised by the question.
Did she expect him to care more about her betrothal?
Did she expect him to grow angry over a betrothal that never truly come to pass in the first place?
He had hoped she wouldn’t be angry by his lack of reaction.
And his hope was granted when she didn’t get angry at him at all.
But Altaïr was left confused when she laughed.
It was a light laugh. Her lips curved into a smile and Altaïr could tell there was a possibility that he would grow fond of her smile had they spent more time together.
“When I heard the Assassins talk about how you always listen to any rumors about Desmond, I thought the same as them.” Adha admitted with a smile, “That you saw him as a rival and you were listening for any information that would help you defeat him.”
A rival…
Altaïr had never thought of Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad as a rival.
Why would he?
“But you don’t see him like a rival, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t.”
“He’s not your brother, Altaïr.”
Altaïr stared at Adha. He could not think of anything to say when he saw Adha’s expression. She looked sad.
… like she was pitying him.
“He and my uncle made it clear that he’s not Uncle Umar’s son.” Adha placed a gentle hand on Altaïr’s arm, “I’m sorry.”
Her pity was wasted on him.
But he knew enough to know it would be rude to say such a thing.
“It’s alright.” Altaïr said instead.
“I never expected anything.”
Altaïr wondered if it was clear to everyone else what he truly felt about Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
No.
Had it been easy to see, this ridiculous rumor of him thinking of Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad as a rival would never even see the light of day.
Adha saw the truth because of their past.
He remembered he admitted to her that he wanted to have a younger sibling before.
She knew he had always longed for a family.
And the more he heard of how Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad looked a lot like him, the more he wondered if perhaps they were truly brothers.
It was always a passing thought that he tried to ignore the moment it passed his mind.
The idea that his father could have had a tryst with someone else was something he could never accept. That he would muddle his mother’s memories…
No.
Umar Ibn-La'Ahad would have never done that.
He had seen the grief in his father’s face whenever he thought Altaïr was already asleep.
How he would whisper what had happened during the day late at night, as if he was talking to someone Altaïr could not see.
He was talking to some kind of book.
After his execution in the Saracen camp, in front of everyone including Altaïr, his body was returned to the keep. That book was pressed between his belt and sash and Al Mualim gave it to Altaïr with the rest of his things.
It was a small journal filled with Christian prayers, written in two distinct handwriting.
He recognized his father’s handwriting.
The other handwriting though…
It must have belonged to his mother.
So Altaïr couldn’t bring himself to believe his father would betray his mother’s memories like that. He had been grieving for his mother for so long that, sometimes, Altaïr wondered if his father would have been happier had he died instead of his mother.
His mother had been irreplaceable, leaving a hollowness in his father’s heart after her death.
But what if Altaïr had died in his mother’s place?
They would mourn for a child they lost but they would move on, try again or take in a child with no parents of their own.
Altaïr was the replaceable one.
Even now, he knew that Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad could replace him.
He was more special than Altaïr after all.
It didn’t matter if he continued to persist and dragged his body to its limit, he will always fail to be as special as Al Mualim believe him to be.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad was the child Al Mualim should have had.
So he didn’t think of Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad as a long lost brother but he knew they were related in some way.
Related enough for them to be considered family…
And then he met Vega.
Vega glowed gold and blue in his Sight.
He had never seen it before.
The grey world had always been filled with blue and red, the occasional gold appearing here and there.
Gold would mean he was important.
Perhaps he was connected to Altaïr’s target, perhaps he was the target…
Had it not been for the swirls of blue all around his form, Altaïr would have thought he was connected to Raymond or someone important in Tiberias.
Altaïr wasn’t sure what had compelled him to see such a hue for a stranger but his Sight had never failed him before.
And Vega…
Vega was a man full of contradiction.
He looked like he was trying to keep a distance between them yet his instincts would lead him to come closer, would lead him to touch Altaïr every so often.
Altaïr wanted to know why.
So he deliberately closed the distance.
He always left it to Vega to move away if he wished.
Altaïr had no plans to hold him there.
He was simply curious why an Assassin from Alamut seemed to both wish to be far away from him and to be near him at the same time.
And…
He was warm.
His hand was warm against Altaïr’s cheek.
Back then, Vega had touched him instinctively.
And his eyes made Altaïr’s heart beat faster.
Like all he was seeing was Altaïr.
Like all that mattered was Altaïr.
Altaïr was not a good man.
He was a selfish man.
He tried to push it away, tried to focus on how an Assassin should act but there were times when his selfishness would creep pass the walls he had created.
And Vega left a warmth in him that shrouded the numbness and cold he felt for a while before being snuffed out by the reality that Altaïr lived in.
Sometimes, if he focused on remembering Vega and the short time they spent together, he would feel a ghost of that warmth.
It left him wanting more.
Wanting to feel his touch once more…
Wanting to feel his eyes focused on him once more…
Brown like honey with specks of gold when the sunlight kisses his eyes…
They were warm.
The color itself and the gaze Vega would have.
Altaïr was a selfish man.
He was not a good man.
Had he been good, he would have realized how rude he had been, asking for a different man when Vega was right there in front of him before Vega had to tell it to him directly.
He tried to rectify that mistake by asking the Assassins pretending to be merchants about Vega but they looked at him with distrusting eyes.
Altaïr knew it was because of his close connection with Al Mualim.
Vega had been clear about how he felt about Al Mualim and it wouldn’t be surprising if that was how majority of Alamut felt about his master.
So he didn’t push and simply went to someone who could give him an idea of what Alamut was like.
Talking to Faheem Al-Sayf had been a waste of time. He only remembered Alamut as it was before he left. He held no information about Alamut as it was now nor anything about Vega.
It was a waste of time hearing about his father’s life in Alamut as well.
Why did it matter?
His father was dead.
Altaïr could not afford to be comforted by stories of him.
His place was in the present, standing behind Al Mualim and doing what was required of him.
The warmth he felt listening to Faheem talk about his father was a fleeting comfort.
It only made Altaïr realize that, no matter how annoyed Faheem sounded when he talked about his father, the older man also missed his old friend.
It made Altaïr wonder… when he dies…
Would Malik talk about him like that as well?
Malik Al-Sayf held everyone to the same standard he was upholding himself. It made him a formidable Assassin, a good instructor, and an annoying brother-in-arms.
Malik had never missed a day in their training to berate Altaïr and his actions.
“Keep an eye on your allies as well, Altaïr. You can’t do everything.”
“You need to work on what words to use when you’re talking to someone, Altaïr.”
Malik’s complaints could fill an entire journal.
Abbas had defended Altaïr back then, saying that Malik was simply jealous of Altaïr’s skills.
But now…
Malik never failed to tell him that he should slow down.
To take a breath and rest.
Altaïr didn’t understand why Malik had changed his tune.
He didn’t care to understand.
He was too busy training to care.
Unlike his brother, Kadar understood that trying to get Altaïr to stop was useless. Instead, Kadar would ask him for help.
Help in his training, help with his form…
Sometimes, he would ask Altaïr to help him eat all the food the villagers had given him, begging Altaïr to eat with him because there was simply too much.
Altaïr knew that the villagers were using Kadar to ‘feed’ him. Kadar was a quick study when it comes to the skills necessary to be an Assassin but he still became flustered whenever Altaïr would tell him that he could just share those with his fellow recruits, making excuses for them that ranges from believable to ridiculous.
Altaïr didn’t mind.
Kadar and the villagers were trying to help him. It wouldn’t hurt if he accepted their help.
His days were always more relaxing when he was indulging Kadar’s antics.
Sometimes, Altaïr wondered if this was what it would be like if he had a younger brother.
In the Brotherhood, Kadar was probably the closest to him and Altaïr never bothered to push the younger Al-Sayf away. Abbas wouldn’t dare target Kadar, not when Faheem was in the council.
But then Faheem was sent to Alamut and Altaïr saw him once more.
His golden glow brought warmth in Altaïr that he cannot explain.
He had wanted to rush towards him, to touch him.
To feel his warmth.
But he stayed his hand.
He remained on top of the tower as he and his fellow Assassins enter the keep.
When he saw Vega look around Al Mualim’s private office, Altaïr knew that he had been sent there not to escort Faheem but to look for information that might be helpful against Al Mualim.
It was his duty to stop Vega.
But he didn’t do anything.
Even when Vega stayed there for quite a long time.
Altaïr didn’t do anything.
He didn’t feel anything even when he was betraying the man who raised him after his father’s death.
If Al Mualim was as wise as everyone thought, he would know that someone had been in his office.
So when Vega finally left Al Mualim’s private office, Altaïr slipped inside and made sure everything was as it had been the last time he was there.
He didn’t have to do anything.
Nothing looked out of place.
Even his Eagle Vision didn’t see anything.
Vega was good.
Too good to simply be just another Assassin in Alamut.
Altaïr confronted him.
Or he tried to.
But their conversation derailed soon enough and Altaïr was left at the mercy of Vega’s eyes.
Did he know that it was easy for Altaïr to know he was smiling because he would see the lines next to his eyes?
Did he know the power he held when he touched Altaïr?
Altaïr wanted to stay close to him.
He wanted to feel his warmth.
He wanted…
Altaïr wanted a lot of things.
And he was not oblivious. He knew how it looked to Kadar and Vega’s fellow Assassin when they saw them in that dark alcove.
He couldn’t help himself.
Vega had tried to pull away but it was half-hearted at best. His “Please?” had sounded both as a plea for Altaïr to let go and for him to step closer.
So he did.
He whispered his farewells.
Because he wanted those eyes to focus on him for just a few more moments.
He wanted to feel his warmth for a few more moments.
Before he let go.
Just as Vega wished.
Aquila was a peculiar child.
The first time they met, Altaïr saw him as a spoiled child.
On their second meeting, Altaïr tried to use him to send a hastily written message to Vega. It was nothing special. He had just written how he hoped Desmond would have a safe travel and that he would be waiting for the day they meet once more.
He thought he could bribe Aquila to send it to him by giving him dry meats.
Then the child had the audacity to extort him.
These were meant for Maud so…
He lied.
He told the child that this was all he had.
Which was true.
The dry meat in his pouch was all he had with him.
He had a few more back in his room from the rabbit that Maud had killed the last time he saw her.
He wasn’t going to give in to the demands of a spoiled child. They were Maud’s dry meats. He was already risking her wrath by giving Aquila one.
Maud was an intelligent woman.
She knew how to count.
He expected that trying to coax Aquila would be a waste of time, he looked like a stubborn bird. That was why he had been planning to get off the tower when Aquila stopped him.
Aquila willingly helped him without asking for anything.
That was how Altaïr realized that Vega had raised Aquila.
So even if he was a spoiled child…
He was a good child.
Which only made Altaïr curious why Maud attacked him before.
Maud…
She found him while he had been on a mission. At first he didn’t pay attention to her, focusing on his mission.
But she kept staring.
Kept following him from above.
The Rafiq of Damascus saw Altaïr staring at the eagle in the middle of the night and asked if he was feeling sick.
After he got over the sight of Altaïr staring at an eagle without blinking, he told him of a story.
How Assassins from long ago would have eagle companions. Altaïr saw Maud twitch and…
That was how Altaïr realized that Maud could understand him.
He thought Maud was special. He gave her dry meat he had purchased with whatever was left from the traveling funds he would be given. She only took one every time they meet and would always bring an animal she had taken down to him.
Altaïr realized it was her way of saying that she owed him nothing for feeding her.
She was independent.
She didn’t need Altaïr.
If anything, she was humoring Altaïr by visiting him and staying with him whenever he left Masyaf.
Sometimes, he wondered if the reason why Maud never stayed in Masyaf was because of the name he gave her.
He had named her after his dead mother, after all.
And her mother had died here in Masyaf.
It was ridiculous.
Maud was humoring him.
One day, she will leave him.
Kadar had provided him the perfect way to stay in contact with Vega. He seemed to believe that the two of them had some kind of forbidden love going on.
Altaïr never bothered to correct him.
There was nothing to correct.
Love.
Yes.
What Altaïr felt for him was probably love.
Or something similar to it.
Or something that could have been love, corrupted by Altaïr’s selfishness.
After a few letters from Faheem that Kadar let Altaïr read…
He figured it out.
He knew who Vega truly was.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
It was truly forbidden love, wasn’t it?
They were probably related in some way.
His feelings for Vega…
No.
For Desmond…
It was forbidden.
The more they wrote to one another, the more he learned of what Desmond liked and his life in Alamut…
The more he desired him.
His gaze.
His touch.
His warmth.
The memory of his eyes and his touch warmed his bed from the cold.
He desired Desmond.
And he wanted Desmond to feel the same.
So he asked Kadar how to court someone.
He was the only person Altaïr could trust to answer him and would keep it a secret.
Unfortunately, Kadar did not have any experience in courting someone, had never even thought about it.
“Have you tried giving him gifts? I hear gifts are required when you court a woma- I mean someone! I’m sure anyone would like receiving gifts!”
Gifts.
Altaïr supposed he could use the bride price his father had left him.
The bride price that was meant to be given to Adha’s father.
It would be ironic to use it to court the man Adha would be betrothed to.
But he wanted to give it to Desmond once they were together. It would be rude to use the bride price to buy courting gifts.
It showed that Altaïr had no means to spoil Desmond with his own funds.
But he didn’t have that much on his own.
The Brotherhood only gave enough for traveling expenses and the bureaus took care of all their food and lodging outside of Masyaf.
What little funds Altaïr had, he used to buy dried meats for Maud.
That was how he thought about the flowers he saw during his travels.
They were simply there, blooming and withering without a care in the world.
He picked the red ones, remembering Desmond said red was his favorite color.
But they would soon die.
Altaïr didn’t want to give Desmond such a morbid gift.
Kadar was the one who suggested he dried them, having seen the women of Paradise dry flowers they receive from Assassins they fancy. Altaïr ignored Kadar’s hasty excuse that he only knew about it because he would be the one to usually deliver boxes of food to them before backtracking that he had been in Paradise to lay with the Flowers a lot, soooo many times!
The first batch of flowers he tried to dry was a failure as both he and Kadar had no real information how to dry flowers.
The second batch dried good enough thanks to Kadar asking the Flowers how they dry their flowers.
The third batch was the one he sent to Desmond though, as he had not been satisfied by the second batch’s ‘good enough’ dryness.
Their letters continued and Altaïr treasured every single one, keeping them underneath the bride price that his father had left, hidden beneath the floorboard, covered by Altaïr’s cot. Altaïr found the flowers that reminded him of the color of Desmond’s shemagh in Al-Yaman while he was on a scouting mission. He figured that gifting Desmond seeds instead of dried petals would be a better gift. Dried petals were nice but flowers that would continue to bloom for as long as Desmond cared for them…
They appealed to Altaïr’s selfishness.
Desmond was kind. He would care for the flowers because they were a gift and they would constantly remind him of Altaïr.
They would become a part of Alamut, of Desmond’s daily life.
It was a selfish desire and Altaïr didn’t stop himself.
There was a merchant who agreed to give him seeds of that specific red flowers if Altaïr was to help him for a few days. Altaïr didn’t mind. His scouting mission was already finished and the Rafiq he was to report to was in a bureau 2 days away from Al-Yaman. He could just say his scouting mission took longer than he expected.
No one would question him.
Not when he was now a Master Assassin.
His heart skipped a beat when Al Mualim told him that he was to accompany Al Mualim to Alamut. Al Mualim had received an invitation to a celebration of some sort and he assumed that ʾAʿlā Muḥammad would be officially adopting Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
He wanted Altaïr with him to show Alamut how strong Masyaf was.
They had the youngest Master Assassin in history with them, after all.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad hasn’t rose from his rank of novice since he was initiated, after all. Al Mualim believed it was because he was already being trained as a successor.
Altaïr knew the truth.
He was sure Desmond deliberately didn’t want to raise the rank of ‘Desmond’ because ‘Vega’ was the Assassin wearing the robes of a Master Assassin, not ‘Desmond’.
Altaïr didn’t share his thoughts though, simply bowing as he agreed to Al Mualim’s plans. The timing couldn’t have been better. He had been planning to send the box with the seeds and a smooth rock that he found on the road and painted himself with the next letter that he was going to send to Desmond. Kadar had been ready to send another one of Faheem’s junks that he left in their home to hide Altaïr’s gift just to help him.
Kadar didn’t seemed all that offended that all his hard work was for naught, saying goodbye to Altaïr with a bright smile.
He knew Al Mualim had plans. There was no way he would travel to Alamut just to congratulate the imam and Desmond.
It didn’t matter.
What mattered was that Altaïr saw him for the first time without his shemagh.
He didn’t see the similarities between them.
Desmond was beautiful.
The fond smile he gave his little brother was full of love.
He was nothing like Altaïr.
Altaïr was not jealous.
He didn’t want to be seen as a brother.
He wanted Desmond to desire him.
He wanted Desmond to feel the same way as he did.
Yes.
They share no similarities at all.
Did Desmond’s attempts to hurt him succeed?
No.
He could see the pain in Desmond’s eyes.
His words had been filled with venom when he had been talking to Al Mualim.
But when he directed his words to Altaïr.
He heard the warmth in his voice when he congratulated him.
The warmth disappeared when he started to lie.
His voice held no warmth as he lied word for word in front of Al Mualim.
His smile was empty.
Altaïr wondered if he was simply seeing what he wanted to see.
It didn’t matter.
Even if Desmond saw him as Al Mualim’s attack dog.
That only meant he knew Altaïr was useful.
He could use that.
“Go to him, my boy.”
Altaïr turned to stare at Al Mualim.
“I am sure you wish to confront your brother.”
Altaïr continued to stare at Al Mualim.
He still believed that Desmond was his half-brother.
It didn’t matter if he truly was.
What Altaïr wanted from him was not the love one has for a family.
But he would be lying if he was to say he did not wish to have a family with Desmond.
Seeing how Desmond act around Aquila and with his younger brother…
He would be a good father.
Much better than Altaïr could ever be.
“Go, Altaïr.”
Al Mualim’s hand on his shoulder felt like a brand.
“Talk to your brother. Make him understand…” Al Mualim squeezed his shoulder as he said, “Family should be together.”
Was it not him who ordered that Faheem be sent away from his sons?
What a hypocrite.
Still…
“Yes, master.”
Altaïr was selfish enough to use Al Mualim’s misunderstanding to his advantage.
“Were you unable to persuade your brother?”
That was the first thing Al Mualim said to him when he returned just as they were about to depart for Masyaf.
Persuade him?
Altaïr knew he could have persuaded Desmond there and then.
He could have pushed him into that tempting mountain of pillows of his and Desmond wouldn’t have stopped him.
He had seen the way Desmond stared back at him when Altaïr had come closer than he had ever tried.
… saw the way his eyes flickered to Altaïr’s lips more than once.
He knew he could press his lips against Desmond’s and he wouldn’t push him away.
He knew Desmond would have crumbled and accepted him had he stayed and pushed even further.
But he also knew that Desmond was telling the truth when he used the word ‘can’t’.
If Altaïr had stayed…
He would have gotten what he wanted.
But he would have pushed Desmond too far, would have hurt him in the process.
So Altaïr backed away.
Because as much as he wanted Desmond’s warmth… he had fallen in love with his smile.
He didn’t want to risk it.
Thirty years.
It was a long time.
But if it meant finally being allowed to be with Desmond for the rest of his life…
Then Altaïr was willing to wait.
“He isn’t my brother.”
Al Mualim sighed, misunderstanding the vehemence in Altaïr’s tone. None of the Assassins with them looked at Altaïr and he knew they believed he and Desmond had fought.
That Altaïr had said it because he hated Desmond.
But it was the opposite.
They weren’t brothers.
Regardless of whatever blood relation they shared…
Altaïr didn’t care.
The relationship he wanted to have with Desmond was not a familial one.
And Altaïr was not a good person.
He didn’t push because he didn’t want to break Desmond.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to chip away whatever was stopping Desmond from accepting him.
Thirty years was a long time but Altaïr was stubborn enough to find ways to lessen that sentence.
As they travel back to Masyaf, Altaïr’s thoughts wandered and…
A dark thought formed in his mind.
How many years would be chipped away if he presented the imam Al Mualim’s head?
After all, an attack dog like him can only have a new master if his current master dies, right?
It was a foolish thought.
No one would want an attack dog that bit its own master.
That was the kind of rabid dog that would be killed to protect everyone else.
Time passed.
Al Mualim continued to live.
Altaïr continued to write to Desmond.
And Desmond never sent a reply back.
Kadar was worried but he kept quiet because he trusted Altaïr when he said it was fine.
And it was fine.
Altaïr knew there would be consequences to his actions.
He had been more surprised when Faheem wrote “the red hibiscus bloomed this year thanks to the diligent care of their owner” in his last letter to Kadar. Kadar knew it was about the gift Altaïr had given Desmond and had been very excited to show the letter to Altaïr. Altaïr had assumed Faheem wouldn’t want to get in the middle of Altaïr and Desmond’s relationship.
Still…
It warmed Altaïr knowing Desmond cared for the flowers.
He had been sent on a mission in Orhay as Al Mualim received word that there might have been crusader movements around those parts. Altaïr found no evidence of it but continued to look for a few more days to be sure. The most he had found was a merchant who had been selling goods at such high prices, trying to defend the prices by talking about how dangerous the roads were nowadays. Altaïr received no orders to take care of that problem so he left Orhay.
He hoped to be given the chance to return to Masyaf so he can give the letter he had written to Kadar before the Assassins from Alamut come to get the monthly reports from Al Mualim so he left as quickly as he could once he received the order to return.
He had been on his way to Ḥalab, the nearest Assassin stronghold where he was ordered to return to after his mission, having just passed a settlement that had locked its gates (which was a bit strange), when he saw the smoke and flames in the distance.
He knew exactly what was burning…
The village before the citadel of Ḥalab.
He rode towards the village, ready to help in dousing the flames. He was momentarily surprised when he saw an Assassin fighting three crusaders all on his own. His movements were sluggish and he was breathing heavily, coughing once in a while most probably because of the smoke all around them.
Altaïr didn’t think, he charged the crusaders, throwing one knife straight between the eyes of the one about to attack the Assassin. He jumped off his horse, dropping on top of the one of the remaining crusader as he threw another knife at the other one. He tried to block Altaïr’s knife but it pierced the small opening on his shoulder and the Assassin took that time to thrust his sword at the crusader’s back, falling on top of him as he pulled his sword out and thrusting it down the crusader’s neck.
Altaïr quickly plunged his own sword straight down the man underneath him, piercing his neck. Altaïr pulled his sword out and stepped back, flicking the sword to swipe the blood off before sheathing it again.
The Assassin was still coughing and Altaïr quickly walked towards him, grabbing his arm and resting it over his shoulder as he helped the Assassin get away from the smokes.
“Thank you, Altaïr.” The Assassin croaked, making Altaïr nod at him. There was no need to introduce one another. Altaïr had seen him patrolling Ḥalab before. He was one of the Masyaf’s Assassins, three to four years older than Altaïr himself.
“What happened?” Altaïr asked calmly as he helped the Assassin rest on a nearby tree, far enough from the smoke but near enough that Altaïr could return to the village after making sure the Assassin was safe to help anyone still in the burning village.
“The crusaders were following one of ours. They burned the entire village to make sure no one got out.” The Assassin growled before coughing, “He’s still there. He was helping the villagers-”
His words were cut off when he coughed once more.
“I’ll look for him.” Altaïr said, “Rest, brother. I will find him.”
“You have to find him alive, Altaïr.” The Assassin said, “The crusaders want the information he has.”
“What information?” Altaïr frowned.
The Assassin coughed before saying, “They say he knows the location of the ‘Chalice’.”
Notes:
To those who wanted an Altaïr POV of Altaïr being given all of Aquila’s dry meat, I couldn’t include it ‘cause I thought it would break the flow of this ‘half-disjointed’ narration. But hey, at least I managed to squeeze in both Aquila and Maud in Altaïr’s POV somewhere else (thank Knine_Nights for that one XD)
Chapter 49
Notes:
This chapter is unbeta'ed due to RL reasons XD
Chapter Text
Hunting should be relaxing.
… for Desmond.
The recruits trying not to panic because the next mentor was supervising them and having the wrong idea that this was meant to be some kind of test (no matter how many times Desmond told them it wasn’t) didn’t have to find this relaxing.
But the other Assassin with him who was there to supervise the recruits should not look like he was grieving the loss of the love of his life.
“Still having writer’s block?” Desmond asked lightly, showing zero sympathy at the dark clouds all around Peredur.
Peredur draped his arm around Desmond’s shoulder and leaned his entire body weight against his side as he bemoaned, “I’m a failure, Desmond!”
Desmond didn’t even budge from where he was standing, watching the recruits whisper to one another as they stand around Peredur’s kill. It was a clean kill, not that Desmond was surprised.
Peredur may be suffering from the current state of his career as a writer but he was an Assassin from Desmond’s batch. He knew how to compartmentalize.
It just so happened that the recruits were giving him a chance to get roped back into his ‘dark’ thoughts and they were in the forest near the castle so he knew he was in a relatively safe area.
Desmond was sure Peredur felt safer because he was with him.
Desmond should probably change the ‘schedule’ for next year’s hunt. Morning’s hunt was always Desmond and his fellow supervisor showing how to track and take down their target then Desmond would show them how to skin and prepare the meat that they would be using for their meal using his kill.
The other kill will be for the recruits to have a first hand experience in how to do it themselves by choosing a representative that Desmond would then guide. This meat will be added to their meal as well so they couldn’t even start cooking until this activity was done.
Maybe next year, he and the recruit’s representative should prepare the kills at the same time with his fellow supervisor keeping a close eye on the representative.
Or they could hunt one more so there would be two representatives that can try it out at the same time?
No.
Two kills were the right amount for their meal.
… plus a sizable portion for Aquila to eat and would later be part of his dry meat stash.
Anything more would just go to waste even if he was to make Aquila’s portion larger and prepare the remaining to be dried for the eagle.
Desmond’s lips curved as his eyes went to Aquila, already guarding the meat exclusively for him. He normally liked dry meat more but Aquila always enjoyed fresh meat in times like these. Desmond assumed it was like a special occasion for Aquila or something similar to a child being given a meal from a restaurant they only go to once a year. He wouldn’t eat yet though because he’d wait for Desmond to eat. And the eagle looked like he was a feather away from screeching at the recruits to hurry up and pick a representative already.
Desmond whistled softly, catching Aquila’s attention. Aquila turned to look at him, perking up when he saw Desmond take out a small piece of dry meat. Desmond threw it at Aquila who easily caught it in the air before returning to his fresh meat and eating it on top.
That should be enough to satisfy him until they could finally eat.
Desmond turned his attention back at the recruits.
Right now, it seemed like the recruits were unsure of who they would choose to be the representative and were having a furious debate over it.
Which meant Desmond was bored enough to try and console Peredur…
“Your book wasn’t a failure. I heard it sold quite well, considering the cost of printing it…” Desmond’s smile grew as he remembered the veins about to pop from Faheem’s forehead when he talked about the price they had to pay for the process and the number of sheets he had to go through that showed its profitability after they started to sell it around the routes regularly used by the merchants, “… especially considering we had to get into contact with the Chinese merchants just to get the proper equipment-”
“I get it, I get it! But still!” Peredur covered his face with his free hand, “The reviews were awful!”
Desmond continued to smile.
Honestly? He had been more worried that people would want to burn Peredur alive for ‘hinting’ that the real romantic pairing was his character and Altaïr’s character.
But noooo.
The readers ripped the book apart because of the ending.
Or…
The ‘lack’ of an ending.
Peredur’s earlier books all had endings with a conclusion to the main conflict of the book’s plot. Sure, there were ongoing themes and stuff (Desmond wasn’t sure because he didn’t read the entire thing but Khalid assured him there was) but each book could be read as a standalone adventure story with the same male lead.
However, Peredur had left the latest book in a cliffhanger and the readers were not happy about that. It didn’t help that the readers were those who could read or could pay someone to read it to them which meant that they were people who had the means to write and send their ‘feelings’ to Alamut. Most of them were also people in high places and it was just a rumor but there were apparently unofficial translations and play adaptions in the wild.
This meant that the books were slowly reaching other places… which only meant that more people were sending ‘passionate’ letters to Peredur’s pseudonym in Alamut.
All because of the cliffhanger ending…
Desmond was sure it was because they weren’t used to reading cliffhangers.
Desmond was also sure that he might have incidentally inspired Peredur to end it in a cliffhanger, either… because of how ‘slow’ his relationship with Altaïr was progressing (not that it was progressing!) or because Desmond was certain he had told them one or two stories while they were recruits that he ended with a ‘to be continued’ for some reason (probably because they actually had tasks to take care of back then and he needed to stop).
But it wasn’t like Desmond could say anything to cheer Peredur up. It would be half-hearted at best since Peredur was still writing about him and he risked the possibility of making Peredur’s writer block even worse by saying the wrong thing. He didn’t even know what to say anyway so he was really glad when the recruits all turned to face him and one stepped forward as he announced, “I-I will be our representative!”
Desmond patted Peredur’s back and his friend immediately straightened, the grief on his face replaced by a calmer expression to support Desmond’s friendly smile.
“Great!” Desmond walked towards the recruits as he said, “Then let’s begin.”
The hunt was just as successful as it was last year. The townspeople below Alamut were already waiting to welcome them back when they returned just as the sun was setting and even took the time to thank the recruits while taking their portion of this year’s kill. A lot of the recruits apologized for the crude cuts but the townspeople simply laughed and reminded them that they did good for their first time. Desmond watched them with a soft smile and even talked to the townspeople who approached him to compliment this year’s batch and joking with him about letting the meat he had prepared be given to them instead of the castle. It was all in good fun and the easy way the townspeople approached him made Desmond think about Monteriggioni. But this was his people, not Ezio’s, but his…
When they finally made their way back to the castle, the chef looked ready to kiss Desmond on both cheeks when he saw the meat prepared just for the people of the castle.
He left the recruits with a few final words, mostly suggestions on how to improve their hunting skills and a few words of encouragement. Peredur knew him enough to take over and take the recruits to the dining hall for a piece of bread and water before dinner, something to tide them over while the kitchen prepares dinner with the meat from Desmond’s kill.
Desmond wouldn’t have mind joining them but he wanted to see if he could catch Adha in the mentor’s tower and maybe listen in to whatever she and his father were talking about.
A part of him wondered if it was about Altaïr.
“Adha? She has not come to visit me at all.”
“What?”
Diya al-Dīn’s brows furrowed as he added, “I haven’t received any reports that Adha was even in Alamut.”
Desmond quietly watched him as he placed the report he had been looking at on the table before he asked in a slightly worried tone, staring at his son from across his desk where he stood, “Are you sure you saw her? I know you were awake late last night preparing this month’s report-”
“I’m sure.” Desmond cut him off, rubbing the back of his neck as he added, “And I slept fine, thanks. It’s just a summary of what has happened in Alamut last month. I’ve been dealing with the reports for a while now-”
Desmond shook his head as he stopped himself, “That’s not important right now.”
He ignored his father’s mumble of ‘your health is more important than some report…’ and placed a hand on Diya al-Dīn’s table as he continued, “I’m sure I saw her.”
Diya al-Dīn’s brows furrowed even deeper and the concern was clear in his expression. Desmond sighed as he reiterated, “I didn’t imagine her.”
“I believe you.”
Desmond blinked.
“Even if you didn’t sleep all that well last night, a single night wouldn’t be enough to impair your senses to the point that you wouldn’t understand the difference between reality and dream. Also, you wouldn’t be this adamant unless you’re completely sure. But…” Diya al-Dīn’s concern stayed on his face as he said, “If you did see Adha use the hidden passageways, then there’s a possibility she used one to enter Alamut.”
Desmond’s eyes widened.
Diya al-Dīn was right.
The hidden passageways would lead deeper into secret tunnels that extended all over Alamut, not just the castle. That was why the mentors were able to meet with Desmond when he agreed to play their ‘little game’ back then. And tunnels were meant to have an exit. Multiple exits in the case of the tunnels in Alamut, some of which lead out of the mountain itself. They were meant to be used as emergency escape routes as well as a way to infiltrate the castle in case it was taken over.
But…
“Why would Adha know them?” Desmond asked.
As far as Desmond knew, the only people who knew about the secret tunnels were him and his parents. They haven’t even showed it to Jalāl yet because he was still at that stage where he showed everything he learned to everyone he knew.
“Adha’s father, Rekem, is a descendant of a Hidden One that stayed here in Alamut. Their father taught them the general layout of the secret tunnels when they were little as part of their family’s tradition.” Diya al-Dīn explained, “He and Raiza used to play in the secret tunnels when they were children.”
“Then her father taught her the secret tunnels?” Desmond asked with a frown.
Well, there was his confirmation of Adha’s relationship with his parents. She was Raiza’s niece which meant that she was, technically, Desmond’s cousin.
Thankfully, Diya al-Dīn continued before Desmond could dwell too deeply over the whole ‘his maybe-fiancee is a ‘family member’ part’ of this whole thing, “Adha wouldn’t have been able to walk those tunnels enough times to be familiar with them so even if he did teach her the route she should take…”
“I might have saw her briefly because she took a wrong turn and exited the tunnels.” Desmond realized, “Even with a lamp, those tunnels are confusing as hell.”
It made sense.
Adha must have used the tunnels because she didn’t want anyone to see her enter Alamut.
But why?
No.
More importantly…
Where was she now?
Desmond froze.
There was one answer that he hoped wasn’t the right one but…
“Is it… is it possible she got lost?” Desmond asked, unable to stop himself from speaking a little quicker than usual, “I saw her this morning but if she didn’t go to you and we haven’t received any word of her location then…”
“She might still be in the tunnels. Maybe she turned the wrong way and…” Diya al-Dīn stood as he said, “We need to be sure. I will go to the harem and tell my wives about Adha so we can all search for her. You go and start without us. Use your Sight to try and find her using the last location we know she took. We’ll split up and cover the other entrances.”
“Got it.” Desmond nodded and turned around. Before he could even take a step, Diya al-Dīn stopped him.
“Desmond. Light the torches on your way so we know where you’re going. Each time you turn-”
“Leave the right mark.” Desmond finished, knowing already what to do. Raiza had took him to the tunnels every so often when he had been a recruit and taught him the usual marks they would make on the walls to record their ‘paths’.
“Be careful.” Diya al-Dīn said and Desmond nodded as he grinned.
“I’m always careful.”
Adha’s last known location was near the thermae and there was only one entrance nearby that would lead to the secret tunnels.
The very same entrance that became Desmond’s ‘introduction’ to the tunnels underneath Alamut.
He crouched next to the flowing water with the false bottom and used one hand to flip the false bottom up while taking out the key around his neck with his other hand. The Isu script for ‘Sacred Voice’ seemingly mocked him as he put it in the keyhole and turned it to the left.
He heard the gears turning louder this time thanks to his enhanced sense of hearing. He was sure it was still almost inaudible to most but, if Desmond knew where the hell those gears were, he’d have oiled them up already.
He took back the key and wore it around his neck once more. He flipped the false bottom back down before walking towards the nearest wall, covered slightly by shrubbery. He parted the shrubbery and casually jumped down the small opening.
He reached the bottom by the time the opening slid close once more and he landed on a pile of hay.
Desmond stayed there as he took a deep breath at the same time he closed his eyes. He opened his eyes as he exhaled, shrouding the darkness with the gray of the Eagle Vision.
He could smell something foreign on the hay underneath him.
It smelled nice.
Not offensive and subtle…
Something someone would only smell if they were close to the origin.
A perfume of some kind?
Perhaps a kind of scented oil?
None of the mentors use perfume or scented oil. Because they would sometimes pretend to be Assassins, using such things would bring scrutiny to them while they were outside.
But it was thanks to the scent that Desmond could find Adha’s tracks.
It was a dim wisp of gold that left the room that he was in, not like the more noticeable golden traces that Ezio saw back in Constantinople.
It meant the scent was faint.
Whatever it was that Adha used it was meant to be subtle.
In some way…
Something an Assassin working undercover would use.
Desmond wondered…
If it was possible for a woman to be an Assassin, would Adha have been given the choice to be one as well?
Would he had met her back when he had been a recruit? Maybe even join the same batch as him?
Desmond wasn’t sure why he was being melancholy all of a sudden.
The best guess he could make was that the scent she left behind triggered this sudden bout of melancholy…
Perhaps a minor side effect from what remains of his Bleed.
It would be a waste of time to dwell in what ifs though.
It was more important to find Adha.
The tunnels had torches left unlit. From the stories Raiza shared while she showed Desmond the tunnels, they had been left there by the Hidden Ones.
They weren’t meant to light the tunnels.
They were meant to show if someone who did not know how Hidden Ones must use the tunnels had used them or…
To leave a trail.
After all, for a Hidden One (and for the Assassins who knew about the tunnels), there was no need to light the torches. Their Sight should be enough to show their surroundings.
And, each corner, there were marks left by people before them.
One mark would be a specific symbol that only those who uses the tunnel would know with two additional information. Desmond’s symbol was a triangle with three diagonal slashes on the left side. Underneath the symbol, the additional information was the date etched under his symbol using his dagger and the etched symbol for ‘right’ in the middle of the triangle.
Above Desmond’s mark, there were four other marks.
The dates of those marks were around a hundred years old.
Raiza wasn’t sure who made those marks but the last mark before Desmond were around the same year that Hassan-i Sabbah became the ruler of Alamut.
There were so many things they didn’t know. Records destroyed or never written down…
Desmond wasn’t even sure if what they knew about the Hidden Ones were all true or if they had been believing in bedtime stories, created to give a brighter past to an organization shrouded in darkness.
How was that any different from what the Brotherhood would be later in the future?
The future…
Desmond hadn’t really thought about his time for quite a while now.
He had been so focused on this time.
On keeping the timeline as it should be.
But that was a lie, wasn’t it?
Desmond wasn’t focused in the present because he had to keep the timeline as it should be.
He was focused on the present because of the many joyful memories he had received since he returned to the past.
He was focused on the present because this was still a time when Altaïr’s eyes were still on him.
Next year…
Once he meets Maria Thorpe…
Desmond would be nothing but the past to Altaïr…
He found Adha after twenty minutes of walking. Deeper than he had ever been in the tunnels before.
There were no torches at all.
Her scent led him to a hole that led to a lower floor he didn’t even know existed. The walls were old with cracks all over that Desmond had been worried that the walls and ceiling would cave in while he was searching for her.
He had left a mark in front of the hole just to be sure.
He was sure his parents would find him. Even if they didn’t, he could connect to Aquila and guide them here.
It didn’t take long for him to find Adha after jumping down the hole. She was a few meters to the right of where he had dropped down, at the end of the tunnel, just sitting there, body facing the entrance to another tunnel to the right.
She was resting her head on her knees as she held her legs tight. To her right was a torch that had long lost its flame.
He had heard her soft cries before he even saw her.
Desmond opened his mouth but stopped himself before he said anything. He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around.
The walls were just as cracked as the rest but it should hold for now.
He walked towards Adha and sat next to her before blinking, deactivating his Eagle Vision.
He stayed quiet and waited.
He’d lit Adha’s torch with the flint he had been using once she was ready.
It might have been a minute or so before Adha mumbled, “I’m not crying.”
“Okay.” Desmond agreed immediately.
“And even if I was, it wasn’t because I was lost or because my torch went out.”
“Of course.” Desmond nodded even though she wouldn’t be able to see him anyway.
They were quiet once more but it was less stifling than before.
When was the last time Adha visited Alamut?
Before the Third Crusades officially began…
It seemed so long ago.
Dealing with the surprising news of his parents wanting to adopt him and their wish for him to be betrothed to Adha-
“My father is dead.”
Desmond turned to face her even though the darkness made it hard to see her face.
“We were ambushed by crusaders on our way to Ḥalab.” She continued as her voice trembled slightly, “He… he…”
Desmond placed a hand on her shoulder as her words fell into quiet sobs.
Her sobs grew softer and softer until…
All that was left was the silence of the tunnels once more.
Chapter 50
Notes:
This chapter is not beta’ed due to RL reasons.
Also, this one is split into two POVs for plot reasons and you’ll notice when the shift changes (I hope).
Update (01/29/24): Thank you, jayswing96, for pointing out an error in the narration (her instead of his) :)
Chapter Text
Adha grew up thinking of marriage as something she must do to survive according to her father, the only one who raised her. Her mother died when she was only two years old, from a sickness that had haunted her ever since she gave birth to their only child. Adha had been too young to even remember her but her death had left wounds in her father’s heart that would never heal. Apart from her father, the only living relative she knew of was her aunt, the first wife of the current mentor and imam of Alamut.
She had only met her aunt once, back when her father asked the mentor for them to meet in the harem. It was a short visit that Adha could only summarize as uncomfortable and cold. Her aunt seemed inexperience with dealing with children and had gifted a sharp dagger to a child before said child left.
Her father saw the dagger and simply sighed, telling Adha to never be like her aunt. She never met with her aunt ever again and she wondered if her father made sure of that because he had been worried that she would turn out to be like her aunt.
Adha could never be sure if her father cared for her aunt. All she knew was that her father was worried that she would be a detrimental influence in Adha’s upbringing.
Upbringing…
Adha loved her father but she also knew he had raised her to be a good wife to her future husband first and foremost.
At first, it was to a boy she had only seen a few times as a child.
Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.
He had grown up to be a handsome young man but it was clear that his heart had been captured by someone else. She knew it the moment their eyes met. He saw her as a childhood memory and she held the same feelings.
After all, they had met after Adha already knew that her future betrothed would be someone else.
Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad.
No.
Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III, the first son of the current mentor and imam of Alamut. The future mentor of the Brotherhood…
Being married to him would solidify Adha’s safety and future.
His inclinations meant Adha would not have to be worried about her future child being in a bitter and deadly rivalry with a bastard child nor was there a chance of him taking another wife that might usurp her standing. All she had to do was to be cordial with any male lovers he would take in secret.
All in all, it wasn’t a bad future for her.
She had been worried that his insistence to not be betrothed to her would end with her being betrothed to his little brother instead. The gap between their ages weren’t all that surprising considering she knew women who had to marry someone younger than them but it still made her feel a bit apprehensive. There would come a time when he would still see himself as young but see Adha as old, maybe even ignore her for a younger wife. It was an uncertain future for both Adha and any child she might bear.
However, it seemed like her father and his parents were still deliberating if they would push for her betrothal with Desmond if the coded letters his father would tell her to burn afterwards were any indication. Her father was still pushing for it but the imam was hesitant, telling them that Adha and Desmond should discuss it when they visit Alamut next time. There had been no talks of her becoming Jalāl’s betrothed at all.
It would push through, Adha knew that for certain.
Desmond needed a wife to protect his standing in the castle. No matter how strong he was or how perfect he would be as the next mentor of Alamut, there would be those who would not accept him if he was to only take a male lover.
It would probably be different if his lover was an Assassin as well but he would need an Assassin with high enough standing in the Brotherhood that any whispers would be drown out by that Assassin’s own skills and accomplishments.
After all, the Brotherhood respected strength and intelligence the most.
Death comes to all.
The weak and the strong. The kind and the cruel. The old and the young.
Adha was not unaccustomed to death.
She had lived her entire life as the daughter of a traveling merchant. The roads could be quite perilous. The places they travel to could be as kind to the people living there as they could be cruel, whether thanks to the acts of God or the acts of an uncaring lord.
Even the war that was enveloping al-Sham and its neighboring lands were simply another reminder of how mortal humans were.
How easily their life could be snuffed out.
Adha should probably be glad that it had happened quickly.
A single arrow pierced the side of his father’s head, delivering a swift death.
They descended upon the merchant caravan she and her father had been traveling with, swords at the ready, before his father’s body had even completely fallen off the wagon.
There was no warning. No mercy.
They were there to take the goods the merchants of this land had and to kill everyone.
Survivors could complicate things.
Adha wasn’t even sure if those crusaders had been ordered to attack them or if they had seen an opportunity and had become blinded by greed or desperation.
But she saw the way they didn’t even consider sparing them. The crusaders saw them as enemies.
No.
They saw peaceful merchants as lower than enemies.
One of them charged Adha and pulled down her niqab. The leer in his eyes and the growing smile marking his face made her blood boil.
Before he could touch her, her hand gripped the handle of the dagger her aunt gave her and she plunged it straight at his neck, in the small opening between his helmet and his armor. Her body ached but her mind was clear and her heart was cold.
She had no time to grieve her father’s death.
Nor was she given the chance to give her father the proper burial.
The oil that one of the merchants was supposed to sell had already started to spill and Adha ignited it to help her escape.
Once she took the time to finally rest, an entire day and night spent forcing the horse she stole to run and never look back, she wondered if she had unintentionally killed any of the merchants.
The fires would not care what it burned.
And Adha’s mind simply screamed at her to run.
Run and live.
It sounded like her father’s voice.
Had he been alive, he would have told her the same thing even if it meant that he would be left behind to die as well.
She was too weak to even try to save anybody else.
It took all of her strength to save herself.
She rested by the river to clean herself up. The dark color of her clothes made it harder to see the dry blood but she was not safe yet.
They were traveling merchants and she was a woman traveling alone.
Nowhere was safe in these lands.
So she continued on…
To Alamut.
Her mind was clear and her heart was cold.
She must do what was required of her.
She must inform the mentor of his brother-in-law’s passing.
She had planned to enter the castle through the front gates. The Assassins would never turn a blind eye on a woman traveling on her own.
But the road was littered with other people.
And Adha’s mind saw enemies where there might have not been any.
She could not risk it.
Her mind was too shrouded by invisible enemies conjured by her darkening thoughts that she didn’t think that any of the people she saw traveling towards Alamut would help her.
She remembered her father’s instructions, of the secret tunnels that will lead to hidden passageways in Alamut.
She went to the farthest of them and traveled the tunnels, relying in her memories of her father’s instructions and the torch she found in the bag strapped to the horse she stole. She took off the straps and freed the horse before she entered the tunnel. Whether it survived or not was no longer her responsibility.
The tunnels went on and on for hours. When she thought she finally found the way to the mentor’s tower, she found herself somewhere else.
She recognized the thermae and knew she made a wrong turn so she returned to the darkness of the tunnels.
She walked once more.
She didn’t know how long she had been walking but she continued to walk nonetheless.
… until the ground below her crumbled and she fell to the floor below, the light of her torch snuffed and plunging everything into darkness.
She kept walking toward with a hand on the wall to her left.
What else was she supposed to do?
The hole was too high for her to climb.
All she could do was continue forward.
She fell when the ache of her feet became too much.
She apologized to her father for forgetting the instructions.
Then she remembered…
Her father was dead.
She didn’t know why that thought finally pierced through the mist shrouding her mind.
Tears fell from her eyes as she berated herself.
Her mind was clear?
She had only fooled herself into believing that the mist that shrouded her mind could ever be considered ‘clear’.
Lost in whatever haze she had been in, she didn’t even realize that she could have just asked for help in the thermae. They would have recognized her.
They would have helped her.
And now here she was…
Alone in the dark.
Finally being assaulted by the grief of her father’s passing.
She cried until tears could no longer fall from her eyes.
Her entire body hurt.
Her chest ached.
Her throat hurts.
The tears had stopped but her breathing was still uneven and her lips still mourned the death of her father.
That was when he came.
He stayed quiet and sat next to her.
What an awkward man he was.
He didn’t even say anything to comfort her.
He made the right choice.
Had he tried to ask her if she was alright or ask her why she was crying, she would have slapped his hand and turn her grief into anger aimed at him.
He didn’t deserve it.
His silence was more comforting than any words he could have said.
His silence helped anchor Adha.
He helped Adha breath easier.
She didn’t need him. Even if he didn’t appear, she would have stood and continued to walk wherever these tunnels would take her once she got her bearings back.
But she appreciated him being there nonetheless.
“Do you know the way out of here?” She asked instead, once she was sure her voice would not waver.
“Uuhhh…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, “You can stand on my shoulders? That’ll give you enough boost to jump out of the hole?”
“What about you?” Adha asked as she turned to look at him even though she couldn’t see him in the darkness surrounding them. She wasn’t sure but she felt like Desmond waved his hand as if to say that it wouldn’t be a problem and grabbed the torch lying between them. He used his flint to light her torch once more, casting a warm light around them.
He grinned at her as he said, “You can just get my parents to find me. They’ll bring a rope for me to use.”
He sat back as he said casually, “I lit the way I took while looking for you. Just follow them and you’ll find one of my parents or get to the exit in the thermae.”
“You’re not supposed to light them.” Adha said with a frown.
Desmond blinked as he turned to look back at Adha, “Didn’t your father tell you that we light the torches to help guide us and those looking for us?”
Adha’s frowned deepened and she looked away from Desmond as she replied, “No. Father never told me that. He told me never to light the torches. He said they would put me in danger.”
“He was probably worried that you’ll use them while you were being chased.” Desmond guessed, his voice softer then usual.
Did he pity her?
Adha could use that to her advantage but she was… so tired.
She was sure that she didn’t need his pity for him to help her. Desmond was kind enough to help her even without pitying her.
He was that strange, after all.
“Alright.” Adha slowly stood, making sure her legs wouldn’t give out. Desmond stood as well, keeping a distance far enough to be respectful but near enough he could catch her if she was to fall.
Adha appreciated his concern.
“We’ll go with your pla-”
Adha stopped.
“Adha?” Desmond called out softly. Adha had just suddenly stopped talking and turned to look at the tunnel ahead of them.
“Do you hear that?” Adha asked as she grabbed the lit torch on the ground. She used the torch to light the tunnel as she took a step forward.
“Hear what?” Desmond frowned.
“I… I think it’s calling me?” Adha seemed unsure and Desmond’s frown deepened. He didn’t hear anything…
But if Adha was sure she heard something…
Desmond turned to look back at the tunnel that would lead them to the hole before turning to look at Adha as he asked, “We should check it out tomorrow after you get some rest, Adha.”
“No!” Adha shouted as she turned to face Desmond before she took a step away from him, placing a hand over her head as she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to shout to you. I just…”
This was getting too dangerous for Desmond’s taste.
It was clear that whatever was calling to Adha had some kind of effect on her. If he tried to push for her to not look for it, she might even try to run away from him.
But that didn’t mean that he should just let her go to the sound she was hearing alone and unprepared.
“Alright. We’ll check it out… together.” Desmond stressed.
This was his best bet right now.
Adha’s mental state was concerning and her reaction to his suggestion to leave instead of going to the origin of that sound would imply that trying to stop her would hurt her more.
“Thank you, Desmond.” Adha said with a small fragile smile.
“Lead the way, you’re the one hearing the creepy voices.” Desmond lightly said, hoping that joking about it wouldn’t let Adha realize that he was making her walk ahead of him to make sure she wouldn’t have the chance to ambush him from behind.
Normally, he wouldn’t think that Adha would attack him but she was currently hearing weird sounds. Desmond couldn’t risk it.
“It’s not a voice.” Adha said with a sigh and Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile. He didn’t know if she realized he had made that ‘mistake’ deliberately to cut the tension and it had the desired effect. She looked better. Okay, she looked annoyed that Desmond was making light of the situation but it was a better expression on her than her previous closed expression.
“It’s like… a sound.” Adha tried to explain as she began to walk deeper into the tunnel, “It’s this way.”
They reached the end of tunnel and walked into a large circular room too dark to see anything concrete. Adha entered the room first and the moment she stepped into the room, the entire room began to light up, revealing countless memory seals that made up the walls and ceilings of the room.
Desmond’s eyes widened as he froze, recognizing the color of the light before he even saw the memory seals.
It was hard not to.
The memory seals’ light shared the same color as the light of the Apple.
“DNA analysis complete. Playing recording.”
Desmond couldn’t even step forward as the unfamiliar robotic tone that echoed around the room.
Fear.
For a brief moment, he was reminded by that fateful day in the vault.
The warmth of Lucy’s blood as it drenched his hand…
Desmond’s breath hitched and he was pulled back into reality when Minerva appeared at the center of the room as a hologram similar to how she had appeared to Ezio in the vault back in the past-
No.
In the future…
“If you are watching this message then it means that a child born with my blood has reached this place.” Minerva’s hologram continued.
“Hello, my child. I am Minerva.” Minerva said in an emotionless tone.
“Minerva?” Adha blinked as she took a step back, turning to face Desmond as she asked, “Desmond, can you see her?”
Before Desmond could even answer, Minerva paused for a moment before saying, “No. I am not a god. I am a member of a race known as…”
Desmond frowned as Minerva continued to explain who she was. Minerva sounded like she was answering a question.
But Adha didn’t ask her anything.
Adha looked as confused as he felt right now.
Before either of them could do anything, they heard Minerva speak, “As a child of mine, that means you are what the humans call a Chalice.”
“Chalice?” Adha repeated as she turned to face Minerva again.
Desmond’s heart began to beat faster than normal.
Chalice.
He knew the title.
It was Adha’s title.
But… his Bleed of Altaïr never knew what that meant.
Only that it was supposed to be able to unite the lands?
Was that right?
Desmond’s memories of it were too blurry that he couldn’t even be sure if he was remembering something right now or was imagining the answer he wanted to find.
“Your blood can awaken any of the weaponry and machinery my kind created as an admin, the highest possible ‘user’ that will grant full access.” Minerva’s hologram continued, “And there will be people who would want to use you for their own goals. You must not let anyone capture you, no matter who they are.”
“You must run away and never stop running.” Minerva continued, “Do not trust anyone. The moment you trust someone will be the moment you will die.”
“I’m sorry, my child.” Minerva’s tone grew softer, “Because of your ties with me, you are cursed with this deadly path.”
“Do not forget my warning and keep running.” Minerva said as her hologram slowly start to become more transparent.
“Wait!” Desmond shouted as he finally took a step to enter the room even though he knew it was just a recording. The moment his foot stepped into the room, the light disappeared completely.
A fraction of a second passed in total silence before a blinding light erupted all around the room, forcing Desmond and Adha to shield their eyes.
“Desmond.” Minerva’s voice glitched.
The light disappeared and they both stared at Minerva’s hologram.
She looked… older.
Desmond couldn’t help but step closer to look at her.
The clothes she wore in both the hologram earlier and the message in the vault had been replaced by what looked like some kind of dark blanket and there were distinct wrinkles all around her skin. Underneath, she seemed to be wearing some kind of grey dress that didn’t shine like her other dress.
“Desmond, if you are watching this then I was successful in bringing you back here and you were able to meet with the last of my children. I tried my best to send you as close as I could to her.” Minerva started before stopping to cough, covering her mouth with one hand.
Desmond’s breath hitched when he saw blood on the hand that had been covering her mouth.
“It’s alright.” Minerva said calmly as she closed her hand into a fist, “This prison held against the Solar Flare but the power room suffered unfixable damage.”
Desmond and Adha took a small step back instinctively.
“You two don’t need worry. The toxin would be long gone by the time you received this message.” Minerva added before continuing, “I cannot say more in this place on the off-chance Juno realizes what I have done.”
She waved her hand towards Adha as she said, “This is one of my last children. My blood flows in her and she will be the only one capable of opening my final resting place where I will stay until my death after I leave this message.”
She waved her hand towards Desmond as if to offer it to him, “I know you have many questions, Desmond, but this place is not safe. Go to my resting place with my child and activate the device I left there. My final message to you will be there.”
A small ball appeared on top of her hand and hovered there, “This will show you the city of pillars.”
Desmond walked towards the ball and opened his palm warily.
“Go to Iram, Desmond.” Minerva instructed as she dropped the ball into Desmond’s hand, “There you will find what you need.”
Minerva’s hologram disappeared, not giving Desmond any time to even say anything at all, and the entire room was engulfed in darkness.
The small ball in Desmond’s palm pulsed before creating a hologram that took over the walls.
It looked like some kind of map…
“That’s…” Adha took a step towards the only memory seal glowing.
Desmond was briefly reminded by the phrase ‘X marks the spot’ and wondered if that memory seal even contained any memories at all.
“That’s near Al-Yaman.” Adha said with a frown. She turned to face Desmond and opened her mouth but, before she could actually say anything, they heard a wall to the other side of the room open, revealing a new tunnel.
And Desmond stared at Adha.
Adha frowned, “What?”
Adha was supposed to take that tunnel.
If it wasn’t for Desmond, no one would have known about Adha being lost in the tunnels. There would be no one to rescue her, leaving her with no option but to continue to walk the path that was given to her.
“That tunnel should lead outside.” Desmond said.
It was the tunnel Adha was meant to follow after she heard Minerva’s original message.
Adha simply hummed as she stared at the tunnel for a moment.
She turned to look at Desmond and said, “Maybe it would be better if we just return to the hole and you help me get up like we planned before. We don’t even know where ‘outside’ that would lead.”
Seeing Desmond’s brows furrowed, she tilted her head as she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“No. It’s nothing.” Desmond shook his head.
Minerva had finally given him a path to take.
And he needed Adha.
Maybe this way… he could find something that would keep Adha safe and alive without changing the timeline too much.
“Let’s go back, Adha.” Desmond said with a small fragile smile, “We’ll talk about Minerva’s messages after we’ve both rested.”
“Alright.” Adha nodded.
Both of them ignored the wall that slid close the moment they left the room. Desmond paused when he heard a crack though and he turned around.
The hologram of the map was gone and the small ball was nowhere to be found. The memory seal that had glowed to show them the location of Iram fell on the floor a second later.
Desmond walked back inside and knelt in front of the destroyed memory seal, waving off Adha’s call of his name. He grabbed half of the memory seal and…
There was nothing.
No memory at all.
Desmond stood and placed a hand on the nearest memory seal on the wall.
Nothing.
All of these memory seals were empty.
And was when Desmond realized…
This must be the memory seals Altaïr would find decades from now.
… once he had been exiled to Alamut.
Chapter 51
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Diya al-Dīn found them while Desmond was trying to help Adha climb out of the hole, most probably hearing them argue about how ‘boosting’ Adha would not work and they would have a better chance of succeeding if she just stood on his shoulders like they planned in the first place. Desmond knew that the three were nearby but they didn’t try to come nearer. Diya al-Dīn, on the other hand, simply smiled at Desmond and Adha as he asked if the two were alright.
Adha didn’t seemed to notice anything and the three bright blue forms nearby left soon enough, almost like they were waiting for Diya al-Dīn to say “I’m glad you’re both alright” as if it was some kind of code.
It probably was.
Desmond wondered why Raiza didn’t stay, considering her familial connection to Adha. Then again, it was Raiza. She knew she was bad at comforting people in general and probably believed she would only aggravate things.
Desmond wasn’t so sure if it was the right call.
… especially after Adha reported to Diya al-Dīn that her father was dead.
After that, Adha was given a room in the mentor’s tower. Normally, she would be given a room either in the palace or in the thermae, considering she was an unwed woman but it was already late at night by the time they returned so she was given a clean room two floors below Desmond’s own room after a small awkward dinner with Diya al-Dīn and Desmond. Conversation was kept to a minimal and she quickly excused herself soon after. While she probably hadn’t eaten anything for the entire day (maybe even more), Diya al-Dīn had been worried that her body might be surprised by the sudden influx of food so he advised her to eat a bit and drink lots of water to get her body used to it.
Desmond wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do but Adha did admit she didn’t feel hungry, just tired, so he didn’t object.
Under the candles of his father’s office, Adha looked composed and calm. The lines under her eyes showed her tiredness but she was holding herself well.
Desmond escorted her to her room and she said good night before closing the door, not even bothering to wait for him to say anything.
Desmond felt like they should probably talk about what happened back in the tunnels but, at the same time, he was too tired to even try and talk about what happened in the tunnels.
Was he making sense? He didn’t feel like he was making sense.
Realizing that his thought process was shot at this point, Desmond figured he’d take his usual nightly bath before going to sleep as well.
By the time he returned to his room, freshly washed and holding his dirty clothes in one arm, Aquila had turned his pillow bed into a nest and Desmond was too tired to scold the eagle for trying to passive-aggressively remind Desmond that he left him alone without telling him anything so he just slumped over the nest right next to Aquila, making the bird squawk. He fell asleep to the feeling of Aquila lightly pecking his hair.
He woke up a little later than usual to the feeling of Aquila’s insistent squawking near his ear. He tried to go back to sleep by turning to his side and covering his head with a pillow but Aquila took personally offense to that and landed on top of the pillow, making cooing and thrilling sounds that was less ‘morning bird song’ and more like ‘I know you’re awake, father, we should be eating breakfast now, father, I am in need of sustenance and I do not wish to hunt, father’.
Almost like Aquila had called for reinforcement, the door to his room opened loudly and Desmond heard the quick footsteps of small feet before his pillow bed was besieged by his younger brother who greeted cheerfully, “G’morning, De!”
Desmond slowly pulled the pillow off his head to not topple Aquila off and gave a sleepy glare at Diya al-Dīn who remained smiling pleasantly from the other side of the door.
“Breakfast, De!” Jalāl cheered.
Desmond sighed and rubbed his face against the pillow underneath his head.
He guessed it was too late to tell them he wanted to sleep some more.
Raiza looked a bit absentminded at breakfast. Not that it was surprising, considering she must have heard about her brother’s death yesterday night after spending hours looking for her missing niece. Still, she looked more composed than Desmond’s tired expression.
Their parents seemed to think that his tiredness stemmed from having to find Adha after pulling an all-nighter for the monthly report.
Desmond didn’t bother to tell them it wasn’t.
To be honest, it was because of Minerva’s message.
Sure, it was good that he finally had an idea of what to do but… it triggered his dreams to be more…
Unpleasant.
He dreamed of being chased by the light of the Apple of Eden. No matter how fast he tried to run, they were catching up to him. Just when they were about to catch his feet, he slammed into a glowing trunk that we was sure just materialized out of nowhere, falling on top of it.
The tree trunk pulsed then he woke up.
When he woke up, he didn’t feel refreshed at all. If anything, he felt tired, like he had just ran the entire night.
If he was to interpret the dream, he was probably worrying about being near anything related to Minerva and her kind. Nothing good came out of dealing with them or the POEs, after all. Being chased by that telltale light of theirs was Desmond’s subconscious reminding him that he was still under their control… probably. Desmond had never tried to interpret his dreams before and it was probably useless to do such a thing anyway.
His tired looks made his parents give him what amounted to a day off and Desmond took it. He did have unfinished business after all.
“You didn’t tell them about Iram.” Desmond said in greeting once Adha opened the door to the room she had been given. She was wearing a new set of clothes and Desmond recognized it as one of Raiza’s more plain-looking clothes, ones she would use when she visited the village below the castle. One of Diya al-Dīn’s guards must have given it to her this morning. She stepped to the side to let him in and Desmond ignored that little voice inside his head reminding him that he was playing with fire, entering Adha’s room alone.
An unwed man and an unwed woman in a room alone.
Yeah, definitely dangerous if people was to hear about it.
He also ignored the familiar scent from the thermae’s oils and soaps that he smelled when he passed her.
“You didn’t tell them about Iram as well.” Adha reminded him as she walked towards the table with soft looking pillows. Desmond followed her and sat on one of the pillows across Adha.
“Yeah, I didn’t.” Desmond said with a sigh as he watched Adha pour tea to the two cups on the table. She placed one cup in front of him before she took the other. She didn’t bother to wait for him to take a sip and drank the tea first.
Desmond didn’t mind.
“You’re not a descendant of the Hidden Ones, are you, Desmond?”
Desmond stared at his reflection in the tea as he replied, “I never said I was.”
He raised his head to stare at Adha as he continued, “They all assumed I was and nothing I said could dissuade them from that theory.”
“Minerva…” Adha placed both hands on her tea, her clear eyes staring straight at Desmond as she continued, “She said that they were not gods. That we humans have turned them into gods because we could not understand what they could do. We saw their devices and skills as divine and gave them the moniker of god because of it.”
Yeah, Desmond was half-listening to Minerva’s original message to Adha too so he remembered her saying something like that.
“Eternal life is seen as something only a god can achieve.”
Desmond had a bad feeling all of a sudden.
Adha stared at him with a solemn expression on her face as she asked, “Desmond…”
“… is Altaïr your child?”
Is Altaïr your child?
Desmond wished he had been drinking the tea so he could spit it out and make a fool out of himself.
Is Altaïr your child?
Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, where in the living hell did Adha even conjure that idea from?
“What? No! God no! What?!” Desmond couldn’t even stop his voice from going higher, “We’re the same age!”
Sorta.
“More importantly! His parents are Umar and Maud!” Desmond reminded her but she didn’t seemed surprised or embarrassed.
Instead, she clarified, “Minerva called me her ‘child’ because I am her descendant. She knew about you and even called you by your name.”
Desmond stopped and blinked twice.
Oh.
Ooooohhh.
“You think I’m an Isu like her.” Desmond realized before groaning, “And Altaïr is my ‘descendant’.”
Fucking hell.
What did he do to deserve this?
First, he was mistaken to be Altaïr’s half-brother.
Now, he was being mistaken to be Altaïr’s freaking Isu ancestor.
And he felt so offended he wanted to gag.
“No, Altaïr isn’t my descendant.” Desmond said as he covered his face.
It was the other way around but Desmond didn’t feel nice enough to explain that little tidbit.
He pulled his hands down as he added, “I’m not an Isu as well. I’m…”
Should Desmond explain to Adha how he was from the future?
Should he even explain it? Wouldn’t that mess up the timeline?
He still wasn’t sure what Minerva was trying to tell him. If he messed up and changed the timeline too much without confirmation that it was okay to do that, he risked the possibility of erasing his very existence.
Or worse, he risked the possibility of putting Altaïr’s life and future in danger.
That was something Desmond couldn’t risk, no matter what.
His life was expendable. He wasn’t even meant to be part of this time, after all.
But Altaïr…
He had to protect Altaïr’s future at all cost.
And that meant…
Desmond dropped his hands and stared at Adha as he asked, “Would you be okay with maybe not giving my parents the entire truth?”
… finding what Minerva left for him.
“Do not forget my warning and keep running.” Minerva’s recording came to an end and his parents continued to stare at her hologram as it disappeared.
“So this is why you came to Alamut.” Raiza asked as she turned to face Desmond. Adha was quiet but he knew she was confused to why one of the mentor’s wives had to be here to watch the original message but Desmond already had an excuse ready to protect Raiza’s true standing in the Brotherhood if she didn’t want to tell Adha the truth.
Raiza was also a Chalice like her, having Minerva’s blood flowing through her so she should hear Minerva’s warning as well. The fact that Minerva’s message played the moment she stepped inside the room was all the proof they needed.
Bringing his parents here (with Bennu on Diya al-Dīn’s shoulder, connected to one of the other two wives) was a risky move for Desmond, that was for sure.
It was a risk but it paid off. Even after Desmond stepped into the room, the message for him didn’t appear. It must have been automatically erased after the memory seal that showed Iram’s location was destroyed.
An automated system to lower the chance of Juno finding out what Minerva had done.
“Those who came before us… we have only read of them once in one of the journals of a mentor of the Hidden Ones.” Raiza said, staring at Desmond as she asked, “Are there more information about them in crusader lands?”
“Not exactly.” Desmond answered vaguely, “The Templars from where I came from made sure to destroy any records we have or hoard them for themselves if they found them useful.”
“But you’ve heard of the Chalice back then. That’s why you came to Alamut.” Raiza said, “To find a Chalice like me and my niece.”
“Minerva’s blood that flows in you and Adha are needed to open Iram, the City of Pillars.” Desmond explained, “That’s what I’m after.”
He looked at his hands as he admitted, “There’s something there that was left for my blood.”
Technically, to him specifically but his blood was also part of him so he wasn’t lying.
He raised his head as he sighed, “I didn’t exactly know that I would find a clue here in Alamut though.”
“I didn’t come here because of that. I came here because…” Desmond’s lips curved into a small solemn smile, “I didn’t have any other place to go to.”
“Maybe this is fate… or maybe someone has been pulling my strings ever since I got here.” Desmond said, unable to hide the bitterness in his tone, “But… even if I’m doing what they want, I have to do it anyway because…”
“Whatever is in Iram… is the answer I seek.”
“And what question is it that you’re seeking an answer to?” Raiza asked.
“Is it…” Desmond closed his hands into fists as he answered…
“Is it okay for me to live here?”
Desmond halted as he felt his hands tremble, the words that always haunted him that he dared not say out loud finally spilling from his lips.
“Is it okay for me to build a future here?”
Desmond knew it was a heavy thing to drop on them. It was probably the most honest Desmond had ever been to them ever since they met him.
It was only right that he would tell them to take the time to think about what they want to do.
“And if they don’t agree to you going with me to find Iram?” Adha asked before she sipped her tea. Desmond continued to sit by the window, grooming Aquila’s feathers as he sat on Desmond’s lap.
They returned to his room after showing Minerva’s message to Diya al-Dīn and his wives. It was still Desmond’s day off so he invited Adha into his room on impulse, having nothing else to do anyway and not wishing to be alone with his thoughts and he had a feeling Adha felt the same way.
“They will.” Desmond said lightly, glancing at Adha. She didn’t seem to mind that she was sitting in an unwed man’s room. Then again, she was still under the impression that they would be wed later on.
Desmond didn’t want to though. Even if it was to keep his standings in Alamut safe, he’d rather not get married to Adha. If he was to marry her, Jalāl’s position and the future of any of his future children would be in danger as well.
After all, some of the guests they had before still believed he was Diya al-Dīn’s illegitimate son. It won’t be surprising if they try to use his marriage to Adha to push him into having an heir that would become a danger to Jalāl and his children.
A child…
Desmond hadn’t really thought about it.
Sure, he had some experience with children thanks to his younger brother but there was a huge difference between taking care of a child as a father and as a brother.
“You’re the next mentor and the lands are currently embroiled in blood and death.” Adha reminded him, placing her cup on the table before continuing, “It would be too dangerous to let you leave Alamut right now.”
Desmond whistled and Aquila jumped off his lap, turning to look at him and tilting his head. Desmond rubbed below his beak, making Aquila shiver in delight and lean closer, as he said, “I’m an Assassin first and foremost. Plus…”
Desmond grinned as he added, “We can just run away if they don’t give us permission.”
Desmond patted Aquila’s head as he continued, “I’m more worried that they won’t agree for you to accompany me.”
“They will.” She said confidentially, “There’s only two Chalices right now and, among the two of us, I have the lesser value.”
Desmond frowned, “That’s not true.”
“If you tell me some drivel like ‘all lives are equal’, I will throw this cup at you.” Adha warned lightly and Desmond wasn’t even sure if she was joking or being serious with her threat. She used her point finger to trace the rim of the cup as she said calmly, “Think about it. Between me and my aunt, it’s clear that I’m the less important one. Aunt is the first wife of the imam and mentor of Alamut and your mother. You won’t choose to put her in danger instead of me.”
Raiza was also a trained Master Assassin but…
Honestly, Desmond would prefer to find Minerva’s message with Adha than her. It wasn’t a matter of trust. He trusted Raiza’s skills more than Adha’s and he trusted Raiza to help but…
Adha was meant to die this year.
The only way Desmond could think of that would keep Adha safe and alive was if he was there to make sure of it. He wasn’t sure what happened in the original timeline but he had a guess.
If he hadn’t been there, Adha would have fallen into that hole and heard the sound that would lead her to Minerva’s message without anyone even knowing she was there. She would have picked to use the exit that the room would show her after the message and then…
She would keep running until the Templars would hear about her being connected to the Chalice and that was when she would reunite with Altaïr and die soon after.
The Templars must not know she was the Chalice.
There was a knock on his door before one of Diya al-Dīn’s guards speak from the other side of the door, “The mentor would like to talk to you and Lady Adha, Desmond.”
“Understood.” Desmond pulled himself off the window sill and scratched Aquila’s cheek lightly as he said, “Stay here and keep an eye, okay? We’ll go eat after we talk to father.”
Aquila crooned and flapped his wings once to show Desmond that he was a big boy who can do this task, making Desmond chuckle as he patted Aquila’s head lightly. He nodded at Adha and waited for her to stand so they could go together.
“We will send three squads to check the route you will be taking to go to the location where you believe Iram is.” Diya al-Dīn started the moment he and Adha entered his office. The guards closed the door behind them and they walked towards the desk as Diya al-Dīn continued, “These squads will use three different routes and will report back to us.”
They all looked at the map where three distinct routes had been plotted. One of the squads was going to take a route south. That route would mean they’d have to take a boat to cross the Pars Sea… if they even find a boat. Another route would take the fastest route inland and the last route would also travel inland but it would follow the roads usually used by merchants. This meant it was the safest but longest route.
“You and Adha will wait here until we have their reports.” Diya al-Dīn continued, “Since you two need to be careful and not attract other factions, you can only take-”
“We won’t take anyone else.” Desmond cut off, making Diya al-Dīn frown in disapproval. He raised his head to stare at him and at Bennu with his glowing eyes, “Like you said, we shouldn’t attract anyone’s attention. All the other factions should know by now that we usually travel in a three-man squad.”
“Instead… while we wait for the reports, I’d like permission to train Adha as an Assassin.” Desmond continued, making Adha’s eyes widen.
Diya al-Dīn didn’t seem surprise. If anything, he looked like he expected it. There was no surprise but it was clear that he was worried and his worry was directed at Desmond. He wasn’t worried about Adha. At the very least, not as much as he was worried about Desmond.
“And…” Desmond glanced at the map, ignoring the worry in Diya al-Dīn’s eyes.
This was something he must do.
The best way to protect Adha right now would be…
“I would like our informants to start a rumor.” Desmond said, “… that the Chalice’s true identity is Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.”
… to take her place.
Chapter 52
Notes:
This chapter is unbeta’ed due to RL reasons.
Chapter Text
“Did you… cut your hair?”
Adha stared at Desmond’s confused expression for a moment before she touched her hair, now just long enough to end by the nape of her neck. She frowned a bit as she answered, “Yes, I did.”
“Oh.” Desmond tilted his head as he said genuinely, “It looks good on you.”
“Long hair would just get in the way and I assume I’m supposed to act like a man anyway.” Adha said as she walked next to Desmond as they made their way to the Shadow’s Tower.
Desmond blinked as he asked, “Do you want to pretend to be a man?”
If she just wanted to make sure that her hair wouldn’t get in the way, she could have just braided it and tied it around her head like what Maria Thorpe did.
Adha frowned at him as she asked back, “Is that not the plan? For me to pretend to be a man during our travels? Two monks traveling is less interesting than a man and a woman traveling all alone after all.”
“Well, yeah, when we leave Alamut, that’s the plan. But you don’t have to pretend to be a man while training. Your hood will hide your hair anyway even if you don’t cut it.” Desmond agreed before adding, “And we’ll be focusing on how to move like an Assassin for your training. It’s not an official training. That can wait after we get back if you still want to continue.”
They were just about to pass the courtyard when Desmond stopped and turned to face Adha who had stopped first. Adha’s expression made it clear that she wasn’t sure if she should think of Desmond as an idiot or simply be confused at him as she said, “Women cannot be Assassins.”
Desmond shrugged as he asked lightly, “Good thing you’re not officially being trained to be one then, right?”
Desmond knew Adha could sense something was off. He wondered if she realized it was the words he said before.
‘If you still want to continue…’
Desmond wasn’t making light of Adha’s situation or the current ‘traditions’ of the Brotherhood. He also had no dreams of being some kind of revolutionary in the eyes of the Brotherhood.
Still…
The fire in Adha’s eyes reminded Desmond of Claudia.
While Claudia had not been trained to be an Assassin when she was young like Federico and Ezio, she was a good example of how it was never too late to become an Assassin. Adha also sometimes move a bit like an Assassin, whether it was because she was mimicking her late father who had been trained as a child of an old Assassin family or her father had actually given her a bit of training to protect herself, Desmond wasn’t sure. All Desmond planned to do was give her the necessary guidance to train her body into moving more like an Assassin and maybe a bit of close quarters combat skills here and there to keep herself safe.
He was planning on teaching her how to use a bow though since that would keep her at a safer distance.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Adha said slowly, as if she was waiting for some metaphorical shoe to drop. When Desmond simply waited for her to continue walking, she sighed. She began to walk once more and Desmond made sure they were walking side by side before he started to walk as well. Adha glanced at him as they exited the courtyard and she warned, “I hope you are prepared to hear objections from many of them… if not all of them.”
Desmond simply shrugged as he said, “I’ll deal with it.”
Adha sighed once more, as if Desmond’s nonchalant reply was something she had expected from the very beginning.
Desmond wasn’t an idiot. He knew there would be those who would object to him training Adha. He just never expected it to come from someone so close to him.
“What are you doing, Desmond?” Peredur hissed as he grabbed Desmond’s arm and pulled him away so they could whisper in relative peace. The other Assassins and recruits were all pretending they weren’t staring at Adha being ‘questioned’ by Oded. Desmond would have liked it better if Oded was to be in charge of Adha’s training but Oded and the other instructors already had their hands full with the current batches. Regardless, Oded wanted to know Adha first before he would agree to letting Adha receive her ‘recruit’ robes and Desmond knew it was Oded’s way of supporting them. He planned to talk to Oded later concerning Adha’s training schedule, knowing the instructor would help.
Honestly, he didn’t expect Peredur to be the one to first bitch about this just because Adha was a woma-
“What about Altaïr?!” Peredur whispered loudly in a voice that sounded like he was an inch away from wailing.
Desmond stared at him.
“Altaïr?” Desmond repeated, utterly confused by the question, “What does Altaïr have to do with me training Adha?”
“You know how this goes! It’s only training!” Peredur said in a mocking tone before he continued in an almost feverish haze, “But then one day, the two of you become so engrossed in your training that you didn’t realize that the sun had already set. The two of you would be locked in unarmed combat and then… someone trips, the two of you fall to the soft sands below-”
“Woah, woah, stop, stop!” Desmond covered Peredur’s mouth to physically stop his train of thoughts, dread already filling him as he realized that Peredur was worried about the wrong thing.
Worse.
He was getting an idea for a story.
He needed to nip this in the bud. He didn’t want any romantic encounter between him and Adha’s character. That would just complicate his actual relationship with Adha here in the real world in the eyes of those who knew the books were based on him.
“Look, I’m escorting Adha somewhere later this year okay? But because of the ‘sensitive’ nature of this mission, we need to travel alone.” Desmond whispered, making sure his voice was soft enough that only Peredur would hear it.
Peredur made muffled sounds that Desmond was going to translate as “Just the two of you!” and groaned.
“Nothing’s going to happen, Peredur.” Desmond hissed, wondering why the hell he was adamant of clearing this misunderstanding right now, “I have no romantic feelings for Adha and I never will. Hell, we’re cousins. The most I feel about her would probably be more like a sister or something.”
Peredur made more muffled sounds that Desmond was going to translate to “You say that now but look at her!” as he waved his hands on Adha’s direction.
Objectively, he knew Adha was an attractive woman and she got along with Desmond fine.
But…
Desmond sighed.
“Yeah, sure, but she’s not Altaïr, right?”
He felt Peredur freeze next to him and Desmond knew he had said the wrong thing.
He felt Peredur’s gaze on him and the hopeful expression on his face.
Ordinarily, Desmond would feel awkward over Peredur’s… investment in Desmond’s and Altaïr’s relationship (not that there was any relationship!) but then Desmond remembered that Peredur was looking for inspiration for his next book and all that awkwardness just turned to Desmond…
… letting out a big sigh.
Then again…
He was planning on getting Peredur’s help anyway.
“Desmond, when I told you I would help in any way you need, I didn’t mean… with these.” Peredur waved the piece of paper in his hand which just happened to be a report from the Rafiq in Antioch.
“Don’t worry. You’ll have Khalid helping you out.” Desmond used his quill to point at Khalid who was sitting on the other side of Desmond’s office in the Mentor’s Tower, a floor above Diya al-Dīn’s office, “For now, you just need to learn the basics and memorize my handwriting.”
“Your handwriting…” Peredur repeated as he looked at the paper in his hands.
“When I leave with Adha for our mission, people not close to us shouldn’t know that ‘Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III’ has left Alamut. You’re going to be my body double.” Desmond said with a grin.
“I don’t even look like you.” Peredur groaned, “Besides, Hamaal is the closest to you in build and height in our batch.”
“And Hamaal was sent to Ḥalab, remember?” Desmond reminded him.
Technically, Hamaal was part of the team sent to check the routes regularly used by merchants but he was going to stop by Ḥalab so it wasn’t necessarily a lie.
“By the time he returns, it would be too late. I can’t teach him any of these or give him enough time to mimic my handwriting.” Desmond placed a big book on top of the table. Khalid simply yawned as he flipped through the reports from an Assassin team pretending to be traveling merchants while Peredur looked at the book with dread as he sat on the chair that Desmond normally sat at when he was looking over the paperwork.
“Why not Khalid then?” Peredur groaned as he glared at Khalid.
“I have a baby to think about.” Khalid lightly said, making Desmond roll his eyes.
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Peredur said as he continued to glare at Khalid.
“Khalid can’t just pretend to be me and disappear. Masyaf knows who he is and what he looks like.” Desmond reminded Peredur, “Khalid is here to help you pretend to me and with these.”
Desmond patted the book and Peredur’s glare turned wary as he stared at it.
“And what is that?”
“What do you think is the most important report a mentor should take care of?” Desmond asked.
“Uuuhhh… reports from the Rafiqs about crusader movements?” Peredur answered in a questioning tone.
“Nope.” Desmond opened the book and Peredur’s eyes widened at the countless numbers, “The most important reports concerns the resources and supplies the strongholds and bureaus have. Basic necessities are the most important thing every person should have.”
“Get ready, Peredur, because today…” Desmond’s smile was both soft and promised pain and suffering, “I’m going to teach you how to read and record grain reports.”
Weeks go quite quickly in Desmond’s eyes. Every morning after breakfast, Peredur would help with the reports that would fall on Desmond’s desk. This way he could learn how Desmond work and Desmond would have additional help in clearing all the urgent reports for that day. Adha had morning training with the recruits under Oded’s supervision to give her a good foundation that Desmond would build on during their afternoon sessions. Normally, Desmond would like to start from the beginning but that would take too much time so he just focused on the skills that he believed Adha would need the most when they leave Alamut. Evening would be for finishing the non-urgent paperwork that Peredur couldn’t finish even with the help of Khalid.
He also knew that Khalid and Peredur would take breaks here and there and he didn’t mind. He didn’t want them to burn themselves out.
But this…
My dearest Altaïr,
I pray that this letter finds you in good health.
Rain had been falling for days now and I have received words from the farmers that this is worrisome. Too little rain will yield not enough corps, but too much-
Desmond raised his head, a pleasant smile on his face as he gripped the letter in his hand tightly. His voice was light as he asked, “What the hell is this?”
Peredur kept looking everywhere expect his eyes as he tried, “Uuuh… writing… practice?”
Desmond folded the letter in half.
“I was just practicing your handwriting!”
Desmond folded the letter in half once more.
“I swear I wasn’t going to send it or anything! I’m not that stupid!”
Desmond folded the letter in half again.
“I promise, Desmond!” Peredur went on his knees as he repeated, “It’s just for practice!”
Desmond stared down at his panicking friend as he folded the letter in half once more. At its current size, it could fit comfortably on his palm.
“Writing reports and letters to the Rafiqs are meant to be your practice, Peredur.” Desmond said sweetly.
“I know but… but…” Peredur looked at the ground as he admitted, “They’re so boring!”
“Peredur looked ready to fall asleep so I suggested he tried writing something he’d enjoy.” Khalid finally piped up from the small desk they had gotten him. He didn’t seemed at all worried for Peredur and had an amused smile on his face, most definitely finding the entire thing entertaining. He held out another piece of paper as he said, “His handwriting actually improved more when he started writing love letters in your name.”
Desmond grimaced as he took the paper from Khalid.
It was a letter that would be sent to the Rafiq. It looked a lot like Desmond’s handwriting but there was Peredur’s telltale habit of using too much ink for the dots as usual. He unfolded the letter once more and compared the two.
There were less dots with too much ink on it, especially during the latter half of the letter where…
Peredur had written a summary of the grain report for the last four years Desmond made him read and understand.
Written in his usual flowery way, of course.
Desmond sighed.
“Peredur…”
Peredur raised his head with the look of a man ready to accept any punishment.
“There’s no way in hell I’m going to start the letter with a ‘my dearest’.” Desmond said, making both Peredur and Khalid stare at him. He pointed at the start of the letter as he continued, “I always start my letter with a simple ‘Altaïr’. If I feel like changing it up, I go for ‘To Altaïr’.”
“You… you send letters to him.”
Desmond knew he was playing with fire.
Peredur’s eyes were shining, a small fire being lit from the charcoals left behind by the reception of the last book, and Desmond was going to stoke it some more.
He crouched as he said, “Your writing is passable already so you need to start writing like me.”
Desmond placed a hand on Peredur’s shoulder as he dangled the carrot, “When you can write good enough that it’ll fool the judge, I’ll…”
Desmond’s voice held all the seriousness of a man knowing he was making a deal with the devil, “… tell you how Altaïr and I exchange letters.”
“Oh, he’s getting better.” Rawiya noted as he stared at the two letters in his hand, both of which were to be sent to two different Rafiqs. He held one letter above his head as he commented, “The blotches are getting smaller too.”
“So… which is mine and which is Peredur’s?” Desmond asked, although he already knew which one Rawiya was going to pick.
Rawiya was one of the most familiar with Desmond’s handwriting in Alamut at the moment. After all, he and Khalid were Desmond’s tutors back in Lambsar Castle and they proofread Desmond’s early reports back then as well. Rawiya waved the letter he had held above his head as he said, “This one.”
Desmond chuckled lightly before he said, “Then I guess Peredur is going to have to try even harder next week.”
“This is good enough though. The Rafiqs wouldn’t notice it unless they scrutinize them the way I do.” Rawiya folded both letters, making sure that the name of the city where they would be sent would be visible before he tucked them between his sash and belt, “I’ll tie these to the pigeons later.”
“Thanks.” Desmond nodded before admitting, “I’d still prefer it if Peredur spends more time practicing while we have the time. Are your preparations ready?”
“All ready.” Rawiya answered as he leaned against the wall behind him. They stared at the training ring below them where Adha was fighting two recruits at the same time with their wooden weapons. The two recruits were using wooden swords but Adha was using a wooden dagger. What she lacked in range, she made up with speed and taking advantage of the recruits’ reluctance to attack her.
They watched as she stepped closer to one of the recruits, using her dagger to parry the recruit’s hurried strike and kicking him on the stomach.
Rawiya whistled before commenting, “That was your move.”
“Yeah.” Desmond agreed, rubbing his chin, “I just told her that she should focus on using her legs since she has long legs.”
They winced when Adha kicked the recruit between the legs without mercy before placing her dagger around his neck to get the final point.
“Okay, I didn’t teach her to do that but I did tell her to fight dirty.” Desmond said, not knowing if he should defend himself or not. He sighed as he turned to look at Rawiya as he asked, “Anyway, no problems at your end?”
“Not at all. My squad bought the lie that I’m going to shadow you later this year because the mentor was thinking of making me your bodyguard.” Rawiya waved his hand as he continued casually, “See if we fit together as master and bodyguard, blah blah blah.”
“Rawiya…”
“Relax. No one’s questioning it.” Rawiya patted Desmond’s back as he grinned, “They’re so used to me patrolling the castle anyway that they probably figured this is some kind of promotion.”
“You are the one who wished to be stationed in Alamut.” Desmond reminded him lightly.
“And I have no regrets.” Rawiya said before chuckling, “This way, I get to go home every day and make sure my father doesn’t forget to drink his medicine. Plus…”
“This way I can help Peredur when he’s pretending to be you.” Rawiya reminded him as he nudged Desmond’s shoulder with his, “So relax. You just focus on whatever mission you have. We’ll make sure no one even knows you left Alamut.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile as he said, “Thanks. If anything happens…”
“Our priority is to contact Zain and make sure Jalāl is safe.” Rawiya repeated the instructions that Desmond had told them again and again. Rawiya bumped against him once more as he said, “We’ll support Zain too with your little brother. Make sure Jalāl doesn’t spill the bills.”
“That’s why I’m keeping Zain with him. Making sure Jalāl doesn’t tell the world I’m gone the moment he doesn’t see me at breakfast is the most tiring task of all.” Desmond joked and he couldn’t help but join in when Rawiya laughed.
Below them, Adha managed to take down the other recruit by kicking him on the legs and straddling on top of him, pressing her wooden dagger against his neck.
Her training was proceeding better than Desmond expected.
With this…
All they had to do was wait for news from the teams sent to check their routes.
Chapter 53
Notes:
This chapter is not beta'ed due to RL reasons.
Chapter Text
“You’re quite an off-hands instructor.” Adha said lightly as she did the stretches Desmond taught her during the first day of her training.
“I’m a very busy man.” Desmond replied as he continued to lean his back against the railing of the training ring, “I hear you’ve been eating with the recruits?”
“Only for lunch.” Adha answered, “They invited me and I accepted. They’re quite awkward around me. I’m sure they weren’t expecting me to agree when they invited me.”
“Some of them are too young to be allowed the company of a woman in the thermae.” Desmond reminded her, making her hum.
“So was that your plan? To endear me to these young impressionable minds enough that they would support any changes you might make when you take the title of mentor?” Adha asked as she finished her stretches. She stepped forward and stood next to Desmond, placing her hands on the railing.
“I’m touched you believe I actually have some kind of big grand plan.” Desmond chuckled before shaking his head, “I have no plans to make any kind of ‘revolutionary’ changes in our Brotherhood. That’s not my place.”
“I highly doubt it is Rashid’s.” Adha dryly stated, making Desmond let out a surprised laughter. Adha turned to face him and raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry, sorry.” Desmond waved his hand to dismiss his outburst before explaining, “I just didn’t expect you to flatout insult Rashid. The recruits are definitely rubbing off on you.”
Adha shrugged.
“There are some people who learn easier when it’s just them and their instructor.” Desmond said as he finally turn around and face the training ring. He placed one hand on the railing as he continued, “And there are those who has an easier time learning when they can compare themselves to others or have the support of others like them.”
“You, Adha, lie in the second category.” Desmond stated with a grin, “You work harder when you’re trying to show everybody else that you are not someone they can mess with.”
Adha glanced at him before countering, “Have you ever considered that I try harder because I do not want anyone to use me as a way to show how unfit you are to be the mentor?”
Desmond hummed before saying, “Then I guess you can say I’m manipulating your morals and emotions to get my desired result.”
“Yes, I suppose one can say that.” Adha agreed although her expression seemed to be saying that she did not believe Desmond would be that ‘cruel’.
“Desmond.” Oded called out without raising his voice, “The recruits are all ready.”
Desmond nodded and patted Adha on the back, “Remember, you don’t need to win. You just need to show them that you’re strong.”
Adha wordlessly vaulted over the railing to enter the ring. One of the recruits entered the ring as well, taking a deep breath before readying himself as he held a sword in his right hand. Adha took out the training dagger she would use during sparring matches as she said, “But Desmond, there’s a huge flaw to this manipulative personality you talk about.”
“Oh?”
“You’re simply too kind to those you care about to do such a thing.” Adha said, her voice almost drowned out by Oded’s explanation of the rules of the sparring match.
“For this mock battle, you will hit your opponent using the weapon you have right now. Strike to hit, not hurt.”
“And you made it quite clear that you care about me.” Adha continued.
“Where you hit your opponent will count toward your score.”
“Adha, I don’t-”
“I know.” Adha cut him off with an even calm tone, “I also do not love you.”
“From the head to the neck will give five points. Shoulder, arms, and hands will be three points. Legs to feet will be two points. The torso will be one point.”
“But I care enough about you to not sully your reputation so…” Adha took a step forward, “I won’t just show them how strong I am.”
“Whoever gets five points first will win.”
“I’ll show them that you didn’t make a mistake taking me as your disciple.” Adha said and waited until Oded said “Begin!” before charging her opponent.
Her opponent tried to strike her using his longer weapon but he went for a horizontal strike, giving Adha the chance to evade it by rolling forward.
The recruit took a step back to evade Adha’s attempt to hit him.
Only Adha didn’t hit him.
Instead, she threw her dagger the moment he took a step and the butt of her dagger hit his sword while he was trying to block it. The force of the incoming dagger staggered him, making him yelp as he lost his balance and fell.
Adha quickly jumped him and took out her actual dagger and pressed the flat surface against his neck.
“Five points to Adha.” Oded announced, “The match is over.”
Adha sheathed her dagger and stepped back, offering her hand to the recruit who took her hand. She pulled him to help him get up while Oded turned to give Desmond an unimpressed look.
“What? You said ‘the weapons you have right now’. You didn’t specify it had to be her training dagger.” Desmond argued with a grin, making Oded sigh as Adha grabbed her training dagger before walking back to Desmond’s side of the ring.
“The next match will be in three minutes. Both participants, leave the training ring.”
Desmond continued to grin at Oded while Adha walked towards him, vaulting the railing once more. She stood close to Desmond and kept her back pressed against the railing. Desmond saw some of the recruits look away when they notice how close the two of them were and his grin became more amused as he said, “Adha… you do know my throwing knives are sharper than the dull ones you use for training, right?”
Adha continued to tie one end of the rope on the handle of the throwing knife she had nicked from Desmond’s belt. She angled her body so the recruits wouldn’t see what she was doing as she said, “I know. I’m confident of my aim.”
Desmond chuckled as Adha hid the modified ropedart she had made between her belt and sash. Desmond leaned against his hands as he said, “You’re going to aim for their leg, aren’t you?”
The leather of their boots were adequate enough that Adha’s modified ropedart wouldn’t pierce the skin.
“I’m more ambitious than that.”
In Adha’s next match, she did, in fact, not aim for the leg.
She aimed for the gauntlet and used it to pull her opponent towards her.
Desmond was pretty sure she was originally aiming for the leg but changed her aim because of what Desmond said.
His disciple could be petty like that at times.
“How is Adha doing?”
That was such a loaded question. Honestly, Desmond would prefer it if Raiza just talk to Adha herself instead of asking Desmond how she was doing.
This has been the third month that Raiza had asked Desmond to join him for tea just to ask about Adha.
Desmond once asked Adha if she wanted to meet her aunt and Adha looked surprised.
Not by the question but by the reminder that she actually had an aunt.
She just shrugged and said that she wouldn’t mind if her aunt asked to meet her.
Desmond didn’t really have a leg to stand on when it concerned relationships between relatives. It sounded hypocritical for him to be the one to try and push others to talk to their relatives considering…
Desmond Miles’ relationship with his father was too complicated and they were both emotionally constipated when it concerned family matters.
Desmond Miles’ relationship with his mother wasn’t that complicated compared to his father but they weren’t close enough that Desmond would willingly talk to her… not counting the last few months back in 2012 when he did want to see her. He had a feeling it was because of his own memories he revisited back when he was in a coma and he heard her voice calling out to him, begging him to come back.
And then there were his Bleeds…
Sure, there was Ezio and his love for his family but that was overshadowed by the complicated (understatement) relationship Ratonhnhaké:ton had with Haytham Kenway.
And Altaïr…
Altaïr’s only living (for now anyway) familial relationship was Rashid.
In conclusion… Desmond was definitely not going to do any pushing right now. It felt hypocritical of him.
“She’s doing well.” Desmond said the same thing as last month before throwing Raiza a bone, “Her freerunning is better than the recruits. I believe your brother taught her how to freerun.”
“He was good at that.” Raiza’s expression was calm as always but there was something in Raiza’s tone that Desmond barely heard.
Well… now this was awkward…
He didn’t mean to make Raiza remember the death of her brother.
“She’s getting along with the recruits as well.” Desmond added, trying to salvage the conversation, “She likes to say it’s because they want to join in our one-on-one lessons but I’m certain that’s not the only reason. They care about her. I think they do think of her as one of them.”
Raiza hummed, staring at the tea cup in front of her.
“Her mastery of the dagger is also progressing faster than I expected. It seems she has a talent for it.” Desmond continued, deciding to push it just a tad bit, “It would be better if she had an instructor that would have a similar build as her though.”
Raiza raised her head to stare at him before she asked, “How many of the Assassins around here do you think would not accept us because we have lied to them for decades?”
Raiza didn’t wait for Desmond’s answer and closed her eyes as she said, “I understand what you’re trying to do, Desmond, but this…”
Raiza opened her eyes before she continued, “Our identity must die with us.”
“You wished to push for change and we will support you as both your predecessors and your parents. That is why we must remain in the shadows.” Raiza stated, “A fresh start. A blank piece of paper. That is what you need to push forward. Our contributions will only muddle the path you take.”
Desmond knew there was more to the story than this. He never knew how or why they became the mentors in the first place but Nur had once hinted that it was not by choice, that they decided to take the mantle to support their husband after the death of their father-in-law.
Still…
“If they were to learn that you were supported by women when you were training to be an Assassin, those that do not wish for this change could just as easily twist the truth and make it appear like we have whispered to you to grant us power and prestige.” Raiza warned and Desmond couldn’t help but recognize that Raiza and Adha had the same habit when they realized that their emotions got the better of them.
They shut down.
“This idea must be seen as coming from you and you alone.” Raiza continued, “Do not even talk about how there were women in the Hidden Ones. Do not give them any reason to drag you down.”
Raiza slowly reached out her hand but stopped before she could touch Desmond’s hand. Instead, she placed her hand around her teacup as she said, “Do not worry about us. We did not take this burden because we wished to be recognized. We did it because we wished to protect the man we love and keep our home safe.”
“Go do what you want and make the Brotherhood you envision. Let us fade in the shadows.” Raiza said with a small grateful smile.
It only made Desmond feel awkward.
He had only wanted to hint that Raiza should train Adha as an excuse for the two of them to finally meet and talk.
And now…
It was too awkward to explain that.
So Desmond simply nodded, hoping that his expression didn’t betray him as he said, “Alright. If that is what you truly want…”
Working with Khalid had always been more on the side of relaxing for Desmond. But after Khalid got married, Hilde became pregnant and Khalid became preoccupied with being a doting husband (although Desmond was sure it was more accurate to call it a ‘whipped’ husband) and helping Peredur out with his mission to be Desmond’s double. Desmond had started to wear a black long coat over his Assassin robes and a black shemagh so that the people of Alamut would associate it with him.
Meekhal also got a shoe maker from Trapezounta to make the elevator shoes that Peredur was wearing whenever he was in the mentor’s tower so he could ‘catch up’ to Desmond’s height. Desmond didn’t know much about how elevator shoes were supposed to be made so he had only given Meekhal a vague description. Good thing that the shoe maker Meekhal talked to was able to do something about the vague description.
Peredur didn’t appreciate Meekhal’s story of how his ‘master’ wished to be taller because he was quite short and was feeling inadequate because his soon-to-be wife was taller than him.
Rahim and Hamaal returned to Alamut a few days ago and Rahim laughed and goaded Peredur after hearing Meekhal’s story.
Everyone just laughed when Peredur tried to choke Rahim via a headlock.
That was how they showed their friendship to one another after all.
“You know… I can take care of all these.” Khalid commented as he and Desmond finished up the remaining paperwork for today without Peredur.
Rahim had gotten Peredur fired up, talking trash about how Peredur had been stuck in Alamut like a scholar rather than an Assassin so the two of them had commandeered the training ring to ‘beat the crap out of each other’ as Peredur announced. Meekhal had been dragged as their referee and Amir had visited just in time to keep his brother-in-law from getting too fired up.
“Oh?” Desmond hummed.
“You should take your brother to see your batchmates make a fool of themselves. Teach him how not to act.” Khalid suggested lightly.
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile and he placed the paper he was reading on top of the stack of rejected file after writing a short note to it.
“Jalāl’s lessons should just be about done by now.” Desmond mused as he placed the quill he was using down. He covered the ink bottle as he asked, “You got this?”
“Of course.” Khalid grinned as he added, “Peredur’s not the only one who can copy your writing well enough.”
Desmond chuckled as he got up. He walked around his desk but stopped in front of Khalid as he said, “If Rahim and Hamaal are here…”
“It means that the last of the three teams had already finished giving their report to the mentor.” Khalid finished before saying, “Go, Desmond. It’s been a while since you’ve been with your entire batch.”
“Thanks. Don’t stay too long though. I don’t want Hilde scolding me tomorrow.” Desmond nodded before walking out of the room, his lips curving into a smile when he heard Khalid’s light reply just as he closed the door.
“I’ll ask Maria to distract her with our child long enough for you then.”
“De!”
Desmond blinked when he saw Jalāl running up the stairs. He almost tripped on his robes, making Kāve shout ‘your highness!’ in a panic but managed to catch himself after hopping on one foot three times. He hugged Desmond’s legs as he raised his head to smile at him, “Hello!”
“Hello, Jalāl.” Desmond patted his head before he turned to look at Kāve and Zain who were walking up the stairs, “I was just about to get you guys.”
“Huh?” Zain blinked before smiling, “Oh! We apologize for the wait. We made our way as soon as we received your message that you wished to see Prince Jalāl.”
Message?
Desmond didn’t-
Desmond turned to look at the closed door that would lead to his office and chuckled.
“Nah, it’s fine. It wasn’t because I was tired of waiting.” Desmond picked up Jalāl and refused to grunt when he realized that Jalāl was a tad heavier than last time he picked him up, “I just finished for the day and thought it would be nice to walk together with you guys.”
“Oh.” Zain’s smile grew and he and Kāve followed Desmond as he descended the stairs.
“Wh’re we going?” Jalāl asked curiously.
“I thought I’ll introduce you to my friends.” Desmond explained, nodding at the recruits cleaning the lower floors who bowed at them.
“Friends? Can they be Jalāl’s friends too?” Jalāl asked, making Desmond chuckle.
“I would love it if they become your friends too, asfoor.” Desmond said as Zain opened the main door for him.
“Yey!” Jalāl hugged Desmond and rested his chin on his older brother’s shoulder so he could talk to Kāve who was following behind them, “Kāve, Kāve! Let’s make more friends!”
“I’m sure they’ll be honored to be your friends, your highness.” Kāve commented in a warm polite tone.
Desmond turned to look at Zain as he mouthed the word ‘honored’. Zain looked a bit abashed and Desmond chuckled. It seemed Zain was still working on making Kāve believe that he could treat Jalāl as an equal more than a master.
By the time they reached the training ring, recruits and other Assassins were already surrounding it, cheering on Peredur and Rahim as they sparred.
“Is that all you got, Peredur?! You hit worse than a scholar who has back problems!”
“That would have sounded more imposing if you’re not on your knees!”
Desmond grinned and went straight to Adha who was standing next to Oded, the both of them watching the sparring match with serious expressions.
“Hey.” Desmond greeted lightly.
“Hello!” Jalāl greeted as well, surprising Adha who blinked at him.
“Desmond… your highness.” Oded nodded at the two, “Are you here to watch them spar as well?”
“Nah. I’m here for something else.” Desmond smiled at Jalāl as he said, “Jalāl, stay with this very nice person for now, okay?”
Adha froze and Desmond almost wanted to tease her, knowing how unused to children she was when she was first introduced to Jalāl a few months ago.
Oded took Jalāl in his arms with a raised eyebrow but adjusted his hold so Jalāl would be more comfortable.
“Thanks, Oded.” Desmond grinned before he vaulted over the ring, making the audience gasp before cheering.
Desmond motioned his hands for everyone to settle down before announcing, “From the head to the neck will give five points. Shoulder, arms, and hands will be three points. Legs to feet will be two points. The torso will be one point.”
He looked around the ring as he continued, “Whoever gets five points first will win.”
Before he goaded, “Well, how about it? Shall we try again?”
Everyone was silent before Hamaal laughed from the other side of the training ring. He vaulted over as he said, “It would be an honor to kick your ass this time, Desmond.”
Amir sighed and rubbed his forehead before he vaulted over as well, “As long as we finish this before dinner, alright? And take it easy on us. Some of us have patrol duties tonight.”
“You got it all wrong, Hamaal.” Rahim chided as he lightly kicked Hamaal from behind the leg, “You’re supposed to say ‘this time we’ll kick your ass, Desmond!’”
Peredur grinned as he called out, “Meekhal, Zain! Come on!”
Meekhal laughed as he vaulted over the railing, “Of course the first time we’re all back in Alamut together and we’re going to get beat up by Desmond. How nostalgic.”
Zain patted Kāve’s head as he said, “I’ll be back, alright? You stay close to his highness.”
They waited until Zain had vaulted over and stood on their side. Zain’s smile became more boyish as he asked, “The usual rules applies then? Only the weapons all over the training ring?”
Desmond glanced at all the dull weapons around them, most definitely part of the sparring match of the recruits before Rahim and Peredur commandeered it.
“Sure.” Desmond’s grin grew as he said, “Come at me then.”
They all waited until Oded announced…
“Begin!”
Chapter 54
Notes:
This chapter is not beta'ed due to RL reason
The first part of this chapter is written in Outsider’s POV. Other parts are written in Desmond’s POV. I was tempted to write this in Jalāl’s POV but he’s too young to have the vocabulary needed for writing a fight scene so you got this POV instead XD
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Oded remembered Umar Ibn-La'Ahad.
He had been one of the most promising Assassins Oded had ever met. Oded was already an Assassin when Umar was recruited by Rashid and he saw the boy following Rashid, looking all around Alamut with wary eyes. Rashid had told the mentor that he had been an orphan who tried to steal from Rashid while he had been in Anbar for a scouting mission. Rashid had taken the boy in and took him to Alamut, went as far as call him ‘son’ more than once.
Rashid had always had a keen sense of how to get people to his side but Oded saw the softness in his expression that he tried to hide whenever he visited Umar during training. That softness slowly disappeared the louder the whispers of Umar being Rashid’s bastard child circulated all over Alamut. That rumor died down later on once Umar showed his potential during training.
Perhaps he was planning to use the child back then as well but it was clear that he had grown fond of him, even if he had tried to hide it.
Rashid had been fond of Diya al-Dīn when he was young as well.
He and Umar had a sort of rivalry when it concerned catching Rashid’s attention.
No.
They looked for Rashid’s validation and praise.
Umar saw him as a father figure while Diya al-Dīn saw him as a brother figure.
Diya al-Dīn’s father, on the other hand, saw him as a rival who received all of his grandfather’s praise.
Oded was not surprised when Rashid left for Masyaf. He expected Rashid to leave sooner or later. He was too smart to try and push for a coup when the blood that runs through Diya al-Dīn’s father held more loyal and more experienced Assassins than he had in his corner.
He was not surprised when Umar joined him together with most of their most promising young Assassins.
He was not surprised when Faheem Al-Sayf, the last of the Al-Sayf back then, joined them as well.
He had been surprised when Diya al-Dīn stayed. He had expected him to throw away his future as the imam and mentor to follow the man closer to him than his own flesh and blood.
Oded knew he did not have all the information. He had heard the rumors that Diya al-Dīn and Rashid had an argument before Rashid had left. He had also heard rumors that the one Diya al-Dīn was arguing with had not been Rashid but Umar. Then there was also the rumor that it wasn’t Umar or Rashid but Faheem.
Oded wasn’t surprised that Umar and Faheem’s names were connected to Diya al-Dīn during that time.
After Diya al-Dīn quit his training a year before he was supposed to be initiated, his relationship with his grandfather and father soured greatly. The closest relationship he had left were to the three men who left for Masyaf years later.
And to his wives.
Oded wasn’t that familiar with any of them.
He remembered his first wife had been a member of an old Assassin family. His second wife had been a ‘guest’ that his grandfather had taken when she had been young. A political hostage masquerading as a playmate and future wife for his grandson. His third wife had been the daughter of a high ranking Assassin he had met during one of his few rare moments of traveling away from Alamut.
They were married to him young and left in the harem soon after. During the reign of the previous mentor, there were whispers of them being kept hostage to keep Diya al-Dīn in check.
Oded never believed them. Two of his wives were from Assassin families. Even if they weren’t trained as Assassins, they would have given lessons to defend themselves.
The very same lessons that Adha’s foundation was build upon… just as her mentor had planned.
Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.
The boy who reminded them a lot of Umar.
And was nothing like him at the same time.
He spoke too similar to Umar yet his words would be more informal or strange and his tone would be more relaxed.
Their next mentor.
The mad man who was planning to induct women into the Brotherhood.
The more ‘traditional’ ones were starting to get restless the longer Adha joined the recruits for morning training.
Her 4 consecutive wins during the recruits’ last sparring matches had gotten some whispering.
Desmond’s plan was risky but it was yielding results.
After all, the Brotherhood valued strength, intelligence and conviction most of all. Adha showed great affinity in all three.
Officially, Adha was not being trained to be an Assassin. She was being trained to be able to defend herself during a long journey with Peredur that would be happening soon.
She will not be initiated and will not be an Assassin.
But she was the catalyst of the change Desmond was going to push when he becomes the mentor.
He didn’t say it out loud but everyone knew it.
Adha’s high standing in the ranks showed that that there was merit and promise to this change.
Her friendly relationship with the recruits showed that it would not hinder the progress or be a distraction to others. Quite frankly, her inclusion to the recruits’ meals helped some of the more awkward recruits talk to women better.
Make them blend better.
Adha would not be initiated right now but, down the line, once Desmond had taken the mentor mantle, she would be.
It was part of Desmond’s grand plan, after all.
“Woooaahhh.”
Oded winced as he felt the young prince in his arms grip his hood and tug it, making the hood dig against the other side of his face. He kept a hand on the boy’s back to make sure he didn’t fall as he leaned forward to watch closely as his older brother fought his friends.
It was an interesting match, all six of them against Desmond.
They truly have grown from the wide-eyed recruits Oded had watched over all those years ago.
Amir had grown bigger and used his size to his advantage, blocking Desmond from seeing the others’ approach. He had taken a hit on his side a few years back and it showed with how he covered his left side more than his right. Desmond noticed it and tried to use it against Amir by attacking his right side but the others covered for him, keeping Desmond’s blade away before he could strike a point.
Hamaal was quicker and more decisive. Peredur’s joke of calling them the Orphan Speedster Trio back then had not been a joke. He and Peredur were the closest to catching Desmond unguarded and Hamaal knew it, pushing for the advantage but quickly jumping away and returning to the safety of his allies’ blades when Desmond tried to get a hit in.
Rahim had grown to enjoy dirty tricks the most. He also kept talking the entire time, mostly insulting his opponent. All of his insults aimed at Desmond lacked any bite and served to make Desmond laugh instead. He and Peredur still got into arguments even in the heat of this match but Oded knew it was simply the way Rahim fought. He used words to distract his opponents and give him an opening and Desmond was letting them distract him to both hear the most ridiculous thing to come out of his mouth and see what he was planning to do next.
Zain was still the fastest of them, faster than even Desmond. He used his lithe small body to his advantage, even going as far as using the back of Meekhal and Amir as stepping boards to jump higher and try and hit Desmond from above. Hammal even grabbed his wrist and whirled himself around a few times before throwing Zain towards Desmond like an incoming projectile weapon. Desmond simply stepped to the side but that move certainly caught the attention of everyone watching, especially when Zain simply used the momentum to push himself off the railings and strike Desmond from behind while the others performed a coordinated attack in front. Desmond managed to block them all but it was clear that he had been surprised as well if the surprised laugh leaving his lips was any indication.
Peredur was doing well as well even though he had been the one stuck most doing desk work for a while compared to the others. Oded knew that he always sparred with one of the Assassins in Alamut each day, at least twice a day. He would say it was to blow some steam due to his current desk work but Oded knew that, even if Peredur’s passion had been captured by ink, he still took his duties as an Assassin seriously. He was fast and he didn’t mind playing the role of a distraction with Rahim, going as far as talking to Desmond directly at times. Desmond always replied with an amused smile.
Meekhal was just as relaxed as usual, laughing and encouraging the other members of their side. His hands were faster than when he was a recruit though and he even managed to keep smiling as he tried to strike Desmond’s neck with his sword. He dropped the sword as he dodged back and Peredur grabbed it as it fell, almost nicking Desmond’s leg. Desmond managed to jump back but he definitely did not expect such a move. Oded would have told them it was an interesting attack but Peredur and Meekhal turned to look at each other and started babbling about how they didn’t expect it to work and ‘holy shit, did I look cool?!’ ‘You looked cool!’ ‘I felt cool!’ and Oded realized that they had grown in many ways and still stayed the same in others.
Oded was glad that not even the things they have seen and done as an Assassin could take away the happiness they had when they were together.
Life as an Assassin was a dangerous painful path.
Oded could only hope that the Assassins he guided and knew would find and treasure the happiness they could find as they walked that path.
Desmond was meant to win in the end.
No matter how good their coordinated attacks were or how many surprises they had in store, Desmond had mastery over one of the most important asset an Assassin must have.
Adaptability.
Desmond instinctively changed the way he moved and act in the heat of battle. His mind processed more than an average Assassin could and he adapted to the changes in battle on his own.
Big plays from Peredur and Hamaal were dealt with defensive stances.
Defensive-focused moves from Amir and Meekhal were taken aback by offensive stances with strikes that sometimes felt less graceful than usual or too precise and cold-hearted.
Quick strikes from Zain were countered by small movements to tire Zain out while keeping his own stamina in check.
Rahim’s words were taken with amusement but he would always be on guard, waiting for the time Rahim saw the ‘moment’ Desmond created to trap him.
The worst part about fighting Desmond was that it was like fighting multiple opponents in one body. The moment his opponent got used to one of his fighting style, Desmond would move to another to counter them.
And against multiple opponents, the effortless way he changed styles made him unpredictable.
Still…
“We did it!!! We fucking did it!!!” Peredur loudly proclaimed as he jumped around, pulling Zain and Rahim into a crushing embrace before dropping all three of them to the floor. Rahim and Zain were laughing as well, catching the infection cheer from Peredur.
Desmond chuckled and tapped his two training swords against their necks as they cheered, making Oded announce, “Peredur, Zain and Rahim have taken 5 points.”
“This round goes to Desmond!”
“We hit you though! We freaking hit you!” Peredur reminded Desmond who nodded.
“Yes, you did.” Desmond agreed with a nod, rubbing the arm that Zain did manage to hit while Peredur and Rahim grabbed Desmond’s legs after he had delivered the final blow to Amir.
It had been… an unusual play, to say the least.
Amir and Meekhal tried to block Desmond while the others went to strike him. Peredur and Rahim dropped to the ground to evade Desmond’s strike while Hamaal took it directly, pretending to slam his side to Zain to make Desmond believe that Zain would lose his balance. Meekhal took the final blow from Desmond’s other sword while Amir charged forward.
With his other sword still being held by Meekhal as he made an overly dramatic choking sound, even going as far as go on his knees, Desmond was forced to use his sword to take down Amir after striking Hamaal on the neck. Desmond’s focus had been on taking down Amir then…
Rahim and Peredur grabbed his legs and Zain struck him just as Amir grabbed his remaining sword as he was hit on the top of the head.
Desmond was stuck and all he could do was block Zain’s attack on his neck by raising his other arm to take the blow.
It was the very first point they had ever gotten against Desmond.
It was a cause for celebration even though that got them eliminated in the end.
Because…
It made Desmond laugh.
…
Oded was still going to scold them because, if it had been a real battle, they had just sacrificed themselves.
But not today.
Watching them laugh and talk to one another with Hamaal saying they should celebrate tonight…
Oded would scold them tomorrow instead.
“Shall we go see your brother, your highness?” Oded asked the boy in his arms who had been quiet the entire time, eyes shining with awe as he stared at his brother.
Jalāl nodded so quickly Oded was momentarily worried he would hurt himself. Oded patted the boy’s back before walking towards the ring, Zain’s cousin following them.
Oded stopped and turned slightly towards the person who had been quietly standing next to him. He raised an eyebrow and Adha blinked before following him as well.
The way she had watched them…
Oded knew she had a lot of questions.
It was Desmond’s duty as her mentor to answer her questions. If she didn’t ask, Oded would push her a bit.
That was his duty as the one responsible in training their recruits.
They left before dawn.
It was for the best. The less people saw them leave, the better.
As far as the Brotherhood was concerned, ‘Peredur’ was escorting Adha to Lambsar Castle. As far as everyone knew, Adha was being sent to Lambsar Castle as part of her training. They even went as far as have Faheem tell the scholars that Peredur would be stationed in Lambsar Castle until the ‘passionate’ letters concerning his latest book died down.
“You know that we’re supposed to leave inconspicuously, right?” Desmond asked when he opened his door, only to be greeted by Rawiya and Khalid waiting for him outside.
“We’ll only escort you until you leave the tower, we promise.” Rawiya said with a grin, peeking inside to the messy room Desmond was leaving behind. All of his batchmates were sprawled on the floor, fast asleep and having taken hold of the many pillows that made up Desmond’s bed.
“Aawww, look at all the sleeping kids.” Rawiya teased lightly, stepping back to let Desmond close the door as he softly hushed him.
“Let them sleep. They’ve only just fallen asleep.” Desmond said softly and the two of them followed Desmond as he began to walk.
“Should I remind Peredur to sleep in your room every night?” Khalid asked lightly as they began to descend the stairs.
“He’ll remember that. I also told them they can sleep in my room to keep Peredur company too.” Desmond said before adding, “Do remind him to only give Aquila two treats before bed.”
“I’ll make sure they don’t spoil your son while you’re away.” Khalid nodded before commenting, “I’m honestly surprised to not see him with you today.”
Desmond sighed before he said, “He left last night. I’m sure this is his way of protesting over the fact that I told him he can’t accompany me this time.”
“You know you could, right?” Rawiya reminded him, “Sure, everyone here knows you have an eagle but it’s not like the two of you are attached on the hip.”
“I don’t know how long it’ll take for us to complete our mission.” Desmond countered, “People would start to notice if ‘Desmond’ doesn’t have his eagle around him sooner or later.”
“Alright but if he runs away to find you, don’t blame us.” Rawiya said with a shrug.
Desmond chuckled but didn’t try to deny the possibility. They finally reached the floor where Adha was staying and Adha was already waiting by the door, wearing the robes of a recruit. The baggy nature of the Assassin robes helped hide her figure and the gray shemagh she used hid her face. She tilted her head towards Desmond but didn’t say anything.
“They’re just escorting us until we leave the tower.” Desmond explained.
She nodded her agreement and Desmond’s lips curved into a smile even though he knew his shemagh would hide it.
“You know you can still speak, right? It’s just us.”
She shrugged before waving her hand and Desmond assumed that was her way of saying she’d rather be cautious.
She could lower her voice if needed but she decided it would be better if she remained as quiet as possible. Her voice was a dead giveaway, especially if she forget to lower it.
“Alright then.” Desmond nodded and continued to descend the tower.
“I’ll have Peredur join me in taking care of the wolfsbane garden outside.” Khalid added as they went down the stairs once more, “The people knows you regularly check it so it would look strange if you stop.”
“You just want to make sure you’re all stocked up in wolfsbane.” Desmond dryly commented, making Khalid laugh.
He didn’t try to deny it though.
“Remind him about the red flowers though.” Desmond said, his voice subconsciously growing softer, “He promised he won’t forget to water them but…”
Desmond rubbed the back of his neck and Khalid’s smile grew softer as he said, “Even if I don’t remind him, Faheem will remind him for you.”
“You should visit them before you go, Desmond.” Rawiya suggested and Desmond refused to look at his direction. His tone was soft but also teasing as he said, “Take one with you.”
Desmond laughed before saying, “I’ll think about it.”
Rawiya and Khalid glanced at each other, knowing full well that…
Desmond would definitely visit those flowers before leaving.
Notes:
I hope that the fight scene was still enjoyable even if it wasn’t a play-by-play scene like last time. I wanted to try doing something different TTATT But, hey, uuhhh, at least, the plot is progressing?
Chapter Text
Safety and peace.
It was the usual greeting the Assassins give to one another. It can mean hello or goodbye.
But it also meant something akin to a prayer.
“I pray for your safety and for your heart to be at peace.”
Sometimes it could also mean…
“I pray for your safety yet, if you are to fall, then I pray that you die in peace.”
No one was sure where the greeting began.
According to Raiza, it had been an evolution to the Hidden Ones’ greeting of “then go in peace” but that was more of her theory with no concrete evidence to support it.
To Desmond Miles, it simply was the greeting he would hear when he relived Altaïr’s memories.
But to him… To Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III…
It made him feel… lighter.
The way Rawiya and Khalid said it as they stayed on the other side of the door.
It felt like a wish.
A prayer to keep him safe.
Desmond quite liked it.
The red flowers Desmond cared for were planted in the garden outside of the mentor’s tower, instead of the gardens in the palace or near the harem.
Desmond had deliberately chosen that empty small piece of land because he could see it from the window of his room.
He had no plans to hide how important the flowers were to him.
Desmond Miles had never received flowers before. He didn’t actually see the point of them. The employee room of Bad Weather would sometimes have a bouquet decorating the table. They were always gifts for the waitresses from one of their customers.
Desmond hated seeing them wilt and die as days go by.
He thought back then that it would have been better if they had been plastic flowers. They wouldn’t wilt, eternally beautiful in its never changing state.
But taking care of these red flowers, feeling the sense of pride and joy when he saw the first sprouts…
Desmond hated bouquets.
But Desmond felt that this small flower bed was better than the eternity promised by plastic flowers. They would bloom and die but they would leave behind a trace of the beauty they showed when they were alive. And that trace would grow in their place and repeat the cycle once more, continuously showing the ephemeral beauty of these flowers as time goes on.
“You must really like these flowers.” Adha commented, keeping her voice soft in case anyone was to hear her.
“Not exactly.” Desmond gently touched one of the flowers, feeling its petals against his skin.
“I treasure them because they were gifted to me.” Desmond admitted vaguely, “He could have gifted me a pile of trash and I would treasure it all the same.”
“Why?” Adha seemed a bit confused and Desmond wondered if she was confused by his admission or because he was willing to tell something so personal to her.
“Because he looked at these flowers and thought of me. It’s proof that, even if it’s just for that single moment, I mattered to him.” Desmond stood and stretched his arms as he said, “Let’s go.”
“Aren’t you going to pick at least one of them?” Adha asked as she stared at him.
“No.” Desmond said with finality, “I don’t need a reminder.”
Desmond turned to look at Adha and, even with the shemagh covering his face, Adha knew that he was smiling.
“I plan on coming back to take care of them after all.”
Desmond didn’t expect him to be waiting by the stables but he should have known. Regardless of how their last conversation went, he wouldn’t just ignore Desmond.
“Come to say goodbye?” Desmond said softly as he raised his arm.
Aquila continued to stay perched on the roof of the stables, making Desmond chuckle. He waved Adha to silently tell her to prepare the horses before he jumped, grabbing the edge of the stable’s roof and pulling himself up.
He sat by the edge of the rooftop and waited. He waited for about two minutes before Aquila hopped to his lap and Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he began to groom the eagle in his lap.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Aquila turned to stare at him and it truly said a lot that Desmond knew what that stare meant.
“No. I said ‘as soon as I can’. It means that we have to prepare for the possibility of it being longer than I want.” Desmond argued, making the eagle let out a sound akin to displeased grumbling.
Desmond leaned forward and closed his eyes, feeling Aquila rub the side of his face against his cheek. He placed a gentle hand on the bird’s back as he whispered, “You take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?”
Aquila let out a cooing sound that made Desmond smile, “I promise I’ll be back soon.”
He leaned back and Aquila hoped off his lap. Desmond petted Aquila’s head as he asked lightly, “You help Peredur while I’m gone, okay?”
Aquila turned to look at him and Desmond couldn’t help but think that Aquila was trying to silently tell him that he would make sure Peredur wouldn’t screw up.
“Thanks, Aquila.” Desmond said, even though he didn’t think Peredur would screw it up. He made sure he had a lot of people they trust supporting him as well. Still, he appreciated the sentiment. He stood once he saw Adha had taken both of their horses out of the stable. Aquila flapped his wings and landed on his shoulder, letting out a cooing sound as he rubbed the side of his face against Desmond’s temple.
Desmond leaned towards him as he whispered, “Upon you as well, ya zaghtour.”
“We’ll follow the merchants’ usual route until we pass the road leading to Al-Salihiyah.” Desmond said once they took a break to eat lunch and let their horses rest. They were making good headway without tiring their horses and Adha had even caught their lunch for today. There were enough meat left for dinner as well.
Her cuts weren’t as perfect as Desmond's but it was a good third try, all things considered. The fire in her eyes when she noted how ‘crude’ her cuts were made Desmond realize just how deep her competitive streak could be as well. For some reason, he could just see her and Altaïr being kids and competing with one another when they play.
A vague memory from his Bleed or just his overactive imagination?
“Is there any reason why we won’t continue to Damascus? We’d have to restock on our supplies and Damascus would have more merchants.” Adha asked before taking a bite of the grilled meat.
“The crusaders has squads hiding beyond Al-Salihiyah that we should avoid and I’d rather we stay as far away from Ḥalab as we can.” Desmond answered as he poked the fire they made with a stick, “I received reports that Rashid is in the stronghold in Ḥalab.”
Adha frowned at him, “The old man left the mountains?”
Desmond shrugged as he commented, “Apparently.”
“I can’t even imagine it.” Adha said lightly as she threw the stick into the fire, having finished her meal.
Desmond didn’t blame her.
Had the report not been a coded message given to Hamaal when his team was near Ḥalab, Desmond would have doubted the validity of the message. It had been the messenger who suggested they do not enter Ḥalab and they heeded the messenger’s warning because Hamaal recognized him.
He was one of the guards that always followed the sultan of Ḥalab.
And Desmond recognized the handwriting of the coded message. It was az-Zahir’s.
Masyaf’s presence in Ḥalab had grown, according to him. It seemed that the rumors of Desmond being the Chalice had reached al-Sham and, with the news of his ‘status’ was the heightened presence of crusaders around the roads regularly used by merchants. Rashid's Assassins were only ‘reacting’ to the presence of the crusaders because there was the chance that the crusaders would start attacking the merchants around those parts.
Desmond would call that a sorry excuse but then again, the death of Adha’s father and their traveling merchant group had been because crusaders had attacked those routes.
Unofficially, of course.
Desmond couldn’t even remember what happened in the original timeline other than Altaïr being reunited by Adha while he was searching for the Chalice before losing her and finding her already dead afterwards.
All he could do was guess that, in the original timeline, Adha would have done as Minerva instructed and ran away, losing trust in Alamut because of her distant relationship with the Assassins and her own aunt.
Maybe she might even feel betrayed by them, turning her grief over her father’s death to distrust to the organization that should have protected them.
He knew his parents well enough to know that they would have tried to look for Adha once they learned of the death of her father.
The rumors of the power of the Chalice though…
Desmond believed the Templars were the ones who started the search when they reached al-Sham, not because they knew Adha was a Chalice or that the Chalice was actually supposed to be some kind of title for those who had Minerva’s blood but because of the legends of Holy Chalice that Jesus supposedly used during the Last Supper.
At the very least, that was the ‘Chalice’ that the Templars were using to mask their true objective. They probably believed the real Chalice was some kind of POE. Adha probably heard the rumors while she was on the run and accidentally made someone suspicious of her connection with the Chalice. That connection was the main reason why the Templars hunted her and how her path intersected with Altaïr.
But now…
Desmond had changed the entire thing by making himself bait.
Everyone knew or expected him to be in Alamut and the crusaders wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and lay siege to it. Not without a proper supply line at the very least.
As long as they believed that he was in Alamut, the crusaders would continue to stay around those roads, waiting to strike. Rashid's Assassins would do their job in keeping them in check together with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s forces around that area.
While Desmond and Adha make their way to Iram…
They needed to take the merchants' usually route because it was the safest of the three according to the reports. Beyond Al-Salihiyah, they risked both the heightened crusader presence and Rashid's Assassins finding them.
Honestly, Desmond would have preferred not to travel that route but the other two routes held more danger than this route. Directly journeying south was more dangerous as they risked the possibility of being attacked while sailing the Gulf of Fars. Not using that route and traveling inland meant less secured roads with terrains prime for ambushes and the risk of not having enough provisions before they reach the next city or village to restock.
“The man who gave you those flowers to plant…”
Desmond froze.
“… is he betrothed to someone else?”
Oh.
Well…
This was awkward.
‘Yeah, he’s supposed to be your fiance, small world, huh? I guess ex-fiance now???’
There was no way he could say that.
Adha would immediately realized it was Altaïr.
‘No but he’ll fall in love with a Templar 1 year from now.’
Yeah…
He also couldn’t say that.
Not when there was a huge chance that Adha would learn the seeds were from Altaïr and then she’d be suspicious to why Desmond believed Altaïr would fall in love with a Templar.
“It’s…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he sighed, “… complicated.”
He did not appreciate the raised eyebrow that Adha gave him.
“Our current circumstances prevents us from being together.” Desmond explained vaguely, not bothering to add that he was deliberately making it more complicated than it had to be.
He had the chance of taking Altaïr for himself, on chaining Altaïr to him last year.
He could have agreed to Altaïr pledging allegiance to Alamut back then and kept him in Alamut, Rashid’s ‘objections’ be damned.
Altaïr had been serious with his offer and Desmond knew that he could just as easily make Altaïr fall deeper in love with him while he kept him in Alamut.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t risk the possibility that changing the past might make it impossible for Desmond Miles to exist and, in theory, for him to disappear.
He wasn’t scared of disappearing.
He was scared of hurting Altaïr with his disappearance, especially now that Altaïr cared for him. It would simply be cruel.
He couldn’t bear the thought of Altaïr feeling the pain of losing someone he loved.
“I’m sure if you ask Altaïr, he’d transfer to Alamut in a heartbeat.”
“It’s not that sim-”
Desmond stopped.
He stared at Adha, feeling a sense of dread and the start of a headache.
Not once did he say Altaïr’s name.
Adha stared back, lips curving into a teasing smile.
“I read the books. It was quite enlightening… especially the last book.” Adha said in a light teasing tone before commenting, “The ending was awful though. I can see why Peredur has been hiding in Alamut ever since the last book was published.”
Desmond’s lips twitched as he asked nicely, “Did Khalid give you a copy?”
Khalid was the only person Desmond could think of that would intentionally give Adha a copy as a way to tease Desmond.
Although he wouldn’t count Peredur out of the running yet. Peredur could have given her the books in an attempt to keep Adha from developing feelings for Desmond or Altaïr… not that Adha wanted to develop such feelings. She had made it clear that marriage in her eyes was not about love but security.
Adha’s smile grew as she replied, “Uncle Faheem did.”
Oh.
Desmond’s brain actually stopped working for a moment, unable to comprehend why Faheem Al-Sayf of all people would give Adha those books.
Then he remembered that he was one of the main reasons of Faheem’s headache because of his association with both Khalid (headache origin number one) and Peredur (headache origin number two).
There was no other reasons why Faheem would do this other than…
Petty vengeance.
Iram of the Pillars.
Another translation to its title was Iram of the Tentpoles.
There was only one scholar interested about Iram in Alamut and his interest lied more on lost cities and locations with Iram simply being one of many lost cities in his sights.
It appeared in the Quran once and, from what Desmond could gather, the city had been destroyed by Allah’s will for the people had spread ‘corruption’.
There were a lot of ways to interpret it, especially now that Minerva had shown to have a direct connection to it.
Minerva called it the city of pillars, meaning that it was a location, not a tribe like one of the theories suggested. The glowing memory seal showed them where to look.
The question was…
What was the ‘corruption’ that the Quran talked about?
Desmond’s initial idea was that the city fell because of the Solar Flare. A natural disaster turned into an act of a god due to the mutation of thoughts and ideas as time continued to move.
But… that didn’t make sense. Minerva had planned to go to the city of pillars after the Solar Flare. This meant she knew or, at the very least, expected it to withstand the Great Catastrophe in some shape or form.
It was possible that the power source in the city was also damaged like in Alamut’s underground Isu facility. The damage seemed to have made Minerva sick so it was possible that the sickness was the ‘corruption’ that the Quran talked about.
Or…
He was overanalyzing everything.
For all he knew, it was mentioned in the Quran as something that had been destroyed to cover up its existence in the first place.
A way to keep it safe from the eyes of other people who could use whatever was inside the city for nefarious plans.
Perhaps Minerva even ensured that Iram would remain hidden, all in an attempt to make sure Desmond would be the first person to find it.
He supposed he would find the answers soon enough as they reached a high vantage point that gave them a clear view of the dessert below them.
Their journey to Iram was uneventful more or less. Aquila wasn’t there to recon for them so they had to be much more cautious while traveling even with Desmond’s Eagle Vision. Their travel did make Adha’s own Eagle Vision grow as she could now keep it activated while moving. It only last for three seconds but it was already better than the minimum requirement of the Brotherhood of being able to use the Eagle Vision for three seconds while they weren’t moving.
With enough practice, Adha could lengthen her activation time. He did have to remind her to be patient more than once as she had the habit of forcing herself to get her desired results as soon as possible.
The most dangerous thing to have happened in their travels was almost encountering a crusader patrol while they were crossing the desert near Tadmur. Thanks to Khalid’s information, they were able to avoid them using the route Khalid had used regularly in his childhood back when he was still living in Tadmur.
After that… the hot days and cold nights were the worst of their enemies during their journey.
“We’re not making a stop in Al-Yaman.” Desmond announced as he looked at the map he had packed with an invisible mark that could only be seen when using the Eagle Vision that showed the general location of where they should look for Iram, “Our supplies can last us for a few days. We can’t risk the possibility of people of Al-Yaman recognizing us or remembering us enough to point which direction we took after restocking.”
“It wouldn’t be worth it anyway. We’ll have to cross the desert to get to Al-Yaman.” Adha noted, “Then return to the desert afterwards. We’ll lose more supplies before we can restock.”
Desmond chuckled before saying lightly, “I guess we’re sleeping outside again.”
“If we’re lucky, we can hunt down an animal to cook before the sun sets so we won’t use our rations.” Adha commented.
“If we’re lucky…” Desmond repeated with a grin, “Just tell me you want to hunt again, Adha. I won’t judge.”
“I’ll take my next prey down with one shot.” Adha promised with eyes gleaming with determination and stubbornness.
“I’m sure you will.” Desmond agreed.
Notes:
I couldn't include it in the narration because Desmond didn't know it but one of the reasons why the Templars could push for the search of the Chalice was because Perceval, the Story of the Grail had been published by this time and they used it to their advantage to gain support. It's a bit questionable if Chrétien de Troyes is a Templar or was only used by the Templars though.
Chapter 56
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Head’s up!
Next update will be on March 13, Wednesday, to celebrate Desmond’s birthday together with an AltDes 10k-ish oneshot and the third part of the Pet Basim series (because I finished AC Mirage XD)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Food turned out to be the dried roots and vegetables they had in stock, cooked in a pot over fire, with herbs and spices Desmond had specifically packed to ensure they wouldn’t suffer the torture of eating bland food. They found no animals to hunt, the only other living beings they passed by being scorpions and a few rodents that scurried faster than the disgusting expression that clouded Adha’s face when Desmond joked that they could eat them if she hunted those.
They made camp underneath a large rock that protruded above the sands, providing them cover in case of rain and a bit of protection from the bitter winds at night. Desmond’s map had been marked with the general location of the few small settlements scattered in the desert that they noticed back in the high vantage point they stopped by first before continuing their journey. Desmond made sure to avoid them, not because he believed they were dangerous or possible enemies but because he’d rather not have anyone remember them journeying here at all.
They would see the smoke from their fire but that couldn’t be helped.
“Strange.” Desmond mumbled as he double-checked the map, more out of boredom as they waited for their dinner to cook than actually thinking he might have missed something.
Adha continued to clean her dagger with a clean piece of cloth as she asked, “Is something wrong?”
“I’m not sure yet but…” Desmond handed the map to Adha as he said, “The settlements we saw aren’t in any pattern or anything. They’re all pretty scattered and far away from one another but…”
Desmond waited.
Adha looked at the map for a moment before she realized, “There’s a specific part of the desert that there’s no settlement at all… and it’s where we’re headed.”
Desmond nodded.
Good, she noticed it immediately.
“Do you think it’s connected?” Adha asked as she returned the map to Desmond who folded it and returned it to one of his pouches.
“Maybe…” Desmond answered, not liking the fact that he wasn’t sure about what they’d find, “We should be extra careful tomorrow. Maybe the locals know something is dangerous in that area or…”
“There are dangerous people lurking in that area.” Adha finished and Desmond nodded at her.
“We should sleep in shifts.” Desmond suggested, taking the ladle and stirring the pot twice before taking one of the bowls they bought with them.
Adha let out a small scoff before dryly saying, “We always sleep in shifts. I’m taking the first shift.”
Desmond opened his mouth as he handed the bowl to Adha but she cut him off while taking the bowl from him, “No. The last time you took the first shift, you didn’t wake me up.”
Desmond stared at her with such a fake innocent expression on his face that Adha just rolled her eyes and grabbed the ladle to add more vegetables in his bowl, “Eat then go to sleep, Vega.”
Desmond looked at his bowl, now close to overflowing thanks to the additional roots and vegetables that Adha had added.
“You shouldn’t sleep after eating a big meal.” Desmond said half-heartedly.
“I’ll spar with you later.”
Desmond opened his mouth to argue but seeing Adha just staring at him with a look that just screamed ‘just eat’ made him rethink his course of actions. He let out a small chuckle before eating.
Figures his first disciple would be a stubborn one.
The desert was large enough that Desmond couldn’t even see the end in the horizon even after they had been traveling for the entirety of yesterday. They packed everything up after the sky started to lighten and ate a few pieces of dry meat and hard bread for breakfast.
Three hours passed and they were still kilometers away from the mark that the memory seal made in the holographic map back in Alamut.
There was nothing strange happening though, no reasons he could find to why the settlements in the desert avoided the area.
They traveled to the highest point of a large dune and he stopped his horse with Adha stopping hers a second later when she noticed him stopping as he said to Adha, “Let’s go slow.”
“Alright.” Adha agreed as their horses slowly made their way down.
The path ahead of them was descending ever so slightly, if they weren’t careful, their horses could start skidding downward which would be very dangerous.
In the middle of their journey to just get to a flatter ground, they were suddenly shrouded in the middle of a fierce sandstorm.
“What the fu-” Desmond closed his mouth, feeling the sand hit his shemagh. The sandstorm seemed to surround them and the horses let out distressed neighs as they began to panic.
“Get off your horse!” Desmond ordered and they quickly jumped off their horses, keeping a hold of the horses’ reins as they tried to calm their horses down while trying not to get hit by their legs.
The horses resisted them much more than what should be noted as usual and Desmond just had this feeling that something had spooked them and the sudden sandstorm surrounding them wasn’t the actual origin of their distress.
“Vega!”
“I know! Take off the bags!” Desmond ordered and they quickly unclasped the supply bags from the horses before letting them go. The bags dropped the ground but that was fine, the sand cushioned their fall. The horses let out a whining neigh before running off and Desmond wasn’t even sure if they had ran back the way they came or in some other random direction.
“Get the bags!” Desmond shouted as he grabbed the bag nearest to him. He used the straps to secure the bag on his back and Adha did the same thing. Once he was sure Adha had secured the other bag on her back, he offered his hand to her.
Visibility was shot to shit and the sandstorm threatened to blind them. Adha grabbed his hand without any hesitation and Desmond shouted, “We have to keep moving!”
Turning back would be the safest option but they couldn’t do that.
Even if they were to turn back, all that would lead to was lost time.
The sandstorm wasn’t natural.
Whatever created it also spooked the horses.
Which meant…
They were going in the right direction.
Probably.
Was Desmond being too risky?
Yes.
He knew that.
But he had to be.
This was his only lead.
The only tangible lead he had to know what he could or could not do here in the past.
The only answer he might ever have to what kind of future he would be allowed to have here in the time he found himself in.
“Vega!” Adha called out to him, “Over there!”
Desmond turned to where Adha was pointing but he couldn’t see anything. Still, he went in the direction Adha pointed, trusting her to lead them.
Whether it was because Adha saw something he didn’t or something else…
At this point, Desmond would take anything.
Adha led them to a ruined town in the middle of the sandstorm. They took cover inside the closest building that still had a roof above it and walls to keep out the sand. The doorway was open and there was no sign of a door at all, whether intentional or the results of the sands swallowing any evidence of a door being there once upon a time, Desmond couldn’t be sure.
Still, the building was sturdy enough to keep the storm out as they rushed to the other side of the room, as far away from the door and the single open window as they could. They coughed as they tried to get their breathing to normal, patting the sands off their clothes and taking off their shemagh to shake the sand off. They sat on the floor and grabbed one of the three waterskins strapped to the bag on their backs and drank a bit of water.
“Wanna bet if this is Iram?” Desmond asked lightly after he strapped the waterskin back to his bag once more.
Adha took a deep breath before shaking her head, “It can’t be that easy.”
Desmond chuckled and got up, offering his hand to Adha who quickly took it. He pulled her up at the same time she tried to get up and they let go of each other’s hands once she was back on her feet.
Desmond looked around the building they were in for any clues to where they were and saw… stairs?
Desmond walked towards the hole on the ground to their right and frowned when he saw the first two steps of stairs, the rest already swallowed by the sand.
A basement perhaps?
He looked around. The building itself was sparse with pieces of broken wood that could have once been a table and two or three chairs.
An open doorway with no sense of there being a door at all.
A single window…
Stairs that led to a lower floor.
“This isn’t the first floor.” Desmond realized.
“What?” Adha turned to face him as her brows furrowed.
“I think we’re in the top floor of some kind of building.” Desmond said, walking towards the open window. The storm made it hard to see anything but…
“Maybe this was a guard tower.” Desmond guessed, “The only window and doorway leads out of the ruins… like it was meant to survey those approaching from this direction.”
It was a flimsy guess.
If it was truly a guard tower, it would make more sense if there were many windows unless…
There was no need to check the other directions.
“We’re in the ruins of something that has been swallowed by the sands.” Adha said with a slight frown as she wrapped her shemagh around her head once more.
Desmond nodded and wrapped his shemagh around his head as well before saying, “We should check the other buildings.”
“Vega…” Adha halted before she pulled her hood up as she asked in a small voice, “What if… what if the road leading to Iram has already been swallowed as well?”
“It’s not.” Desmond said calmly as he pulled his hood up as well. He took a deep breath to quiet the whispers in his mind agreeing with Adha’s worry, “There’s a way to Iram…”
“Minerva would make sure of it.”
The sandstorm made it hard for them to check the other ruins. They tied a rope around their waists to be sure that they wouldn’t get separated. It slowed down their progress but this was safer for both of them. The rope was also better than the two of them holding hands. They didn’t have any problems holding hands but having two hands was still a better choice when it came to surveying the area.
They took a break in one of the ruins to eat lunch and Desmond had a feeling it used to be some sort of bedroom with a broken door that led to a hallway and the signs of a staircase leading downward, barred by sand.
It led more credence to Desmond’s guess that this ruin was slowly being covered by sand.
After their break, they continued deeper into the ruins and finally found the largest building.
Or…
the roof of the largest building, to be more precise.
From the outside, it looked like the tip of a dome so they tried climbing on top of it, trying to find some kind of opening.
There was a gap to the left of the dome and after using Desmond’s dagger to try and pry it open, it turned out to be a window of some kind that could be opened. It creaked as it moved and Desmond lit his torch while it was inside whatever building they were in front of so the sandstorm wouldn’t snuff the flame out and let it fall, giving them an idea of what to expect as it fell to the ground.
By Desmond’s estimate, the torch fell about four to five floors.
But more importantly…
There didn’t seemed to be any sand inside.
“I’ll go first.” Desmond said as he untied the rope around his waist. Adha did the same and waited as Desmond tied one end to top of the dome where a tall antenna-like structure was still standing tall. Desmond tried to pull it twice and it didn’t budge so Desmond was going to take that as a sign that it would hold his weight. Once the rope was secured, he dropped the other end of the rope. It didn’t even reach a quarter of the way down.
But it was enough.
“Remember what I do and copy it.” Desmond instructed before he dropped down using the rope. He dropped down slowly until he was near the head of the statue nearest to him. It took a moment before Desmond realized it was a statue of Juno.
He hoped it wasn’t a sign and, really, if he could, he would pick one of the other two statues instead but hers were the nearest to him. He started to sway, slowly gaining speed and the rope’s swaying started to catch some distance. Once he was sure he would make it, he jumped off the rope and landed on top of Juno’s statue.
Unfortunately for him, the veil on Juno’s statue was still smooth and he started skidding downward, “Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!”
He jumped off the veil and landed on Juno’s left arm as it stretched forward as if offering something. He ran towards her palm and jumped off the shawl-like clothing she wore around her arms, kicking it to propel himself to her dress. The flow of her dress gave the statue enough of an angle that Desmond could slide down using it without the fear of accidentally falling to his death. Once he was near the end of the dress, he kicked off the impromptu ride and landed on the pedestal her statue was on.
From there, he raised his head and shouted, “Take your time, Adha!”
He jumped off the pedestal and kept an eye on the roof, watching Adha follow his steps. She didn’t make any panicked sounds like he did (he didn’t expect it!) and managed to jump to Juno’s arm before quickly using her shawl to get to the dress slide. Desmond waited until Adha jumped off the dress and landed on the pedestal before he started to look around. Adha walked towards him and said, “That’s Minerva.”
Desmond hummed, knowing Adha was talking about the statue to their right.
“Juno.” Desmond pointed at the statue in front of them then pointed at the statue directly in front of Juno’s statue, “Tinia.”
“They’re called the Capitoline Triad.” Desmond explained, wondering just how much he should explain.
The place they were in looked like it was build for the three statues.
“They were worshiped as gods.” Adha commented.
Desmond wasn’t so sure about that.
Juno would definitely want to be worshiped as one but Minerva and Tinia didn’t seemed the type.
Then again, he only knew Tinia from that one message he left behind in Altaïr’s last memory seal so he didn’t really know all that much about Tinia.
Minerva though…
Minerva’s pedestal was the only one with two statues around Desmond's size guarding in front of it, holding a shield in front of them in one hand and a spear on the other. Minerva’s statue itself had both of her hands pointing in front of her with open palms where there was a wall decorated by engravings of a stylized V with hooks at the end that curled inwards and a circle closing around the V. Desmond couldn’t be sure but the decoration looked like they were made of brass. He walked towards them to take a closer look but froze when he was just an arm’s length.
It wasn’t brass.
It was made of the same metal as the Apple.
“Adha… come here.” Desmond said and Adha walked towards him.
“Did you find something?”
“Maybe.” Desmond said as he raised his hand, “Don’t touch me but stay near me… just… in case.”
Adha took a step back, understanding how serious Desmond was right now.
He placed a hand on the circle and just as smooth as the Apple had been when he held it all those years ago.
It was also strangely warm.
… but nothing happened.
He waited for a minute before he dropped his hand.
“Okay. I really thought something would happen.” Desmond admitted, actually a bit embarrassed over the fact that nothing happened.
“But you might be onto something…” Adha said as she walked towards the left, standing just at the other side of the circle. She leaned close, her cheek just an inch away from the wall, and said, “There’s a small gap between whatever this circular thing is and the wall.”
“Could it be hiding a secret passage?” Desmond mused out loud, looking around. The decoration on the wall wasn’t just the circle and the stylized V, there were lines made of the same metal all over the wall, reminding Desmond of the lines etched on the Apple.
They seemed to converge into two different points on either end of the wall, flowing downward into…
“Adha… follow the lines on your side.” Desmond said as he walked towards the other end of the wall.
As he had expected…
“There’s a small hole here.” Adha said.
“There’s one here too.” Desmond said.
The lines flowed downward and continued to the floor ending a few meters away from the pedestal of Tinia’s statue. He turned to look at Adha and she was standing parallel to where he was, her distance to Juno’s statue the same as his distance to Tinia’s.
So there were two holes of the same distance to both the wall and the statues.
If they were supposed to drop two POEs in it, they were screwed.
No.
Minerva would have said if they needed a POE to get inside.
“Should I try dropping my blood in the hole?” Adha suggested and Desmond frowned.
It was possible that Adha’s blood was the key but then…
Why were there two holes?
And the hole wasn’t that big, if anything…
Desmond’s eyes widened in realization.
It was big enough for a blade to go through the hole.
Notes:
The general location of Iram in this fic is heavily inspired by Iram’s location in Uncharted 3. They did combine both Ubar (Atlantis of the Sands) and Iram (City of Pillars) in that one but it’s generally accepted that they’re two completely different lost ‘cities/location/tribes’. Iram and Ubar aren’t the same as well in this fic but we’re not going to focus on Ubar. Iram’s location is simply set there because I wanted the Uncharted 3 reference together with Desmond’s “Oh crap, oh crap” moment. XD
Chapter 57
Notes:
This chapter is not unbeta'ed because of RL.
This is part of this year's Desmond's BDay Celebration Posting together with the a childhood sweetheart AltDes oneshot, a continuation of the Pet Basim series and a short PWP set after Shadow's Endgame
Chapter Text
The first thing Desmond thought about was the hidden blade.
Minerva could have predicted that Desmond was going to become an Assassin again and made the holes fit the hidden blade.
But there was just a problem with that…
Adha wasn’t an Assassin which meant she did not a hidden blade.
This could only mean the hidden blade was not the key.
Unless Minerva believed that Desmond would bring another Assassin with him.
No.
The Minerva Desmond had in his head did not rely on luck and belief.
Desmond looked around.
She would have left the keys-
Desmond stopped as he stared at Minerva’s statue.
No.
Beneath the statue…
“The spears the statues are holding. They would fit these holes.” Desmond said and Adha’s eyes widened. They quickly returned to Minerva’s statue and they both grabbed the spear from the statue.
“Fuck!” Adha shouted (and Desmond winced because that was definitely his influence) when both the statues moved after they grabbed the spear.
“Get back!” Desmond shouted and they both jumped back, Adha already nocking an arrow and aiming her bow at the same time Desmond unsheathed his sword.
The statues’ movements were jerky and they could hear the creaking of the gears inside them as they slowly went down on one knee, slamming the shield into the ground and offering the spear with both of their hands as they bowed their heads. The floor underneath the shields glowed and lines appeared on the ground, as if it was slowly being filled by the light from underneath the shields. The lines converged back into the holes and Desmond looked at Adha who stared at him back.
Well…
That did something?
He shrugged and they both cautiously walked towards the statues with Adha still aiming her arrow at them while Desmond slowly reached out a hand.
He grabbed one of the spear and tried to take it but the hands of the statues clamped down on it, stopping Desmond. Desmond let out an annoyed grunt and looked at the other statue that was still in its initial kneeling position.
“Maybe it wants us to take the spear at the same time?” Adha suggested.
“Yeah, probably. Take your dagger out.” Desmond ordered as Adha placed the arrow back in her quiver. She unsheathed her dagger before reaching out of the other spear. She grabbed it and they waited.
Nothing happened. Adha turned to look at him and he nodded. Adha slowly pulled the spear out of the hands of the statue. The moment the spear left the hands on the statue, the hands holding the spear that Desmond was holding opened and he pulled it out as well.
They took a few steps back and waited if the statues would move.
They didn’t.
They slowly made their way back to the holes and stood in front of the holes, turning to face one another.
“Tip or bottom?” Adha asked and Desmond shrugged.
“Let’s try tip first ‘cause, you know… it’s like we’re stabbing the floor?” Desmond suggested and Adha shrugged this time around.
It wasn’t like they had any clue to help them decide.
The spear was slim enough that both the blade and the bottom could fit the holes.
“On the count of three.” Desmond said because he had a feeling part of this entire ‘puzzle’ had to be done in unison, if the statues were any indication.
“We go on three or we go after three?” Adha asked, her voice holding a hint of teasing.
Desmond chuckled as he said, “We go on three.”
Adha nodded and waited as Desmond counted, “One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
They both slammed the spear into the holes.
The holes began to glow as they slowly swallowed the spears, making Desmond and Adha let go. The light began to move towards the lines on the floor then to the wall before…
The circle and the V began to glow.
They could hear the creaking inside the walls and…
The floor?
As the circle began to turn together with the V inside it, Desmond and Adha turned around and saw the floor between the three statues turn as well, slowly opening in the middle. The floor itself was turning into stairs. The walls below began to emit a soft glow, showing a winding stairs made of the parts of the floor.
Desmond walked towards the hole and saw the ground of the floor beneath them and there seemed to be some kind of tunnel leading deeper.
“Desmond.” Adha called out and Desmond turned to look back at the circle that they had thought was the secret passage.
The V had turned upside down, showing…
“It’s the Brotherhood’s insignia.” Adha said and turned to look at Desmond as she asked, “Does this mean-”
“No.” Desmond shook his head, “Humans created the Brotherhood, not them. This…”
The mechanisms to open the secret passageway.
The necessity of two people to perform the correct steps.
The keys to open the hidden path being in front of Minerva’s statue.
The inverted insignia pointing down.
The statues weren’t made of the same metal as the Apple but the bigger statues, the lines, and the Assassin insignia…
They were made from the same metal.
Whatever this place had been before, Minerva had modified it.
“Minerva left this for us.”
The stairs continued for quite a while, long enough for the small pieces of light from the room above to slowly dim, engulfing them in shadows.
Or they would have had Desmond and Adha not have torches to illuminate their way.
Desmond still used his Eagle Vision just to be sure that there was no surprises waiting for them.
The only interesting glow in his Eagle Vision was Adha’s blue glow coming from behind him.
Still, they couldn’t afford to relax just yet. The stairs were sturdy, sure, but they couldn’t be sure about what lies below these stairs.
The Grand Temple had been filled with debris with many paths already blocked and evidence of cave-ins that had happened in the past. Seeing them had always made Desmond worry that the cave would drop down while they were there and take both the Grand Temple and them down.
Then again…
The vault in the coliseum had been in an okay shape so there was a chance that Iram could be of a similar condition as the vault than the Grand Temple.
Hopefully.
After the stairs, they were led to a tunnel that had lines all over that lightly glowed. Desmond could feel a burst of air every now and then from the glowing lines and he assumed it was letting out oxygen.
Whatever the condition of Iram was at the moment, it had oxygen at the very least.
The tunnel ended with two grand doors made of some kind of metal that showed myriads of colors when their torches’ light touch them.
The lock looked like some kind of circular mechanism that reminded Desmond of a rotary dial. Trying to find some kind of code would have been annoying but Desmond’s Eagle Vision already gave him the hint Minerva left.
Just above the doors were glowing scripts, written in Arabic.
“Your death.” Adha read as her eyes glowed, showing she was also using her Eagle Vision, most probably to find any clue to help them open the door. She blinked, unable to use the Eagle Vision for far too long and turned to look at Desmond as she asked, “What did that mean? ‘Your death’?”
“It’s a date.” Desmond said, “The supposed date their sacrificial lamb would die.”
Adha frowned as Desmond reached a hand out to the rotary dial.
He wasn’t sure if it wanted the exact date or what the pattern was but when the tip of his fingers touched the rotary dial, he felt bumps on the center of the dial. He traced the bumps.
Two rectangles, a slash, two rectangles, another slash, and four consecutive rectangles.
The complete date then.
Which would go first though? The month or the date?
He checked the first four rectangles for any clues and found an etching underneath the first rectangle. It felt like the Isu script for ‘m’. The format would be month-date-year then. The Isu’s word for month also started with an ‘m’ and was the basis of the Latin word for month… according to Shaun.
Desmond was never sure if he was being serious or if he had been fucking with Desmond. Either way, month-date-year format would be his best guess for now.
Desmond began to use the rotary dial as Adha watched him silently. He knew Adha would have questions but he hoped she wouldn’t ask them.
“Who’s their sacrificial lamb?”
Of course she did.
“A man who will be born centuries from now.” Desmond answered, “He will sacrifice his life to save the world from the Solar Flare that destroyed Minerva’s kind.”
And the countless humans and living beings in the planet during that time.
“Someone like her?”
“No.” Desmond shook his head, “He’s human like the rest of us.”
Adha hummed and Desmond took a step back after the rotary dial took the number 12212012. The rotary dial began to turn on its own before stopping. It slowly moved upward. The moment it reached the top, they heard a loud metallic click.
“What an unfortunate man.” Adha commented, making Desmond glance at her.
The rotary dial began to turn counterclockwise and the grand doors before them slowly opened.
“To be given the destiny to die for the world… it’s an awful fate to give to anyone.” Adha said.
“You should think about that, Adha.” Desmond said quietly, making Adha turn to look at him. He kept his eyes on the doors in front of them, “Becoming an Assassin means that you should be prepared to give your life to save others.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.” Adha said, making Desmond blink as he finally turned to look at her.
“Really?” Desmond asked, unable to stop his brows from furrowing.
“You look like the type of person who would find a way to save everyone without sacrificing yourself.” Adha said so casually it made Desmond lose his ability to talk for a second.
“I am?” Desmond croaked.
Adha nodded as she added, “You know that so many people care for you and would grieve your death… you’re too kind to make them go through that pain.”
Desmond froze at those words.
In front of them, the doors finally opened completely.
Adha’s eyes widened and her breath hitched, walking to the other side of the door while Desmond continued to stare at where Adha had been standing.
Adha was wrong.
He had given his life to save the world.
He had already showed that he was willing to die for the world.
But…
You’re too kind to make them go through that pain.
Those words…
Could he… could he do it again if he had to?
He wanted to say yes.
He had thought he would be able to for so long.
He had been prepared to but…
The reason why he was stopping himself from changing Altaïr’s future was because of the risk that changing it would kill him.
He thought he was fine with that.
But was he?
Was he truly fine with dying?
He wanted to say yes.
But Adha said he wasn’t.
Adha believed he wouldn’t sacrifice himself.
Because-
“Desmond!” Adha called out to him and he turned to look at what she was looking at, his own eyes widening just like hers as he saw what lied on the other side of the doors.
He stepped out and saw Iram.
The City of Pillars.
It was an underground city…
Enormous pillars stretched to the ceiling all over the city and Desmond wondered if they were the reason why this entire city hadn’t caved in.
The ceiling was made of kind of metal that Desmond wasn’t sure of but, if he had to guess, it had to be a metal that the Isus used. There was a shine to it that reminded Desmond of LED screens or glass.
Something in between?
Perhaps it used to be able to light up, to mimic the day and night cycle of the land above them.
Now it only seemed to give some kind of glass-like light that illuminated the entire city.
They had arrived in what seemed to be the entrance, leading to a short bridge with water still flowing underneath.
Flowing water?
“We need a vantage point.” Desmond said and Adha nodded.
They needed to get a lay of the land.
They climbed the nearest tower to their left and Desmond realized that the pillars were stationed equidistant to one another in what looked like a hexagonal grid-like pattern.
And the water flowed in a hexagonal grid pattern as well, meaning a pillar was in every intersection of the water flowing all over Iram. Each portion of land around the pillars had small bridges to connect them to each other and Desmond counted twenty identical buildings on each of them.
It felt like a huge oversight. The continuous flow of water would slowly destroy the part of the pillars submerged in it.
Or… at the very least, that was what should be happening but the pillars’ themselves were made of some sort of material that Desmond was unfamiliar with.
It didn’t have the warmth of the Apple’s metal nor was it made of the same smooth material that made up the statues from the room above them.
And he could hear the sound of roaring water inside the pillars.
Desmond wasn’t sure if the pillars were being used to filter ground water from somewhere or, the stranger possibility that he wouldn’t be surprised if Minerva’s people did do something similar, these pillars were used to keep the water flowing all around Iram clean, filtering it and keeping it flowing. Kinda similar to how fountains in the future would reuse the water by continuously filtering it.
But in a much grander scale.
“Let’s not drink the water.” Desmond said as he sighed, “We don’t know if it’s clean.”
“It looks clean.” Adha commented and it said a lot about how much he knew her that he knew she wasn’t trying to argue with him, just telling him what she observed.
“Yeah but looking clean and actually being clean are two different things.” Desmond reminded her as he continued to crouch at the edge of one curling decorations of the pillar’s capital. Each pillar had the same decorations of the pillars and it reminded Desmond of breaking waves in the sea during stormy weather.
“Then I suppose we’re not going to take a leap of faith from here?” Adha asked curiously.
“Nah.” Desmond shook his head as he looked down.
He wasn’t even sure if the flowing water below them could break their fall without hurting them.
“We’re going down the boring way.” Desmond dryly said before looking at the overview of Iram once more, “But before that, see anything interesting?”
“They all look the same.” Adha said and Desmond nodded. Every building looked the same. Same height, same size…
It was too uniform to be a coincidence.
“I think they’re meant to be homes but…” Adha frowned.
“They’re shelters.”
“Shelters?” Adha asked with a slight tilt of her head and Desmond nodded.
“I think this place was meant to shelter people from the Solar Flare.” Desmond guessed, rubbing the back of his head, “We have to check some of the buildings later but I think they weren’t used.”
“Why not?” Adha asked, “From Minerva’s message, it sounded like this Solar Flare had destroyed so much and killed a lot of people. Why wouldn’t they use this place to escape?”
“Something about this place isn’t right.” Desmond said solemnly, “Every plan the Capitoline Triad had failed so… this city was a failure too in their eyes.”
Desmond turned to look at her as he said, “Let’s not stay too long here. Not unless we know why this failed.”
Oxygen.
Water.
Shelter.
The only basic necessity that Desmond hadn’t seen yet was ‘food’ but he didn’t think that the lack of food would be enough to count this city as a failure. There has to be another reason.
Food can simply be delivered and stocked. Not only that, he knew for a fact that they had the ability to create food. Shaun found one back in the Grand Temple.
Sure, it tasted like cardboard according to Shaun but they would have ignored the taste if it meant they had the proper nutrient they needed.
So…
Oxygen, water or shelter.
One or more of these three was the reason why this city was considered a failure.
If it was the water, they just needed to not touch it.
If it was the shelter or oxygen, they needed to find Minerva’s final message as quickly as they could.
“We’ll start the center and hope Minerva is self-centered enough to pick it.” Desmond said, a bit annoyed that every building looked the same.
If any of them had a nicer roof or something, he would have picked that one first.
Adha snorted but nodded as she reminded him dryly, “That’s my ancestor you’re talking to.”
“No offense, Adha, but Minerva and her kind are assholes of varying degrees.” Desmond snarked as he made his way down with Adha following him.
“And you wonder why I thought you might be one of them.”
Desmond couldn’t help but stare at Adha with his mouth open, “Adha! Who taught you to talk like that?”
Adha simply raised an eyebrow at him and that was all the answer Desmond needed to groan.
Yeah. He walked right into that.
They were on their way to the center of the city, traversing through the rooftops since it was faster when he noticed something that he didn’t see while they were on top of one of the pillars.
He whistled once, a short melodic tune that Adha knew was his signal to stop and observe. While Adha remained on the rooftop, Desmond jumped down and went down on one knee. He had to pat the road to remove the dirt that had accumulated, revealing the pavement that had cracks all around it.
A victim of the passage of time like everything in this place.
But…
There was an etching on the road, looking a bit like cracks as well but Desmond knew it had to be deliberate.
After all, there was no way cracks would form the Brotherhood insignia naturally.
This was Minerva’s clue for them.
The point of the insignia was pointing to his left…
Towards the center of the city…
Desmond raised his head to look back at Adha as he said, “I think we’re on the right tra-”
“Desmond?”
Desmond and Adha froze and they turned around.
And Desmond’s eyes widened as he recognized the Assassin standing on the rooftop in front of them.
“Altaïr?”
Chapter 58
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL.
Who wants an Altaïr POV? No? Well, you’re getting an Altaïr POV. XD
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The Brotherhood’s stronghold in Ḥalab was simple. It was meant to defend against any attack and to shelter the Assassins staying in Ḥalab. Those two main points were the priorities in its development and it showed in the walls and decorations.
Or lack of decorations.
It had all the necessary supplies that they needed and basic rooms that they would use. The most interesting place in the stronghold was the courtyard where Al Mualim would preside over every prayer. Flowers decorated the edges of the courtyard while the grass was trimmed for any Assassin who would like to join the prayers.
There was a small library as well but it was filled with books that Altaïr had already read back in Masyaf. Even Al Mualim’s office wasn’t as grand as the large library he had in Masyaf.
His office had a wall that would lead to a balcony that overlooked Ḥalab, the perfect place to observe Ḥalab at any time. The bookcases behind his desk had a few books which were filled with records of reports written by the one in charge of the stronghold, a few stacks of rolled up paper that would show detailed maps drawn by a Rafiq or one of the Assassins under them, and jars filled with herbs and other materials used to heal or to make people forget the pain of the wound they sustained as part of the stronghold’s emergency stock in case the healers ended up using everything in the medical room.
The office did not hold even a hint of Al Mualim’s personality for it had been Harash’s office before Al Mualim came to Ḥalab.
Altaïr did not even know that Al Mualim had planned to stay in Ḥalab before he had returned to Ḥalab, carrying the bleeding unconscious form of a brother in dire need of medical treatment.
Altaïr himself only suffered a mild cough, all thanks to the smoke he had inhaled as he helped the villagers escape and save the Assassin from a deadly strike from behind. It missed his heart but his shoulder bled so furiously that he lost consciousness while Altaïr had been dragging him out of the burning village.
The other Assassin who stayed to help the villagers in the outskirt of the village saw them and Altaïr rode his horse back to Ḥalab while he stayed to help the villagers.
That had been yesterday.
The sun was already setting and Altaïr heard from the whispers in the dining hall that Al Mualim had personally visited the Assassin with Harash in the medical room once they learned he had woken up.
He would survive, the healers said. Had Altaïr even been a second later, the man would have died.
He was lucky that Altaïr had been rushing to return to Ḥalab all in the hopes of being called back to Masyaf before the Assassins from Alamut would visit to take the monthly report.
But he wasn’t lucky enough it seemed. His arm had become infected and had been slowly killing him so they had to cut it off.
He would live but he can no longer be an Assassin. He might become a scholar or be promoted to Rafiq, depending on the information he had for Al Mualim.
“Welcome back, Altaïr.” Al Mualim greeted the moment Altaïr entered his current office.
Altaïr bowed slightly as he said, “It’s good to be here again, Al Mualim.”
He wasn’t lying. Ḥalab always had something interesting and new to show Altaïr whenever he visited. So many merchants would stay for a while in Ḥalab, peddling their wares and buying something from other merchants that they would most probably resell for a higher price elsewhere. Altaïr never failed to take the time to walk the streets, just looking at everything Ḥalab had to offer for his visit this time around.
Sometimes, he would buy a book that caught his interest using the meager savings he was able to cobble from what remained of the past traveling funds he would receive.
Other times, he would stare at something and wonder if Desmond would like it. He had noticed that Desmond seemed to like small trinkets and wood carvings, having amassed quite an amount that decorated the large desk he had in his room. He never bought anything though. Nothing seemed to call to him the way those red flowers in Al-Yaman did before.
“Indeed it is.” Al Mualim’s voice pulled Altaïr back to their conversation, the softness of his tone coiling around Altaïr.
Pulling at that small part of him that still wished to make the old man proud.
“We have a mission for you, one that is of utmost importance for our cause.” Al Mualim continued in his usual tone, making Altaïr shake off the feeling that tried to pull him down. Al Mualim nodded at him as he said, “Come near.”
Altaïr walked towards the desk without any hesitation, hands in front of him, fingers lightly entwined to show his deference to his master.
“Have you heard of the Chalice, Altaïr?” Al Mualim asked lightly.
Altaïr was immediately on guard.
Was it a trick question?
“I know what the word chalice pertains to but if you are asking for a specific chalice, I apologize, master, I do not know what you speak of.” Altaïr answered.
“It is not surprising. The Chalice is one of the most guarded secrets of the Templars.” Al Mualim said with a nod, accepting Altaïr’s answer. Al Mualim placed a hand on the desk as he continued, “For centuries, we thought that the Chalice was a powerful object with the ability to unite the factions of whoever holds it, whether it be the Crusaders or the Saracens. Those who have it will rule these lands.”
Altaïr remained quiet, letting his master continue, “But the Assassin the Templars tried to silence brought news to the real identity of the Chalice. It is not an object but a person.”
“A person?” Altaïr repeated as his brows furrowed, “How can that be if everyone who knows of the Chalice has thought it was an object for centuries? No human can live for that long.”
Al Mualim stared at him silently for a moment, unsettling Altaïr even though he didn’t show it. Al Mualim nodded before asking, “How would you describe a chalice, my child?”
“A cup or some kind of vessel to hold some sort of drink.”
“It does not have to be a drink.” Al Mualim corrected calmly, “Anything that flows can be held by a chalice… like blood.”
Altaïr realized immediately, “It’s not a specific person. It’s a lineage.”
Al Mualim nodded before he said gravely, “We believe that the last living member of this lineage is Desmond.”
“Desmond…” Altaïr repeated, unable to stop the way his eyes widened at the words leaving his master’s lips.
“I do not think you are also a Chalice, Altaïr.” Al Mualim said as he made his way to the other side of the desk, stopping right next to Altaïr. He placed a comforting hand on Altaïr’s shoulder.
It felt like a brand.
“I believe the blood of the Chalice comes from his mother’s side.” Al Mualim added in a solemn tone that demanded no question nor hesitation, “Altaïr… he is in danger.”
Altaïr turned to look at Al Mualim as he continued, “The Templars would have already known about Desmond being the Chalice and they may already have plans for the power his blood supposedly wields. Theirs is the way of gold and power. That is not something we can offer. But others might…”
“Alamut will not be able to keep him safe.” Al Mualim said as he leaned closer, “Whatever power he holds as the Chalice must be kept away from the dealings of men.”
“Altaïr…” Al Mualim stared at him as he ordered, “Infiltrate Alamut and find Desmond. Bring him here no matter what. The only ones that can keep him safe is us.”
Al Mualim’s words were poisoned honey to Altaïr’s ears.
“You are the only one that can keep him safe.”
Altaïr traveled to Alamut as fast as he could, changing horses every chance he got. Maud had been a big help, flying ahead of him just enough for him to understand she was leading him to Alamut. The route she led him to must have cut their travel time by an hour or so. Yet, she remained in the forest near Alamut instead of coming with him. He wasn’t surprised and perhaps…
He had an idea why.
By the time he reached Alamut, the sun had set and a day had already passed. His body ached and he could feel the pull of sleep trying to take him down.
He ignored everything as usual.
He was used to it, after all.
Once more, Alamut was quiet. The patrols were a bit tricky to slip through, their vision wider than normal in Altaïr’s Sight.
They could also use the Sight.
And they were using it regularly as they went along their patrol.
Even their patrol routes were strange. Every so often they would change their route, sometimes even turning around and walking back the way they came.
But they moved in unison.
It was all planned.
Whoever was in charge of the patrol routes had trained these Assassins to try and not fall victim to the common problems of having routines.
Unfortunately for them.
There would always be an opening.
It was smaller than usual and would be impossible for most.
But Altaïr was not like ‘most’ people.
Random actions, when done again and again, would soon have a pattern. Something that would appear because the people trying to be random was focusing on being random.
All Altaïr did was wait until that pattern emerged.
It took a few hours but that was just as well. The darkness of the night helped Altaïr slip passed the small moment in time where the patrols could not see him even with their Sights.
He had memorized Alamut’s layout from the last time he was there so it was easy to traverse the streets, blending into the shadows as he made his way to his first stop.
He slipped inside a small house near the center of the lower city and made his way towards the room being illuminated by a lantern.
“This poor fellow greets you.” Altaïr stated, making the man gasp as he turned around in surprise, hands covered in flour in front of him to block an attack that wasn’t coming.
Altaïr simply stared and waited a minute or so before the man finally dropped his hands.
“Oh, uh… this poor fellow greets you as well.” The man said back with a nod. He looked around and Altaïr wondered if the man actually believed that Altaïr would let anyone follow him here. He cleared his throat as he nodded at Altaïr, “I… I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“I had a fast horse.” Altaïr dryly said, not even caring if the man believed him.
Kadar did say his problem was no one knew he was joking because of the tone of his voice and his expression.
“I see…” The man said with a slightly confused expression before he nodded and waved his hand towards the door.
Altaïr stepped outside of the room and waited for the man to walk out as well. He followed the man to another room that looked to be a bedroom of some kind. Altaïr waited by the doorway as the man took out a false bottom on the left corner of the room. He placed it back after taking out something. He walked towards Altaïr and handed the paper to him, “This is for the master.”
Altaïr nodded and took it without looking at the content. It was not his place, after all.
“Desmond has been focused on his duties after his disciple, Adha, left with Sirius.” The man said, not realizing that Altaïr froze for a brief second, “He’s been holed up in the castle for months now, even before she left, and I hear that it’s because he’s taking over more duties from the imam.”
He leaned close and Altaïr stopped himself from leaning away as he whispered, “There’s rumors that he’ll be taking the title of mentor next year.”
He leaned back as he added, “But I heard that from the recruits so we can’t truly be sure how accurate the rumors are.”
Altaïr stared at him and he stared back. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Altaïr asked, “Anything else?”
“No. That’s about it.” He answered with a shake of his head, “If you have any plans concerning Desmond, your best bet is right now while he’s asleep.”
Altaïr nodded and left without saying anything else.
For a spy, he was quite useless.
This had been a waste of time.
Adha…
He didn’t expect to hear that name here of all places.
And Desmond had taken her as his disciple?
Since when?
Altaïr last saw Adha a year ago, a few months before the celebrations here in Alamut. As far as he knew, she was still following her father and assisting him.
She had even told him that she was just waiting for her father and her betrothed’s father to finalize the engagement. She had been certain that she would be wed sooner or later.
Did she run away?
He knew that Adha’s father was born and raised in Alamut. His friendship with Altaïr’s father had been nurtured during the time they spent in this very castle.
It wouldn’t be surprising if he and Adha had been informants for Alamut. Altaïr would be more surprised if they weren’t.
Why else would Al Mualim be adamant that Adha was to remain in Masyaf if she were to be betrothed to Altaïr?
She was meant to be a hostage.
Then… did something similar happened to her future husband? Did she run away and asked for help from Desmond?
If that was the case, Desmond would have helped her. He would be kind enough to help her.
No.
Desmond was too kind.
Altaïr was sure he was receiving biting remarks over his decision to train a woman.
But Desmond could afford to be kind because he was strong.
So if what Desmond wanted was to let women have the chance to become Assassins…
Then Altaïr would just have to support him any way he could.
Jealousy was a word that Altaïr knew. It wasn’t something he was familiar with. The feeling he would sometimes had when he saw someone with their parents, especially when he was young, was called ‘envy’.
He felt it because he didn’t have it.
Jealousy would mean that he did have it but his possession of it was being threatened.
He did not have Desmond.
Desmond had made that clear last time they met.
But Altaïr couldn’t help but feel that ‘jealousy’ was a better description for how he felt right now, seeing Desmond’s room filled with men all sleeping in his mountain of pillows.
Except for one.
It took the one still staying awake a few seconds to notice that Altaïr had slipped inside.
His eyes widened and he opened his mouth but Altaïr was faster, grabbing him by the face as he pushed him to the ground, his palm covering his mouth. Altaïr kept his left arm still with his knee while grabbing his right wrist. His other knee pressed against his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.
Altaïr hadn’t meant to attack him.
After all, he came here for Desmond.
But…
Altaïr glanced around, feeling something was off.
He blinked, letting the world be washed in gray.
He wasn’t here.
Desmond wasn’t here.
Altaïr turned to face the Assassin under him as he growled, “Where’s Desmond?”
The Assassin blinked at him and Altaïr finally remembered his name.
Sirius.
That was the name he gave Kadar and was the Assassin that Kadar would also write to at times. It was normal for Kadar to befriend others and Altaïr had no problems with sharing Kadar’s friendship with any of them.
What wasn’t normal was that Kadar had tried to hide his correspondence with this specific Assassin to Altaïr which was strange. Kadar never hid anything from him before. That was why Altaïr had been more inclined to probe Kadar for any information that he might accidentally reveal. Kadar’s greatest weakness had always been Altaïr and Altaïr was not a good person.
So he didn’t mind using that weakness to his advantage. He had simply been curious on what the two were talking about and why Kadar was being secretive about it.
There were two things he knew about the little slips Kadar had given him.
One was that Kadar was helping this Assassin with his writing. Kadar had grinned at him when he said that and Altaïr felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at seeing the grin. Whatever this writing was, there was something inside Altaïr that felt it was dangerous to him specifically.
The other thing he knew about this Assassin was…
“Peredur.” Altaïr said quietly.
One of Desmond’s closest friends, according to Kadar.
Desmond had even mentioned him in one of his letters before.
Someone he trusted.
The Assassin’s eyes widened.
“It seems it wasn’t a waste of time then.” Altaïr mumbled before he said to the Assassin he was pinning on the floor, “You’re supposed to be with Adha. If you’re here and Desmond isn’t…”
Altaïr’s eyes narrowed, “Then Desmond is with Adha right now.”
Away from Alamut where it would be hard for anyone to try and take him.
Somewhere out there where anything could happen.
With no one to assist him but Adha…
“Where’s Desmond?” Altaïr asked with a growl.
There was a thrilling sound and the flap of wings before Aquila landed on the forehead of the Assassin underneath Altaïr.
Peredur let out sounds that Altaïr’s hand muffled and the two of them ignored him as Aquila flapped his wings at Altaïr before patting Altaïr’s arm.
He moved strangely with his wings outstretched and Altaïr has no idea what that was supposed to mean.
He continued to do it, moving his upper body from side to side slowly while keeping his talons on top of Peredur’s forehead.
It was like he was mimicking… flight?
“You’ll show me where Desmond is?” Altaïr asked, making Aquila stop moving. From the mountain of pillows, the other men were stirring, most probably feeling something was wrong.
Altaïr ignored them as Aquila nodded, puffing his chest.
Underneath them, Peredur made muffling sounds that sounded like he was protesting.
“Alright.” Altaïr nodded, “Lead the way.”
Aquila raised one wing to the air as he let out a triumphant thrill before rushing out of the room in a flurry of wings and feathers.
“Wha- Pere-”
“Peredur!”
Altaïr would give it to them, the moment they saw him pressing Peredur to the floor, any drowsiness in their faces were gone and they charged at him. Unfortunately for them, Altaïr was faster and he quickly kicked the first one to reach him on the chest.
Using the momentum of his kick, he skidded backwards. His back hit the window sill and he fell head first without any hesitation, barely hearing one of them shout “Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad!?” in surprise.
Aquila let out a cry just as Altaïr landed on the pile of hay and dry leaves below. He stepped out to the sound of shouting from Desmond’s room.
By the time the entire castle was awake, alarms ringing of an intruder…
Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was already on his horse, following Aquila as he lead him away from Alamut, all the while ignoring the murderous glares coming from Maud who was gripping the back of the saddle with dangerously sharp talons.
Notes:
I deliberately made the timeline strange because I wanted Altaïr’s surprise appearance to happen on Desmond's birthday but I knew you guys would want to read about Altaïr’s side of the story XD
If it’s not yet clear, Altaïr learning about the Chalice happened around a day before Desmond and Adha left Alamut so they barely missed each other. XD
I could not add it since it was Altaïr’s POV but Rahim was the one who tried to attack Altaïr to save Peredur. During the entire commotion, Peredur was left with the look of a madman that may have just misunderstood something and thought a dramatic love triangle was about to happen in Iram. XD
Oh for those wondering how random things can have a pattern, it’s… something I learned in one of my programming classes way way back. Even if you were to make use of a random number generator, sooner or later, a pattern will emerge because of the finite number of ‘patterns’ random numbers can have. That means that even if the guards try to be random, sooner or later, a pattern they cannot see will emerge and that’s what Altaïr waited for.
Chapter 59
Notes:
This is not beta'ed due to RL.
Chapter Text
What was Altaïr doing here?
That question should have been the most important thing inside Desmond’s mind.
It should be.
Instead, all he could focus on was how disheveled he looked right now, the way his hair clung to his skin, wet from his sweat. Even his breathing was faster than normal.
And the dark lines under his eyes were more prominent.
“Alta-”
A loud cry covered the rest of Desmond’s call and Desmond let out a surprised ‘oof!’ as he felt something hit his chest. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, cradling the eagle currently rubbing his cheek against Desmond’s chest, letting out cooing sounds.
“Aquila…” Desmond mumbled and raised the eagle a little, letting the bird rub the side of his face against his cheek, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
The short time it took Desmond to reassure the eagle in his arms, Altaïr had already closed the distance between them. Desmond turned his attention back to the man in front of him and Altaïr opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he felt Desmond’s hand touch his right cheek.
“You haven’t been getting enough sleep, have you?” Desmond asked softly. Altaïr didn’t look surprised by his question, placing a hand over Desmond’s as he leaned on his palm.
“Perhaps.” Altaïr replied as he moved his head slightly. Desmond felt Altaïr’s lips against his palm and felt his cheeks grow hotter.
And that was when they heard another cry from a bird of prey, making Desmond raise his head. An eagle flew around them twice before landing on Altaïr’s shoulder.
He recognized her immediately with the way she was glaring at Aquila, ignoring both Altaïr and Desmond to let out a grumbling sound that made Aquila cover his face with one of his wing, raising his head to look at Desmond as he let out disgruntled sounds as if to snitch on how he had been treated during his time with the female eagle currently glaring at them.
“Be nice, Maud.” Altaïr said calmly, making the eagle turn around so her back was facing Aquila. From the small sigh Altaïr let out, it seemed that was Maud’s way of being nice.
Desmond couldn’t help the way his lips curved into a small smile at the interaction.
But also…
This gave him the time to finally pull away from the feelings he let himself swim in, too surprised by Altaïr’s appearance.
“What are you doing here, Altaïr?” Desmond asked, the smile dropping from his face as he added, “Does Rashid know of this place?”
“No.” Altaïr replied calmly. Maud turned just enough to look back at Desmond as Altaïr answered, “I went to Alamut and found out you had left. Aquila guided me to where you went.”
“Aquila did?” Desmond looked down at his eagle who hopped out of his arms. He landed on the ground to Desmond’s right and used his talons to draw the shape of a rectangle.
“Oh.” Desmond blinked as he remembered, “I did teach Aquila how to remember maps he finds when he’s scouting for me.”
Sure, Desmond also kept his connection with Aquila during that time but he did teach the eagle about it so he could report to Desmond even if their connection was suddenly cut.
Aquila nodded and used his wing to point at Altaïr. Altaïr sighed as he admitted, “It took me a while to understand what he was asking for when he kept pecking my pouch. He seems to know which pouch would have a map.”
Aquila puffed his chest and Desmond knew it was his way of saying ‘obviously, I know where it is, who do you think I am?’.
“Ah, well…” Desmond smiled indulgently at his proud eagle as he said, “It would be better to try and treat him like a child than a bird.”
Aquila squawked, most probably offended by the word child being used to describe him. Maud let out some kind of sound that made Aquila glare at her. Maud simply glared back.
Desmond turned to look back at Altaïr as he asked, “Why were you in Alamut?”
Altaïr’s expression turned solemn and he squeezed Desmond’s hand while it took all of Desmond’s willpower to not react because he just realized that his hand was still touching Altaïr’s cheek.
And now he was stuck.
It would be awkward to pull his hand away but, at the same time, their current position was also awkward.
“News of you being the Chalice has reached Ḥalab.” Altaïr informed him, “And I…”
Altaïr frowned as he continued, “I went to Alamut to warn you.”
“Don’t you mean you were sent by Rashid to persuade Desmond into coming to Masyaf with you?”
They both turned to look at Adha who had her arms crossed as she stared at them. She nodded at Altaïr as she greeted, “Altaïr.”
“Adha.” Altaïr greeted back with a nod.
Desmond finally pulled away from Altaïr and took a few steps back to stand next to Adha. Adha raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything while Desmond cleared his throat. Aquila took that as his chance to fly towards Desmond and land on his shoulders.
Desmond glanced at Adha and silently begged her not to say anything about how close he had been to Altaïr (and their previous position) and Adha just rolled her eyes before nodding her head in Altaïr’s direction. Desmond sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he asked, “So… is she right? Did you go to Alamut because Rashid ordered you to?”
“I used it as my excuse, yes.” Altaïr answered with a nod before continuing, “My plan had been to warn you and tell you to stay in Alamut. Al Mualim believes that the crusaders wish to use you in some way. He says that whoever ‘possesses’ you will unite the factions.”
“Whoever possesses the Chalice would unite the factions…” Desmond repeated, glancing at Adha who glanced back at him.
They both knew what Rashid meant. As Minerva had explained back underneath Alamut, Adha’s blood was the blood of an admin, the highest user that can activate and operate any and all devices that the Isus used.
Including POEs…
He knew that Adha didn’t know about this but Desmond had an idea on why the Templars and Rashid wanted to get their hands on Adha.
If they had her, they could use the full capacity of the Apple underneath the temple in Jerusalem to enslave others. Even if they didn’t know before that the Chalice was the name given to the people that shared Minerva’s blood, they might have read or heard of ‘its’ capability to fully control POEs. They probably assumed it was another device of some kind.
“The crusaders have made attempts to secure a supply route. It’s not clear what their plan is but, considering what Al Mualim told me, it’s highly possible that they plan to either attack Alamut or ambush you when you leave.” Altaïr continued, “Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s forces are making procuring a supply route difficult, of course, and some of my brothers have been making trouble to ensure they don’t build any route at all but…”
“If they learn that I’ve left Alamut, they would chase after me.” Desmond continued for him, making Altaïr nod gravely.
“I know.” Desmond said before admitting, “That had been the plan from the start. That’s why ‘Desmond’ is still in Alamut as far as everyone knows.”
Altaïr’s brows furrowed as he looked at Adha for a moment. Desmond could see the gears turning inside his head and Desmond waited.
Altaïr turned to stare at Desmond as he said, “You’re not the real Chalice, are you? It’s Adha.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile behind his shemagh.
Adha blinked and asked, “How did you know?”
“Because Desmond is willing to risk his life here in this strange ghost city with only you as his ally.” Altaïr answered as he stared at her, “Even if you have been training under him for months, it doesn’t make sense that he would bring someone who have yet to receive her own blade in such a dangerous mission.”
“And… the fake mission talked about you being escorted by ‘Sirius’.” Altaïr continued, “It means your participation is necessary in this mission.”
Altaïr turned to face Desmond as he continued, “You’re looking for something here and being the Chalice is necessary. If you were truly the Chalice, you wouldn’t put a novice-”
Adha glared at him but he ignored it as he continued, “-in danger. You’d either be with a more experienced Assassin or alone.”
“Also… if you weren’t the Chalice and you didn’t need the Chalice’s help for whatever your mission here is, you wouldn’t bring the real Chalice here and would keep the real one safe in Alamut.” Altaïr added before rubbing his chin, “Not to mention…”
“Alamut Assassins usually operate in three men squads.” Altaïr continued, “The fact that you only brought Adha means that you’re trying to make it harder for others to realize that you’re Assassins.”
Adha stared at Altaïr with wide eyes while Desmond’s smile grew as he said fondly, “I knew you’d get it, Altaïr.”
Adha turned to stare at him and, even with the shemagh covering his face, she could see that he was smiling wildly with the way the skin near his eyes were wrinkled. Adha glanced at the two of them, noticing the almost smile in Altaïr’s own face and realized.
“Oh.”
Both men turned to look at her and she waved her hand as if to shoo off their curiosity, “Shall we get going then?”
She turned to nod at Altaïr as she said, “Is it safe to say that you plan to follow us?”
Altaïr nodded back.
Desmond’s smile disappeared.
Would it… would it be alright for Altaïr to be here?
Altaïr was more observant than the others. It would be harder to use fae lies against him to keep Desmond’s whole ‘I traveled to the past’ thing a secret.
Then again, it wasn’t like anyone would think that Desmond was a time traveler.
Wait.
Desmond stared at Altaïr who seemed to have noticed he was staring because he turned to stare back. Altaïr’s expression turned solemn as he said, “I only wish to help, Desmond. I will not tell anyone about what will happen here. Not even to Al Mualim.”
Desmond continued to stare at Altaïr for a moment before he said, “I believe you.”
He took a step towards Altaïr as he asked, “But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
It should be scary how easy it was for Altaïr to agree to what he wanted. He didn’t even bother to hear what Desmond was going to say first.
It was scary how much Desmond wished this part of Altaïr would remain focused on him even though he knew that, depending on Minerva’s message, he might have to give this up and live with his life knowing that Maria Thorpe would become the focus on Altaïr’s unwavering feelings.
“If I tell you to leave, you will leave without any complaints.” Desmond said, ignoring the way Adha was now looking at him.
Even Maud looked disappointed at him for some reason.
Altaïr nodded as he replied, “Understood.”
Altaïr took a step forward as he said, “I would like to add an exemption to that rule.”
Desmond remained stationary as Altaïr placed his right hand on the side of his neck, “I will leave if you order me to unless I believe you are in danger. Only then will I ignore your order. Will that be alright with you?”
“Sure.” Desmond answered.
Altaïr leaned close enough that Desmond could feel his breath against his shemagh as he stated, “Lie.”
Desmond lightly pushed Altaïr’s hand away as he said, “Using my heartbeat to check if I’m lying is bad form, Altaïr.”
Altaïr stepped back as he asked, “Did you know your heart beat faster the closer I get?”
Desmond’s cheeks grew hotter at those words and he countered, “I’m sure your heart feels the same.”
“It does.” Altaïr placed a hand over his chest as he admitted with a small smile, “Just feeling your touch makes me feel as if my heart is about to burst out of my chest.”
“Oh, you two are the worst.”
They both turned to look at Adha with eyes shining of some kind of emotion Desmond was absolutely afraid to fully understand. Her voice was teasing as she suggested, “Perhaps we should take a break so the two of you may… feel each other’s ‘hearts’ to your content?”
Desmond’s flushed skin was almost as red as the shemagh he left behind in Alamut to help Peredur pretend to be him and he took a few steps back away from Altaïr as he said, “W-we should get going.”
“Of course, mentor.” Adha dryly said and the three of them started to follow Minerva’s marks with Altaïr walking side by side with Adha.
Adha turned to tilt her head towards him and raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll follow Desmond’s lead.” Altaïr explained and she noticed Desmond’s shoulders tense for a fraction of a second before they continued to make their way towards the center of the city.
She hummed and Desmond hoped she wouldn’t ask something embarrassing.
Or say something embarrassing.
Like maybe tell Altaïr about how there was a book series about them.
“How did you find us?” She asked instead, “And how are those two alright after that sandstorm? Did you cover them with your robes and carry them in your arms?”
“There was no sandstorm.”
Desmond didn’t stop walking but he did glance at Altaïr as he asked, “You didn’t get ambushed by a weird sandstorm like us?”
“Aquila told me of a sandstorm when he scouted ahead but, by the time I got to where he ‘said’ the sandstorm was, there wasn’t any.” Altaïr explained before adding, “Desmond, it might be better if you gave Aquila a more accurate ‘gesture’ for sandstorm.”
“What did he do?” Desmond asked as he glanced at the bird on his shoulder. Aquila cooed as he rubbed his cheek against Desmond’s head.
“He flapped his wings on the sand.” Altaïr dryly answered, making Desmond chuckle.
“You’re getting better at charades.” Desmond gently said as he scratched Aquila underneath his beak, making the bird coo once more. Desmond dropped his hand as he asked, “Scout for us for a bit?”
Aquila let out a thrill before flapping his wings. He flew off Desmond’s shoulder and began to fly above them. Maud soundlessly flew off Altaïr’s shoulder as well and flew away from Aquila.
“I found your horses, I believe.” Altaïr added as they continued to walk the same road.
Every street looked the same.
Everything looked the same.
The building, the roads, even the ceiling above them didn’t give any noticeable difference for them to use as a mark.
The only real mark they could use was the carving that Minerva left for them to guide their way.
“Are they alright?” Adha asked.
“They were just waiting near the edge where the sandstorm was supposed to start.” Altaïr answered, “I tied them together with my horse near the dome we entered from.”
“That’s good.” She let out a soft sigh of relief while Desmond glanced at him.
“Why do you think the sandstorm just disappeared?” Desmond asked, curious if Altaïr would have the same guess as him.
“You called it a weird sandstorm.” Altaïr said, “If it’s not a natural sandstorm in your eyes then it might have disappeared because of something else. Perhaps you or Adha have touched something that made it disappear?”
Desmond’s smile grew as he said, “I think so too. I think it disappeared when we completed Minerva’s puzzle.”
“Oh.” Adha let out a thoughtful hum, “I didn’t think of that.”
“Minerva, the supposed goddess of wisdom?” Seeing Desmond and Adha nod, Altaïr frowned as he asked, “Then the other two statues I saw must have been Juno and Jupiter.”
“Close. His name is Tinia, not Jupiter. And don’t worry. They’re not actual gods. They’re… ‘mortals’ who people believed as gods later on.” Desmond corrected lightly, knowing the frown on Altaïr’s face was because of the whole ‘trials from the gods’ vibe he must have felt, as they finally reached the center of the city.
But Minerva’s mark did not point at the center.
Instead, it pointed at the third building to their left.
Desmond whistled twice and Aquila landed on his shoulder once more. Maud remained flying above them but Altaïr didn’t seemed surprised or worried so Desmond didn’t say anything. They walked towards the building marked by Minerva’s carving and Desmond turned towards Adha and pointed up.
Adha nodded and jumped on top of the building behind them. Desmond turned to look at Altaïr who raised his hand and pointed at himself. Desmond frowned but nodded, taking a step back as he took out one of his throwing knives using his left hand while his right hand wrapped around the hilt of his sheathed sword.
Altaïr quietly walked towards the door and waited until Adha had an arrow nocked and aimed at the front door before he opened it with a firm but quiet push. Altaïr pressed his back against the wall next to the door, his left hand open and a throwing knife clenched on his right hand as well. He leaned forward to peek inside while all three of them used their Eagle Vision.
Altaïr entered the building swiftly and looked around before standing. He kept his Eagle Vision activated as he said, “It’s clean.”
Desmond knew that. His Eagle Vision showed no glow at all but he still turned to Adha and raised his right hand, closing it into a fist before dropping it. He entered the building next and looked around.
Nothing.
It was empty.
Just one big room void of anything but walls, a floor and a ceiling.
“Clear.” Desmond announced as he deactivated his Eagle Vision, looking around. He frowned when he noticed that every wall, the ceiling and the floor were covered in tiles.
It reminded Desmond of a bathroom floor, to be perfectly honest.
Adha entered the building as she asked, “Did we get Minerva’s markings wrong?”
The moment her foot stepped on the floor of the building, the floor began to glow. Altaïr gripped the hilt of his sword and his expression grew grim while Desmond sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Nope. We got it right.” He watched as the lines between tiles began to glow all around them, “We just needed your ‘blood’ I guess.”
“Oh.” Adha walked closer to Desmond as they waited for something to happen.
“It’s okay, Altaïr.” Desmond patted Altaïr’s arm who frowned at him, “It’s… Adha’s blood is like a special key in this place, I think.”
“As the Chalice.” Altaïr added, making Desmond nod.
“As the Chalice.” Desmond confirmed.
Altaïr’s expression turned thoughtful and Desmond knew he was wondering how a building could have ‘realized’ that Adha was the Chalice that quickly.
“Desmond.” Adha called out and both men focused on the tiles around them.
“Be careful.” Desmond said, “We don’t know what’s going to happen yet.”
Knowing Minerva though…
Desmond had a feeling it would be another puzzle…
Would it be too much to ask that it was about to start her message?
Yeah.
Desmond was never that lucky.
Chapter 60
Notes:
This chapter isn't beta'ed due to RL reasons
Update (04/08/24): The tile topic (it makes sense in this chapter) has been edited based on what MadSyrax has informed me. Thank you!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Once every line had began to glow, it stayed glowing for about three seconds before it began to disappear. Starting from the wall where the door was, it continued to disappear in an almost circular formation until the only part left glowing was one of the tiles on the wall directly in front of the door. It was twelve tiles above the center tile and twenty-one tiles to the right of it. Desmond nodded at Adha and she walked towards the tile.
She looked it over for a moment before she pressed her hand over it.
They waited for a few seconds before she dropped her hand and turned to look at Desmond as she said, “Nothing.”
“Let me try.” Desmond said and Adha stepped back while Desmond walked towards the tile. Adha raised an eyebrow when Altaïr followed Desmond, staying behind him but more to his right so he could see what Desmond was planning to do with the tile.
Altaïr just shrugged when he noticed her silent question, making her snort as she took a few more steps to the side so she wouldn’t block Altaïr’s view.
The moment Desmond placed his hand over the tile, they heard a click and Desmond pulled his hand slowly. The tile began to fall off and Desmond caught it with his other hand.
Behind the tile was a small golden ball the same size of a date. Some kind of gear-like ring was around it with a smaller light brown ball on the ring itself.
The ball in the center had the number 21 etched on it.
The ball in the ring had the number 12 etched on it.
“12 and 21.” Adha noted.
“A clue then?” Altaïr said, “Two numbers that are opposite of each other?”
Desmond tried to move it by grabbing the ring.
When he tried to move it down, the smaller ball’s number rolled to ‘11’. Moving it up twice changed the ball’s number to ‘13’.
When he tried to move it to the right, the bigger ball’s number rolled to ‘22’. Moving it to the left twice made the ball’s number roll to ‘20’.
Every time he moved it, more of the tiles fell off.
12 and 21.
December 21.
His death.
Desmond sighed.
Then, the other code would have to be…
Desmond began to move it down.
12.
11.
10.
He didn’t stop until it was now showing the number ‘3’.
Only then did he began to move it to the left.
19.
18.
17.
The moment the ball rolled to ‘13’, there was another click and Desmond couldn’t move it anymore.
3 and 13.
March 13.
His birth date.
They heard the sound of gears turning and stepped away from the center of the room where the floor began to open up, revealing a set of stairs that seemingly leads deeper below.
“3 and 13?” Altaïr asked Desmond.
“My birthday. March 13.” Desmond answered with a sigh.
“Birthday…” Altaïr repeated before asking, “The day you were born?”
Desmond nodded and Altaïr grew thoughtful for a moment. Desmond tilted his head, wondering why he was thinking so much about this. After a moment, Altaïr said, “You used the word ‘March’ for the 3rd month which means it’s your day of birth according to the calendar used by the crusaders.”
Oh. That was right.
They used a different calendar here.
Alamut always used both calendars to make sure any important dates by crusaders would be noted. Everyone had gotten used to Desmond using the words of the month that the crusaders’ calendar had, most probably because they believed Desmond did come from crusader lands.
And Desmond realized that almost all of them used the crusader’s calendar when talking to him about dates as well.
It warmed his heart knowing they’ve taken note of Desmond’s habit and adapted to it.
But he also felt a bit annoyed at himself for not even realizing this until Altaïr, who was used to this land’s calendar, pointed it out.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Desmond nodded as he added, “Minerva’s puzzles uses their calendar.”
To be more exact, she was using the Gregorian calendar that Desmond Miles had been more familiar with. If Desmond was to explain it, Gregorian calendar was something akin to the grandson of the current calendar of the crusaders used.
“I see…” Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile as he promised solemnly, “I won’t forget that date then.”
Desmond stared at him for a moment before chuckling.
“Okay.” Desmond grinned at him.
Behind them, Adha and Aquila turned to look at each other with a look of shared misery over being the third wheel of… whatever it was that Altaïr and Desmond were doing right now.
The stairs led them to a basement that looked just as empty as the building above.
Altaïr had taken point, walking ahead of them with his Eagle Vision activated.
Desmond had been impressed.
As far as he remembered, Altaïr shouldn’t even be able to use Eagle Vision while moving right now. His mastery over his Sight had been focused on duration back then. He had only started to be able to move while Eagle Vision was activated during the latter months of 1191.
The growth of his Sight had been pushed by the need to find the real Rashid among the illusions created by the Apple to survive.
Something must have happened for Altaïr to push past his original timeline’s limits then.
And that ‘something’ must be Desmond or something related to him.
The moment Altaïr stepped on the floor, the tiles on the ceiling began to glow, lighting up the room.
Good to know this one didn’t need to be activated by Adha.
“Should I try walking and touching the walls?” Adha suggested when stepping into the basement did nothing else.
“Sure.” Desmond shrugged, “We have no other clues anyway.”
Adha nodded and began to walk around, tapping every tile she could touch. Desmond scratched Aquila’s neck as he said, “Go back up and keep an eye on things with Maud.”
Aquila looked displeased with the idea of being near Maud but let out a grumbling sound as he tapped his talon against Desmond’s shoulder twice. Desmond chuckled as he said, “Fine, two treats if you get along with Maud.”
Aquila shook his feathers before flying off his shoulders. Desmond watched as he flew up the stairs while Altaïr mused out loud, “Do we really not have any clues?”
“Hm?” Desmond turned to look at him and Adha glanced at them as she continued to tap the tiles on the wall in front of them.
Altaïr placed his hand on his chin as he thought out loud, “Adha’s blood activated the puzzle above us. Why wouldn’t her blood activate the puzzle here then?”
Desmond continued to stare at him as Adha walked to stand next to him. She elbowed him lightly as she said, “The passion in your eyes is clouding your mind, mentor.”
“Wha-” Desmond turned to stare at Adha with an open mouth before he hissed, “I was not looking at him with passion in my eyes!”
“Oh?” Altaïr’s lips curved into a smirk as he said, “Shame. I was enjoying your undivided attention.”
Desmond’s red face could not be hidden by his shemagh as he spluttered incoherently.
Adha crossed her arms as she teased, “Then perhaps you should try and think out loud as well, Desmond, hhmm?”
Desmond groaned.
There was no way he was going to say out loud that Adha wasn’t necessarily wrong.
While he wouldn’t say he was staring at Altaïr with ‘passion’ in his eyes, he was definitely enjoying Altaïr showing off his brilliant mind, even if it was for something as simple as trying to figure out Minerva’s puzzle.
“Okay, so the fact that Adha didn’t activate the puzzle the moment she stepped inside is a clue of what would trigger the puzzle.” Desmond said instead, ignoring Adha’s raised eyebrow over his deliberate attempts to return their attention back to the real ‘problem’ at hand. Altaïr nodded at his assessment and listened as Desmond continued, “But why wouldn’t Minerva use the same trigger?”
“What if there’s no puzzle?” Altaïr suggested, making Desmond blink at him, “What if we’re not looking for a puzzle but a key of some kind to open the next room or something similar?”
“That’s… possible. Adha’s blood doesn’t have to activate anything because there’s nothing to activate in the first place. That would imply that this isn’t a puzzle but a simple ‘find the way’.” Desmond said and he frowned as he corrected himself, “Not that simple though since we don’t know the location of the key.”
“And where’s the lock.” Adha added with a tilt of her head, “What’s the use of the key if there’s no lock?”
Altaïr nodded before stating, “I counted the zellige-”
Zellige? Was he talking about the entire building’s bathroom tile look?
Altaïr pointed at one wall, “They have the same number as the room we were just in.”
“Zellige… do you mean the tiles?” Desmond asked with a frown.
“Tiles.” Altaïr repeated thoughtfully before asking, “Is that what you call them?”
“Eh?” Desmond blinked.
Oh shit.
Did the word ‘tile’ not exist in this time period?
“Uuuhh… yes.” Desmond answered, trying not to sound unsure. He usually didn’t freak out about these sort of things when he was in Alamut but Altaïr thinking so deeply about it felt like he might have accidentally said something that would have a large effect later on.
Desmond was pretty sure he was thinking too much about this but he couldn’t help it.
Everyone in Alamut just got used to him talking about some word that they assumed was from Desmond’s hometown.
But not Altaïr…
Altaïr wanted to know things.
And it was definitely biting Desmond on the ass right now.
“Does it come from the word tiġele?” Adha asked curiously, “That does mean ‘brick’.”
“That makes sense.” Altaïr nodded.
It did?
Well, Adha gave him an out and Desmond was going to take it.
“I’m not sure of its origin but maybe?” Desmond answered vaguely before pushing the conversation back to the problem at hand, “You said that there’s the same number of tiles here as the room above us, right?”
Altaïr nodded and Desmond knew Altaïr realized that he had deliberately changed the subject.
It was the way Altaïr’s eyes stared at him for a brief moment before he nodded.
In that brief moment, Altaïr contemplated whether to press on with the questions or let Desmond change the subject.
It was obvious what he chose to do.
“It had to be deliberate.” Altaïr continued as he looked at the stairs, “The inclusion of those stairs would have made the tiles of this room fewer than the one above but the size of this room was made larger to accommodate its inclusion. Also…”
They all turned to look at the opening that led back to the upper floor, “The entrance did not close which meant that the size had to accommodate both the stairs and the hole above us.”
“Which both points to the number of tiles being a necessary aspect of this room.” Adha finished and Altaïr turned to nod at her.
“Then the key would be in one of these tiles then?” She asked.
“We should try checking the specific tiles that are twelve tiles above and twenty-one tiles to the right of the center tile of each wall, floor and ceiling.” Altaïr suggested, “If there’s nothing there, we’ll try the tiles three tiles above and thirteen tiles to the right of the center tile.”
“The previous and current positions of the ring above.” Desmond realized, rubbing his chin as he commented, “Yeah, Minerva might actually use those numbers again…”
But would she really though?
It seemed a bit too risky repeating the same number over and over again. Especially since December 21 was used to open the door that led them to Iram as well.
But Altaïr’s idea of checking those specific tiles might be on the right track.
“Alright, let’s try it.” Desmond nodded at Altaïr before they each went on a different wall to check.
It wasn’t a total bust.
The one on the ceiling was hiding a piece of plate-like object that was made of the same golden metal as the Apple. It was stuck to the tile three tiles above and thirteen tiles to the right off the center tile and was about 5 inches in diameter with a hole in the middle. The entire plate was etched with lines that Desmond felt like he had seen before but he couldn’t remember where.
On the other hand, the one on the floor that they found thanks to the overly used 12-21 number combination wasn’t an object but an indentation that was the same size as the plate they found on the ceiling with a small thin rod in the middle. They placed it on top of the indentation but nothing happened.
“Maybe there’s more components to this key.” Adha suggested as he looked over the piece they found on the ceiling.
“It’s probably on the walls.” Altaïr commented, “The problem is which tile they’re hiding in.”
3/13.
12/21.
Minerva was using important dates of Desmond Miles’ life.
Four walls…
Four other important dates.
“Yeah, Minerva’s just enough of a bitch to use those dates.” Desmond sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Let’s try the following… Four above, four to the right. Six above, twenty-four to the right and…” Desmond glanced at Altaïr as he continued, “One above, eleven to the right.”
“That’s three different combinations. We’re still missing one more wall.” Adha noted, “I have a feeling Minerva didn’t plan on using any combinations twice in this room.”
Another date important to Desmond Miles…
“Ten above, ten to the right.” Desmond recounted, “If that doesn’t work, try… Nine above, one to the right.”
October 10… the day he got Ezio’s Apple and Juno forced him to kill Lucy.
September 1… the day he was abducted by Abstergo.
Yeah.
He was pretty sure those were quite important dates in the life of Desmond Miles.
Altaïr stared at him while Adha nodded, already picking the wall she was going to check. Desmond turned to look back at Altaïr and tilted his head.
“Three-Thirteen correspond to the day you were born.” Altaïr said.
“Yeah… I told you that.” Desmond reminded him as he blinked.
“I was born on the eleventh day of the first month according to the calendar the crusaders use.” Altaïr continued.
“January 11, huh?” Desmond asked as he gave Altaïr a polite smile even though he knew Altaïr couldn’t see it, “I’ll keep that in mind then.”
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before walking towards the wall farthest from them, “Then I expect you to greet me next year.”
Desmond kept quiet, watching Altaïr’s back.
Maybe he should have just told Altaïr to keep watch outside.
… not that Altaïr would agree to it anyway.
Desmond was already lucky that Altaïr wasn’t trying to push for more information of why they were here or what they were looking for.
Well, hopefully they wouldn’t spend too much time in this room for Altaïr to have the chance to ask.
“I’m going to kill Minerva.” Desmond growled as he looked at the three other pieces they managed to find.
Which meant they were still missing one more.
“Isn’t she already dead?” Adha asked with a sigh as she took out her waterskin and drank a bit. She handed the waterskin to Altaïr who shook his head.
Adha shrugged and returned the waterskin back to her bag as she asked, “Did you leave your supply with your horse?”
“I don’t have any.” Altaïr answered as he stared at Desmond who kept muttering something about ‘damn precursors and their need for dramatic bullshit’ and other things, pacing the last remaining wall that contained the last piece.
“You don’t have any supplies…” Adha repeated, blinking at him. In front of them, Desmond had started to remove the tiles nearest to the center. It took a lot of time but, fuck it, he was going to brute force this goddamn puzzle or key hunting or whatever the fuck this was called because fuck Minerva!
Adha leaned closer to Altaïr and whispered, “Altaïr… did you chase after us without even stocking up on supplies first?”
Altaïr ignored her.
Her eyes seemed to see his very soul as she continued, “Altaïr… how many times did you change horses just to catch up with us?”
Altaïr didn’t answer her.
“Did you even sleep?”
Altaïr remained quiet.
“Altaïr… did you even eat?”
“Of course I ate.” Altaïr sighed, turning to glare at her, “Maud and Aquila would hunt food and Aquila… Aquila does this expression…”
“Ah, the one that screams ‘I’m hungry and you not feeding me counts as animal and child abuse’?” Desmond asked as he continued to take out the tiles.
“Yes.” Altaïr growled, not bothering to tell them that Maud’s expression was more on the side of ‘look at how pathetic you are, having to be given food by us’.
Desmond chuckled and took out his waterskin, throwing it at Altaïr who caught it without any problem, “Yeah, I’m still wondering where he learned to do that. My bet is it’s Khalid’s fault.”
Altaïr stared at the waterskin in his hand for a moment before drinking from it, making Adha roll her eyes.
“All three of us should just take out all the tiles in that wall.” Adha suggested.
“Yeah.” Desmond sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m out of dates Minerva might think is important.”
Desmond felt Altaïr place the waterskin back on his bag and nodded at him before he took the left end of the wall. Adha stood on the other end of the wall and they began to silently take off all the tiles.
Fuck Minerva and whatever date she thought Desmond would remember for some reason.
Twelve above, four to the right.
12/4.
December 4.
Haytham Kenway’s fucking birthday.
Desmond felt both embarrassed and annoyed.
He was embarrassed for forgetting that Haytham Kenway would have counted as one of the four walls that kept Desmond Miles up.
He was annoyed that he didn’t even consider the possibility that the last date was connected to Haytham Kenway at all.
But the good news was that now, they had all the components needed for the key.
“I think this is meant to be an astrolabe.” Altaïr said as he placed each component. Two golden plates with etchings all over were placed first. Another circular object that had lots of decorations that reminded Desmond of constellations was placed next. The last component to be placed was a long thin rod that reminded Desmond of the arms of a clock.
The moment the last component was placed, there was a click and the rods began to move.
No.
All the components began to move as the indentation slowly rose until it was the same height as Desmond’s stomach.
“So this is the puzzle then?” Altaïr noted as he crossed his arms.
An astrolabe was used for a lot of things.
But one of its most common use was to tell time.
“It can’t be as simple as Minerva asking us to tell her the time right now, is it?” Adha sarcastically asked.
“No. It’s a specific time.” Desmond stated.
There was no way to check the position of the sun since that would be part of the back of the astrolabe that they couldn’t access right now. That meant it moved on its own to give them a clue of what was the position of sun for this puzzle was.
Desmond already had an idea what time it wanted though.
He thought it was strange that his birth was on the ceiling when the day he died was the day of the Solar Flare.
Wouldn’t it have more symbolic sense for 12/21 to be found on the ceiling?
No.
Minerva deliberately chose to put the date of his death on the floor.
That was the clue of what time was needed for this puzzle.
His time of death.
Desmond didn’t really remember the exact time he died but he can… just move the astrolabe from midnight.
He remembered that he had tried to activate the device five minutes before midnight. Juno and Minerva appeared to quarrel about the fate of mankind before he could so he would bet it was around midnight or so when he died.
Which meant…
All he really had to do move the rod and the star plate slowly until he got to the time of his death.
As soon as the astrolabe hit 00:07, the astrolabe made another clicking sound and a part of the platform slid open, revealing two panels of some kind on either side.
A very smooth panel the size of Desmond’s hand.
One of the panel was marked with the symbol of the sun.
Desmond was pretty sure what that meant.
“Adha, put your hand there on the count of three” Desmond pointed at the panel without the symbol of the sun.
Desmond counted down and Adha placed her hand over it without any hesitation at the same time Desmond placed his on the other panel with the symbol of the sun.
The pedestal glowed for a moment before the wall in front of the stairs slid down, revealing another room…
Or maybe it was part of the same room?
The ceiling held the same lighting and Desmond froze when he noticed the chair at the end of the newly opened room.
With a familiar hologram sitting on it.
Notes:
The conversation is based on wiktionary page about tiles.
Thanks to MadSyrax for sharing this link that talks about the word they would have used to describe the tiles.
Concerning the calendar, 12th century crusaders wouldn't be using Gregorian calendar. They would be using the Julian calendar. That's what Desmond meant by the 'grandparents of the Gregorian calendar' in the narration.
The Astrolabe is based on this brief explanation
Chapter Text
Desmond raised his hand up to stop the two from following him as he walked towards the chair. Once he was halfway from the two rooms, the hologram of Minerva sitting on the chair with her eyes closed twitched, making Desmond stop. She was wearing the same ratty gray dress she had back in her message in Alamut and it flowed as she straightened on her seat.
She opened her eyes and stared at him as she said in English, “Desmond, I’m glad you’re here.”
Desmond glanced back. The two of them were staring at them but remained quiet. Minerva herself ignored them. Fine. If that was the way she wanted to play it...
He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked towards her, answering her back in English as well, “Well, you have all the answers I need sooooo…”
“Perhaps. That truly depends on what kind of questions you have.” Minerva’s hologram answered before coughing. Desmond stopped walking just when he was about two feet away from her and watched as she wiped her hand on her dress without any care, “It’s alright.”
She sighed and raised her head to stare at the ceiling, “I decided to die in this place, after all.”
“This was a project of a dear friend of mine.” She said, closing her eyes, “He died during the war and my father tried to turn this project into a possible place for us to stay until the world has healed.”
“Just like every other plan we had, this failed as well.” She sighed as she opened her eyes. She lowered her head to stare at Desmond as she continued, “Once we close Iram, there was no way to open it after the Solar Flare. In our effort to make Iram impregnable, we turned it into a grave. The door must be closed during the Solar Flare so that it won’t hit Iram but the energy released by the Solar Flare would short circuit the door. That’s why… Iram stayed open during the Solar Flare.”
She chuckled as she waved her hand dismissively at Desmond, “I closed it after I upgraded the door’s locking mechanism. As long as the door does not close in December 21, 2012, Iram will remain accessible to you.”
Desmond wasn’t even sure if she noticed the way the three of them froze at those words or if she just knew what Desmond was thinking right now.
They weren’t exactly speaking the same English that Altaïr and Adha would be familiar with but it was close enough that they would have an idea of what Desmond and Minerva were talking about.
She waved her hand as if offering something as she said, “You can use this place as you see fit, Desmond. Think of it as my parting gift to you.”
“Seriously?” Desmond blinked.
“Isn’t your Brotherhood all about secrecy and living in the darkness? What better way than to hide in a lost city like this?” Minerva countered before adding, “If you’re worried about its location, if you put the spears back into the hands of the soldiers, the sandstorm will appear once more. You can keep using that until you can build a city on top to hide Iram.”
It always felt weird when Desmond remembered that this hologram was a recording that Minerva did based on what she saw from her Eye about how Desmond would react.
That was why it looked like she was talking to him.
“Then again…” Minerva leaned against her chair, “We both know I do not care at all about your Brotherhood.”
Desmond sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “This… ‘caring’ act of yours is more disturbing than Juno’s. You know that, right?”
“I know.” Minerva said calmly, her face hiding whatever emotion she truly possessed as she continued, “There is no use trying to make you understand that I truly do care about you, Desmond. And you do not have to.”
“Simply use whatever affections you believe I have for you.” Minerva said as if explaining something simple to him, “Use what I have left for you. You are and you always will be our heir. Keep this city or destroy it, that is your right as our heir.”
Her eyes scanned behind Desmond and sighed as she said, “I see you brought him here, as well.”
Desmond glared at her as he took a step to the side, keeping Minerva’s gaze on him, “That’s not any of your business, Minerva.”
“No, it’s not.” Minerva agreed before continuing, “I didn’t send you to this time because of him, you understand that, right?”
“Yeah.” Desmond nodded.
This was the last ‘time period’ where Minerva’s descendants were still alive.
Jalāl would be an only child in the original timeline which meant Raiza never gave birth to any children.
And Adha…
“So… my answers?” Desmond asked instead, not wishing Adha to learn of her ‘destiny’.
“You don’t need to worry about disappearing if you change anything.” Minerva stated, “And I placed you in this time period so you would change what is meant to happen.”
Desmond froze.
Before he could process that bombshell that Minerva just casually stated, she waved her hand and the pedestal opened two more section. One section seemed to house what appeared to be a dagger of some kind with a handle that was giving off a light golden glow. The curved blade also seemed to give off a blue shimmer.
The other section held some kind of item that gave off the same light golden glow. It reminded Desmond of an hourglass and he could see the same blue shimmer inside the glass that held the golden glow.
“My friend forged that dagger using the schematics I made for the prototype sword I left in Alamut for my child.” Minerva told him.
There was a sword for Adha back in Alamut?!
Where???
“The handle holds a program I created after sending you back here. Stab that dagger in the 'door' leading to the inner chambers in the Grand Temple and it will kill Juno.”
Desmond blinked.
Oh.
He walked towards the pedestal as both Altaïr and Adha continued to stay quiet, watching their exchange. He took the dagger and examined it by turning it around slowly. It was lighter than the dagger he had and the blade did give off a blue shimmer whenever it was moved.
“The dagger will act as a timer. When December 21, 2012 strikes, it will activate the device on its own.”
“So just stab this on the door and everything will be okay?” Desmond asked curiously.
“Probably.” Minerva answered, making Desmond frown at her. She waved her hand in dismissal as she added, “If it doesn’t, the blueprints to make another Iram is behind this chair. Take it and use it to create shelters for humans. There’s enough time for your Brotherhood to make a different door that won’t be affected by the Solar Flare… as long as they remember to prioritize that over whatever drivel humans do to hurt one another.”
She paused before adding, “I even added the schematics I used in making the puzzles in this building. I apologize if it’s a bit too much. I was already locked here in Iram when I realized I still had more time than I expected.”
“O… kay?” Desmond had a feeling that Minerva didn’t really think all that hard after the whole ‘kill Juno’ part.
Guess he’d have to think of something.
Wait.
Did Minerva imply that all the puzzles in this room was because she didn’t die immediately and was bored???
A part of Desmond wanted to shake his head at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Another part of him didn’t even want to believe it.
“Until you kill Juno, keep the hourglass with you.” Minerva continued, “It will stop the Eye from seeing anything in a hundred kilometer radius from it. That will keep Juno from finding out about you but she wouldn’t probably care about this time period until it’s time for him to use the Apple.”
Desmond would have assumed she was talking about Rashid but the way she said the word…
He knew she was talking about Altaïr.
So he had until September next year to stab the door…
Far away from where he was right now.
“Desmond…” Minerva called out to him as he was taking the hourglass out of its container. He turned to look at her as she stared at him.
“Come closer.” Minerva said and, if it wasn’t for the fact that she said it in such a gentle voice that surprised Desmond, he wouldn’t have indulged her. Instead, he walked towards her and went down on one knee a little to her right. She leaned close and whispered by his ear, “There is no way to bring you back to your proper time. Hate me if you wish. All I ask is that…”
Minerva closed her eyes as she continued, “You carve your own path and create a brand new future for you. You might feel stranded in this time but... Desmond... you can find happiness here.”
She opened her eyes as she placed her hand on his cheek, “You are not shackled by the Calculations anymore.”
He didn’t feel anything. Her hand wasn’t even cold.
It was simply not there from the very beginning.
No matter how realistic she may look right now, in the end this was all just a recording she left behind.
Underneath the light of her hologram, he could see what remained of her true body.
“Goodbye, Minerva.” He said instead as he stood. He stared at her as he whispered, “Requiescat in pace.”
Minerva’s eyes stayed on his face for a brief moment before she closed her eyes as she whispered back, “Goodbye, Desmond. I hope your new future will be a happy one.”
The hologram disappeared, turning into golden mist that fell down like glowing sands. Desmond stared at the chair for a moment before he took off his bag. He took out the blanket he used to ward against the cold at night and wrapped it around Minerva’s remains. He took the remains in his arms and walked back to the other side of the room.
“Both of you…” He raised his head to stare at the two of them as he ordered, “Take the plans from behind the chair and check for anything we can take with us.”
Adha nodded but Altaïr continued to simply stare at him. Desmond could feel Altaïr’s eyes on him as he walked up the stairs.
But Desmond ignored it.
The center of every land in this city was empty, void of anything other than the road that would lead to every small bridges that connected each piece of land and empty buildings void of anything to differentiate them from one another.
It was big enough to burn Minerva’s remains.
Her remains caught fire easily.
Too easily to be normal.
Perhaps it was that gray dress of hers. Perhaps she had put on some kind of acceleration on her skin before she died.
What Desmond knew for sure was that Minerva had known Desmond would burn her remains.
It was too dangerous to leave it as it was, after all.
Minerva’s remains could be use to take samples of her DNA and, if her DNA was considered as an admin user, it was better if the Templars wouldn’t even be given a chance to take it.
He didn’t know how long he was watching the flames that engulfed her remains, sitting on the floor a couple of feet away from the flames.
Away enough to not be caught by the fire but close enough to feel its heat.
It had gotten too hot though that Desmond had to pull down his shemagh. It was getting harder to breath.
Was it the heat?
No.
It was probably because of Minerva’s words back then.
He felt like he needed time just to think about what Minerva had told him.
The hourglass and the dagger felt heavier than they should be.
He should probably not use that dagger as a weapon though. It was too gaudy.
It would definitely leave an impression.
Now that Desmond thought about it.
He could vaguely recall the same blue shimmer in a sword that once belonged to Altaïr.
No.
It belonged to Adha. She gave it to him back in the original timeline.
Desmond wondered what happened to that sword.
He heard her footsteps first before she stood next to him. She sat quietly and rested her chin over her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs.
They both stared at the fire and Desmond could feel himself relax, being reminded of the quiet nights they shared staring at the fire while waiting for their dinner to cook.
“Altaïr?” Desmond asked quietly.
“Back in the building, looking over the schematics Minerva left.” She exhaled slowly before admitting, “He wanted to follow you but I stopped him.”
Desmond simply hummed to show his question.
“Minerva was my ancestor.” Adha said, tilting her head so her cheek was resting against her knees, “It might sound selfish but I wanted you to share this with me.”
“I understand.” Desmond said softly.
It must have hurt.
The way Minerva ignored her the entire time in her recording, focusing on Desmond alone.
He wouldn’t be surprised if she was angry at him.
“If I ask for the truth…” Adha’s eyes were trained on him even though her face was still looking at the direction of the flames, “… would you tell me?”
“Depends on your question.” Desmond admitted.
“You’re not from this time, are you, Desmond?”
“No.” He admitted, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. He opened his eyes as he slowly exhaled before adding, “I’m from far away.”
“But you’re here to stay?”
“Yes.” Desmond gripped the fabric of his pants as he remained sitting on his heels with his legs folded underneath his thighs.
She stared at him for a few moments before she closed her eyes, “That’s good enough for me.”
“Really?” He turned to stare at her, a frown showing his confusion on his face.
She opened her eyes as she said, “If you’re staying here then we can talk about the secrets you hold another day. Perhaps once you’ve done Minerva’s last request.”
She turned her head to rest her chin on her knees once more as she asked, “Will you be needing my blood for that task, Desmond?”
“No.” He shook his head before he turned to look at the flames, “And you don’t have to return to Alamut with me.”
She didn’t say anything but he could feel her eyes staring at him with an unwavering gaze that threatened to make him uncomfortable. He ignored it as he said, “If you wish to leave this place, to leave everything behind, I’ll help you. I’ll tell them that you died here in Iram, if you want.”
“You…” His words faltered for a moment before he said softly, “You can be free.”
“Desmond…” The way she said his name made him turn to stare at her as she asked, “What does being ‘free’ mean to you?”
He blinked, not expecting such a question.
“To me, being free means being able to make my own choices.” She said as she raised her head at the same time she raised her hand towards the ceiling, “Being free means living with the choices I make and accepting the coincidences of those choices.”
She clenched her hand into a fist as she continued, “And even if those consequences turns out to be dire… to be ones that fill me with pain. I can still tell myself…”
“I don’t regret it.” She lowered her hand and turned to look back at Desmond, “I may make a different choice had I been given a chance to change my past now that I know the consequences I will have to live with but… I will never regret being able to choose for myself.”
“That is what being free means to me.” She said with a smile on her face.
Her smile grew teasing as she poked Desmond between the eyes, “You were just about to fall in love with me, weren’t you?”
Desmond snorted and pushed her lightly, “No.”
“Of course not.” Adha grinned as she commented, “Your heart solely belong to a certain tagalong.”
Desmond shushed her as his cheeks reddened. She chuckled and shook her head before saying, “You two are awful. If I could, I would have walked away and left the two of you for a while.”
“I’m sure you two can do a lot of things in five minutes.” She commented dryly.
“Adha!” Desmond shouted scandalously, earning a burst of laughter from Adha.
“If you need any help on how to pleasure a man, I’ve been educated-”
“Nope. No. Stop.” He covered her mouth and looked away, “This is the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had. We’re not continuing this anymore. Shut up.”
Adha snorted before pushing his hand away, “Fine.”
She stood and stretched, “The flames…”
He looked back at the flames in front of them.
“Yeah.”
It was growing smaller.
Whatever acceleration Minerva used, it went beyond that.
It won’t be long until all that was left from her remains were nothing more than ashes and a blanket too burned to be used anymore.
“I have an empty pouch we can use to place her ashes in.” Adha said softly, “Let’s… let’s bury her ashes in Alamut.”
“She probably won’t care if we dump them in the deserts.”
“I know. I’m not doing it for her.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “We share the same blood and my family was born in Alamut. Maybe she had a child because she needed to continue our bloodline so someone will guide you here but… I like to think she had my ancestor out of love.”
“She… she probably did.” He said, unable to say it with certainty. He stood as he continued, “At the very least, I know for certain she didn’t just have a child because of me.”
Adha was Minerva’s descendant even in the original timeline where she didn’t need Adha to send Desmond a message.
He would never be sure if she had a child out of love but…
“Minerva did things because she wanted to.” He said with more certainty, “So… maybe she will like to rest in the same place as her child did.”
Who knows?
Maybe in the original timeline that was what she did.
Maybe she didn’t die alone in that hidden room.
Maybe she died with her hand being held by her child.
“I think she was grateful in the end.”
“For what?” He asked as he turned to stare at her.
She smiled at him as she answered softly, “Because she didn’t die alone.”
Didn’t she?
Did the recording she left count?
In some ways, perhaps…
She knew what Desmond would say. Her Eye showed her that.
In some way…
It was the same as having someone stay with her until the end.
No matter how complicated their relationship had been…
Desmond supposed…
“That’s…” He took a deep breath as he said honestly, “… good.”
He was glad she didn’t die alone in the end.
Once the flames died out, he walked away while Adha gathered the ashes. Later, when the heaviness of their conversation lighten, he would make a joke of dumping her ashes in his wolfsbane patch.
Adha would probably laugh at his bad joke.
Maybe.
“Desmond…”
Just as Adha said, Altaïr remained inside the building.
To be more exact, he sat on top of the building while their two avian companions ate some sort of dried meat.
“Are they eating your dinner, Altaïr?” Desmond asked with a fond smile.
Altaïr simply shrugged before he jumped down. He handed a circular object to Desmond that he recognized immediately.
A memory seal.
Minerva had kept the schematics on a memory seal.
“She spoke to you as if she knew you personally.” Altaïr said as Desmond took the memory seal from him, “Like one would speak to their child.”
Desmond sighed and put the memory seal in one of his pouches as he said, “She’s not my mother.”
Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he added, “Well… maybe she felt like I’m her child but that’s… completely one-sided.”
“I see…” Altaïr looked at one of the towers, “The plans she left behind for you is one that scholars could only dream of. It would take some time to write it down so you won’t have to show that to anyone else.”
“Are you not going to ask?” Desmond asked as he stared at Altaïr.
“I have many questions but I won’t ask a single one.” Altaïr answered as he turned to stare at Desmond, “I can wait until you’re ready to tell me your story.”
“That’s so not fair, you know?” Desmond said with a small fragile smile, “You make it so hard for me to not fall in love with you.”
“I will take that as a complement.” Altaïr said before chuckling. He looked away as he said, “Al Mualim will be waiting for my report. I must go back to Ḥalab before he sends others to find me. I will tell him that I lost track of you somewhere in Baghdad. That should keep him awa-”
“Altaïr…”
Altaïr felt Desmond grab his sleeve and pull it slightly. He turned to face Desmond once more as he asked quietly, “If I ask you to stay with me this time, would you-”
“I would.” Altaïr answered immediately. He didn’t understand why Desmond’s eyes widened at those words. He had not been subtle at all about how he felt about him. He never tried to be subtle at all. He took Desmond’s hand and entwined their fingers as he stepped closer, “I will stay.”
“I want to stay.”
Altaïr leaned closer as he whispered, “Tell me to stay, Desmond.”
Desmond placed a hand on Altaïr’s neck as he whispered, “Stay.”
Altaïr didn't have any time to answer him as he felt Desmond pull him. This lips touched and he closed his eyes as he squeezed Desmond's hand.
Their first kiss was soft but long.
One that he has long for yet one that surprised him nonetheless.
Still...
Altaïr couldn't help but relax into the kiss.
And its promise of a future at Desmond's side.
Notes:
The description of the dagger and hourglass are based on their appearance in AC Mirage’s Prince of Persia DLC. The sword Minerva talked about for Adha is the one called Sword of Adha that Altaïr gets in Altaïr’s Chronicles. Its appearance on this fic would be more on the side of the Sand Sword from the same Prince of Persia DLC though because the original Sword of Adha looked more European and… uuhhh… writer’s bias? XD
Chapter 62
Notes:
No beta for this chapter due to RL
Chapter Text
In the end, they closed the door to Iram with Desmond’s bag carrying the memory seal that Minerva left behind.
It took a bit of time to get Altaïr and Adha to agree but he finally got them to go on ahead, untying the horses and riding far enough to not be caught by the sandstorm once he started it once more. The plan was to use his connection with Aquila to wait for their signal before returning both spears to the statues.
They would have to figure out a better way to enter this building if they plan to relocate to Iram.
If… they even plan to relocate to Iram in the first place.
Its location was a secret for now, but sooner or later, people would find out about it.
The Templars would find out about it.
Desmond felt like he was going to get a headache just thinking about it.
So he won’t.
He’d push that thought aside and talk to his parents later about Iram… or something.
He had more pressing issues to think about.
As he waited for them to get everything ready, he looked around the statues room once more. Now that he wasn’t focused on finding any clues about Iram, he could see the damage in the walls and the statues themselves.
He could have attributed it to the passage of time had he not seen what looked like tattered fabrics in one corner in the room.
Desmond’s face darkened as his guess grew morbid.
While the building itself had withstand the Solar Flare, something must have killed those who tried to take shelter inside the buildings themselves. Those fabrics looked like what remained of clothes from long ago.
Perhaps they were not spared from the Solar Flare’s heat.
Maybe.
It was purely conjecture at this point but… Juno had made it clear that only a few people would survive the Solar Flare had he not sacrificed himself.
This meant that simply hiding in a building of some sort, especially buildings that must have been more technological advanced during their era, could not protect them.
Once Aquila’s eyes made it certain that they were far enough, Desmond returned the two spears to the statues. He watched them hold their shields with one hand and pull it off the ground before returning to the same position they had when he first saw them. The Assassin insignia on the wall behind Desmond turned as the floor returned to its previous setup, covering the stairs that would lead further down.
He waited until Aquila’s eyes showed the sandstorm appearing above ground before he climbed Juno’s statue to get to the rope. It was more tiring to climb up and Desmond was petty enough to curse Juno’s statue even though he knew that this was normal.
He closed the window as the sandstorm threatened to push him off his feet and untied the rope, returning it to his bag before making his way out of the ruins.
Once he was out of the sandstorm’s range, he connected with Aquila once more and used Aquila to guide the others to his position.
The sun was already going down by the time they made their way towards their previous camp and they decided to rest there once more. While the three readied their camp, the two eagles flew in opposite directions.
Aquila had been proud of the chicken he brought back.
Until Desmond asked him where he got the chicken.
From the way Aquila wouldn’t meet his eyes, Desmond knew that he had taken it from one of the settlements nearby.
Then…
Maud returned, pecking Altaïr until he sighed and got up, telling them that he would be right back as he got on his horse.
When he returned, he had a dead oryx on the back of his horse that he placed on the ground near the fire. Maud perched on the corpse and gave a look at Aquila as she used her talon to tap the oryx’s head where distinct wounds were still bleeding.
Desmond and Adha turned to stare at Altaïr, quietly asking him if Maud truly did kill an oryx by herself and he nodded.
And that was how…
They were having vegetable and root stew with grilled oryx meat and chicken.
Adha had been the one to prepare the meat, proudly showing off the clean cuts she made. Desmond had been impressed, of course. Altaïr plucked the chicken under Aquila’s watchful gaze and Desmond had the feeling this was not the first time Altaïr had to clean up after Aquila’s ill-gotten gains.
Well…
At least, Desmond was sure that Altaïr had eaten something during his journey to Iram. Aquila had been raised to share (sometimes begrudgingly) his food, after all.
“We should have stayed in Iram for the night.” Desmond sighed as he put the rest of the dried vegetables and roots they had into the pot. Adha was in charge of grilling the meat while Aquila sulked next to Desmond, refusing any oryx meat even though Desmond could see the ‘greed’ in his eyes.
Instead, he ate the dried meat that Desmond had left and any chicken meat that Desmond would put near him.
They would have to grill all of the meat they have right now as it was impossible to dry them at the moment so they were set for tomorrow’s breakfast and lunch.
Adha glanced at him before turning her attention back at the meat she was grilling as she dryly said, “I’m sure you two would prefer to ‘sleep’ in one of the buildings there tonight.”
If Desmond was less mature, he would have thrown a piece of chicken bone at her. Instead, he just smiled as he said, “I was actually thinking of how the temperature in Iram would have made for a more pleasant evening for us.”
“I’m sure it would be plea-”
“Adha.” Desmond smiled at her and, with his shemagh down for tonight, she could clearly see his sweet polite smile.
Adha immediately tensed.
“A word.” Desmond said as he stood. Adha followed him as they walked away from the camp. Just a couple of feet, far enough that they could talk without being heard by Altaïr.
Altaïr didn’t even look at them, taking over the stirring of the pot and checking of the grilling meat.
Desmond was sure he could take care of that for a few minutes while he talked to Adha.
“You need to tone it down.” Desmond said with a sigh.
“Tone it down…” Adha repeated thoughtfully before asking, “Oh, you mean I should lessen my teasing.”
“Yes.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck.
“Why should I?” She asked as she tilted her head, “Do I not have the privilege of being the only woman to be able to tease the both of you considering you both used to be my betrothed?”
He winced.
“And I’m sure you both have done more than whatever I’ve-” She paused, seeing the reddening of his face and leaned closer. Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she whispered, “Desmond… you two haven’t…”
“No!” Desmond stepped away and rubbed his face as he groaned, “Why would you even think that?!”
“Well…” She glanced back at Altaïr who was stirring the pot. Aquila hopped next to him and let out a thrill. Altaïr didn’t even bother to look away from the pot as he took out one of the pieces of chicken grilling on the open fire. He blew at it for a moment before handing it to Aquila who opened his wings in delight as he took the offered piece of chicken. She turned to stare at Desmond as she said, “I figured… Altaïr would have… you know…”
“We’re not together!” Seeing her raise an eyebrow, he amended, “… until today. We weren’t together before.”
“But you two have kissed before today, correct?” She prodded, making Desmond shake his head.
“Oh.” She let out a single sound.
And that sound felt so loaded that he couldn’t help but ask, “What?”
“It’s just…” She paused for a brief moment before continuing, “Your kiss had been so full of passion and heat that I assumed you two have kissed many times before.”
She tilted her head once more as she thought out loud, “Then again, if you two have not engaged in any physical show of your feelings for one another, I suppose the heat I saw in that kiss was both longing and desperation.”
“Desperation?” He repeated.
“You two must be quite pent-”
“Nope. Stop. Please.” He covered her mouth just to make her stop, feeling her grin against his palm, “We’re not talking about this anymore, okay? And just… stop the teasing for now… please?”
She patted his hand and he dropped it as she raised her hands in surrender, “Fine, fine. I’ll stop teasing you… until we’re back in Alamut.”
“By the way…” She smiled as she asked, “Have you already thought about what to tell your parents about this?”
Desmond froze.
“I mean… we left to find Iram and you’re returning with…” She thought about it for a moment before suggesting, “… a consort?”
“No. He’s not my…” He groaned.
He actually didn’t know what Altaïr was to him right now. When they parted to catch their breath, Adha had already returned carrying Minerva’s ashes and they all started packing up without talking about it.
They didn’t really talk about what kind of relationship they had, to be completely honest.
It was definitely not platonic, that much was for certain.
Guess he’d have to talk to Altaïr about it sooner or later.
…
Later.
Desmond was going to go for later.
Later turned out to be after dinner. As usual, they took shifts. One to guard while the other two would sleep.
“Still can’t sleep?” Desmond asked as he poked the fire with a stick, watching the wood crackle.
“I rested well enough.” Altaïr said as he stared at the fire as well, “I can’t fall asleep out in the open.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “Me too.”
Altaïr turned to face him as he said, “I don’t mind being called your consort.”
Desmond’s cheeks reddened as he sighed, “I should have figured your hearing would have a bigger range than I remember.”
He dropped the stick and turned to face Altaïr as well as he asked, “Don’t you think being called a consort is much too early? We’ve only… well…”
He rubbed the back of his head as he continued, “We only started…”
Dating?
Could he use the word dating?
Courting?
Would that be better?
“I wish to spend the rest of my life with you.” Altaïr said calmly.
… while Desmond’s heart threatened to explode out of his chest.
“I haven’t been subtle about that.” Altaïr continued, his lips giving a faint smile. He raised his arm and caressed Desmond’s cheek with the back of his hand, “So if you ask me if I would marry you, I will.”
“Well, even if we ignore the fact that men can’t marry each other, I’m not ready for that.” Desmond said as he grabbed Altaïr’s hand. He entwined their fingers as he added, “So… how about we just start from the beginning? Let’s just… let’s take it one day at a time. Let’s spend time together, talk… experience different things together… and play it by ear.”
“Play it by ear.” Altaïr repeated thoughtfully before saying, “Such an interesting phrase. It means that we’ll act without a plan?”
Desmond nodded.
“That’s fine with me too.” Altaïr nodded. His eyes widened a bit when he felt Desmond pull him but he didn’t resist, sitting next to Desmond with their shoulders touching and their entwined fingers resting on Desmond’s right thigh.
“And tonight’s new experience is you sleeping on my shoulder.” Desmond said with a grin, patting his own shoulder with his left hand, “Come on. Try it.”
Altaïr stared at the hand patting the offered shoulder for a moment before chuckling. He tilted his head and rested the side of his head against Desmond’s shoulder.
“My neck will hate me tomorrow.”
“Sssshhh, close your eyes and don’t ruin this romantic moment.”
Altaïr closed his eyes as he said, “What does ‘romantic’ mean?”
“Oh… uuuhh… romantic is, uh, shit. How am I supposed to describe ‘romance’?”
Altaïr’s lips curved into a smile as he focused his attention to Desmond’s voice and the warmth of his body against his.
That night, Altaïr did not fall asleep. Yet, listening to Desmond speak was a relaxing experience he had never felt before.
“Altaïr, are you alright?”
“I’m fine. My neck’s just…”
“Your neck? ……… You have neck problems and Desmond’s voice a bit hoarse… Oh.”
“Adha, whatever it is you’re thinking, that’s not it!”
The best course of action would be to return to Alamut and report to the mentors.
But Desmond figured they could take the long road back and pick up something along the way.
Unfortunately, the universe seemed to decide that he had enough good things going for him right now and laughed at his hubris.
“So the key you need to open this Grand Temple is in the Temple Mount?” Adha asked curiously as they sat on the roof in the poor district of Jerusalem, eating bread Altaïr had bought (with Desmond’s money) for dinner.
“Technically, it’s underground but yeah.” Desmond nodded, sighing as he added, “The problem is there’s no way to get there… yet.”
“You’d have to procure an excavation team.” Altaïr said.
“I don’t have to do anything.” Desmond pointed at himself, breaking a small piece of the bread and giving it to Aquila as he said, “Only this one, okay? You know you’re not supposed to eat bread.”
Aquila cooed as he took the piece of bread, gobbling it up happily like a rare treat.
“Do you plan on asking assistance from someone?” Altaïr curiously asked.
“Nah. The Templars will dig it next year.” Desmond explained, “I’ll just have to be here when they do and grab the Apple before they can get it.”
“So why are we here if you already have a plan to get it?” Adha asked with a frown.
Desmond sighed before replying, “Because I wanted to check if maybe we’ll be lucky or something and I can get it now.”
“Well, it’s too late to continue our journey.” Adha noted before suggesting, “We should look for a safe place to rest then leave for Alamut tomorrow morning.”
“Good idea.” Desmond and Adha stood and Desmond finished his bread as he tilted his head to look at Altaïr who was still sitting.
“I will find you two later. I’ll visit the bureau first.” Altaïr said as he finally stood, “I’ll report to the Rafiq that I heard you’re traveling to al-Qāhirah and I’ll be following you.”
“Oh. That’s a good idea.” Desmond nodded.
Although…
He couldn’t help but feel a bit hesitant to leave Altaïr alone.
“What if we all go together?” Desmond asked before he could stop himself. Feeling Adha’s stare from behind him, silently judging him, he hastily added, “I mean, we won’t go inside the bureau, of course. But we can be close by in case you need… back up.”
“Back up…” Altaïr repeated. Adha looked away but Desmond could hear her snicker.
Of course she would.
Desmond just suggested that Altaïr, one of the best Master Assassins (and, as far as Desmond was concern, the best of them), needed backup.
“Better safe than sorry, you know?” Desmond said, even though he was embarrassed by his own words.
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before his lips curved into a smile as he said, “I would prefer to remain by your side as well, Desmond.”
At that, Adha had to cover her mouth to muffle her laughing.
And Desmond knew that, even if he tried to deny it, no one was going to believe him.
“Safety and peace.”
“Upon you as well, Altaïr.” The old Rafiq nodded at Altaïr as he entered his office. He placed both of his hands on the counter slowly as he asked, “I did not hear word that you would be visiting us.”
“My visit is but a short one. I would ask that you send word to Al Mualim back in Ḥalab.” Altaïr answered as he stood in front of the Rafiq, staring at his wrinkled forehead as he easily lied, “I have learned my target is journeying to al-Qāhirah and I will be pursuing him as soon as we finish our conversation.”
“As busy as always, I see.” The Rafiq chuckled softly as he took out a small piece of paper he can roll and tie to one of their messenger birds. He began to write the message in their code as he said, “It would be nice if you spend the night. My wife has been worried since you haven’t visited us for a while.”
“My past missions had brought me further away from here, I’m afraid.” Altaïr said before asking, “But she is well?”
“Oh, yes. She’s doing quite well. She dotes on the novices we’ve taken in as usual, making them call her setti.” The old Rafiq chuckled as waited for the ink to dry, fondly adding, “She’s in the market right now, buying fish for dinner. Are you sure you cannot rest for a bit even if it’s to indulge an old couple? Have dinner with us at the very least?”
“I’m sorry, Rafiq. My mission is of grave importance.” Altaïr said with a slight bow.
“Of course. Our master’s orders come first and foremost, after all.” The Rafiq said with a sigh and pushed the newly dried paper towards Altaïr so he may check its content. Altaïr nodded, agreeing with the message the Rafiq had penned and the Rafiq pulled the paper closer to him as he continued, “At least take a bag of supplies with you.”
Altaïr paused for a moment before he bowed slightly, “Thank you, Rafiq.”
He walked towards the back door that would lead deeper into the bureau. He placed a hand on the door and paused. His hand went towards his pouch as he opened his mouth but then…
He stopped.
“Altaïr?” The Rafiq stared at him as he asked, “Is something the matter?”
Altaïr shook his head as he replied, “No. It’s nothing. I… I just checked if I have any extra throwing knives. May I take some as well?”
“Of course. Be sure to check your gear before you leave.”
“Thank you, Rafiq.”
Chapter 63
Notes:
No beta for this chapter because RL
Chapter Text
“Des- Vega.” Altaïr corrected himself as he jumped to the roof where he and Adha had been waiting.
“Hey. Adha found a good spot for us to rest for tonight.” Desmond said as he grinned at him, even though he knew Altaïr couldn’t see it thanks to his shemagh. Seeing the solemn expression on his face, Desmond tilted his head as he asked, “Altaïr? Did something happen in the bureau?”
“No. Nothing happened.” Altaïr answered as he stood next to Desmond, “I simply remembered that I still had the message the spy in Alamut wished to give to Al Mualim.”
He took out the folded piece of paper from his pouch and offered it to Desmond as he continued, “The baker in Alamut is Masyaf’s spy. Perhaps it would be better if we take care of him when we return.”
Desmond stared at the letter and made no attempts to take it, making Altaïr tilt his head and Adha stare at him as she asked in a fake deep voice, “Vega?”
“Did you just say… that the baker is a spy for Masyaf?” Desmond repeated as he raised his head to stare at Altaïr.
“Yes.” Altaïr nodded before explaining, “Al Mualim ordered me to contact him first before making my way to the castle.”
“Altaïr…” Desmond took the piece of paper from Altaïr as he continued, “We know that baker was a spy. We kept him alive because we figured a spy we know is better than a spy we don’t know. But…”
“We know him as a spy for the crusaders.” Desmond stated in a deceptively calm tone. He saw Altaïr freeze at those words.
“Does that mean he’s betrayed Rashid? Or he’s betrayed the crusaders?” Adha asked as she took a step towards them, staring at the paper in his hand.
“Or… Rashid is connected to the crusaders in a ‘different way’.” Desmond said.
He knew he was.
But Adha and Altaïr didn’t and it would be hard for them to believe someone like Rashid would be allied with the crusaders.
Because he wasn’t.
As far as everybody else knew, the Templars were loyal to the crusaders.
They didn’t know that the Templars were simply using the crusaders.
And Rashid was simply using them.
He didn’t even know if Rashid was still allied with the Templars right now or if he had finally broken off his allegiance with them.
Considering that he seemed to want the Chalice for his own, it might be safer to assume that he had already betrayed them.
And, more importantly, Desmond had no proof even if he was to tell them the truth.
But he could start sprinkling the doubt in their minds.
Especially Altaïr’s.
He unfolded the paper and read the content of the letter.
It had been a short report.
Just a summary of what was happening in the town and any observation he had about Alamut and the Assassins.
Including the two lies that they had given him using the recruits and one of his ‘loyal’ Assassin customer.
One lie was about how Desmond was to take the mantle of mentor next year. It was a lie to keep Rashid on his toes. They made sure that the recruits would be the one to tell that lie, both as a way for them to practice how to lie as well as to lessen the ‘validity’ of the lie itself by making its source the gossiping of enthusiastic cheerful young men.
Another lie was how they were planning to send more Assassins in their stronghold in Quhistan. This was a lie that would fortify the illusion of Alamut having less Assassins and more soldiers. There was no need to bolster the defenses of Quhistan. It was meant to be a smoke screen as well. The plan was to bring more Assassins back home to Alamut in preparation for whatever would happen between Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn and the crusaders.
But the last report…
‘I have not heard any news or rumors about any passage that leads underneath Alamut. None of the Assassins even hint about it.’
Rashid was looking for the Isu prison underneath Alamut.
This was fine.
The underground passages that would connect to that prison was a secret only given to Desmond’s family. It would be hard for that spy to find it without any help.
Because the most important part was…
“He signed it as ‘poor fellow’.” Desmond noted as he raised his head to stare at Altaïr, “Do you know the importance of that title?”
“It’s part of the phrase I must say to him so he knows I’ve come on Al Mualim’s orders.” Altaïr said, “This poor fellow greets you. That was the phrase I was given.”
Desmond hummed as he folded the paper. Altaïr tilted his head as he asked, “Does it mean something else?”
“Poor-fellow soldier of Christ was the pseudonym that King Alfred used according to one of the records we have in Alamut.” Desmond placed the paper into his pouch, remembering one of the lessons he had with Raiza concerning the history of…
“He was the one who created the Templar Order.”
Altaïr and Adha’s eyes widened at those words and Desmond’s lips curved into a mirthless smile.
“Or… you know. It could just be a coincidence. ‘Poor fellow’ can mean a lot of things. Maybe I’m just reaching, connecting it to the founder of the Templar Order.” Desmond shrugged before adding, “But we should tell the mentor of it anyway.”
And maybe this would be enough to push Alamut to investigate Rashid.
“Desmond?”
They all froze at the sound of a woman’s voice coming from below them.
“Setti?” Desmond was too surprised to stop himself.
She was older, the wrinkles on her face more prominent. Laugh lines formed as she gave them a smile of pure joy as she said, “Oh, it is you. I thought your voice sounded familiar.”
She chuckled as she added, “Although it was hard to understand what you were saying.”
Desmond jumped off the roof to stand in front of her. Setti’s eyes traveled from his head to his feet before returning to stare him straight in the eyes as she said, “You’ve grown.”
“Hard not to.” Desmond lightly replied, making her chuckle.
She turned to look back at the roof where Altaïr and Adha were still standing, watching them.
“I’m so glad you found your brother, Altaïr.”
Desmond’s smile froze and he had never been so glad that his face was hidden by his shemagh.
Adha turned around and kept quiet. Her trembling shoulders, unfortunately, gave away her battle to keep her laughter contained.
Altaïr’s expression remained blank but his tone was a bit hesitant as he replied, “Yes… I… I am glad to be reunited with… Desmond…”
The trembling of Adha’s shoulders intensified and Desmond sighed as he placed a gentle hand on setti’s arm, making the older woman turn to face him once more.
“Altaïr isn’t my brother.” Desmond explained as he dropped his hand, “The… similarities between us is because we have the same ancestor.”
Which was true. Since Altaïr was his ancestor then any ancestor of Altaïr’s was also Desmond’s ancestor.
… and Desmond was just going to bury the sudden reminder that he was pursuing a relationship with his ancestor.
Yes.
He was not going to poke that one at all.
Nope.
“Oh, I see.” Her smile grew as she said, “I must say, I had been surprised when I first met Altaïr. I had thought he was you for a moment.”
“Oh?”
“Then I noticed that he was shorter than you.” She added with a soft laugh.
“You must have seen him as a novice, right?” Desmond’s smile turned into a grin as he asked, “He must have been adorable.”
“Oh, very much so.” She agreed and the two of them laughed while Altaïr kept his blank expression, the slight furrowing of his brows being the only change he willingly let them see.
Desmond noticed it anyway when he glanced at the roof. Adha was now crouching, doing the breathing exercise he thought her.
He had taught it to her as a way for her to calm down.
He didn’t expect her to use it to keep herself from blowing her cover because she couldn’t stop laughing at Altaïr’s expense.
“Since you’re not wearing your robes, is it a secret mission?” She asked with a tilt of her head.
“Yes.” He answered with a nod, “My mission is to steal Altaïr from Rashid.”
“Oh my.” Her eyes widened for a moment before her expression became more concerned as the smile left her face, “I had only seen the master in person once when we stayed in Masyaf while Jerusalem was attacked.”
“But…” She placed a hand on her cheek as she continued, “Even from a distant, an old woman like me can see the power and authority he held. Stealing Altaïr from him…”
She smiled once more as she said, “Well, if he’s staying with you then I have nothing to worry about. I’m sure you’ll find a way to deal with an old man’s complaints.”
Desmond chuckled before saying, “Of course. The old man can complain all he wants. I’m not letting Altaïr go.”
To be completely honest, taking Altaïr might just be the trigger for civil war between Alamut and Masyaf.
But Desmond highly doubt Rashid would ever go that far. He already had his hands full with everything happening in nearby territories and his dangerous dance with the Templars.
Desmond was betting the most he’d do was send Assassins to actually try and kill Altaïr. Something like that would be child’s play for Altaïr.
Desmond heard Aquila’s cry from above them and saw his shadow circling them before flying north.
That was their code that people Desmond didn’t want finding them were making their way north of them.
In this case…
Assassins.
“I’m afraid we must be going, setti.” Desmond said with an apologetic smile.
“I see.” She held the basket filled with ingredients, most probably for tonight’s dinner.
Ah.
That was right.
He did hear that she married the Rafiq of Jerusalem.
“I suppose you’ll only say no if I ask you three to come to dinner?” She asked even though she already knew the answer.
“Yeah. I’m afraid we have prior plans that can’t be pushed back.” He answered vaguely, making her nod.
“I understand.” She took out three pieces of bread and handed it to Desmond as she said, “Here. At least have some warm bread on your journey ahead.”
“Thank you.” Desmond nodded, “Setti…”
“Hm?”
“You’ll always be welcomed in Alamut.” Desmond said softly.
Her smile grew softer as she said, “I hope you do not take this the wrong way, Desmond, but not joining you all those years ago was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
Desmond let out a choked chuckle, surprised by her words. Still, his words were gentle as he asked, “He makes you happy then?”
“Yes.” She nodded, closing her eyes as she said, “And here… I found a new family.”
She opened her eyes as she continued, “I will always miss my son but… I am happy here. My husband is kind and understanding. And here, I see boys that had to grow into men.”
She held the hand not holding the pieces of bread with both her hands, the handle of her basket resting on her forearm, “They are not my son’s replacement but I wish to love them nonetheless. To show them that…”
Her smile held both sadness and hope as she said, “No matter how old they become, they will always deserve a mother’s love.”
He felt her caress his cheek, the fabric of his shemagh pressed between them, as she asked with a smile, “You don’t need such a reminder, do you, child?”
“I…” Desmond hesitated for a moment before he answered quietly, “… Yes. While we might not see eye to eye sometimes, I’ve never once doubted that they saw me as their son.”
“Would be nice if they showed their love for me in a less complicated way like you do to your new sons though.” Desmond joked lightly, making her chuckle as she dropped her hand and let go of Desmond’s.
“The important thing is that you know how they feel.” She answered, seemingly undisturbed by Desmond’s use of ‘they’ instead of ‘she’. Perhaps she already knew that the imam of Alamut has three wives.
“The rest depends on the words you speak to one another.” She continued, placing a hand on top of the handle of her basket, “We can only understand one another if we say what we truly feel.”
“Of course.” He agreed just as Aquila returned to let out another cry.
They were close.
“Setti…”
“Take care of yourself, Desmond.” She said and patted Desmond’s shoulder, “If you ever need an old woman to listen to your troubles, you know where to find me.”
“Yeah.” He nodded before saying, “And if you and your husband ever need to run away from Rashid, Alamut’s gates will always be open.”
She chuckled as she said jokingly, “I’ll be sure to tell my husband that if the need ever arises.”
She turned to look at the roof as she said, “Safe travels, Altaïr. I’m sure Desmond will take good care of you so you should take good care of him as well, alright?”
“I will.” Altaïr said solemnly.
“You too, young Assassin.” She turned towards Adha who simply turned her head to look back at her, her shemagh covering her own face. Setti continued to smile as she said, “Take care of yourself and these two boys.”
Adha nodded silently, her nod a bit awkward, showing how she did not expect the old woman to talk to her at all.
“Safety and peace, setti.” Desmond whispered and she turned to smile at him once more.
“Upon you as well, Desmond.”
They spent the night in one of the roof gardens in the rich district. It had too many pillows for three people so Aquila and Maud were able to rest on a pillow each. Desmond and Altaïr sat next to each other while Maud stayed next to Altaïr and Aquila stayed next to Desmond. Adha decided to lay down across from them and fell asleep, having been given the last shift for the night.
Altaïr had his eyes closed but Desmond knew that he wasn’t sleeping. At least, this counted as some form of rest for someone like Altaïr.
Desmond, on the other hand, dearly missed his mountain of pillows. It took him months to perfect his sleeping quarters, after all.
He wondered if he could make Peredur act as him for another day after they returned so he could just sleep the day away.
Speaking of which…
“You should sleep in my room when we get to Alamut.” Desmond said absentmindedly.
Altaïr kept his eyes closed as he asked, “Is this your way of asking me to-”
“To sleep. To. Sleep.” Desmond stressed as he glared at Altaïr.
Altaïr chuckled and didn’t apologize at all. Desmond’s lips curled into a soft smile, knowing that Altaïr was teasing him. He bumped his shoulder against his as he sighed, “And here I was about to let you experience something better than sleeping on my shoulder.”
“Will my neck survive this one?” Altaïr teased as he opened his eyes, turning to face Desmond.
Desmond changed the way he sat so he would be kneeling as he sat on his heels. He patted his lap as he grinned at Altaïr.
Altaïr stared at his lap for a moment before glancing at Adha.
“To. Sleep.” Desmond stressed once more.
Altaïr’s lips curved into a more noticeable smile and he laid down his head on Desmond’s lap.
His eyes never left Desmond’s face as Desmond looked down at him with a smile, “Better than my shoulder, right?”
Altaïr hummed.
“Close your eyes.” Desmond said softly and placed a hand over his eyes. When he felt Altaïr’s eyes flutter against his palm, he pulled back and began to caress his hair.
“Ever tried growing your hair?” Desmond asked softly.
“No. Al Mualim ordered us all to have short hair.” Altaïr answered, pausing for a moment before adding, “And to shave our face whenever we can.”
“Well… Alamut doesn’t have that rule.” Desmond told him, “So if you wanna try it, you can.”
“Would you like me to?”
Desmond hummed before answering, “It’s not about what I want, Altaïr. It’s about what you want.”
“I want to do what makes you happy.” Altaïr said as he opened his eyes. He stared at Desmond as he raised his hand to caress his cheek, “Because the happier you are with me, the less likely you’d try to run away from me.”
Desmond chuckled as he whispered, “Don’t worry about that. I have no plans to run away from you anymore.”
Altaïr hummed as he lightly gripped Desmond’s hood, tugging it twice. Desmond grinned as he leaned down. Their lips touched before Altaïr placed a hand on the back of Desmond’s neck, pulling him to deepen their kiss.
Across from them, they heard Adha mumble, “I can’t wait until we’re back in Alamut.”
But they both ignored her.
Adha soon got her wish. After leaving Jerusalem at dawn, they had no troubles on their way back. The worst problem they had was Aquila and Maud’s competitiveness earning them more game than they needed which meant there were days when they would eat leftover grilled meat and the two were forbidden from hunting until they’d eaten everything.
Altaïr had managed to get the two of them to even try to put the grilled meat into the stew with roots and herbs Desmond foraged nearby.
It was… okay…
Desmond had Aquila fly ahead once they were near Alamut, both to scout and to inform everyone of their arrival.
What he did not expect was for Aquila to bring back Rawiya, Hamaal and Rahim with him.
… all of them carrying bows.
Desmond positioned his horse to block Altaïr’s horse as his friends reach them, “Altaïr is with us. He’ll be-”
“Oh, this isn’t for him.” Rawiya pointed at his bow, already knowing what kind of misunderstanding Desmond had, “This is our excuse to get out of the castle. As far as everyone else is concern, we’re out hunting.”
“We’re here to… warn you.” Rawiya continued awkwardly.
Behind him, Hamaal looked away, lips pressed tight. Desmond had seen that expression too many times with Adha.
Whatever warning they’d come to give them, Hamaal definitely found it amusing.
“I’m sorry, Desmond.” Rahim rubbed his face as he said, “It’s all that idiot’s fault.”
Knowing immediately who Rahim meant, Desmond asked, “Peredur? Did people realize he’s pretending to be me?”
“Nooo…” Rawiya said, elongating the word in a tone that made Desmond wary, “But… well…”
Rawiya glanced at Altaïr before he explained, “Everyone knew Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad infiltrated your room. The ones patrolling that night rushed to your room and… well…”
“We… had to keep Peredur dangling on your window so they won’t find him and… Hamaal and I…” Rahim rubbed his face once more before continuing, “We were in a lot of pressure, alright? We had to keep Peredur from falling off the tower while pretending we were looking for clues on the damn window and they asked where you were and we panicked and Peredur suggested-”
“We told everyone that you eloped with Altaïr.” Hamaal stated quickly, unable to stop himself anymore. He began to laugh while Rahim looked ready to just jump off the nearest cliff.
Rawiya took over for Desmond’s poor batchmates and looked apologetic as he said, “It… it kinda spread like wildfire all over Alamut. It took all of our efforts to keep it in Alamut.”
“So…” Rawiya glanced at either side of Desmond as he continued, “If anyone ask, you eloped with Altaïr because the imam and his wives didn’t accept your choice of lover and Peredur and Adha were sent to fetch you back?”
Well…
Fuck.
Chapter Text
“Should we just elope?”
Desmond didn’t bother to acknowledge the way his friends turn to stare at them, keeping his attention at Altaïr as he cleaned and prepared the carcass of the prey he had taken down.
During their journey to Alamut, Altaïr had shown interest in learning how to hunt so Adha taught him. There was a part of Desmond that wished to be the one to teach Altaïr how to hunt and prepare meat but a bigger part of him was just happy to see Altaïr and Adha interacting with one another like old friends.
Well, they were old friends.
But Desmond had always been worried that his… relationship… with Altaïr would drive a wedge between them.
If anything, it seemed to have made them closer, more akin to siblings than childhood friends.
And, from the fact that Adha was the only one who didn’t turn to stare at Altaïr, the way her lips were trembling and how she looked too focused on cleaning and preparing her own kill, Desmond had a feeling that the little whisper they had with one another during the time they were hunting was connected to Altaïr’s sudden question.
“No. Rahim already went to get my father.” Desmond answered instead, watching as Altaïr continued to meticulously skin and carve. He was a bit slower than Desmond but that was a testament to his focus on the task. Desmond bet Altaïr would become faster than him with enough time and practice. He wasn’t even surprised that he was not jealous at all. If anything, he was looking forward to it. Desmond tilted his head as he asked, “Why would you even want to elope anyway?”
“According to the report, we’ve only eloped for a couple of days.” Altaïr answered.
The ‘report’.
It took all of Desmond’s will to not scoff.
That wasn’t a report.
That was pretty much his friends confessing they’ve fucked up and they were sorry.
Desmond’s attention was taken by the way Altaïr’s brows furrowed into a little frown that was quite adorable if Desmond was being honest, “I can’t explain it but I feel a bit offended that our fake elopement only lasted for such a short time.”
Desmond blinked before he laughed. The frown disappeared from Altaïr’s face, replaced by a small smile that made Desmond grin.
Rawiya and Hamaal looked at Adha who simply nodded at them. They all looked at one another before turning to look back at their own kill.
Desmond couldn’t even say anything to that because they heard Aquila’s cry from above. They all stood and waited as four horses galloped towards them. The horses stopped a few feet away from them and all of them jumped down from their horses. Rahim grabbed the reins of his horse and Diya al-Dīn’s horse while Hamaal grabbed the reins of the horses that Diya al-Dīn’s guards used.
Diya al-Dīn walked towards Desmond, with his guards walking behind him, and stopped in front of him with Bennu on his left shoulder. Diya al-Dīn smiled as he greeted, handing Desmond his red shemagh, “Welcome home, son.”
“Father.” Desmond bowed slightly as he took the shemagh from him before placing a hand on Altaïr’s shoulder as he said, “I’ve returned after stealing Altaïr from Rashid.”
Everyone stared at him for a moment before Diya al-Dīn chuckled. His smile was genuine and his words were filled with mirth as he said, “I’m afraid that no one in Alamut would ever believe your plan of introducing Altaïr as an Assassin you only stole for his talents.”
Diya al-Dīn tilted his head slightly as he continued, “I’m sure your friends have already told you and I suppose I should say I ‘regret’ to inform you that everything they’ve said has been nothing but the truth. Everyone in Alamut already believed you ran away after we forbade you from courting him.”
Diya al-Dīn chuckled as he added, “The florist’s son even cried when he heard you left to be with the man you love.”
“Who?” Altaïr whispered with a frown.
“Isn’t he married already?” Desmond asked at the same time.
They both looked at one another and Desmond immediately explained, “Oh, he’s like… a year or two older than me? He kinda had a thing for me when I was a recruit. He got married two years ago though to the butcher’s second daughter.”
“A thing…” Altaïr repeated and turned to look at Adha who made a seesaw motion with her hand. Altaïr turned to look back at Desmond as he said vaguely, “I see…”
Before Desmond could question what that could mean, Diya al-Dīn cleared his throat. They both turned to look back at Diya al-Dīn and he suggested, “How about this… We all return to Alamut together and the two of you lock yourself in your room to show how…”
Diya al-Dīn’s smile grew for a brief moment as he continued, “You have agreed to return to Alamut but you are still ‘angry’ at us because we still haven’t reached a compromise.”
Oh.
He was definitely enjoying this entire thing.
Desmond wasn’t sure if he should be glad or worried that he was taking this in stride.
To be fair though…
Desmond was more worried about how the mentors were taking this.
Dvora was, without a doubt, enjoying the drama though.
Nur was most definitely worried about how Desmond was doing.
Raiza was probably worried as well but she’d keep quiet and let the other two talk to Desmond about it. The most she would ask Desmond was what he planned to do now that he poached Masyaf’s best Assassin.
At this point, Desmond was just hoping no one would say he ‘seduced’ Altaïr because hearing that from his parents would be embarrassing no matter how old Desmond was.
Desmond sighed and crossed his arms as he said, “Yeah, I guess we can go with that. I’d love to take a bath in the thermae first though but that wouldn’t really look the part of the whole ‘runaway idiot in love’ look we’re stuck with.”
Desmond noticed the way Altaïr’s shoulders tensed slightly and he patted Altaïr’s back, keeping his hand there as he said with a grin, “It’s not an insult.”
Desmond thought about it for a moment before amending, “Well, it’s a bit of an insult but it just means that’s how much you mean to me.”
“Yes. Enough to try and ignore your responsibilities as the next mentor.” Diya al-Dīn reminded him, making Desmond grimace as he dropped his hand.
“Shit. Those against me being the mentor are probably going to hang this over my head, huh?” Desmond dryly asked.
What a pain.
“I’ll take care of them.” Altaïr said calmly.
Too calmly.
Desmond was sure Altaïr wasn’t thinking of assassinating anyone in Alamut just to stabilize Desmond’s position.
But he was also certain that Altaïr knew other ways to destroy a person enough that they would desire for death themselves.
Desmond tapped the back of his hand with his as he asked with a small smile, “Talk to me first?”
“Of course.” Altaïr nodded.
“We’ll talk about what has happened while you were gone and how we should proceed after dinner.” Diya al-Dīn cut their conversation and Desmond was just going to ignore the way Diya al-Dīn had turned to look at Bennu before he even spoke. Diya al-Dīn turned towards the others and ordered, “I’m afraid it would be best if you all stay here for now and continue with your excuse of hunting.”
Desmond nodded at Altaïr and they both followed Diya al-Dīn as he walked towards the horses even as he continued to give his instructions, “Khalid and the others have smuggled Peredur out of Desmond’s room and he’s staying in Faheem’s room for now but you should pretend that Adha and Peredur stayed with you to hunt and return later. I will have Meekhal come to this location with a cart for all the meat. Only have two of you giving the meat to the people to distract them and have an excuse for how no one saw Peredur ‘return’.”
By the time he had finished giving his instructions, the people returning to Alamut for now was already on their horses.
“Yes, mentor.” Everyone, including Adha, all bowed.
Diya al-Dīn nodded at Desmond as he said, “Shall we go?”
“Yeah.” Desmond nodded, a small smile gracing his lips as he said, “Let’s go home.”
Desmond had expected to be stared at when he returned to Alamut.
To be completely honest, he had wished to return to Alamut as one of the ‘nameless’ Assassins but that went down the drain after he learned that people thought he had eloped with Altaïr.
For one, everyone would definitely pay close attention to any Assassin entering or exiting Alamut. Bored people who craved to learn more about the juiciest scandal were always dangerous.
Plus, the whole elopement thing certainly painted a black spot between the parent-child relationship Desmond had with Diya al-Dīn. They needed to stomp that out. People must see that they were united to help maintain the perceived impregnable image Alamut had.
Otherwise, some idiot might get the wrong idea.
Still…
“Desmond! Isn’t he your brother?!”
“Is that why the imam forbade you to be with him?!”
“Will you still be taking a wife?!”
Desmond has no idea why the villagers had turned into the paparazzi all of a sudden. It seemed to be the younger people who was hurling questions at him. The older people were just staring or trying to smack the ones who had the ‘gall’ to shout questions at them.
“This is why appearing too approachable is a double-edged blade, my son.” Diya al-Dīn commented quietly as his horse walked next to Desmond’s.
Desmond sighed against his red shemagh. So the reason why some of the townspeople believed they could shout question at him was because he had befriended them when they were young?
That sounded like bullshit to Desmond’s ear.
But he did recognize everyone who asked questions and he did remember joking and laughing with them when he had been a recruit. They would always call out to him and talk to him whenever he was walking around town.
“Do we need to make a public statement later?” Desmond asked quietly.
“No.” Diya al-Dīn answered, “We’ll do it as we always do.”
Which meant that some recruits will be ‘talking loudly’ during one of their trips into town and some people would just overhear them.
It was usually the way they did things in Alamut but Desmond was already fearing the way those ‘rumors’ would mutate.
But that was what was expected.
The more the ‘rumors’ mutated, the easier it would be to deny them later on. The truth will be buried deep in the rumors that it could just as easily be pushed aside if the need arises.
Then again…
He did remember how a lot of people would ask him to clarify the rumors they heard whenever he was in town.
Did that… did that accidentally made some of the townspeople believe that Desmond was duty bound to answer any of their questions?
For some reason…
Desmond kinda wished he had agreed with Altaïr’s suggestion that they elope for real.
At the very least, it would delay the inevitable headache he was going to get when he goes to town next time.
Desmond’s room was in total chaos.
Okay.
He was exaggerating. The room was clean and it was clear that his friends had tried to arrange it the way it had been before Desmond left.
Unfortunately, they had failed to replicate the specific way Desmond had arranged his mountain of pillows.
It was the main reason why he had decided his bed would be composed of so many pillows. It was hard for anyone to replicate the exact way Desmond arrange them.
It was another way for him to check if anyone had tried to take out the pillows to check if there was anything underneath it.
There was nothing of note though, of course. The mountain of pillows was Desmond’s red herring for anyone who dared try to look around his room without his permission. The fake documents that would entice anyone trying to look for something in this room was inside one of the pillows and underneath (not inside) the chest.
Speaking of which…
The chest that held his clothes was closed though, a strand of Adha’s hair that he had deliberately asked from her still sticking in the corner of the lid, the exact same length poking out as he had placed before. The robes Peredur used to pretend to be him were folded on top of the chest.
His desk was also left in the same chaotic arrangement that Desmond had done before he left. The only thing different was the jar of wolfsbane paste at the center of the desk with a folded letter on top. Khalid must have left it there. He did promise to make him wolfsbane paste a month ago.
… as part of Desmond’s side-project. It wasn’t really anything revolutionary in terms of tools and such. He had just thought of coating some kind of blade with wolfsbane paste and see if it could be used as poison similar to the poison blade upgrade that Leonardo decoded for Ezio.
The poison Altaïr would later create used other plants but Desmond could only remember wolfsbane.
It did made him wonder…
Was it possible that Alamut had suggested wolfsbane to him in that timeline?
The wolfsbane patch existed before Desmond messed with the timeline.
Altaïr could have also seen it when he visited Alamut after becoming the mentor.
“Did you see the wolfsbane patch outside the castle, Altaïr?” Desmond asked curiously as he turned around to the direction Altaïr was standing.
He noticed Altaïr was staring out the window.
No.
He was staring at something below them.
“Do you see something?” Desmond asked as he walked towards him. He stood next to him and looked down.
He noticed immediately what caught Altaïr’s attention.
The vibrant red color of the flowers below them was bright compared to everything else. Desmond knew Altaïr’s eyes would focus on them immediately.
His own eyes focused on those flowers every day, whenever he would walk towards the window after waking up.
“Once our self-imposed house arrest is done, I’ll show them to you.” Desmond said softly, resting his side against the window sill, “I’m gonna check if Peredur’s been watering them as I instructed after all.”
“You already know he did.” Altaïr said as he placed both of his hands on the window sill, his eyes still focused on the flowers below them, “You wouldn’t have made him your double if you didn’t trust him.”
“That’s true.” Desmond chuckled, “I just want an excuse to look at them with you.”
“You don’t need to make excuses for me.” Altaïr said, turning to face Desmond as he continued, “I know I have put you in a difficult position-”
“Don’t.” Desmond stopped leaning against the window sill and gently grabbed Altaïr’s wrist. The sudden touch halted Altaïr’s words and he glanced at Desmond’s hand before turning his attention back to Desmond.
“Altaïr… I’m not blaming you for this. If anything, I should blame my friends for panicking and blowing this entire thing up.” Desmond reminded him with a soft chuckle. He lowered his hand to grab Altaïr’s own hand as he continued, “So you shouldn’t think that you need to fix this or that you need to do something to make up for this. This isn’t your fault.”
“We’ll talk to my parents and we’ll plan our moves. We’ll get people to help us.” Desmond grinned as he added lightly, “We’ll even rub in the guilt to tease my friends.”
“And we’ll move pass this.” Desmond turned to stare outside as he said, “That’s how we do things here in Alamut.”
Desmond turned to look back at Altaïr as he said, “So no solo plays, okay?”
Altaïr was quiet for a moment before he said, “By solo play you mean I should not take any actions by myself?”
“Well, not exactly.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand as he tried to explain, “It’s more like… you don’t have to take care of everything. We’ll each have a part to do and we’ll deal with the problem together.”
“I understand.” Altaïr nodded and added, “I’m not unfamiliar with the concept. We also do such things in Masyaf.”
“Really?” Desmond frowned at him.
Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile as he used his free hand to cup Desmond’s cheek, “Yes. I will admit that Al Mualim-”
Altaïr frowned and dropped his hand as he said, “I should stop calling him that, don’t I? I should be calling your father Al Mualim instead.”
“I… don’t think he wants that?” Desmond commented with a wry smile, “He prefers to be called ‘doctor’ or ‘mentor’.”
“But he’s not the mentor, is he?”
Desmond froze.
“Am I wrong?” Altaïr asked curiously.
“How… how did you know?” Desmond asked quietly.
“I thought of them as tall tales.” Altaïr admitted as he looked down, “The idea of being able to connect with an animal. To see what they see, to feel what they feel… I thought of them as simply stories.”
“Then…” Altaïr raised his head to stare at Desmond, “We journeyed from Iram and I noticed the times when you would close your eyes. Aquila’s movements would become different. Aquila flies like he rules the sky.”
Yeah, that sounded like him.
“You fly like it’s the first time you’ve taken flight.”
“Are you calling my flying clumsy?” Desmond asked, unsure why he felt the desire to ask such a ‘useless’ question.
Altaïr chuckled and shook his head, “No. I mean that you fly more… ‘enthusiastically’ than him.”
“I see…” Desmond thought about it. No one had ever told him that Aquila’s movements changed when Desmond took control.
Then again…
This was Altaïr.
He probably observed Aquila more than the others because he knew how important Aquila was to Desmond.
“So you noticed how different Bennu moved, huh?” Desmond asked.
Altaïr’s lips curved into a smirk as he corrected, “No. I saw the same golden glow in his eyes as Aquila’s eyes would have whenever you were in control.”
“Oh.” Desmond blinked.
He knew what Altaïr meant.
A lot of people assumed it was simply sunlight hitting the eyes.
“I don’t know that bird enough to know if his movements changes.” Altaïr continued before adding, “But, yes, that’s the reason why I realized that your father isn’t the mentor.”
Desmond sighed.
“Should I keep quiet about this?” Altaïr asked with a tilt of his head, “I do not mind pretending that your father is the mentor.”
“Well… I do.” Desmond said as he squeezed Altaïr’s hand, “I don’t want to lie to you, Altaïr. But…”
Desmond smiled wryly as he said, “It’s also not my place to tell this secret.”
Notes:
I didn’t forget Maud. Don’t worry. She’s gonna make an appearance next chapter.
Oh and Altaïr absolutely do not know what house arrest means. It just so happens he couldn’t find the timing to ask XDAnnouncement:
So I started a poll in Tumblr about this. We all know they're gonna bang at this point so the question is:
Do you guys want that to be
(1) keep this T and make it fade to black
(2) write the smut as part of this fic and turn this to E
(3) write the smut as a standalone fic to keep this fic T
Since I know you many of you don't have Tumblr, you can leave a comment in this chapter and I'll add that to the total. The voting is open until... shall we say... uuuuhhh... the end of May 2024 XD
Chapter 65
Notes:
This chapter is not beta’ed due to RL.
Chapter Text
Diya al-Dīn would love nothing more than to have an early family dinner with Desmond to both understand what had happened and to be sure that he was alright.
Unfortunately…
The fact that he returned with Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad complicated a few things.
“You called for me, mentor?”
“Yes, please sit.” Diya al-Dīn said as he continued to write while Faheem sat on the chair across him. His guards closed the door for them and Diya al-Dīn put his quill down, letting the ink dry, as he raised his head to stare at Faheem, “I would like you to order some of the recruits on cleaning duty today to clean the room next to yours.”
“I don’t think Altaïr would even bother to pretend to use it.” Faheem dryly commented.
“It would still be impolite of us to not give him a room of his own.” Diya al-Dīn countered with a smile, “We should try our best to make him feel welcomed.”
Faheem stared at him before asking, “Is that all?”
Diya al-Dīn entwined his fingers and rested them on the desk. He looked at the paper he had been writing on as he asked, “You’ve known him for years. How sure are you that this isn’t just another one of Rashid’s schemes?”
“I wouldn’t put it pass him.” Faheem answered as he crossed his arms, “That old man would use whatever he can to get what he wants and it’s clear that he wants Desmond for some reason.”
Faheem stared at his right where the desk filled with medicinal plants as he continued, “But that’s part of being a ruler I realized now.”
Faheem turned to stare back at Diya al-Dīn as he continued, “So I wouldn’t put it pass you that you’d use your own son to take back what remains of Umar too.”
Diya al-Dīn smiled mirthlessly but remained quiet. Faheem sighed as he continued, “And like father like son, I wouldn’t put it pass Desmond to actually be the one that did all of these just to get Altaïr to his side.”
Diya al-Dīn chuckled before asking, “Does my son really looked like the type of person who would pretend to be in love with someone and seduce them?”
Faheem stared at Diya al-Dīn for a moment before he sighed, “No. It’s clear that whatever it is he feels about Altaïr, it’s true for him.”
Seeing Faheem frown, Diya al-Dīn asked, “Oh? It looks like you have something in your mind that you do not wish to share to me.”
“That’s true.” Faheem stood as he continued, “I have something I do not wish to share to you.”
“Ah…” Diya al-Dīn smiled as he asked, “Does it have anything to do with how you helped Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad slip into my son’s room when he first came to Alamut?”
Faheem stared directly at him as he asked dryly, “Oh? Did that happen?”
“Of course not.” Diya al-Dīn played along, “There was no report of it whatsoever after all.”
Faheem stood and turned around as he said, “I’ll find the recruits in charge of cleaning this tower today and relay your orders.”
“Thank you, Faheem. I know it annoys you that I let you take on this role when it should be Desmond’s but he’s quite preoccupied right now.” Diya al-Dīn said in an almost cheerful tone.
Faheem just let out an annoyed sigh as he walked towards the door. Just as he was about to open it, Diya al-Dīn’s voice halted his movements, “Alamut’s gates will always be open to your sons, Faheem.”
Faheem turned to face Diya al-Dīn once more as he asked, “And this has nothing to do with the fact that my youngest son is Altaïr’s closest friend?”
“I won’t lie and say it doesn’t.” Diya al-Dīn admitted, “Quite frankly, Kadar Al-Sayf is a weakness that Rashid can exploit for both you and Altaïr. But…”
“I would like it if you see my offer as a sincere one.” Diya al-Dīn continued as he smiled at Faheem, “Families shouldn’t have to be as broken as the Brotherhood is right now.”
“What was Desmond’s word for it again?” Faheem’s expression made it clear that he was simply pretending to think about it. He stared at Diya al-Dīn as he dryly said, “You’re being overly dramatic.”
He rolled his eyes as he added, “Like your son.”
He opened the door as he said, “I’ll deal with that on my own terms. Worry about your own family.”
Diya al-Dīn simply chuckled and watched as Faheem left.
It was adorable how Faheem believed they were just going to let him deal with this on his own. He was part of Alamut now and Alamut was what Desmond liked to call a ‘busybody’ to all she called her own.
Once Diya al-Dīn couldn’t see him anymore, he turned to his guards and said, “Call Desmond and Altaïr. I have enough time to spare before dinner.”
Altaïr looked a lot like Umar.
But he looked a lot like Desmond as well.
It was clear why people assumed they were brothers.
Whatever similarities they shared came from Umar.
Honestly, if Diya al-Dīn didn’t know that Umar’s greatest flaw was his loyalty to the people he loved, he would have thought that Umar did sully the memories of his late wife.
But seeing the two of them together like this…
His son was definitely the more good looking one.
“I believe I covered everything?” Desmond turned to look at Altaïr who nodded. He had been completely silent the entire time Desmond gave his report.
He had also been staring at Bennu the entire time.
“Can you connect with your eagle, Altaïr?” Diya al-Dīn asked curiously.
“I cannot…” Altaïr paused before adding, “Doctor.”
“You can call me Diya al-Dīn.” Diya al-Dīn said with a smile before thoughtfully adding, “Although it would be better if you call me mentor when we’re in public. No need to get everybody else thinking that you’re disrespecting my supposed role.”
He turned to look at Bennu who tapped his right talon twice before he turned to look back at Altaïr as he said, “I’m afraid the real mentor does not wish to see you yet.”
“I understand.” Altaïr nodded.
“We are not questioning your loyalty to our son though.” Diya al-Dīn added with a smile, “May I ask a hypothetical question?”
Altaïr nodded silently once more and Desmond looked at Diya al-Dīn warily.
“If I tell you that the only way for us to accept your relationship with our son is if you assassinate Rashid, what will you do?” Diya al-Dīn asked with a smile.
“Father!” Desmond stood as he glared at Diya al-Dīn.
“I’ll ask Desmond what he wants to do.”
Desmond’s head turned to stare at Altaïr who kept staring at Diya al-Dīn as he continued, “He knows you more so he would have an idea if what you’re offering is sincere or if it is a test.”
“Any actions taken against Rashid-” Diya al-Dīn noticed the awkward almost hesitating way Altaïr said Rashid’s name but kept quiet, listening to the young man as he continued, “-would also affect Masyaf. If we are not careful, it could lead to a war between Masyaf and Alamut.”
“And…” Altaïr’s golden eyes unnerved Rashid, “… we already have another way to take Rashid out.”
It wasn’t the color.
Diya al-Dīn thought they were interesting, having never seen such color before in one’s eyes. But they reminded him of the eyes of those who used their Sights.
He wondered if Altaïr saw the world differently.
But more importantly…
What unnerved him were the ways they looked at him.
They didn’t hold the warmth that he remembered from Umar’s eyes.
It reminded him of Rashid’s eyes.
It was the way he stared at people, the way those calculating eyes hid whatever emotions he truly had that made Diya al-Dīn understood that, as much as he was Umar Ibn-La'Ahad’s son…
He was what could be considered the closest 'entity' to being Rashid al-Din Sinan’s son as well.
“Ah, you mean his connection to the crusader spy.” Diya al-Dīn said as he rested his back against his chair. He began to tap his point finger against the table as he noted, “It will be hard to connect the two when all we have is the message you kept and your testimony.”
“The message had no indication of who was meant to read it. The baker made sure that it would not compromise anyone at all.” Diya al-Dīn took out two pieces of paper and placed them on the desk, “He even wrote it differently from how he would write for those who wish to send letters but do not know how to. Everyone knows it’s his other job.”
“Which means that he could just as easily say that he didn't write this.” Desmond said.
“And there’s also the possibility that there is someone assisting him and that’s the one who wrote that message.” Altaïr suggested calmly.
Diya al-Dīn nodded, “I’ll have someone check all other records we have about those who can write here in Alamut and see if anyone has a similar handwriting. Of course…”
“There’s also the possibility that whoever wrote the message is hiding the fact that they can write.” Desmond added and Diya al-Dīn nodded at him.
“We will talk on how to proceed with Rashid’s betrayal and what we will do about it. For now…” Diya al-Dīn smiled as he said, “Just act the way you do around Desmond and let everyone know that you’re here because you have fallen for my son.”
Diya al-Dīn’s smile dimmed as he added, “I will not say that it would solve everything but it is only when they see the truth can they see your sincerity.”
Diya al-Dīn’s smile grew a little apologetic as he continued, “I’m afraid I will have to take Desmond for dinner today. His mothers and younger brother have dearly missed him after all.”
“I understand.” Altaïr nodded once more and Diya al-Dīn’s smile grew softer.
“Regardless of the circumstances that led you here. From the bottom of my heart…”
“Welcome to Alamut, Altaïr.”
His dinner was quite good.
It was obvious that the meat cooked for today’s dinner was from the meat they had hunted while waiting for Diya al-Dīn. Altaïr was curious if the meat Desmond prepared was in this dish.
Altaïr heard that they always share the meat with the townspeople as part of the tradition started by Desmond but the ones Desmond prepared himself were always for the castle.
It must have endeared him to the people.
“Do you have any questions?”
Altaïr raised his head so he could tilt his head as he looked at Faheem. Faheem sighed as he clarified, “About Alamut. Do you have any questions about Alamut?”
“I can just ask Desmond when he gets back.” Altaïr answered, returning his attention to the dinner that a recruit had placed on Faheem’s desk while Altaïr was in his office after Desmond followed his father out of the tower. Altaïr had passed the time reading a book from Faheem’s desk while Faheem worked.
The recruit’s face paled when he saw Altaïr reading so he didn’t acknowledge him, knowing by experience that trying to make small talks would probably frighten the boy more.
That was why he let Kadar talk to the recruits first to tell them that Altaïr wasn’t going to insult them and their mother if they make a mistake in his presence, no matter what Abbas say.
Of course, that only changed their fear to admiration and awe because Kadar always spoke too much.
“I see…” Faheem frowned at his own meal and Altaïr waited while eating. Faheem had the same frown that Malik would have whenever he wanted to say something but was stopping himself, trying to think of a better way to say it.
Altaïr usually saw it whenever he was talking to Al-
Rashid.
His name was Rashid.
“It would be nice if you could befriend some of them though, instead of simply staying by Desmond’s side all the time.” Faheem suggested with eyes still focused on his own meal while Altaïr took another bite.
Altaïr understood why Faheem was suggesting this.
It would be better for his standing in Alamut if he would have the support of other Assassins.
Which, in turn, would help solidify Desmond’s rule as the mentor in the future.
“I will try and speak to Peredur tomorrow.” Altaïr said, blinking when he saw Faheem pale.
“Why Peredur?” Faheem asked and Altaïr tilted his head once more.
“He’s friends with Kadar. Kadar once told me that he talked about me in his correspondence with him.” Altaïr explained calmly, curious about the way Faheem’s eyes widened when he said the word ‘correspondence’.
Did Kadar not mention to his father that he was exchanging letters with Peredur?
Altaïr hoped he did not unintentionally revealed a secret that Kadar was keeping from his father.
Since it didn’t look like Faheem was going to say anything, Altaïr continued, “I figured it would be the easiest to try and ‘befriend’ him since Kadar had already talked about me to him.”
Not that Altaïr believed he could actually befriend anyone.
At most, he expected that Peredur would accept his apology for the rough treatment he had gotten from Altaïr back when he visited Alamut for the second time and that would help Peredur say that ‘Altaïr wasn’t all that bad’ to the others.
“Peredur is currently… preoccupied.” Faheem said with a sigh, “He’s in the room next to mine…”
The silent ‘the room that we prepared for you but we both know you’d never use’ was left unsaid but it was the way Faheem spoke of Peredur’s location that reminded Altaïr of Kadar’s penchant of saying something while hinting on another thing that annoyed him.
Malik, on the other hand, was honest and didn’t bother to do such ‘games’ to show his displeasure unlike his father and younger brother.
Altaïr’s attention returned to Faheem as he continued, “… and it would be… better if you don’t visit him for a while.”
Altaïr frowned as he asked, “Is it my fault?”
Faheem grimaced once more and Altaïr’s frown deepened as he said, “I don’t think I hurt him when I pinned him to the floor. If I did-”
“Oh, it’s not that.” Faheem stopped him with a sigh, “Peredur’s a… writer and he’s been writing nonstop since…”
Faheem hesitated before saying instead, “… well, for a while now. It took five people just to transfer him out of my room today and it would be better for everyone involved if we let him be. When he finishes writing, you can talk to him.”
“I see.” Altaïr nodded.
Faheem sighed before saying, “I’ll introduce you to some of the… calmer scholars some other time. It might be better if you endear yourself to the scholars first.”
Faheem paused before adding, “As long as you promise not to incite all the scholars into debating with one another.”
Altaïr shrugged as he said, “I was twelve.”
“One of them tried to kill a fellow scholar.” Faheem reminded him.
“It’s not my fault his defense was weak and he lost his composure, resorting to physical violence and trying to choke his opponent instead.” Altaïr said calmly.
Faheem simply sighed and hoped that he wouldn’t regret introducing Altaïr to the scholars.
While nobody would say it out loud, Altaïr knew he was almost like a prisoner. That was why he asked Faheem to request that someone ‘escort’ him out of Alamut.
“Would it not be better if I was to be escorted by someone not in Desmond’s inner circle?” Altaïr asked as they walked the forest they had hunted a while ago. They traveled via rooftop and the Assassins escorting him followed closely. He could feel their eyes trained at him, watching his every move.
When they reached the stables, Altaïr took the horse one of them gave him (which wasn’t the same horse he had when he came into Alamut) and they journeyed towards the forest in silence.
Altaïr figured that walking in the forest was the best time to finally ask what was bugging him.
“Desmond’s probably going to beat us if we don’t keep you safe and, right now, we don’t know if there’s any Assassin outside Desmond’s inner circle that wouldn’t start interrogating you if they were your escort.” Rawiya said with a smile before adding, “Plus, this is much interesting than night patrol.”
“I won rock-paper-scissors.” Hamaal answered, “Everyone in our batch wants to meet you, by the way.”
Altaïr recognized both of them from Desmond’s letters so he knew that they weren’t lying. Of course, the fact that they were trusted by the other Assassins enough that they’d believe them if they were to say Altaïr didn’t do anything strange outside would help to.
“Rock-paper-scissors?” Altaïr asked instead, tilting his head.
Hamaal grinned and stepped closer as he explained the game that Desmond taught them when they were recruits. Altaïr listened quietly, interesting in the game itself but also waiting for the real reason why he was in the forest in the first place.
“I think I get it.” Altaïr nodded and saw the challenging smirk on Hamaal’s face.
Well…
It wasn’t like he had anything better to do and Hamaal was one of Desmond’s friends.
So he’ll humor him for now.
“Shall we give it a try?” Altaïr asked as he closed his hand as Hamaal has instructed as the ‘ready stance’ of rock-paper-scissors.
“Sure.” Hamaal closed his hand as well, “Let’s try it once first?”
Altaïr nodded.
They started to shake their hand in time of Hamaal’s words, “Rock, paper, scissors!”
Once Hamaal said scissors they changed their gesture to their chosen ‘weapon’.
Altaïr picked scissors.
Hamaal picked paper.
“Oh, that’s pretty good!” Hamaal nodded before asking, “Best of three?”
“Sure.” Altaïr nodded.
On their second bout, they both picked scissors.
On their third bout, Altaïr picked scissors while Hamaal picked rock.
“You know you can pick rock or paper, right?” Rawiya asked, looking a bit concerned.
“No, this is all part of his grand plan, isn’t it?” Hamaal asked with a grin, “You’re making me think you’ll always pick scissors but then, in a crucial moment, you’d change to paper.”
“No.” Altaïr answered carefully, raising his hand to show his point and middle fingers still forming the gesture for scissors, “I will keep picking scissors.”
They both blinked.
“Uuuhhh…”
“You’re not lying, are you?” Hamaal asked with a frown.
“I will keep picking scissors.” Altaïr repeated.
On their fourth bout, Altaïr picked scissors while Hamaal picked paper.
“Oh, you were serious.” Hamaal blinked at him, before narrowing his eyes, “Or are you trying to get me to lower my guard down?”
“I’ll pick scissors again.”
On their fifth bout, Altaïr picked scissors while Hamaal picked scissors.
On their sixth bout, they both picked scissors once more.
Hamaal stared at Altaïr.
And Altaïr stared back at him.
“You’re trying to mess with my mind, aren’t you?”
“I will pick scissors again.”
They readied themselves.
“Rock…”
“Paper.” Altaïr said at the same time as Hamaal, making Hamaal’s eyes widened.
It was the first time Altaïr joined him.
Was it a ruse?
Or was it a clue?
No.
“Scissors!” Hamaal said all by himself.
Hamaal had picked scissors.
And Altaïr had picked rock.
“That’s three points to Altaïr. Altaïr wins this one.” Rawiya announced, actually looking surprised.
Altaïr nodded before turning to face his right, “Hamaal…”
Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smirk as he said, “I lied.”
“Oh, you motherfu-” Hamaal’s words were drowned by a loud cry and Altaïr raised his arm above his head. They watched as Maud landed on Altaïr’s arm without even acknowledging the other two.
Altaïr slowly lowered his arm until their eyes were at the same height.
“Maud… I will be remaining here in Alamut for as long as Desmond will have me.” Altaïr informed her. Rawiya and Hamaal looked at one another but didn’t move.
It felt more awkward to move right now while Altaïr was conversing with his eagle.
Honestly, they had expected him to take a few steps away from them before talking to Maud. To get some form of privacy.
Altaïr didn’t care about any of that.
It was better for them to hear what he was about to say, after all. This way, they would be sure that Altaïr wasn’t planning anything nefarious.
“I know you would prefer to not stay in Alamut so I will not ask that of you.” Altaïr said solemnly, “If you plan to stay here, I will visit you as often as I can.”
Altaïr paused before he added, “If you are alright with that.”
“Of course, if you wish to leave me here, I would understand.” Altaïr added as he caressed Maud’s back softly.
Maud stared at him for a moment before she turned to stare at the two Assassins with Altaïr. Rawiya actually felt like she was ready to gouge out their eyes so he suggested, “We’ll just…”
Rawiya turned around so he wasn’t facing them anyway and Hamaal followed suit quietly.
“You can’t hurt them, Maud. Desmond would not like that.” They heard Altaïr said calmly.
They could hear the movements behind them but they couldn’t figure out what was making such soft noises.
“Are you sure?”
There was another soft sound most probably coming from Maud.
“Very well. If that is your choice, I will respect it.”
They heard the flapping of wings and then… silence.
“Let’s go.” Altaïr said and they both turned to face him, already ready to comfort him-
Only to find the eagle they expected to have flown off was resting on Altaïr’s shoulder.
“Oh, is she… coming?” Rawiya asked curiously, having heard about Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad’s independent eagle from Desmond himself.
Altaïr turned to face Maud who just glared at Rawiya. His lips curved into a small smile as he said, “Yes. She’s coming with us.”
Chapter 66
Notes:
No beta because of RL.
ANNOUNCEMENT:
araydre from Tumblr created an AMAZING fanart for this story! Please check it out and give them love!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“De!”
Desmond’s lips curved into a grin as he went on his knees and opened his arms just in time to catch Jalāl who jumped into his arms. Desmond chuckled and returned Jalāl’s tight hug, kissing his temple and earning a giggle from his younger brother.
“Hey, Jalāl.” Desmond whispered as he kept his hold on his brother while standing. Jalāl got comfortable in his arms as Desmond placed one hand underneath Jalāl so he could sit on his arm. He placed his other hand on Jalāl’s back to keep him steady while the young boy pulled away so he could look at Desmond’s face, his chubby hands gripping the fabric of his robes as he gave him a toothy grin.
“Hello!” Jalāl shouted joyfully once more.
“So? How was your day?” Desmond asked as he began to walk inside the harem. The servants bowed as they passed and he nodded at them as he listened to Jalāl talk about his lessons for today and how he spent his break watching Kāve train with Zain.
“De, De.” Jalāl patted Desmond’s cheek lightly, “Me too!”
“You want to train too?” Desmond asked lightly, his smile growing when he saw Jalāl nod furiously.
“I suppose I can ask Zain if he can train you with Kāve.” Desmond thought out loud. He knew for a fact that Zain was training his cousin the foundation necessary for the recruits’ training which Kāve will be joining once he was of proper age.
Jalāl was still too young for such a thing.
And, honestly, Jalāl was even younger than Desmond when his training started on the Farm.
He’d ask Zain to train Jalāl with the basic stretches and exercise.
He was not completely on board with having Jalāl train to be an Assassin at such a young age but physical exercise to keep him healthy and help develop his body would be alright.
He’d talk to their parents once Jalāl was a bit older about his training once Jalāl understood what it meant more.
“No!” Jalāl hugged Desmond’s neck tightly and shook his head, rubbing his cheek against Desmond. Jalāl giggled and pulled back, rubbing his cheek with one hand as he said, “De’s prickly!”
“Ah, sorry about that. Hard to shave out there.” Desmond said as he rubbed his cheek against Jalāl once more, making the boy shriek as he tried to pull away.
The servants bowed as they opened the door leading to the dining room.
Desmond’s stomach growled as soon as he smelled the heavenly scent of the food laid out on the short dining table. All of them sat on pillows and Desmond was pretty sure that it was because one of the wives preferred to dine while sitting on pillows instead of chairs.
At least, Desmond hoped that was the case considering all the sitting arrangement in the harem that he had seen didn’t use chairs.
He hoped that they weren’t shackled by traditions and that they simply liked to sit in pillows.
He went down on one knee and let Jalāl stand on his own. Jalāl grabbed his hand and they both walked inside the dining room. Instead of going straight to the table, they walked towards the door to their right. A servant opened the door for them and Desmond helped Jalāl wash his hands before he did the same. By the time he returned to the dining table, accepting the piece of cloth to dry his hands from the servant with a quiet “Thank you”, Jalāl’s own hands were being dried by another servant while Jalāl tried to do it himself.
Desmond took over for the poor servant and let Jalāl dry his hands. Jalāl was rubbing his hands against the cloth a bit too hard and that was what was giving the servant a hard time, worried that he might hurt himself or that she might hurt him accidentally. Desmond simply stayed still as he said gently, “Slow down, asfoor…”
Jalāl stared at the cloth with a look of solemn concentration but he did slow down his rubbing and let Desmond pat the back of his hands and wrists before he handed the cloth to the servant that tried to help him first. Jalāl gave her a smile as he said, “Thank you!”
The servant smiled back and bowed slightly as Jalāl returned to his brother’s side. They walked towards the table where all three of their mothers were sitting on one side of the dining table and Desmond led Jalāl to stand on the opposite side.
“Good evening.” Desmond and Jalāl greeted with a slight bow.
“Good evening, dear children.” Dvora greeted back and waved at them, “Come, sit.”
Desmond and Jalāl sat and the servants placed a cup of tea in front of them before quietly stepping back. Desmond relaxed, recognizing the scent of hibiscus. He took the cup and blinked when he noticed the seeds in his tea.
“We managed to procure a few pomegranates two days ago.” Dvora explained with a smile as Jalāl took a sip of his own tea, “Hibiscus tea with honey and a few seeds of pomegranate was supposedly how the Hidden Ones used to drink them.”
“I see…” Desmond said quietly before taking a sip while Jalāl’s face scrunched in concentration, most probably because he was now chewing the pomegranate seeds in his own tea.
It was different from the hibiscus tea that he would share with his father or with Faheem.
Faheem’s tea had a stronger hibiscus taste.
His father’s tea had more honey in it.
This was more balanced with the pomegranate seeds creating a new experience as Desmond chewed on them. The burst of flavors from the seeds made the flavor of the tea have another layer to it.
He could see why the Hidden Ones liked this kind of tea.
And he could see why a lot of Assassins from old families preferred to drink hibiscus tea. They probably got their penchant for it from this traditional Hidden One tea.
The door opened once more and Diya al-Dīn walked in as he said, “Apologies for being late.”
“It’s fine.” Raiza said with a nod as Diya al-Dīn sat on the head of the table with Raiza to his left and Desmond to his right.
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a smile as he noticed the food prepared for their dinner, “All of Desmond’s favorites are here, it seems.”
“Of course.” Dvora answered with a big smile, “We must celebrate our son’s return.”
“No party?” Desmond leaned towards Nur as he whispered loudly.
“No party.” Nur whispered just as loudly while leaning towards him, making Desmond snicker as they leaned back. They both ignored Dvora’s overly dramatic glare.
“No party?” Jalāl asked with a frown.
“Not for now, asfoor.” Desmond said as he lightly ruffled Jalāl’s hair, “But maybe next year.”
“Okay!” Jalāl agreed easily and they waited for Diya al-Dīn to start the Du’a.
Desmond relaxed even further. He had always felt a bit uncomfortable having to precede over the Du’a when he was traveling with Adha and, later, when Altaïr joined them in their journey.
Once Diya al-Dīn finished praying, they waited for him to take the first bite before they started to eat once more.
“So… Desmond…”
Here it comes…
“What kind of man did you bring back?” Dvora asked in an almost singsong manner.
Desmond’s lips curled into a grin, refusing to show his embarrassment, as he answered, “A wonderful man. The best Masyaf has to offer, in fact.”
Dvora laughed at his answer while Nur and Diya al-Dīn chuckled. Raiza’s lips curled into a small smile and Jalāl looked curiously at everyone.
“New friend?” Jalāl asked curiously, making Desmond’s grin turn into a small smile as he looked back at his younger brother.
“I’m sure he’ll love to be your friend, Jalāl. I’ll introduce him to you tomorrow, okay?” Desmond suggested, making Jalāl nod.
“Okay!” Jalāl said before returning to his meal.
“Altaïr will be staying in the mentor’s tower.” Diya al-Dīn announced, “His room is next to Faheem’s.”
The fact that he would probably never sleep there was left unsaid.
But Desmond did catch Dvora’s raised eyebrow aimed at him. Desmond just shrugged.
“And Adha?” Raiza asked as she kept her eyes trained on her own plate.
“She will continue her training.” Desmond answered calmly, having already talked about it with Adha while they were traveling, “She will be joining the recruits next week. I’ll talk to Oded to decide which batch she’ll join. Her skills are on par with a novice with half a year of field experience already but it wouldn’t hurt for her to be part of a batch that would have their initiation next year. The batch she joined before we left will be having their initiation next year so that batch is my first choice.”
“Why not the batch that will be initiated this winter?” Raiza asked as she raised her head to stare at Desmond.
“I want Adha to have time to connect with her fellow recruits. Be friends with those she can learn to trust.” Desmond answered with a smile, “Just like I did.”
“I see…” Raiza lowered her head once more.
A second was spent in silence before Diya al-Dīn cleared his throat and said, “I agree with your plan, Desmond. This will also give the other Assassins more time to… ‘get used’ to Adha’s presence in the castle.”
Desmond nodded his agreement.
Dvora smiled as she asked, “And how was your trip, Desmond? Did you see anything interesting?”
Knowing the question was meant to push their conversation away from his actual mission and to talk about safer topics in the presence of other people around them, Desmond smiled as he said, “Oh, yes. The road we traveled wasn’t the usual one I usually take when I’m making my way to Ḥalab. We even passed Khalid’s hometown.”
“Oh, how fascinating. How was it?”
After dinner, Desmond walked Jalāl outside where Zain and Kāve were waiting with Diya al-Dīn’s guards. He kissed Jalāl’s forehead good night and accepted the good night kiss Jalāl gave him on the cheek before walking with Zain and Kāve. He had started to sleep in his room in the castle with Kāve sleeping nearby while Zain guarded them. Because of this, Zain would sleep during Jalāl’s lessons where other Assassins would take over as his guard.
Once he was sure that Jalāl was inside the castle, he returned to the harem and went straight to the gardens where his parents were waiting.
He sat on his usual spot, in front of his parents and waited.
“Do you believe that Rashid has betrayed the Brotherhood?” Raiza asked the moment all of the servants had left the gardens.
He knew he did but…
“We cannot act without any proof to show his betrayal.” Desmond said instead, “If we are not careful, we risk igniting a war between us and Masyaf.”
None of his parents called him out for saying something similar to what Altaïr had said before.
It was the truth, after all.
“Then we must find proof.” Nur suggested, turning to look at Diya al-Dīn, “We will proceed as you have said and look into the crusader spy and any co-conspirator he might have.”
Diya al-Dīn nodded silently.
“We will form a team to look into Masyaf’s ‘actions’ since the crusaders started this ‘holy’ war of theirs.” Raiza continued.
“We might have to look even before that. Desmond…” Dvora called out and Desmond turned to look at her, “Do you remember the strange movement you told us when Jerusalem was about to be attacked?”
Desmond remembered it immediately and he nodded, “Rashid ordered that all Assassins and informants in Jerusalem leave the city even before we were sure that an attack was imminent.”
Dvora nodded and turned to look at her fellow mentors and husband, “We should look into his actions that time as well. There’s a possibility that he has been in contact with the crusaders even before then.”
“And we must take note of the movements of the other Assassins from Masyaf.” Raiza added, “Rashid would have to have more than one Assassin that knows of his alliance with the crusaders as he would need someone who could meet with them since he himself cannot leave Masyaf without making people curious of where he’s going. And, of course, we should still be suspicious of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.”
“Raiza…” Dvora hissed.
“It’s fine. I understand.” Desmond said before asking Raiza, “It’s how he was promoted into a Master Assassin, isn’t it? He got his promotion by killing a Templar who had taken Rashid and laid siege to Masyaf last year.”
Raiza nodded silently.
Desmond lowered his head as he calmly gave a counter to Raiza’s concern, “It’s also possible that Harash did not know that Rashid is already a Templar at that point. He might just be trying to get some brownie points from the Templars without knowing who was allied with the Templars and who weren’t.”
“Haras.” Nur corrected, making Desmond tilt his head, “The one Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad executed for trying to take over Masyaf last year was Haras. Harash is Rashid’s keeper.”
“Oh.” Desmond said but didn’t bother to say anything more.
“It’s possible Harash is also in league with Rashid if he has betrayed the Brotherhood.” Dvora said, most probably trying to defend what she believed was Desmond’s mistake, “If anyone can contact the crusaders without alerting the Brotherhood and report to Rashid in private without anyone questioning it, it would be his Keeper.”
“That’s true.” Raiza agreed solemnly, “Another team must be sent to survey Ḥalab then. To both keep an eye on Rashid and to follow Harash if he leaves Ḥalab.”
Desmond knew that Harash was a Templar. The Templars learning of Altaïr’s movements when he was with Adha in the original timeline was attributed to Harash leaking the information and he was one of the last targets Altaïr assassinated after the Templars took Adha.
Now that Desmond was fully changing the timeline, he had to take down the Templars connected to Adha’s death in the original timeline. Both to keep Adha safe and to ensure that the Templars wouldn’t be more powerful next year when the Templars would have opened the way to the Apple underneath the Temple Mount.
“The Templars are also trying to find a way to capture me since they still believe I’m the Chalice.” Desmond said, “Rashid told Altaïr that he wants to protect me as the Chalice so either he used Altaïr’s feelings for me to try and get me without having to rely on the Templars’ plan or…”
“They both wish the same thing but they are not necessarily allied with one another.” Raiza continued when Desmond paused. Desmond nodded at her as she thought out loud, “Either they were never on the same side, which meant that Rashid did not betray us, or one side betrayed the other. We cannot forget that there is still the possibility that he only pretended to betray us to get more information about the crusaders or to lead them to a trap later down the line.”
“Rashid already betrayed us when he took over Masyaf and turned it into his personal army.” Desmond reminded him.
“He still adheres to the Creed and our tenets.” Diya al-Dīn said, speaking for the first time since they started their conversation.
“As far as we know.” Desmond stressed.
Raiza raised her hand as she said, “And that is why we need proof that Rashid has betrayed the Brotherhood. Undeniable proof that he has colluded with those who use their power to oppress and hurt our people or that he has used the loyalty of his Assassins to further his own personal agenda, whether it be power, riches or authority.”
Raiza lowered her hand and continued, “Desmond, compile a list of Assassins that you believe have the experience and are loyal to the Creed. Your father will review the list and assist you in finalizing who will be sent to Ḥalab, Acre, Damascus and Jerusalem. You will present us with the finalized list three days from now. We will talk about the route they will take and what they will focus on when you present the list.”
“Understood.” Desmond bowed slightly before raising his head as he asked, “May I suggest that another team infiltrate one more location while Rashid is in Ḥalab?”
Everyone’s eyes widened as they immediately realized what location Desmond was talking about. Raiza took a deep breath before saying, “Very well. We will include Masyaf as another location but… we will only approve of sending a team to Masyaf once we see who you have decided to put on the list.”
“Thank you, mentor.” Desmond bowed slightly once more and saw Raiza nod at Nur.
Nur stood from her seat and walk towards him as Raiza continued, “We will end our meeting there. If there is any need to talk once more, we will inform you during our meal time or your father will contact you.”
“Walk with me for a bit, Desmond.” Nur said calmly and Desmond stepped to the side to let her walk ahead of him.
“Good night, everyone.” Desmond bowed at the three who remained sitting and they echoed his words as he followed Nur out of the garden.
The hallway was empty and Desmond was sure that the servants had made themselves scarce deliberately.
“So… what does Raiza think we should talk about?” Desmond asked lightly as he walked three steps behind Nur, a little to her left.
“We all wish to know what you plan to do now that you got the answers you were looking for.” Nur answered, “And Raiza believed you’d feel better talking to me about it than feeling like you have to report to all of us.”
“And Dvora?” Desmond asked with a raised eyebrow.
“She knew you’d be able to distract her by talking about Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad so it is with a heavy heart that she bowed down from this opportunity.” Nur said with a smile, making Desmond chuckle.
“You didn’t even ask me if I did find the answers I was looking for.” Desmond reminded her after he finished chuckling at how his parents knew him too well. He gave a brief overview of what he saw in Iram and what Minerva left behind but he didn’t exactly tell them what Minerva talked about.
“You brought Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad here.” Nur said, “That is enough for us to understand that you have a plan. We just want to know if there is anything we can do to help.”
Desmond was quiet for a moment as they turned to their right before saying, “I do. Sorta.”
Nur hummed and listened as Desmond continued, “As I said in my report, Minerva wished for me to do one last ‘thing’ and then I’ll be completely free to do what I want. For that, I would like to ask your support concerning two things.”
“Next year, I will need to go to Jerusalem once more.” Desmond shrugged as he added, “Maybe kill a few Templars there or bury a newly dug tunnel. We’ll see.”
Nur raised an eyebrow and Desmond explained, “The key I need to do Minerva’s final request is underneath the Temple Mount. The Templars will dig it up by next year and I’ll steal it then. Depending on the security, I might be forced to take some of them out.”
“I see.” She said before saying, “I will inform the others but I don’t believe they would have any problems with that. If you do not wish to shed any blood, Khalid had found a journal from a Hidden One that talks about needles that can make people go to sleep. Perhaps you two can halt your more… ‘destructive’ projects and experiment on that kind of tool first.”
“Sure. I’ll talk to Khalid about it.” He agreed, wondering if it was some kind of sleeping dart or something.
“And the second thing?”
“Oh. I would like to visit Kaientaronkwen’s land after that.” He paused before adding, “Preferably before September next year.”
“So time is of the essence then?” She asked curiously.
“Not exactly. I have up to September next year but I would prefer it if I finish this little task sooner rather than later.” They finally reached the main doors that would lead him out of the harem and they stood a few feet away from it, turning to face one another as he continued, “So I can focus on my duties and responsibilities as the next mentor.”
She stared at him for a brief moment before she asked quietly, “Then you still wish to stay with us.”
Desmond smiled as he said, “Alamut is my home.”
He saw her shoulders relaxed and he knew, then and there, that they had been worried over the silliest of things.
“I’ve thought about it, you know. What if Minerva’s answers weren’t the ones I wanted to hear.” Desmond’s smile dropped as he said, “And I realized… I would still want to remain here in Alamut.”
“I want to stay here.” Desmond closed his eyes as he continued, “And be with my friends and family.”
He opened his eyes and grinned as he said, “I might go on a short journey for a bit some day to finish Minerva’s request but…”
His grin turned into a soft smile as he said, “I’ll always come home.”
Notes:
Hibiscus tea with honey and pomegranate is the drink portion of Bayek’s part in the book Assassin’s Creed The Culinary Codex. It’s called Bissap Potion and it’s literally iced hibiscus tea with honey and pomegranate seed. The one they were drinking in this chapter is not iced though. And yes, it is because Ubisoft set this as Bayek’s drink that hibiscus tea appears a lot in my fics (the fact that it is also my favorite kind of tea is purely coincidental… or perhaps it was meant to be lol)
Since a lot of you seemed to be interested in trying it, here's the recipe :)
Chapter 67
Notes:
No beta because RL.
Chapter Text
Desmond returned to his room and just… stopped.
“Are you trying to seduce me right now?” Desmond asked, unable to stop the way his voice squeaked in the middle.
Altaïr raised an eyebrow at him as he answered, “I had no plans to do such a thing but I am not against it.”
He closed the book he had been reading and placed it on top of the desk as he continued, “Although I would prefer it if you tell me what made you believe I’m trying to seduce you…”
His lips curved into an amused smirk as he continued, “… for future reference.”
Desmond closed the door and silently waved a hand over Altaïr’s entire… everything. Altaïr looked down before raising his head to tell Desmond, “Ah. A recruit replaced the water you used to clean up before visiting the harem.”
Altaïr turned his head and Desmond looked at the same direction where a basin of water was on a smaller table with some kind of cloth that had been folded next to it.
“I cleaned up as best I could but…” Altaïr sighed as he dragged his hand over his hair, “It wouldn’t be proper for me to wear the same robes I’ve been wearing, considering its current state.”
“You could have borrowed my clothes.” Desmond dryly said as he shook his head fondly.
“I wasn’t sure if you were alright with me using your things.” Altaïr admitted.
Desmond was pretty sure it was both that and because he wanted to see Desmond’s reaction to his… all natural glory.
Jesus Christ on a pogo stick.
He was fortunate enough that the light from the lamp Altaïr was using to read had cast enough shadow to hide Altaïr’s… lower body.
Or was that ‘unfortunate’?
Desmond sighed and grabbed the topmost robes on top of his chest. He threw it at Altaïr who managed to grab it before it hit his face, “Wear that.”
Desmond grabbed the rest of the robes and placed them on the floor before going on his knees and opening the chest, “I’ll get us sleeping robes and we’ll go visit the thermae for an actual proper bath.”
“Oh? I thought I was under ‘house arrest’?” He heard Altaïr comment together with the soft sounds of fabric shuffling.
“Not anymore.” Desmond said as he grabbed two of the most comfortable sleeping robes he had… which was really just normal robes that were softer than what he usually wore. He thought about it for a moment before he grabbed two pairs of sleeping pants as well, “Tomorrow, I’ll show you Alamut.”
“For now…” He grabbed the usual bag he used every time he visited the thermae and placed the articles of clothing he picked inside. He slung the bag over his shoulder and placed the rest of the folded robes that had been above the chest inside. He closed the chest, making sure to put Adha’s lock of hair in the right angle, “At least, I can just tell people I talked to my parents during dinner and lifted your ‘house arrest’ so I’ll show you the thermae right now.”
He turned around and saw Altaïr was already standing, looking at the sleeves that almost covered his fingers. Desmond’s lips curved into a smile, a warm enveloping his chest at the sight of Altaïr wearing his clothes.
“We can take a bath there before we go to sleep.” Desmond said as he walked towards the door, “Oh and, tomorrow, we’ll talk to Oded and ask his permission to get you robes and pants.”
He opened the door, his smile growing when Altaïr silently followed him, his entire body focused on him, listening to his every word with curiosity in his eyes.
“We’ll get you robes that fit you better.” Desmond continued as he walked out of his room. Altaïr closed the door behind him and followed after Desmond as he continued, “Oh, and I’ll tell Zain to bring Jalāl to the dining hall for lunch. He wants to meet you and I figured it would be better if you two met in a more casual setting, you know? Jalāl likes meeting new people but he can be quite shy and-”
Desmond stopped and turned around as he asked, “Why are you walking behind me, Altaïr?”
“Because you’re of a higher standing.” Altaïr answered calmly.
Desmond frowned at him. This had been nagging at Desmond for a while now. Ever since they left Iram…
No.
Even in Iram…
Using the excuse of Desmond being the leader of their group, Altaïr always stayed behind him as if it was the most natural thing to do.
No.
Like it was what was expected of him.
“Altaïr…” Desmond sighed and took a step towards Altaïr as he said, “I don’t think of you as someone beneath me.”
“I know.” Altaïr said with a nod, “You’re kind to everyone.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to explain it to Altaïr who grew up with such a strict hierarchy dogging his every step.
Desmond understood it, of course. The hierarchy in the Brotherhood ensured that there will be a chain of command in case things go south and it kept the order necessary to keep the peace in their organization as well as those they wish to protect.
“It’s not that I treat everyone equally. I don’t. Not really. I’m human like everyone else so I can’t help it if I care more for others than the rest.” Desmond admitted, “But I try to treat everyone with the same respect they give me. I’m kind to people who are kind to me or those I believe deserves the kindness I can give.”
“So…” Desmond took another step towards Altaïr as he continued, “I’m not being ‘kind’ to you, Altaïr.”
Altaïr tilted his head, silently asking him to clarify his admission. Desmond couldn’t blame him. In everyone’s eyes, that includes Altaïr, Desmond had been nothing but kind to him.
But that wasn’t the truth…
“I think of you as the most important person to me.” Desmond admitted and he could feel his cheeks and ears getting warmer. Still, he persisted, hoping his voice remained calm and even, “So I treat you the way I feel about you.”
Desmond took his hands as he confessed, “That’s why… I want to be the most important person to you as well.”
“You are.” Altaïr immediately said and moved his hands so he could intertwined their fingers, “You’re the most important person in my life, Desmond.”
“Then… will you do as I ask?” Desmond asked.
“Of course.” Altaïr nodded.
“Altaïr…” Desmond stared at him as he asked, “Walk beside me.”
Altaïr blinked.
“Seeing you walk behind me makes me feel… uncomfortable.” Desmond admitted as he looked at the ground, “It feels like we’re not equal.”
“But… we’re not.” Altaïr reminded Desmond, “Even if we are both Master Assassins, you are the future mentor.”
“I know. But still…” Desmond let go of Altaïr’s hands, trying to think of a way to make Altaïr understand why he was making such a big deal about this.
“I… I want us to walk side by side.” Desmond admitted as he raised his head to stare at Altaïr, “I don’t want you to see me as the future mentor or the son of the imam or whatever other title they throw at me. I just want to be ‘Desmond’ in your eyes.”
The redness returned on his face as he said quietly, “I want you to love me as just ‘Desmond’.”
Altaïr stared at Desmond quietly before he said, “I understand.”
He took Desmond’s hand once more as he continued, “I want… I want to walk by your side as well, Desmond.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a grin and they began to walk down the stairs, their feet stepping in unison. Desmond knew that the stairs of the tower were designed to be large enough for two people to comfortable use it at the same time during dire situations but still… he couldn’t help but be glad that it was large enough to let them walk together without it being awkward.
“I think I should tell you…” Altaïr said as they reach the floor below, “I do love you as Desmond.”
They continued to walk as Desmond turned to smile at him, “I know.”
“But I also love you as the future mentor and the son of the imam.” Altaïr added as they continued to descend the tower, “And every other title you might have or will have in the future… I love each and every one of them because they’re a part of you.”
“Altaïr…” Desmond’s expression softened.
“Yes, and Desmond loves each and every part of you as well. Now, if you’re done professing your love for one another on the stairs of all places, I would appreciate it if you could go… right now. Some of us are trying to sleep.”
They both turned to look at the door right next to the stairs where Faheem was glaring at them from the comforts of his own room.
“Oh, good evening, Faheem.” Desmond greeted with a smile while Altaïr nod at him.
Faheem’s glare only grew and Desmond could feel his lips twitching.
“Go away and leave everybody else out of your sickening proclamations of love for one another.” Faheem growled before closing his door.
They stared at the door for a moment before turning to face one another. Their lips twitched for a moment before they burst into laughter. Hearing the telltale signs of a door creaking once more, they quickly descended the stairs to escape Faheem’s wrath.
… not noticing that the door that opened was the door to the left of Faheem’s where eyes with too many dark lines underneath to be considered healthy stared at where they were standing just moments ago.
“Oh, Desmond. Welcome back.” One of the nymphs greeted them as soon as they entered the thermae. He recognized her as one of the women who had flirted with him when he first arrived.
“Good evening, Amira.” Desmond greeted back with a smile, “Are there any open private rooms we can use?”
“For you? Always.” Amira replied with a coy smile. Desmond simply laughed and followed her deeper in the thermae.
Sensing Altaïr staring at him, he whispered, “I never slept with any of them if that’s what you want to ask.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Altaïr said quietly.
Desmond’s lips curved into a fond little smile as he said while patting Altaïr’s arm, “Of course. Just wanted to make sure you don’t mistake my friendship with the women here.”
Altaïr hummed but didn’t say anything.
“I just take baths here.” Desmond continued.
“Is this the only place one can bathe in the castle?” Altaïr asked curiously.
“No. There’s a large bath in the castle itself for guests. The shadow tower also has their own bath for the Assassins and recruits to use. We’re allowed in both but they’re open for public use.” Desmond answered.
There was also a bath in the harem but Desmond never went there and had no plans to whatsoever. The one in the castle was mostly used by guests and the scholars staying in the castle. Desmond had tried it once with Jalāl. He preferred the privacy of the rooms here in the thermae to be completely honest.
They reached the hallway with doors that would lead to those private rooms and waited outside as Amira unlocked one room and lit the candles in the room.
“You can use everything inside.” Desmond said as he opened the bag he brought with him and handed Altaïr a change of clothes, “They left clean clothes in the chest inside too but you don’t need to use them since I brought us these. Take your time and relax. We’ll meet up back here once we’re both done.”
“Oh.” Amira placed a hand by her mouth as she walked out of the room.
“What’s wrong?” Desmond asked while Altaïr stared at the clothes he was now holding in his arms.
“I just thought the two of you would…” Amira glanced at Altaïr as she stressed, “… ‘bathe’ together.”
Desmond’s cheeks reddened as he said, “Wha- No. We’re just here to take a bath.”
“An actual bath.” Desmond stressed.
“Oh.” The disappointment in Altaïr’s voice was so vivid Desmond was sure he was doing it on purpose.
Desmond turned to glare at him and noticed the mirth in his eyes even as he kept his expression blank. He rolled his eyes as he said, “Maybe if you beg nicely, we’ll take a bath together some other time.”
Altaïr raised an eyebrow while Amira covered her surprised chuckle with a cough.
“Go.” Desmond rolled his eyes and gently pushed Altaïr towards the door.
Amira stepped to the side as she said in a cheerful tone, “I’ll go prepare another room for you, Desmond.”
“Thanks, Amira!” Desmond said with a smile before turning to look back at Altaïr, “Go on.”
Altaïr walked inside the room before turning to face Desmond once more. His lips curved into a small smirk as he asked, “And how would you like me to beg-”
Desmond rolled his eyes as he cut him off, “I’ll answer that question later.”
“Later?”
“Later.” Desmond said with a nod, “Much later.”
“I’m fine with waiting.” Altaïr said.
Desmond’s lips curled into a smile as his entire face softened, “I know.”
After the much needed bath, they walked back to the mentor’s tower with Desmond filling the silence with stories related to the places they pass by.
He talked about the first time he visited the thermae. He even pointed out the exact ground where Rawiya had his friends place the desk he had in his room. When they reached the tower, Desmond talked about his experiences as his father’s errand boy.
It felt… nice… sharing these stories to Altaïr.
Sharing a part of his past to him.
By the time they reached Desmond’s room, Desmond had just finished recounting what he included in the report and what the mentors had ordered him to do.
Altaïr closed the door first before asking, “So you didn’t tell them what Minerva wishes you to do? You only told them that she asked a favor?”
“Yeah.” Desmond placed their previous clothes that he had put in his bag into the basket next to the chest. It was empty before Desmond placed their dirty clothes but he should probably do the laundry tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
A lot of the recruits would be more than happy to wash his clothes but he always felt a bit uncomfortable asking such a thing so he did his own laundry. Diya al-Dīn did tell him that he should get used to such a thing. Once he was the mentor, his free time would be better used over something else and the people would feel it a bit strange that their mentor was doing his own laundry instead of his actual duties.
“Why not?” Altaïr’s question pulled Desmond out of his spiraling thoughts.
Desmond placed the bag next to the basket before walking towards the mountain of pillows as he answered, “It would just… complicate things.”
Desmond laid on the pillows and waved his hand at Altaïr, beckoning him over. He waited until Altaïr laid next to him before he turned to face him. Altaïr turned to face him as well as he said, “They know Minerva is not a god but a being from a race that slowly died off but trying to explain to them about Juno and what’s going to happen in the future?”
Desmond sighed before admitting, “I don’t really want to explain it. Explaining it means explaining so many other things.”
Desmond’s eyes glazed over as he continued, “The distant past. The distant future. Minerva’s people and just how advanced they were…”
Desmond closed his eyes as he whispered, “The truth about me.”
Desmond was quiet before he opened his eyes once more. Altaïr was quietly staring at him, his eyes focused on Desmond’s face with such clarity that Desmond’s heart skipped a beat. Desmond’s eyes wandered over to his scarred lips before he returned his gaze on his golden eyes, whispering so softly Altaïr wouldn’t have been able to hear him had they not been close to one another, “Aren’t you going to ask?”
Altaïr must have a lot of questions. He must have heard what Minerva said, if not all then most of it. A lot of Minerva’s words were vague and they had been speaking in Desmond’s 21st century American English but Altaïr must already have an idea or a guess of Desmond’s true identity and what will happen in the distant future.
“If I ask right now, will you tell me?”
Desmond was quiet for a moment.
He wished he could say yes.
He wanted to say yes.
But he couldn’t.
He didn’t want to lie to Altaïr.
“No. Not yet.” Desmond placed a hand on Altaïr’s cheek. Altaïr’s own hand covered his and lightly pressed Desmond’s hand. Desmond’s smile looked fragile, ready to fall apart with the softest of breeze.
“I want you to fall in love with me, Altaïr.” Desmond admitted. Altaïr opened his mouth but Desmond continued before he could form any sound, “I know you love me but I… I want you to fall deeper in love with me.”
“So deep that, when I tell you the truth, you won’t leave me for the things I hid from you.” Desmond continued. He leaned closer and pressed his forehead against his, “So deep that you’ll stay with me even after knowing the truth about me.”
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he whispered, “I won’t leave you, Desmond. Not now. Not ever.”
Altaïr let go of his hand to place his hand over the side of his neck, gently pulling Desmond until their noses touch, “I’ve waited for you to acknowledge my feelings. I’ve waited for you to finally tell me you want me to stay.”
“I’m not leaving.” Altaïr said solemnly, “I’ll stay by your side for as long as you want me to.”
“What if I want you to stay forever?” Desmond whispered as he leaned even closer, feeling Altaïr’s breath against his skin, “Can you promise me that?”
“If you ask me, I will promise you everything that I have and everything that I am.” Altaïr whispered, “All you have to do is ask, Desmond.”
“My heart.”
“My time.”
“My very life.”
“I’ll give them all to you.”
“Altaïr…” Desmond closed his eyes as he whispered, “I find myself wishing to be greedy when I’m with you.”
Altaïr opened his mouth and Desmond captured his lips.
Their kiss felt both like a warning and a promise.
Chapter 68
Notes:
No beta because of RL
Chapter Text
Maud had never, even for a second, wished to return to this damn place.
She had been satisfied flying freely, not having to watch her brother be all sweet and spoiled, receiving attention and love from Desmond. She didn’t have to feel her father’s nosy eyes on her whenever she would rest near him on the rare occasions that he even stayed in the tower. She didn’t have to ignore her mother’s cooing nor her indulgence to all those other eagles who liked to show just how good they would be as her next mate. She didn’t have to sleep squeezed between her other siblings, waking from vague dreams of cages and traps. She didn’t have to glare and peck anyone who dared think they should be given a chance to show that she would be lucky to have them as her mate.
There was a time when she had been jealous and angry, seeing her place be taken by that little sly brat.
But that jealousy had long burned out and what remained of her anger had turned into charcoal of annoyance. Even when she attacked him, she made sure not to draw blood.
That little brat made it sound like she had eviscerated him.
She didn’t leave Alamut because she was angry or jealous. She left because she wanted to soar the sky and see the world.
She met Altaïr by accident.
Or perhaps it was fate.
Regardless, she watched him for a while because he looked a lot like Desmond.
He even shared the same loneliness that Desmond would sometimes fall back to whenever he was alone.
Unlike Desmond, Altaïr wore that loneliness like a shroud forever draped over his shoulders.
Perhaps that loneliness would be cast away when he was back in Masyaf but she wouldn’t know, having never dared to come close.
Maud hadn’t planned to stay with him.
One night, he was staying in one of the rooftop gardens and she landed near him. They looked at one another for a moment before he took out a dried piece of meat and threw it at her feet.
He was an idiot.
She knew that this was his last piece of food and he hadn’t had any since he started walking around the city, doing whatever mission was ordered of him.
But she ate it anyway.
When he left the city, she landed on the back of his saddle. They stared at one another for a moment before he ordered the horse to take off.
And that was that.
Maud accompanied him wherever his missions take him.
But she stayed in the forest near Masyaf whenever he returned to report to his master and stayed for a bit. She didn’t like Altaïr’s master. She had heard of him from the humans in Alamut. The doctor who would usually feed them on the top of the tower liked to talk to them about Alamut and Masyaf.
She didn’t get a lot of what he said. To be completely honest, she didn’t really understand human speech all that much. Not as much as her brother.
But…
The more she was with Altaïr, the more she started to understand human speech. The easier it was to understand humans in general.
The clearer the memories of her time in Alamut became.
So she remembered the doctor’s stories of Masyaf and the master. Not the exact words but the feelings behind his voice.
His words held a warning. He did not speak to scare them. He spoke because he had been worried for them.
So she saw Masyaf as dangerous.
She didn’t really see why though. Perhaps the doctor was afraid that they would be taken in and become eagles of Masyaf instead. Perhaps he truly was afraid for their well-being even though she didn’t see any reason why.
Regardless, she stayed away.
When she saw how infatuated Altaïr was with Desmond, she knew that it would only be a matter of time before Altaïr join Alamut.
And during that time…
Maud thought she was okay with it. Altaïr needed someone to look after him. He only did the bare minimum whenever it concerned his own well being.
But if he was with Desmond, she knew he would be fine.
She always remembered Desmond being kind and attentive to those he cared for.
And she saw the way they looked at one another.
Altaïr fell too easily for Desmond as far as Maud was concerned but, if he was to be mated with anyone, she couldn’t think of a better match than Desmond.
Desmond, on the other hand, already loved Altaïr from what Maud could see. It was a strange kind of love, one created by a ghost. She had been worried that Desmond was using Altaïr as a replacement.
Then she saw him again in that strange underground city.
And the ghost that muddied Desmond’s eyes were no longer there.
She knew then and there that it was only a matter of time before their goodbye.
She had wished her last journey with Altaïr had not been in the company of her brat of a brother.
He was awful at pretending to be human.
Or maybe it was more accurate to say that he was awful at being an eagle?
It was most probably because Desmond was more of his parent than their father and mother would ever be. Aquila acted more human-like at times.
Then again…
Maud was similar. Her thoughts and feelings… they weren’t this… intense before.
It all started when she took Altaïr in.
Her memories before she met Altaïr grew more vivid. What must have been the instincts of a bird became easier to explain with what she truly felt and thought back then.
… even though she didn’t have the words to explain them when they happened. Her thoughts back then felt more… instinctual than anything.
When Altaïr followed Desmond and entered Alamut with him and the doctor, she knew that this was it.
That she should leave as well and fly elsewhere.
Soar the sky and fly till she grew hungry or tired.
Like the days before she met Altaïr.
Instead, she stayed.
She stayed in the forest where she last saw Altaïr. There was no real reason why.
Or so she would like to think…
And he came back.
He hoped she would stay. He was even willing to compromise with her.
Visiting her in this forest regularly?
He was an idiot.
He was putting himself in danger just to honor her pride.
She had seen the local wolf pack that walked this forest.
He was courting danger just for her.
He was an idiot who did foolish things for those he cared about.
And, for some reason, he cared for her.
And strangely enough…
She cared for him too.
So she compromised for him instead.
And returned to Alamut.
Of course, she had no plan to stay in Desmond’s room with them. She had seen how the two acted whenever they were together.
She wasn’t a masochist. She wasn’t going to suffer through all that every day.
She stayed with Altaïr until he entered the tower and she flew to the very top once she was sure he was safe in Desmond’s room.
And glared at every other eagle in the aviary.
If she was going to stay in Alamut then… she might as well make every bird in this castle understand that she was just like her human.
The best among all of them.
His father visited the aviary in the evening.
They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.
He cautiously hopped towards her.
She stared quietly.
They stared at one another once more.
He hopped.
And let out a surprised cry when she quickly pegged his wing in warning.
He flew away from her and landed on one of the lower beams.
They stared at each other once more.
…
…
…
She wasn’t going to get out of the best looking nest no matter how much he continued to stare at her.
This was her nest now.
Altaïr had always had trouble sleeping.
No.
It wasn’t ‘always’.
It started after seeing his father’s beheading.
Someone tried to cover his eyes back then but they had been too late. He felt someone hold him in their arms, telling him to close his eyes.
Altaïr saw it anyway.
He didn’t even remember who it was anymore.
After that, Altaïr could only truly fall asleep in his room. Anywhere else… all he could do was meditate.
But interrupted sleep didn’t exist for Altaïr. The quietest of sounds woke him up even in his room in Masyaf.
And it did not miraculously change just because he was in Desmond’s room.
He woke to the sound of Desmond turning in his sleep. The entire room was dark and even the window he used to slip inside last year was closed.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly though, staring at the ceiling as he laid on his back. He turned to look to his right and saw Desmond had turned to his side facing him.
After their kiss, Desmond whispered to him that they should go to sleep and Altaïr agreed. It had been a long journey after all. There was no need to ask for more.
Altaïr had always been fine with waiting for Desmond. Desmond was worth the wait, no matter how long it would take.
Still…
Altaïr was selfish enough to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him closer at the same time he scooted towards him. Desmond let out a grunt but stayed relax as his arms wrapped around Altaïr’s neck.
Desmond instinctively pulled Altaïr closer and Altaïr turned his head so he could press his ear over Desmond’s chest.
Altaïr closed his eyes and focused on Desmond’s heartbeat. He timed his breathing to copy Desmond’s.
Altaïr fell asleep once more.
And he would wake time and time again but it also became easier to fall asleep as he focused on Desmond’s breathing and heartbeat.
Desmond woke up to the feeling of Aquila pulling on his hair. He sighed but didn’t bother to open his eyes.
He remembered they closed the window but Aquila had long learned how to open the window to Desmond’s room. He was simply reaping what he sowed, having taught Aquila how to open windows as part of his training to be his scout. Still, Desmond would have liked it if Aquila didn’t use his skills just to remind Desmond that he needed to be fed.
He knew for a fact that his father would feed the birds in the aviary after their own breakfast.
But Aquila was used to being fed before Desmond would go have breakfast with his family.
Sometimes, he would still join the eagles in the aviary and eat a second breakfast.
Desmond opened his eyes and sighed once more. He felt Altaïr tense and rested his cheek on top of Altaïr’s head. Altaïr raised his head slightly so his nose was tickling the side of Desmond’s neck.
He vaguely remembered Altaïr pulling him close in the middle of the night. He thought it had been a dream but apparently not.
Desmond didn’t mind though.
Altaïr was warm in his arms.
The warmth reminded Desmond that this wasn’t a dream.
There were a lot of things left to do but…
This very moment…
It didn’t matter right now.
… until Aquila pulled his hair again.
Desmond let out a long suffering sigh.
And he felt Altaïr’s breath against the skin of his neck as he chuckled.
Aquila took this time to hop on Desmond’s head, being careful with his talons.
And pulled Desmond’s hair once more.
“I would have liked it if you saw them in full bloom.” Desmond admitted as he watered the flower bed. Only a few flowers were still at bloom, signaling the end of their flowering season.
It was unfortunate. When Desmond and Adha left, they showed such a beautiful red hue that caught everyone’s attention.
Fortunately, the flowers that were still there caught Altaïr’s attention, making him walk towards them without waiting for Desmond. He crouched over them and stared at them silently, lightly touching the petals of some of them with his point and middle fingers. Desmond grabbed the bucket he would use to water the plants and filled it with water from the nearby flowing water. He had carved a wooden dipper with a long handle to scoop out the water from the bucket so he could water his flower bed when he started caring for them.
“It’s fine. In many ways, this is better.” Altaïr said as he turned. He raised his head to meet Desmond’s eyes as he continued, “I can watch them grow and bloom with you.”
Desmond’s cheeks reddened at those words even as his lips curved into a small smile.
“A first of many to come.” Desmond said softly.
Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile as he agreed, “Yes.”
They stared at each other’s eyes in comfortable silence before Desmond turned away and focused on watering once more. Altaïr turned his head slightly and watched him work. Desmond could feel his gaze so he said, “I can teach you how to care for them, if you like?”
“I would.” Altaïr nodded, “I want…”
Altaïr raised to stare at Desmond once more as he said, “I would like nothing more than to know more about you, Desmond. To see the words you’ve written before with my own eyes. What your life here in Alamut is like, what you do here…”
His voice softened as he continued, “I wish you would be willing to share everything to me.”
“Altaïr…”
“It is absolutely too early for this.”
Desmond and Altaïr turned around and came face to face with the tired expression of Adha as she walked towards them. She stood a few feet away from them and sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she said, “Desmond, shouldn’t you be in the harem already?”
“Shit.” Desmond bent a bit so he could place the bucket on the ground without damaging it before he straightened and turned to face Altaïr, “I’m so sorry, Altaïr. I have to go.”
“It’s fine.” Altaïr said as he stood, “I understand. I hope you have a good breakfast with your family, Desmond.”
Desmond nodded and opened his mouth, “Oh, about your breakfast-”
“He’s having it with me.” Adha cut him off before taking a step to the side, “Go, Desmond. Before the mentor gets his guards to come get you like an unruly child.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Desmond grabbed Altaïr’s hand and squeezed it lightly as he said, “I’ll see you after breakfast, okay?”
Altaïr nodded and squeezed his hand back before they both let go. Desmond rushed out of the back garden, leaving Altaïr and Adha alone.
Adha crossed her arms as she repeated with a raised eyebrow and a grin, “I hope you have a good breakfast?”
Altaïr frowned at her as he asked, “What’s wrong with hoping he would have a good breakfast?”
“Nothing’s wrong with that.” She answered with a shrug before teasingly added, “The phrasing was awkward though.”
“It was not.” He argued and she snickered when she heard the small huff he let out as his brows furrowed even further.
“Come on.” She turned around, “Let’s go get breakfast.”
Altaïr followed her…
… only realizing she had an agenda all along when he was already caught in her trap.
“Adha, you traitor.”
“So melodramatic. Reminds me of Desmond too.” She dryly commented and waved a hand at the door they entered from, “Well? The door’s right there?”
“You know very well retreat is not an option.” He growled as he followed her, feeling eyes following his every move.
They finally reached the other end of the room and Altaïr stood next to Adha.
On the other side of the counter was a recruit who was serving the meals this breakfast. He smiled at Adha as he greeted, “Morning, Adha. Didn’t see you in morning prayers today.”
“Sorry about that. I was waiting for Altaïr.” Adha used her thumb to point at Altaïr, another gesture she must have learned from Desmond.
“Oh?” He blinked and turned to stare at Altaïr before he said, “Oh! Hello. Uuuhhh… Mister… Altaïr?”
“Altaïr is just fine.” Altaïr said automatically, already used to recruits being awkward around him. He didn’t have to suffer through it for long when he was back in Masyaf thanks to Kadar talking to them for him.
Kadar…
He must be worried.
Altaïr should request Faheem to send word to Kadar about him in his next letter. It would be strange if Altaïr was to send him a letter himself after all.
He didn’t want anyone in Alamut to find any reason to doubt any of his actions after all.
“Yeah, just call him Altaïr.” Adha said, patting Altaïr’s back, “It would be weird if we call Desmond ‘Desmond’ and we call his consort something like ‘Mister Altaïr’, right?”
She was doing this on purpose.
Her voice was louder than normal and Altaïr could hear the noise all around the dining hall come to a halt.
This was probably her revenge for how he and Desmond acted the entire journey, wasn’t it?
She was Desmond’s direct disciple so he couldn’t kill her. But, considering she was training to be an Assassin, it wouldn’t be surprising if he was to suggest they spar, right?
“O-oh, of course!” The recruit said with a nod as he handed Altaïr a serving tray that had a plate filled with grilled seasoned chicken and warm rice, a small bowl filled with steaming soup and another bowl filled with vegetables seasoned with herb and oil. There was two cups on either side of the serving tray that were empty.
“Thank you.” Altaïr said with a nod and ignored Adha’s smirk.
They both knew that ‘thank you’ was a habit that started to form because Desmond always said thank you whenever someone handed him food.
“Of course! I hope you like it.” The recruit said with a grin, “I was in charge of the soup today! I used the broth the chef was using to boil some of the game meat from yesterday. He’s planning to cook them this afternoon so I hope you look forward to that!”
Altaïr nodded, unsure what else to say to the recruit’s enthusiastic rambling as he handed a serving tray almost identical to his to Adha.
“Oh, you added vegetables to the soup?” Adha asked curiously, making the recruit puff his chest.
“That’s right. I boiled the vegetables and prepared them on the bowl separately.” He explained proudly, “This way, the vegetables won’t get all soggy.”
“Like last time.” She teased.
The recruit’s ears reddened as he hastily said, “Oh come on, Adha! It was my first time making soup! You can’t hold that over me for this long.”
“Fine, fine. I won’t.” She said with a smile, “Tell the others I said hi, okay?”
“Alright.” The recruit nodded, “I hope you’re placed in our batch again, Adha. We’re all eager for a rematch.”
She laughed and nodded, “That’s the plan. If I don’t, blame Oded.”
They both laughed and Altaïr followed her as she walked towards one of the table to the far right of the dining hall.
He recognized the people sitting on the table immediately and hissed, “Adha.”
“You can pick any other table if you want.” She reminded him in an almost sing-song tone.
They both knew he wouldn’t.
Any action Altaïr made would reflect on Desmond.
And there was no way Altaïr would let Desmond’s reputation be sullied because of him.
So he glared at her back and she turned to smirk at him before leading him to the lion’s den.
They both sat on the right side of the table.
… while the men already sitting on the table all continued to sit on the other side.
Altaïr had just sat when one of them said, “Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.”
Altaïr wanted to sigh.
The food looked delicious and he had been slightly looking forward on trying the soup, less because he was curious and more because he wanted to honor the recruit’s enthusiasm by finishing it.
Instead, he stared at them and glanced at each of them. All five of them were staring at him with varying expression on their faces but none of them stared at him with awe like the young boy next to the one on the far most right side did.
“We should introduce ourselves first.” The one in the middle said. He didn’t waste any time and just pointed at each of them as he said their names, starting from the leftmost man and completely ignoring himself, “That’s Hamaal. This is my brother in law, Amir. This is Meekhal. That’s Zain and his cousin Kāve.”
Altaïr kept quiet.
“And I’m Rahim.” He finally introduced himself.
He knew that saying “Yes, we met yesterday even if you didn’t introduce yourself back then… and also back when I infiltrated Alamut and sneaked inside Desmond’s room while you were all sleeping.” would not go well so he just said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Adha had already started sipping her soup, the traitor.
“Peredur couldn’t be with us at the moment due to… prior obligations.” Rahim dryly said, making Hamaal and Meekhal snicker while Amir and Zain sigh.
“We’re Desmond’s batchmates.” Rahim crossed his arms as he continued, “And we’re here to welcome you to Alamut.”
Altaïr stared at them and he could hear a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Desmond say…
What a load of bullshit.
Altaïr should have just said no to Adha and just had another awkward meal with Faheem.
Chapter 69
Notes:
Not beta due to RL
Chapter Text
“De’s friend?”
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile as he walked the halls of the main castle with his younger brother in his arms.
Breakfast had been a peaceful event.
… as long as he ignored the knowing looks their parents gave him when he arrived just a few seconds late.
He did feel bad not being able to catch Zain before he left. Zain always escorted Jalāl to the harem’s entrance with his cousin but Desmond was always the one who brought Jalāl to the main castle for his lessons after breakfast so Zain could have breakfast with his cousin then rest while his cousin was taught by a scholar in the morning, returning to his post and teaching his cousin during the afternoon.
He must have already gone to breakfast by the time Desmond arrived in the harem.
“Sorry, asfoor.” Desmond said softly, “I’ll come get you for lunch, okay? I’ll introduce you to him then.”
“Okay.” Jalāl nodded enthusiastically just as they reach the room where Jalāl would have his lessons. Two guards that Desmond recognized were already posted on either side of the door.
“Morning, guys.” Desmond greeted with a grin.
“Good morning!” Jalāl greeted as well.
They both silently bowed as one of them opened the door. Desmond simply chuckled, already used to the silent nature of his younger brother’s guards.
They’d warm up to the two of them soon.
No one could escape Jalāl’s cuteness, after all.
He went on one knee and waited for Jalāl to jump off his arms. Jalāl hugged him one last time before running inside as he reminded, “Later, De! With De’s friend!”
“Yeah, I promise.” Desmond waved his hand and watched as Jalāl ran towards his teacher and greeted him with a ‘good morning!’, making the teacher chuckle and return his greeting.
Desmond watched Jalāl as he talked to his instructor, going over what he learned yesterday. He knew it was a way for his younger brother’s instructor to get a feel of Jalāl’s progress. This short summary would help the scholar make a decision if they should move forward with the next lesson or if they should take some time to go over yesterday’s lesson to ensure Jalāl understood it. Once Desmond was certain that Jalāl was focused on his lessons, he stepped back and nodded at the guard holding the door opened. He began to walk away as the guard closed the door.
The main castle wasn’t really all that busy most of the time. There were a few servants here and there but they were mostly there to supervise and teach the recruits who would be stationed in the castle for that day. Cleaning and other duties that were usually done by servants were done by recruits for two main reasons.
One of those reasons was to give them experience in chores like cleaning and cooking. Cooking was essentially as there would be time when they must cook else they go hungry. Other household chores were also a necessity considering the Brotherhood didn’t employ servants most of the time. The few servants they did employ were usually Assassins who didn’t want to become scholars but could no longer perform their duties in the field or were retiring and still wished to support the Brotherhood in some way. Although, Desmond had been planning to suggest that they call them ‘supervisors’ instead of servants since that was their main job description: supervising the recruits.
Also, an actual retirement plan.
Was he being too ambitious?
Who knows?
He was still going to try though.
The other reason was being adequate in such work would make it easier for Assassins to pretend to be servants when they have to go undercover during a mission or it was the best option to complete their mission.
And it was because Desmond was so used to recruits cleaning the castle during the morning that he found it strange that he hadn’t seen even a single recruit yet while walking the long hallway that would lead him to the main floor of the castle.
This was strange.
Absolutely strange.
By this time, he expected to at least see a recruit cleaning the windows while two recruits swiped and brushed the floor.
Desmond didn’t need to panic though. If something had happened but it was hard for any of the Assassins to come get him, Aquila or Bennu would have been sent to warn him.
He made his way to the main floor and everything was just as quiet.
Desmond walked out of the castle and… heard it.
The sounds of mumbling in the distance.
Towards the shadow’s tower…
Desmond briskly walked towards the tower, glancing up in the sky.
There was no bird circling above him so Aquila was off doing his own thing.
Desmond hoped he was just being paranoid.
The mumbling that Desmond only heard because of his heightened senses turned out to the large crowd around the training ring talking among themselves while staring at the ring itself.
It was insane.
The crowd seemed to be made up of mostly recruits and some of the novices based on their robes.
The Assassins watching whatever was at the center of all this commotion were mainly crouched on high vantage points and Desmond was sure more of them were watching from the windows of the second and third floors of the tower.
Desmond had a feeling of what was happening because the only time the training ring ever got this large of an audience was…
His match with the rest of his batchmates.
Shit.
Everyone stepped to the side to make way for him once they saw him coming and some of the mumbling even came to a halt when he came near.
And it was just as he expected on the training ring.
He couldn’t even find it in himself to sigh.
He should have known this was going to happen.
Altaïr was on one side, staring at Aquila who was pointing at each of his opponents and making gestures that he was sure Altaïr didn’t understand.
Desmond understood them as Aquila trying to give him tips about his opponents strengths and weaknesses.
Maud was on the railing, staring down at Aquila with a look that could only be described as ‘he is embarrassing himself and I cannot believe no one is stopping this entire thing’.
On the other side were his batchmates, doing the stretches he taught them when they were recruits together with…
“Adha?!” Desmond shouted, unable to stop himself from showing his surprise.
“No. For today, I am ‘Temporary Sirius’.” Adha dryly said as she pointed at the half dog mask made of wood that had been placed on her forehead.
Desmond spluttered the word ‘temporary Sirius’, wondering which one of them thought that was a good idea.
Or a funny idea.
If Peredur was here, Desmond would have assumed it was him.
“Peredur’s too busy writing.” Rahim scoffed and never had such words brought a deeper primal fear inside Desmond than hearing that.
Altaïr had told him what he did in Alamut when he thought Desmond was still there and, together with the fact that Desmond told Peredur that he and Altaïr had been exchanging letters using Faheem as a reward for being able to copy his handwriting and mannerism enough to fool Rawiya, Desmond was sure his friend had enough ‘ammo’ to write another book.
Fuck.
Altaïr was reading the first book yesterday as well. Desmond didn’t pay it any attention because showing how worried he was would only make Altaïr curious about the book. If Desmond had shown his reluctance of talking about that book, Altaïr might think that he shouldn’t read it and Desmond couldn’t have that. He didn’t want Altaïr to not do something he wanted to do because he thought Desmond wouldn’t approve.
… But that didn’t mean he couldn’t at least hope that Altaïr would grow bored before he read the second book.
And the next one after that which actually had that goddamn cliffhanger of an ending.
“Why is this happening?” Desmond groaned as he covered his face with one hand.
“We promise we won’t hurt him too badly.” Hamaal said brightly and Desmond could just imagine his grin.
Oh, he wasn’t worried about that.
As much as he believed in his batchmates and his disciple, they don’t stand a chance against Altaïr.
And this was definitely not Desmond being bias at all.
Definitely not because of that.
Desmond dropped his hand when he felt Oded stand next to him. They glanced at one another and Desmond knew the man enough to know what his silence was asking him. He sighed and nodded.
As much as he was questioning all of his decisions that led to this, he still wasn’t going to stop this.
He knew his batchmates would have a reason to do this kind of…
For some reason, Desmond was reminded of wrestling matches that he would sometimes watch because he was just that bored.
Oded began to announce the rules while Desmond walk towards Altaïr’s side. He stood next to Maud and rested his arms on the railings as he said, “I’m not going to give you any tips.”
Aquila turned to look at him, looking offended for Altaïr’s sake and Desmond wondered if Aquila actually believed Altaïr needed help.
“That’s fine.” Altaïr turned to look at him as he asked, “How was breakfast?”
“A bit awkward but that’s to be expected. We’re having lunch with Jalāl.” Desmond informed him casually. He leaned against the railing as he asked curiously, “How did it even come to this?”
“Hamaal suggested that talking with our fists would be more honest than actually talking.” Altaïr summarized and Desmond could feel a headache coming.
Shit.
It was his fault.
One of the stories he told his batchmates when they were recruits had a scene where two friends who had a falling out and deciding to duke it out instead of talking about their feelings.
Desmond told them that story because he thought it was funny that someone actually thought that beating each other up would be a better way to communicate than using words.
It was like everything Desmond said without giving it any hard thought was slowing coming to bite him in the ass.
He was cursed.
Iram had cursed him.
“That’s just an excuse.” Desmond sighed before adding, “But you already knew that, right?”
Altaïr nodded at him before commenting, “They care about you a lot.”
“Yeah, they do.” Desmond agreed with a small fond smile. He could hear Oded’s announcements about to come to an end and was about to say ‘have fun’ or something equally benign when Altaïr leaned close, placing both of his hands on the railings as well. Maud had to hop a bit to avoid his hand that came a bit too close to her talons.
“I once heard a crusader say that they would receive a favor from their lover before a joust.”
“Oh?” Desmond raised an eyebrow at that. He was pretty sure that crusader was speaking bullshit but he grinned instead, his nose touching Altaïr’s as he whispered, “Shame. I don’t have a handkerchief with me right now.”
“Yes. Such a shame.” Altaïr whispered back.
“Oh. Adha, I apologize for everything I said yesterday. You are right.” Rahim commented from behind Altaïr but they both ignored him.
“How about I do you a different kind of favor instead, hm?” Desmond pretended to think about it for a moment before he said, “I’ll grant you one favor if you win in the next 3 minutes.”
“Deal.” Altaïr whispered back and Desmond’s grin grew at the burning determination in his eyes.
Altaïr leaned back and let go of the railings, turning to face his opponents just as Oded finished his instructions.
Altaïr walked towards them, grabbing one of the blunt swords on the ground along the way while most of them grabbed swords as well. Only Adha and Zain picked up the blunt daggers instead.
“Do we get a favor if we take Altaïr down in 3 minutes?” Hamaal jokingly asked.
Desmond smiled as he said, “I’ll grant you guys a favor if you last 3 minutes.”
“Sounds like a far- Shit!” Hamaal parried Altaïr’s sword before it hit his neck, all of them surprised when Altaïr suddenly threw the sword at Zain who was the furthest from him, forcing Zain to jump back as he parried the incoming weapon. Altaïr rushed them, picking up another sword along the way and taking a swipe at Hamaal once more.
This time, Amir blocked his strike and Altaïr stepped back, evading Rahim’s attack from the side. Rahim bent down and Hamaal vaulted over him, aiming to hit Altaïr with a downward slash along the way. Altaïr simply stepped the side and crouched as he struck Hamaal before he even landed, aiming for a low horizontal swipe to ensure he hit something. Rahim grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it at Altaïr, interrupting Altaïr’s attack.
Altaïr backed away quickly and rubbed his eyes with the back of his left hand, remaining quiet as he glared at Rahim.
“Is it just me or is it scarier that we haven’t heard a single sound from him yet?” Hamaal asked with a grin as they all readied themselves.
“I can’t even hear his footsteps.” Amir noted with furrowed brows, “I’m having Desmond flashbacks and I don’t like it.”
“Thanks, guys. Feeling the love over here.” Desmond shouted from the other side of the railing.
“Oh, is it already starting?”
Desmond turned his head as Khalid stood next to him. Khalid nodded at Aquila before noticing Maud, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Desmond, “So… did you adopt another child while you were on your ‘honeymoon’?”
“Her name’s Maud. She’s Altaïr’s companion.” Desmond introduced, ignoring the little teasing Khalid just gave him.
“Pleased to meet you, Maud.” Khalid nodded at the eagle who glanced at him before ignoring him completely. Khalid simply chuckled as he turned his attention towards the ring, “I came as soon as I heard that your friends challenged the Eagle of Masyaf. How are they faring?”
“They’re doing pretty good although…” Desmond glanced at the three other opponents that had been having a little huddle while Amir, Rahim and Hamaal kept Altaïr occupied, “I am worried what those three are up to.”
“Probably something fun.” Khalid commented before turning to face Desmond, “Are you and Altaïr free for lunch today?”
“We were planning to have lunch with Jalāl. Why?”
“Nothing serious, I assure you.” Khalid said with a grin.
“Uh-huh.” Desmond dryly said, earning a small chuckle from Khalid.
“Hilde wanted to invite you two for lunch. I’m sure she’ll love to have the little prince too. He likes to play with Dana.” Khalid explained, before nodding at the ring. He whistled a short high tone before commenting, “He’s quite good.”
Of course he was.
In the span of their short conversation, Altaïr had taken down Amir with a single strike to the neck and had toppled Hamaal to the ground along the way. Altaïr’s movements were quick and efficient, not a single move wasted at all.
Rahim had to pull Hamaal back before Altaïr could plunge his sword on his chest, hitting him on the leg instead. They retreated to the huddle and the other three finally turned to face Altaïr.
Seeing Zain’s frown, Desmond wondered what plan they had now.
Meekhal whispered something to Rahim who looked at him with furrowed brows before he nodded.
“One minute left.” Oded said, making Desmond blink.
He didn’t expect Oded to actually take note of the time.
Was it because of what Desmond said?
Oded wasn’t the type of person to care about Desmond’s love life.
… He hoped so anyway.
Which meant…
Oded was trying to see how Altaïr would react.
While he wasn’t in the ring, Oded was also observing Altaïr.
Desmond wasn’t surprised.
Every Assassin watching this match was observing Altaïr.
“Let’s do this then.” Rahim growled.
“You guys got this!” Amir cheered as he stayed on the ground, badly pretending to be a dead man.
They charged Altaïr all at once. Hamaal reached him first and Altaïr parried his strike, stepping to the side. Before he could hit Hamaal, Rahim had reached him and blocked the incoming horizontal slash aimed at Hamaal’s neck. Rahim gritted his teeth before shouting, “We’ve seen Desmond naked!”
Desmond wanted to slam his forehead against the railing.
Altaïr’s expression remained blank as he said calmly, “I’ve seen Rashid naked.”
At that very moment, one could drop a pin on the sand and everyone would hear it.
It was like time had stopped as still as everyone who heard Altaïr.
Rahim’s mouth gaped open.
Hamaal froze and turned to stare at Altaïr with wide eyes.
Meekhal who had been running behind Rahim stopped.
“You idiots! Move!”
Adha’s shout came too late and Altaïr quickly pushed Rahim, making him stumble towards Meekhal. Hamaal felt the cold sting of Altaïr’s blunt blade against his neck and he fell on the floor at the same time Oded announced that he was out. Rahim and Meekhal were on the ground, trying to scramble off one another, grunting when Altaïr jumped on them. Altaïr tapped his swords over the side of their necks quickly before stepping off them as he said just as calmly, “That was a joke.”
Rahim stared at him with an open mouth while Altaïr walk away. He spluttered for a moment before shouting, “That was a joke?!”
Meekhal laughed underneath him as he said, “Altaïr’s a funny guy.”
“He’s not funny!”
Zain and Adha readied themselves while Altaïr approached them, “So that was your plan? Try to make me angry?”
“30 seconds left!” Oded announced and Desmond could see Altaïr’s left eye twitch.
“You had a better chance if all of you just came at me all at once.” Altaïr noted before charging them. Zain and Adha glanced at one another before they charged him as well. Zain raised his daggers when Altaïr was just in front of him and his eyes widened when Altaïr let go of his sword as he performed a horizontal swipe.
They realized too late that Altaïr had feinted an attack to throw his sword at Adha’s direction.
The sword reached Adha who quickly tried to block it with her dagger, the force of Altaïr’s throw breaking her hastily made defenses. As she staggered, Altaïr grabbed Zain’s wrist and pushed his own dagger against his neck. Zain let go of his other dagger to grab Altaïr’s hand and they both fell on the sand with Altaïr on top of the smaller man. Zain gritted his teeth and Altaïr knew that he was delaying the inevitable. Zain was smaller and lighter than Altaïr. With Altaïr on top of him, he was in a severe disadvantage in terms of strength.
But he didn’t need to win against Altaïr.
He just needed to last long enough for Adha to attack him.
He expected Altaïr to let go of him and jump back to avoid Adha’s attack.
So neither he nor Adha expected Altaïr to let Adha attack him, only moving enough for her strike to hit his shoulder instead of his neck. Their surprise was all Altaïr needed, plunging Zain’s dagger against his neck with one hand while his other hand grabbed his other dagger on the ground and striking Adha with the butt of the dagger on the forehead before Oded could even finish announcing the three points Altaïr took for taking the hit on his shoulder.
“Five points for both Adha and Zain! Altaïr wins this round with two points remaining!” Oded announced and many of the recruits cheered. Many of the Assassins clapped while almost all of them began to murmur to one another.
Altaïr stood and offered his hand at Zain quietly who took it. He pulled Zain up just as the rest of his opponents reached them.
“That was a ballsy move.” Hamaal commented with his hands on his waist, “But not gonna lie. The whole naked Rashid thing was definitely the highlight of this entire fight.”
“Don’t remind me.” Rahim groaned as he rubbed his eyes, “I’m going to have nightmares over that one for weeks. No. Months.”
“It was funny though.” Meekhal said with a grin, “Congratulations, Altaïr. You’re really skilled.”
Altaïr opened his mouth but stopped before he could say what he thought of first. Instead, he nodded as he said, “Thank you. Your coordination with one another was flawless.”
Rahim snorted, “Really? Meekhal didn’t even get to do anything.”
“He was going to block my next attacks to give you and Hamaal time to step back and attack me from either side, was he not?” Altaïr asked, making all of them blink at him. Altaïr nodded as he said, “I figured that I wouldn’t be able to take you all down in three minutes if I let you take a more defensive approach.”
“Well, I see you live up to your title of Eagle of Masyaf.” Amir paused before saying sheepishly, “I suppose we shouldn’t be calling you that anymore. Apologies, Altaïr.”
“I don’t mind.” Altaïr said with a slight shake of his head, “I would appreciate it if you call me by name instead.”
“We can do that.” Hamaal nodded.
“You should join us for lunch later.” Meekhal suggested, “We can go eat in the inn for once-”
“I’m afraid Altaïr will be eating dinner with me, my younger brother and Khalid’s family.” Desmond said as he reached them. He stood next to Altaïr and looked him over, placing a hand on his arm as he asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m alright. Adha’s strike hit the leather, not my actual shoulder.” Altaïr answered softly, placing a hand over Desmond’s, “I didn’t even feel it, I promise.”
“Imagine having to suffer through all that for days.” Adha dryly said, making Desmond roll his eyes. They dropped their hands and faced the others.
“Regardless, your last attack was pretty good, Adha. We need to work on exposing you to other scenarios so you won’t get too surprised by something like Altaïr’s actions just now.” Desmond said, making Adha nod.
“Yes, mentor.”
Desmond poked the same spot on Adha’s forehead where Altaïr had taken her out as he reminded lightly, “Not yet a mentor.”
Adha just rolled her eyes as she lightly smacked Desmond’s hand.
“I talked to Oded by the way while you guys were talking to Altaïr. He’s agreed to place you in the same batch as the one you joined before. You start tomorrow.” Desmond continued, “Your afternoon schedule will be under my supervisions though so come to my office tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you, Desmond.” Adha said with a smile.
“Hey, if you ever need a co-instructor, we’re free.” Hamaal suggested before commenting, “We’ve been a bit free since you ‘eloped’.”
“Don’t worry. I might have a mission for you guys soon.” Desmond said.
“Oh, I see. You just got back and you’re already shipping us off.” Rahim joked, making Desmond laugh.
“How about we all have dinner together later as my apology for ‘eloping’.” Desmond suggested with a grin, turning to face Altaïr as he asked, “That’s okay, right?”
“Of course.” Altaïr nodded, his lips curving into a small smile, “I would like to get to know your friends more.”
At the clear sincerity of his voice, Desmond’s grin grew brighter.
… and he ignored the rolling eyes all around the two of them.
Chapter 70
Notes:
No beta due to RL
Sorry for not updating last week. For those who don’t check my Tumblr, I got my arm cut and had to get a tetanus shot and that blew out my writing schedule last week TTATT
We’re back on our Monday updates though :)
Chapter Text
Jalāl liked his big brother’s friends. They were nice and they would play with Jalāl whenever they could.
So when his big brother got a new friend, he was excited to meet De’s new friend.
When he was starting his morning lesson, he heard people speaking behind the door to his study. His instructor sighed and opened the door.
Jalāl kept quiet because he knew that his instructor was going to scold the people speaking on the other side of the door.
One of the recruits got scolded last week for shouting.
Jalāl wasn’t sure why but the floor got wet and Jalāl wasn’t allowed to walk on them, getting carried out of the hallway after his lessons.
He tried to continue to practice his writing when he heard that his brother’s friends were having a match with his new friend and he wanted to watch.
His instructor looked ready to say no so Jalāl gave him the look that always made his brother agree to do what he wanted.
His guards for this morning promised to take him there and they were nice. They didn’t talk to Jalāl as much as Zain but that was okay.
Zain and Kāve were special.
He got there just as the match was beginning and one of the guards lifted him up so he could see above the heads of the other people around. There were a lot of people and they were all watching the match intently that they didn’t even notice him at the very back.
And Jalāl didn’t know if any of them realize he was there.
Because he was too focused on his brother’s new friend.
He looked a lot like his brother but there was something about the way he moved that Jalāl couldn’t explain with his limited vocabulary.
All he could think of was…
His brother’s new friend was soooooo cool.
Assassins with families of their own usually had a house in between the third and second gates that led to the castle proper. Officially, it had no name though. Those who lived there usually just say that they lived between the second and third gate. Desmond liked to call it the ‘Assassin subdivision’ in his head. Khalid, however, had lived in the Shadow’s Tower since he was ‘shipped’ to Alamut. When he got married, Diya al-Dīn gave him one of the empty houses there for his growing family. Nine months later, Hilde gave birth to a chubby baby girl.
Desmond had only visited them twice since then, mostly because he had been too busy. Hilde did enjoy the liberties given to a wife of an Assassin by visiting Desmond’s office while he had been tutoring Peredur and Khalid was assisting him. She always bought them fruits and fresh bread that she and Maria had baked themselves using the small clay oven outside their home that had been there before they moved in.
Every time Desmond asked how Maria and baby Dana were doing and they always said that Maria was doing fine, enjoying the life of taking care of their child in the comforts of their home.
Desmond believed it.
He didn’t really know Maria all that well but she had always been… ‘uninterested’ in performing her duties as a nymph. Hilde told him Maria liked him (not that way, thank god, that would have been awkward) and she barely managed to look him in the eyes most of the time.
He never heard anyone speak ill of her but speaking about the nymphs outside of the thermae was considered rude.
While he was not totally sure what kind of relationship the three had, he wouldn’t be surprised if a big part of Khalid marrying Maria was so she would no longer be a nymph.
Again, Desmond didn’t really know and he wasn’t going to pry.
So he just gave Altaïr a brief description of Maria and Hilde before focusing on his experiments with Khalid.
“That reminds me…” Desmond shrugged as he thought out loud, “I should ask Adha if she wants to visit the wolfsbane patch outside.”
“She never agreed to throwing Minerva’s ashes there.” Altaïr reminded him, ignoring Jalāl’s big curious eyes staring at him.
When Desmond returned with his younger brother in his arms, he introduced the two. Altaïr barely managed to say ‘hello’ before the boy had pressed his face on his brother’s shoulder and hugged him tightly.
Desmond’s ‘he’s just a bit shy’ sounded more of a way to console Altaïr considering Altaïr remembered how cheerful the boy had been talking to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s son.
Speaking of which…
“Are you close to the sultan of Ḥalab?” Altaïr asked as they walked the road that would lead them to the houses. It was a smaller road compared to the main road that would lead to the third gate. He kept ignoring Jalāl because he realized that Jalāl would hide his face if he even tried to turn to face him. Jalāl seemed to not mind being ignored and continued to stare at him.
His big curious eyes reminded Altaïr a lot of Aquila.
He supposed that wasn’t strange since Desmond was a major part of the young boy’s life.
“az-Zahir?” Desmond hummed for a moment before he answered, “I wouldn’t call him a close friend but I don’t think it would be a lie to call him a friend in general.”
Altaïr hummed at the description but didn’t ask any follow up question. Instead, he suggested, “Perhaps you can ask for his assistance concerning the team you will send to Ḥalab.”
Desmond glanced at him. He did tell Altaïr about the mentor’s plan concerning Alamut’s next action and Desmond’s task of finalizing the Assassins who will be joining the mission.
It warmed Desmond’s heart how Altaïr was trying to help in his own way even though his situation in Alamut was still a bit rocky at the moment.
It wasn’t like everyone would just believe the Eagle of Masyaf would betray his mentor and father figure for love of all things.
Desmond only heard about it from his father when they were having breakfast but Altaïr’s appearance had already spread throughout Alamut and the Assassins were divided about what they think of him.
The scholars were mainly united in welcoming him, less because they were such nice guys and more because his inclusion to Alamut would mean more books for Peredur to write.
Apparently… they had grown to like the profits they received from the books and how it helped with their tower and their research.
But that wasn’t important… for now.
“I was thinking of making the team in Ḥalab more like a ‘red herring’ than an actual investigative team.” Desmond told him.
… especially since it was most likely that the evidence they need would be in Masyaf or with the Templars.
To be more exact…
The Nines.
“A red herring?”
Desmond hummed, wondering how to explain it.
“Okay, so, let’s say… uuuhh…” Desmond looked around before finally giving up and continuing, “Let’s say that you smelled something funny in my room while I’m away. It’s a strange sour smell that you know shouldn’t be in the room. You enter my room and find Aquila has made a mess of the pillows, destroying almost all of them. Among the pillows, you see flowers scattered all over and Aquila is even holding one of those flowers in his beak.”
Jalāl’s attention was fully on Desmond now, brows furrowed as he tried to understand what his brother was saying.
“What do you do?” Desmond asked Altaïr as they ignored the curious look of the people in or near their homes. No one tried to talk to them but Desmond did nod at a few of them that he sorta remembered. Many of them used to be nymphs which wasn’t surprising. Assassins tended to marry the nymphs they fall in love with. Of course, the nymphs had to agree to the marriage and most of them did.
For them, becoming an Assassin’s wife was a ‘promotion’ of some sort… in its own twisted way.
There were those who did love the Assassin they married or someone who married someone she wasn’t necessarily in love with but cared for all the same.
He’d have to talk to Hilde about how to make them understand that the nymphs were allowed to train to be an Assassin if they wanted.
… after Adha showed her skills and abilities as an Assassin and Desmond’s place as the next mentor wasn’t as rocky as it was right now.
“I’ll check if Aquila is alright.” Altaïr answered, “He wouldn’t destroy your property without a reason.”
“And that’s how you fall for the red herring.” Desmond told him with a smile before reminding, “Do you remember why you opened the door in the first place?”
“Because of the sour smell…” Altaïr tilted his head, ignoring Jalāl who tilted his head as well as if copying him, as he asked, “But isn’t it possible they’re related?”
“That’s another pitfall of a red herring.” Desmond explained, “It’s something that pushes you away from your actual target either by making you focus on a completely unrelated matter or by giving you something related to your goal but won’t help you reach it. Of course, you won’t know that it won’t help until it’s too late.”
Desmond stopped at the house that was located in what might be considered the halfway point of this ‘subdivision’ as he said, “By the way, the sour smell is an open jar of poison on the desk, a few feet away from Aquila. Aquila just so happen to be throwing a tantrum at the same time.”
“Why does it sound like this example of yours truly did happen?” Altaïr asked curiously.
Desmond shrugged instead of answering him, making sure Jalāl was comfortable in his arm before knocking on the door.
“Coming!” The door opened a moment later and Hilde’s smile grew as she saw him, “Desmond! Welcome!”
“Hope we didn’t come too early.” Desmond said as Hilde stepped to the side, ushering them inside. Desmond stepped inside and put Jalāl down as he continued, “I actually wanted us to come with Khalid but they said he already left.”
“Oh, yes. He just came back. He went to town to buy eggs for later.”
Desmond glanced at Altaïr who was still standing on the other side of the doorway. He tilted his head but Altaïr kept his gaze in Hilde’s direction with his eyes were trained on the floor as he greeted, “As-salamu alaykum.”
Hilde’s smile grew as she greeted back, “Wa ‘alaykumu s-salām, Altaïr.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.” Desmond grimaced before saying, “Sorry. As-salamu alaykum.”
“Wa ‘alaykumu s-salām.” She greeted back before she chuckled, “Oh, it’s not like we’re going to be mad about it. It’s alright, Desmond.”
“You too, Jalāl.” Desmond patted his brother’s head who looked up at him before turning to face Hilde.
“Wa… wa ‘alaykumu s-salām.” Jalāl recited, his pronunciation actually better than most of the words he usually say.
Desmond had a feeling that his brother had specific lessons for these kinds of things.
Hell, Desmond had lessons for these kinds of things and he could already see Nur’s disappointed look if she ever learned that he had forgotten the very basic of etiquette in these lands.
He felt Altaïr’s hand on his back and he turned to look at him, his mind being elsewhere long enough that he actually barely heard Hilde’s reply. Altaïr kept his hand on his back as he stared at him. While his expression was blank, Desmond could see the concern in his eyes and he smiled as he said, “It’s alright, Altaïr. I’m just embarrassed over forgetting my manners.”
“It’s fine, Desmond. We know you’re not used to it. We’re just happy you’re doing your best to understand and practice our ways.” Hilde said with a smile as she walked ahead of them, making them follow her deeper into the home. It only took a few more steps for them to reach the dining room. There was a jug filled with clean water for them to use and Hilde waited as they cleaned their hands, “We’re all friends here anyway. I’m sure Allah wouldn’t mind that our dear Desmond can get a little forgetful at times.”
Desmond chuckled while helping Jalāl clean his hands and answered, “I hope so.”
Once they were cleaned, Hilde handed them pieces of clothing to wipe their hands dry before guiding them to the table.
“Baby!” Jalāl shouted as he ran towards the baby in Maria’s lap who clapped her hands when she saw him.
“Ya! Ya!” The baby cheerfully let out as she made grabby hands towards Jalāl.
“Say hello to Maria, Jalāl.” Desmond reminded him as his younger brother sat next to Maria, his attention already on the baby.
Jalāl raised his hands so the baby can grab them as he greeted absentmindedly, “Hello, Maria.”
“Hello, little prince.” Maria said quietly with a small smile, watching the two play in their own way.
“Ah, I see our dear habibti has taken the little prince’s attention as usual.” Khalid noted as he entered the dining room, holding a bowl of rice with seasoned chicken on top in one hand and a basket of freshly baked bread in his other hand. He placed them both on the table, in between what looked like a bowl of Khoresht-e Ghormeh Sabzi that Desmond remembered that Hilde cooked before.
Hilde sat on Maria’s other side and whispered loudly at Jalāl, “If you marry our Dana, you can play with her every day.”
“Every day?” Jalāl asked with wide eyes while Desmond sat on the other side with Altaïr sitting next to him, leaving a space between them.
“Planning for the future already, Hilde?” Desmond lightly joked, shaking his head fondly while Khalid sat on the head of the table.
“Aren’t we all?” Hilde asked with a smile as she turned to look at the two of them. Altaïr and Desmond looked at one another before looking away with Desmond’s cheeks reddening slightly while Altaïr’s ears grew hotter.
Desmond grinned as he patted the empty space between him and Altaïr, “Jalāl, come sit here.”
Jalāl pouted but let go the baby’s hands as he said, “Okay.”
“Nooooooo.” The baby protested before she began to babble, watching Jalāl as he walked to the other side of the table, sitting between Altaïr and Desmond.
“Excuse our habibti’s rudeness. She’s using the latest word she learned to its fullest.” Khalid commented lightly.
“It’s fine, children should never fear saying what they feel.” Desmond said as he rustled Jalāl’s hair. Jalāl giggled and lightly pushed his hand off.
“No, De!” Jalāl said in between giggles, making the baby clap her hands as she giggled as well, copying Jalāl’s ‘No, De!’ loudly.
“They grow up so fast. One moment they’re small enough to fit in your arms then the next they’re climbing the bookcases.” Desmond commented, making Khalid laugh.
“Ah, yes. I think the little prince is still forbidden to enter the scholar’s tower, isn’t he?” Khalid remembered.
“I should tell Faheem to cancel that order.” Desmond mumbled before he and Khalid look at one another. Khalid raised an eyebrow. Desmond narrowed his eyes.
Khalid chuckled lightly before presiding over the prayers, much to Desmond’s relief.
Sure, he was considered the one with the ‘highest’ standing but this was their room. He would feel awkward if he was the one presiding over it.
Once they finished praying, they waited for Desmond to eat first before they started eating as well.
“So, Altaïr…” Hilde smiled as she asked, “Has Desmond told you how we first met?”
Ah.
He had been worried that Hilde was going to grill Altaïr.
He should have been worried that they had enough embarrassing stories about Desmond to make him want to swim across the sea.
They had lunch with Desmond’s batchmates the next day and lunch with Rawiya and his family the day after.
After that, many more Assassins invited Desmond to eat with them during lunch and Desmond knew it was all an excuse to have lunch with Altaïr. Altaïr never rejected any of them even when Desmond told him that he could.
Before long, they formed a pattern.
They would wake up and water the flowers, Desmond would go have breakfast with his family while Altaïr ate breakfast with Faheem (he refused to eat breakfast with Adha at all, citing she was a traitor for some reason), Altaïr would read books scattered around Desmond’s office while he worked, they would have lunch with some of the Assassins who invited them, Desmond would work once more while Altaïr read more books. Sometimes, Altaïr would be asked for a spar and Desmond watched as much as he could (even though the screeching of the damn paperwork was waiting for him in his office). Once the sun started to set, Altaïr would wait for Desmond to finish work until they walked around the castle (they deemed it too early to visit the town together) until it was time for dinner, Desmond would eat dinner with his family while Altaïr ate with Faheem, they would take a bath in the thermae (separate rooms… for now) then they would go back to Desmond’s room and spend some time talking…
Just talking.
It was domestic.
It was peaceful.
So really…
Desmond should have known that something was going to happen soon.
The day started…
Well…
It started like every normal day.
They watered the plants.
Desmond went to have breakfast with his family while Altaïr had his own breakfast with Faheem.
That was mistake number one.
Apparently, while they were having breakfast in Faheem’s office because Faheem was a workaholic worse than Desmond and his father combined and Altaïr didn’t really care where he ate (although Desmond had an inkling that Altaïr didn’t realize it but he actually liked having meals with Faheem because he was both someone familiar and someone of a similar situation as him, Desmond knew they mostly talk about Kadar and Malik), one of the scholars knocked on the door to talk to Faheem.
That would have been a red flag already.
They ate breakfast earlier than others because they were usually busy with the unending paperwork that came into their desks each day but the people in Alamut never bothered others when they were eating unless it was an emergency.
And, from what Altaïr told him, this wasn’t an emergency. The scholar was just asking for Faheem to sign off on a request for an assistant from one of the recruits for his research.
No matter how much the scholars would dramatically say that their work was important and even go as far as say it was a matter of life and death, they knew what should count as an emergency and what didn’t.
The second red flag was the scholar directly talking to Altaïr while Faheem checked the request letter.
A lot of people have been talking to Altaïr ever since he sparred with Desmond’s batchmates. As his batchmates had planned, seeing Altaïr’s skills with their own eyes certainly helped break ‘the ice’ as some may call it. Altaïr would sometimes be asked for his opinions or questions concerning training or lessons and Adha had her batch even pester him whenever they see him. It was like…
If Desmond was to describe it…
Kadar helped Altaïr have this image of a wonderful skilled Assassin that can sometimes turn into hero worship.
Adha, on the other hand, had no qualms telling anyone who asked how dreadful it was being their third wheel. It made Altaïr less of a hero and more… not an idiot in love, per say, but… human.
Altaïr never ignored any of their request. Desmond told him he could, remembering the resigned sigh Altaïr would make whenever Rauf asked him to show something or another to the recruits in Masyaf in the memories Desmond watched using the Animus.
“I don’t mind. I… I enjoy teaching others.”
Desmond could see that he was telling the truth and realized that resigned sigh wasn’t because he didn’t want to teach others but because he knew that Rauf was doing it so the recruits wouldn’t just see him as ‘the man who failed his mission and was being punished’.
There was a difference even though they were both trying to help Altaïr.
Rauf was trying to show others that Altaïr was a good person because he was worried about the growing rift between Altaïr and the rest of their Brotherhood.
Adha was trying to show others that Altaïr was a good person because she wanted him to feel at home in Alamut.
They weren’t doing it out of pity but because they cared. The only problem was that Altaïr was too jaded and angry to see Rauf’s actions as anything but ‘pity’.
But this Altaïr…
Desmond’s Altaïr…
He saw Adha’s actions for what they were for his heart was not clouded by the tragedy that changed how he saw the Creed and the Brotherhood’s tenets.
It was getting easier and easier to differentiate the two. The Altaïr from Desmond’s memories and this Altaïr by his side.
They were the same person but the way Desmond felt for them was growing different as time passed by.
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was the most important thing right now was what was happening in the scholar’s tower.
Desmond had just left the castle after breakfast when one of the recruits ran towards him, panicking and saying that he needed to come to the scholar’s tower immediately.
Apparently, Altaïr had incited an uprising.
Desmond didn’t believe that at all.
Of all the people who were part of the scholar’s tower, the one that Desmond would first think of to push for an uprising would be Peredur.
No one would join Khalid in rebelling, many of them would believe that Khalid had an ulterior motive to do such a thing (and they would be right).
Faheem would never plan a coup, mainly because he was too busy with the paperwork to even organize such a thing.
And Altaïr?
Altaïr wanted Desmond’s parents to like him and he wanted the people of Alamut to see that Desmond didn’t make a mistake ‘eloping’ with him and bringing him to Alamut.
He wasn’t going to destroy his image.
So he went to the scholar’s tower and…
The good news: there was no actual planning for any kind of uprising nor was anyone injured or hurt.
The bad news?
Every scholar was on the first floor, trying to debate with one another but only ended up shouting over each other.
The first floor was not equipped to have these many people.
Desmond felt like he was watching a human version of too many sardines all packed in a single can.
Faheem was at the center of this storm, head down with his hands covering his face.
Altaïr was next to him, seemingly listening to everyone shouting all over the room while he sipped tea. He noticed Desmond and quickly turned away from him as he slightly moved his hand, giving Desmond a gesture every Assassin knew.
‘Run’.
Desmond quickly hid in the shadows and tried to understand what was happening.
From what he could catch from the scholars all speaking at the same time…
They were talking about next year’s budget.
Specifically: which ‘research’ should have more financial assistance than the others.
Ah.
Desmond guessed what happened later that day once he learned how the scholar had invited Altaïr.
It had been a trap.
They knew that Faheem would not fall for a trap like this but, by inviting Altaïr to the scholar’s tower under the guise of wishing to know him better, Faheem would be forced to join because he wouldn’t want Altaïr to enter the tower without any backup.
No one was more paranoid of what the scholars have in plan at all times than Faheem.
Desmond had a feeling that the scholars already had a planned budget to present to Faheem and they was planning to pressure him into signing in. There were reports from Faheem that their budget for next year being smaller than usual because their most profitable ‘work’ (Peredur’s books) was currently in hiatus and, as far as Desmond knew, only he and his father read those reports. Which meant that the scholars had figured that one out on their own.
Then Altaïr saw the budget and got curious about the research topics. Perhaps he had asked about one of the topics. A scholar got too passionate over his explanation, accidentally saying something along the lines of ‘I should have more funds than the others’ and that opened the floodgates.
Desmond was willing to sacrifice Altaïr, to be perfectly honest.
It might have been an accident but this was a hell of his own making.
And he was just about to leave (already thinking of how he could make it up to Altaïr later) when the door opened.
Peredur entered the tower, the dark lines under his eyes prominent enough that he looked like he had used too much eyeliner. His gait was a bit unstable and he had the look of a man that had forgotten that a human body required sleep.
He raised a stack of papers above his head with two hands as he shouted, “Where’s Khalid?! I need a proofreader! The next book is done!”
And the entire tower erupted into chaos.
… while Desmond felt the desire to grab Altaïr and actually elope to what would later be known as America right the fuck now.
Chapter Text
The Prince of Sands.
That was the name of the book that Altaïr was reading. A book he simply started to read because he found the first book on Faheem’s desk.
Normally, he wouldn’t have read it without asking for permission first. He had been raised with manners, no matter what Abbas say.
But the book was simply there, almost as if it was waiting for him.
Altaïr wasn’t stupid. Faheem told him to come to his office when Desmond left but he was nowhere to be found and the book was on top of the desk, placed on the right side, away from all the stacks of paper and rolled up parchments, angled slightly off just enough that it would catch Altaïr’s attention.
It was clear that Faheem wanted him to notice the book and read it.
He figured it was Faheem’s way of giving Altaïr something to do while he was away.
But Faheem was Malik and Kadar’s father.
And, if Altaïr knew anything about the Al Sayf men, it was that they didn’t show their pettiness through direct confrontation but through subterfuge.
Malik hid his pettiness in his reports and strategically placed conversations that certain people would hear and get the idea of doing Malik’s dirty work for him. The man was infuriating like that. Malik was the man behind Rauf’s insistence of always asking Altaïr to help train the recruits. He made sure Rauf heard him tell Altaïr how he should take the time to teach the recruits since he seemed to enjoy teaching Kadar.
Rauf believed that Altaïr enjoyed teaching others.
Altaïr was just helping out Kadar because they were friends.
Malik had previously told Altaïr that maybe repeating the basics over and over again would help Altaïr remember the basics of teamwork.
The next day, Rauf started asking Altaïr to help train the recruits. Altaïr could never say no because the recruits all look varying degrees of hopeful and worried.
Just as Malik had planned…
On the other hand, Kadar’s pettiness showed with how he used the rumors circulating in Masyaf. He was friends with a lot of people in Masyaf, both in the castle and in the village below, and almost all of the Flowers in Paradise know him because he was one of the few men who would regularly be ordered to bring supplies into Paradise. Many of them took care of him as a babe and thought of him as their innocent adorable little brother or son (much to Kadar’s grief because it made the idea of even asking for a Flower to ‘teach’ him both embarrassing and a bit too uncomfortable). Kadar used his connection to spread rumors that would never be traced back to him. He was the master of saying something in passing in a way that would gradually grow and grow the more people hear it.
So, yes, Altaïr felt that the book was a trap.
He expected it to be a trap for him.
Not for Desmond.
The Prince of Sands was a book series that was published and distributed here in Alamut.
Altaïr was surprised that Rashid didn’t know about it.
Until he learned how it was being distributed.
Alamut’s Assassins would pose as merchants from Razmian, peddling their books as they journey along the road that merchants heavily favor, moving east and taking reports of other Assassins stationed there along the way.
The books themselves were sold to those who already knew about them, costing more than usual because of it’s limited quantity. Something that they deliberately did to make an excuse of selling it for a higher price.
There was even a ‘reservation’ fee that was part of this entire scheme and, from what Altaïr heard, Desmond had a hand in that.
Ensuring the existence of the problem called ‘scarcity’ in order to rake more profit.
It was evil.
But Desmond was the one who suggested it so Altaïr didn’t mind.
So the main reason why Altaïr had never heard of this book before was because Alamut made sure it wouldn’t be anywhere near Masyaf at all.
Altaïr had thought they did it because they didn’t want Rashid to learn of how the scholars got their funds.
Then…
He read the second book.
The first book was the adventure of the titular prince, Dastan, in a castle that went by the name of the Castle of Ancient Eagles, as he tried his luck in becoming a soldier. It was entertaining enough in Altaïr’s opinion. It ended with Dastan being inducted into the elite soldiers of the castle and it was overall a satisfying ending with Dastan finding a place in the castle and a promise of a bright future.
The second book though…
That was when Altaïr realized why he felt this slight annoyance that persisted the entire time he was reading.
The second book was another adventure for Dastan, traveling to another castle as he learned the ways of being an elite. It was in this book that Dastan learned that the man who took him in when he first came to the castle was actually the sultan and that he planned to adopt Dastan as his heir.
And that the castle was currently at odds with another castle, ruled by a man that used to be an elite.
And in that ‘rival’ castle was a man known as the soaring vulture, Shahbaz, who was described as someone that rivaled Dastan in everything.
It was clear that Dastan was based on Desmond and this Shahbaz was based on him.
Altaïr wasn’t sure what to think about this, especially when the third book talked about how Dastan was going to be married to Tamina who, now that Altaïr knew what to look for, was obviously based on Adha.
Adha did tell him that Desmond was supposed to be the man that she was meant to be betrothed to but Desmond refused it until all talks of their betrothal quietly died off. Adha had been glad about it and she didn’t feel offended nor bitter at all.
Adha already knew that Desmond liked men and had been ready to be a wife who played nice with her husband’s male lover.
When their betrothal died before it could even become official, Adha wasn’t surprised. Honestly, she liked Desmond more as a brother (or a cousin since her aunt was one of Desmond’s mothers) than a husband.
And she preferred being an Assassin.
It would be an insult to Adha if these books ended with Dastan and Tamina getting married.
And that was why he continued to read the third book.
And the fourth…
By the time he finished the fourth book, one thing was clear.
Someone knew about his first meeting with Desmond.
The logical conclusion would be that Desmond shared it with the author or someone close to the author who relayed that information to the author.
But Desmond wasn’t the type of person who would share such things to others. Altaïr noticed early on that Desmond kept a lot of things hidden from others.
So this would mean that someone learned of it through some other means.
Altaïr pushed aside ‘how’ and focused on ‘who’. Once he had a ‘who’, it would be easier to deduce ‘how’.
It couldn’t be Adha. Desmond would never tell Adha how they first met, especially since Adha loved to tease them about how they act around one another.
During his first ‘official’ meeting with Desmond’s batchmates where he was mostly interrogated, it became clear that none of them were told about how they met and they even talked about the book’s description of their first meeting as the author’s imagination going wild.
That ruled out all of batchmates that Altaïr had already met and talked to as the potential leak.
It couldn’t also be Desmond’s father. Desmond wouldn’t have shared those details to a parental figure.
Faheem looked ready to order Altaïr to do 50 laps whenever Altaïr started talking about Desmond even back in Masyaf so he couldn’t really see the older Al-Sayf being the author.
He did suspect Khalid before, or maybe one of his wives, since they were close to Desmond but, after their meal, it became clear that his wives didn’t had a hand in any of these. Khalid himself told Altaïr that he was one of the proofreaders, one of three people (the other two being scholars) who read the book to check if it was readable and if the plot was comprehensible. Khalid stressed that they never asked to change anything, the most they would request for was to clarify a paragraph so it would be easier to understand.
That left Altaïr with one suspect: Rawiya. Rawiya was part of the night guard so it was hard to find the time to talk to him but they did spar once while Desmond was working. The way Rawiya fought showed more to Altaïr than any conversation they had before. Rawiya was honest and kind. But it also took him a minute before he was teasing Altaïr while they sparred. There was no way Desmond would have told him all the details of their first meeting. Rawiya wouldn’t have wasted any time teasing him about their first meeting.
But that would mean that Altaïr was missing someone who Desmond trusted enough to tell them everything.
And Altaïr couldn’t figure out who it was.
Altaïr was worried.
He was worried that there was someone in Alamut that was close to Desmond but didn’t want to see him.
He’d rather that person come up to him and tell him straight into his face that they didn’t approve of him.
At the very least, Altaïr would know who he should be wary of.
He knew that he was being watched. Not just by those who were worried that he was Masyaf’s spy but by those who were looking for an excuse to question Desmond’s capabilities as the future mentor.
He could take it. He had a lot of experience in that front. But he did appreciate the assistance of Desmond’s close allies.
So when Peredur, the only one of Desmond’s batchmates Altaïr did not talk to since he came to Alamut, brandished the papers in his hands like an offering, Altaïr came to a conclusion that made him want to return to Masyaf immediately.
Desmond wouldn’t have shared to Peredur the details of their first meeting. It wasn’t in his nature.
But Peredur knew about it.
That only meant…
The leak wasn’t from Desmond’s side, it was from Altaïr’s.
It was Kadar.
Kadar was the only person who knew how their first meeting went because Altaïr told him.
Because Altaïr had asked Kadar if he knew what the strange feeling Altaïr felt that day when he felt Desmond’s hand on his cheek could be.
Kadar was also the only person who had a regular correspondence with Peredur, the author of those books.
Altaïr never told Kadar that he needed to keep their conversations a secret from anyone. He expected Malik to hear about it sooner or later.
But to tell Peredur…
To help him recreate their first meeting and leave it unfinished…
Altaïr was offended.
“Khalid.”
“Ah, Altaïr, finally managed to escape the academic passion of our scholars?” Khalid teased as he placed a glass cover over the bowl he had been mixing ingredients in. A quick glance at his desk was all Altaïr needed to know that he shouldn’t touch anything.
Desmond told him about his side projects he had with Khalid, recreating tools of these so-called Hidden Ones and analyzing how they could be used by the Brotherhood.
Altaïr had been fascinated with the ‘prototype’ smoke bombs that Desmond and Adha had brought with them. They never had to use them though but Desmond gave Altaïr one and told him to throw it with a playful grin on his face.
The smoke that erupted from that small casing had been fascinating.
“So, how can I be of help, my friend?” Khalid asked as he placed both of his hands on the desk, “Ah, if you’re here to ask for the same smoke bombs Desmond brought, I’m afraid I cannot give any to you unless you bring me the proper paperwork.”
“Paperwork?” Altaïr tilted his head.
“Something like this.” Khalid opened the second drawer of his desk and grabbed a piece of paper inside. He flipped it open before handing it to Altaïr.
It just said “I made them so I’m taking six – Desmond” in Desmond’s handwriting.
Altaïr’s lips twitched before he could stop himself and he handed the paper back to Khalid as he said, “I will make sure to get the proper paperwork before requesting anything.”
Khalid grinned as he took the paper and returned it inside the drawer. He closed the drawer as he asked lightly, “I’m sure you’d have no problems with that. So, anything I can help you with?”
“I would like to be one of the proofreaders.”
Altaïr turned around when he heard the sound of something dropping to the floor. It turned out to be an Assassin who was by the bookcase, hand still in the air even as the book he had been reading was lying on the floor. The Assassin didn’t even look embarrassed, just staring at Altaïr with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
Khalid cleared his throat but the Assassin just kept staring at Altaïr. Altaïr turned around to look back at Khalid and tilted his head. Khalid waved his hand as he said, “Ignore him. So… you want to become one of the proofreaders?”
Altaïr nodded and Khalid’s grin dimmed a bit as he joked, “Enjoyed the books, huh? What’s your favorite-”
“I know it’s based on Desmond’s life here in Alamut.” Altaïr cut him off, understanding that he had put Khalid in a difficult position.
“Oh, that makes things easier. So you want to keep a close eye on how Peredur write you then? Make sure he doesn’t destroy your character?” Khalid asked with a tilt of his head, “Desmond refuses to even finish a single book and just asks me to summarize them. He never really cared how he’s portrayed but I know that it’s normal to want-”
“I don’t care how he writes me.” Altaïr clarified.
“Oh?” Khalid blinked, surprised by Altaïr’s words.
“I only wish to make sure that he will not write anything that would be unflattering towards Desmond.”
Khalid stared at him.
Altaïr stared back.
The two of them stared at one another for a second before Khalid burst out laughing. He placed a hand on his belly and took a few deep breaths before he said, “Alright. I’ll talk to Faheem and coordinate when you’d be given the draft to proofread. I’ll also talk to you about how we do our proofreading afterwards so come visit me anytime tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Khalid.” Altaïr nodded.
“No gratitude necessary, my friend. Just…” Khalid leaned closer and said with a grin, “If you’re going to storm Peredur, do tell me beforehand so I can watch- I mean… assist you.”
“Very well.” Altaïr nodded once more, “If it does come to that, I will allow you to find joy in Peredur’s suffering.”
Khalid laughed and patted Altaïr’s arm, “You’re such a funny guy, Altaïr.”
…
Altaïr was not joking though?
When Altaïr returned to the mentor’s tower, Desmond was already in their room, feeding Aquila and Maud.
“Hey. Finally escaped the scholars?” Desmond teased when he entered the room. Aquila and Maud raised their heads to look at him for a moment before returning to their meal by the foot of the mountain of pillows, staying on either side of Desmond and ignoring each other.
“I talked to Khalid for a bit concerning Peredur’s next book.” Altaïr explained as he walked towards them. He went down on his knees and kissed Desmond, feeling Desmond’s lips curve into a smile as they deepened their kiss.
Altaïr pulled away when he felt the two eagles peck his hands and sighed, sitting in front of Desmond while Desmond chuckled. Desmond held out the bag of dried meats and Altaïr grabbed one, giving it to Maud while Desmond gave another to Aquila.
“That’s enough for today, okay?” Desmond said as Aquila nod and Maud glared at him. He tapped Maud’s head with his point finger as he said, “No more. If you’re still hungry, go hunt in the forest but make sure to get home before nightfall, okay?”
Aquila let out a trill while Maud just nod slightly.
“I finished the list of people I think we can send out to investigate Rashid.” Desmond grabbed three pieces of paper that was on top of one of the pillows and handed them to Altaïr, “I’ll be talking to Faheem about it later and I’d really appreciate it if you joined the meeting.”
“Of course.” Altaïr nodded before he turned his attention on the pieces of paper in his hands.
Masyaf.
Damascus.
Tyre.
Jerusalem.
Acre.
And…
Ḥalab.
Altaïr’s brows furrowed when he noticed who he was planning to send to Masyaf.
“Nahir is one of Rawiya’s brothers, correct? He’s the one who usually join the team that takes Masyaf’s monthly report.” Altaïr remembered, earning a nod from Desmond, “He’s a good choice. He has been to Masyaf many times before so he should remember the layout of the village and the keep. If they memorize the map I made and the routes I added, they’d have an easier time getting in without anyone noticing.”
“The other two though… Peredur and Khalid?” Altaïr tilted his head as he said, “I was under the impression the two of them were permanently stationed here in Alamut.”
He highly doubted those scholars would let such an important ‘writer’ be in danger.
“They’re not scholars, Altaïr.” Desmond reminded him, “Sure, Khalid spent most of his days in his lab and Peredur could probably quit being an Assassin and live comfortably as a writer by this point but they still train whenever they can and they do go on missions.”
“I picked Khalid because I want one of them to be able to use the tools we’ve been developing in case something happens. They are infiltrating a place filled with Assassins. Better to give them as many surprises as they can carry.” Desmond explained, “As for Peredur…”
Desmond paused for a moment before he continued, “You know he gets letters from Kadar, right?”
“I do.” Altaïr frowned.
Desmond seemed to not want to talk about the books but Altaïr had the feeling he already knew that Kadar had a hand in Peredur’s accurate portrayal of their first meeting.
“So I figured that Peredur would have the best chance of getting Kadar to leave with them.”
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he asked, “Is it so that he could reunite with his father here in Alamut?”
Desmond blinked before he said, “Oh, no. I mean, it would be nice if they reunite and Kadar stays here with his father, sure, but…”
Desmond smiled as he said, “I was thinking of you, Altaïr.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.” Desmond’s smile turned into a grin, “He’s your closest friend, Altaïr. Of course, I want you to have him here with us.”
“Desmond…” Altaïr wasn’t sure what he should say. No one had never prioritized what they believed Altaïr would want before.
Then again…
Altaïr was the same, wasn’t he?
He was trying to prioritize what Desmond wanted the most.
Perhaps this was a good thing.
They were trying to think of what each other’s wants. By themselves, it would be concerning.
But together…
It just felt natural.
Right.
And so, there was really nothing else Altaïr could say but…
“Thank you.”
Chapter 72
Notes:
Not beta’ed because of RL
Chapter Text
“I reject the secondary objective of the team we will be sending to Masyaf.” Faheem announced as he crossed his arms.
“I’m telling you about the team we’re sending to Masyaf because I thought you’d like my plan.” Desmond sighed.
This meeting was more of a courtesy, to be more exact.
Desmond didn’t even have to tell Faheem about the plan in the first place but he felt that Faheem deserved to know this since he was one of Rashid’s ‘victims’… when one was to think about it.
“You’re planning to make my youngest son a deserter.” Faheem dryly said before turning to look at Altaïr as he added in the same dry tone, “No offense.”
Altaïr just shrugged, not offended at all.
“And if we’re lucky, we can get Malik to come to Alamut to confront you two and get him to stay here too.” Desmond said with a smile.
“Desmond.” Faheem growled as he glared, “This is not a laughing matter. Deserters are traitors in the eyes of the Brotherhood. They’d be lucky if they were taken back to Masyaf for trial. Most of them are simply taken out as soon as they are found.”
“Altaïr doesn’t count as a deserter.” Faheem added when Desmond was about to point at him.
“You just called him one a moment ago!” Desmond reminded him but Faheem completely ignored that ‘little contradiction’.
“Your father had graciously sent a message to Rashid that he has transferred Altaïr to Alamut because he is now your concubine.” Faheem explained instead.
Desmond’s jaw slacked. Altaïr seemed to think about it for a second before he said calmly, “That isn’t exactly wrong.”
“I’m not calling you my concubine.” Desmond sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He turned his attention back to Faheem as he said, “So what you’re saying is that my father used the fact that he is technically Rashid’s boss to tell Rashid off. We’ll just say the same with Kadar.”
Faheem looked unimpressed by Desmond’s half-baked plan.
“Come on. This is better for everyone. We all know Rashid’s going to use Altaïr’s friendship with Kadar to mess with him.” Desmond reminded him.
Faheem remained quiet but his brows did burrow. Desmond met his gaze and they stared at one another for a few seconds before Faheem finally sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he asked, “What do you need from me? I know you didn’t just tell me about such a confidential mission because you think I would ‘like’ it.”
Desmond grinned as he said, “I want you and Altaïr to write a short letter to Kadar that the team will bring with them. You know, so Kadar would know that we’re planning to kidnap him so he could come here.”
Faheem stared at Desmond for a moment before he turned to look at Altaïr, “This is the man you chose to love?”
“He is.” Altaïr answered with a nod and Desmond’s lips twitched when he noticed how resigned Faheem looked.
He didn’t have the heart to tell him that Altaïr knew it was a sarcastic question that Faheem didn’t expect Altaïr to reply to. Altaïr replied to him seriously because he knew it would annoy the older man.
Because he knew that Desmond would enjoy it.
Talking to his parents had been easier. They listened to Desmond’s reasoning for the members he picked for each team and what their objectives would be.
No one even asked why getting Kadar Al-Sayf from Masyaf was a secondary objective for the Masyaf team.
Desmond wasn’t sure if they knew that Altaïr and Kadar were close or if they believe that Kadar’s familial ties with Faheem was enough to ensure his safety. Considering they were secretly investigating the master of Masyaf Castle, they had to prepare for the worst case scenario.
An all out war with Masyaf.
It was a long shot but they couldn’t ignore the possibility. So taking Kadar Al-Sayf out of Masyaf was a good plan.
“What about Faheem’s other son?” Raiza asked him once the list has been finalized.
No revision.
It certainly made Desmond feel warm, knowing that they trusted his judgment.
“Malik’s… a lot harder to bring to our side.” Desmond answered with a slight frown. He burned the paper he had prepared that detailed the team members and their objectives as he explained, “The best way to get him to our side is to bring him proof of Rashid’s betrayal. He’s highly respected in Masyaf as well…”
… before he lost his arm.
No.
He wasn’t going to lose his arm anymore.
Because Desmond would make sure Malik was nowhere near Jerusalem when it was time for him to get the Apple.
“… so if anyone can get Assassins from Masyaf to question Rashid, it would be Malik.” Desmond continued. He closed his eyes as he continued, “I’m not saying that Malik can lead the charge though…”
That was asking too much.
As respected as Malik was, he wasn’t even a Master Assassin yet. If Desmond remembered correctly, he would become a Master Assassin early next year, a few months before the mission in Jerusalem. He didn’t have as much trust and respect as he would have in the original timeline, as the Dai in charge of Jerusalem.
As the one who succeeded where the great Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad had failed.
The Malik in this timeline was well respected by those younger than him or those who had missions with him and by the informants. But the ones they needed on their side was the council members in Masyaf. They would have the most authority in Masyaf after Rashid and his Keeper.
“But he can… talk to the others. Plant the seed of doubt in them.” Desmond added, “I asked Faheem to think about which the council member we’ll contact once we have proof… I… I think it would be better if we let Masyaf take care of this.”
“You want Masyaf to judge their master.” Nur said calmly.
“Yes.” Desmond nodded, “If we were to take point, they might see us as outsiders wishing to take control of Masyaf. We must understand that Masyaf is no longer our subordinate.”
Desmond stared at the fire that consumed the documents he had written for the sole purpose of explaining the plan.
Fire gave humanity warmth.
Yet it consumed all it touched.
“If we wish to form a bond with our brothers in Masyaf, we must treat them as our equals.”
The plan was a bit vague, all things considered. It couldn’t be helped though. As much as Desmond wanted to direct them to specific locations and people he knew was connected to the Templars, he didn’t necessarily know if there were documents or other items that can be counted as evidence of Rashid’s Templar affiliation.
The only reason why Altaïr in the original timeline even learned of Rashid’s betrayal was because Malik started to investigate the targets Altaïr assassinated and because Rashid decided to control the people of Masyaf using the Apple.
Oh.
And because Robert de Sablé told Altaïr that little fact while he was dying.
Desmond had no memories of what Malik had found that led him to realize that Rashid was using them.
So he would take a page of what Malik did.
And investigate the Nines.
But Desmond had to be vague about it.
‘Investigate all high ranking officials and anyone with significant power in the area, regardless if they sided with the crusaders or not. Find out if any missions in that area Rashid gave the Assassins from the last ten years helped them gain more power or connection.’
That should cover the people he truly wanted them to investigate.
While he and Altaïr…
“The Basilisk?”
“That’s the title they gave him.” Desmond explained, “With Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn executing Gérard de Ridefort last year, the Templars don’t have a Grand Master yet. He took over the leadership of the Templars and any crusaders under their command at the mean time.”
“And he’s the one in charge of finding you.” Altaïr added with narrowed eyes.
“Of finding the Chalice.” Desmond clarified before shrugging as he added, “But, since everyone believes I’m the Chalice, yeah, we can say he’s in charge of finding and ‘acquiring’ me.”
“And you believe him to be here in Tyre?” Altaïr asked as he looked over the city beneath them as they stayed on the spire of the largest church in Tyre, using it as their viewpoint as they talked about their part in this plan.
Desmond shook his head and sighed before answering, “We’re not sure if he’s here. Our informant only said that he was seen in the docks a week ago. He could be in another fort or castle already.”
Desmond only requested Altaïr to be with him in this mission, mainly because he saw no reason to why they needed a third Assassin in their ‘party’. For one, Aquila and Maud could be counted as the best scouts and informants they could ever had.
The people of this land didn’t know about their eagle companions, after all. The two would be safer than an informant or an Assassin doing reconnaissance for them.
“Should we show ourselves to the Rafiq here first?” Altaïr asked, “He might have an idea on where we should start in finding this Basilisk.”
“No. The bureau here is under Masyaf’s purview.” Desmond reminded Altaïr before adding, “But that doesn’t mean we’ll be going in blind on this one.”
Desmond pointed to their left, “The Templars have a hospital here. We’ll check it out just in case we can find any documents connected to their search of the Chalice and ‘Lord’ Basilisk’s current location. If not, we’ll go check their stronghold. There should be something there.”
“Are we not going to look for any proof concerning Rashid’s allegiance?” Altaïr asked curiously.
“We’ll keep an eye out for that but our main objective is to take down everyone who wants to get the Chalice. The less people know about the Chalice, the safer for all of us. Who knows…” Desmond shrugged as he added, “If we’re lucky, we’ll find what connects their search for the Chalice to Rashid’s own ‘focus’ on having the Chalice and that could be our proof.”
Desmond grinned at Altaïr as he said, “Let’s see if we’re feeling lucky today, okay?”
Altaïr’s own lips curved into a small smile as he nodded, “If not, we’ll just have to make our own luck then.”
Desmond laughed and patted Altaïr’s back.
Desmond thought this would be a nice first mission for the both of them. Infiltrate a hospital, look for documents, maybe assassinate a Templar or two if there was enough proof of their wrongdoings. Take a break and eat lunch in one of the rooftops. Infiltrate a heavily-armed Templar stronghold. Maybe assassinate the Basilisk if he was there.
Sleep somewhere then return to Alamut early in the morning.
They’d be back in Alamut before anyone would make a joke about the two of them eloping ‘again’.
Of course, there was a high chance that this jam-packed schedule would be prolonged to a few days, especially if they manage to get into a bit of trouble.
This was not a bit of trouble.
It happened while they were traversing the rooftops on their way to the hospital. Maud and Aquila had gone on ahead to check the perimeter for any guards and other possible points of interest.
Desmond had been planning to connect with Aquila once they were two rooftops away from the hospital and survey the area with Aquila’s eyes.
There was no sign of danger as they traversed the rooftops.
Then Desmond’s body reacted before his mind caught up with what was happening.
He jumped away just in time for Altaïr to grab his arm and pull him, evading the Assassin who jumped to Desmond’s previous location. Altaïr’s movements caused him to lose his balance as he wasn’t expecting it and they both rolled off the rooftop with Altaïr holding him in his arms.
They fell onto a stack of boxes on Altaïr’s back. They rolled off the boxes and Desmond tapped Altaïr’s arm as they fell on the ground. Altaïr let go of him and Desmond went on his knees, hand going towards his pouch as he heard a familiar voice shout, “What are you doing?! We’re not here to kill them!”
“Our orders were- Ugh!”
Desmond struck as soon as he heard the voice.
“Stop! We’re here on Al Mualim’s orders!” Malik stepped forward, covering Abbas as he pulled the throwing knife that Desmond hit his shoulder with. Abba threw the throwing knife to the side and pressed his hand over his bleeding shoulder.
Desmond had specifically hit the spot unprotected by his shoulder harness after all.
Desmond tapped the back of Altaïr’s hand but didn’t look at him. Altaïr went on his knees and tapped Desmond’s palm.
They both stood as Desmond said, “So Rashid has ordered our deaths then.”
“No!” Malik glared at Abbas briefly before he said, “We’re here to take Altaïr back to Masyaf.”
Yeah, Desmond figured that was the case but…
“Oh? And is trying to assassinate me, what? Some kind of optional mission given to you two?” Desmond tilted his head as he added, “Or maybe Rashid only asked him.”
Malik turned to stare at Abbas and Abbas shook his head, “No! That’s not true, Malik! Our master didn’t order me to assassinate Desmond!”
“Then why did you try to kill me, huh?” Desmond pressed on, placing one hand on his waist while he rested his other hand on the hilt of his sword, “If Rashid didn’t order you to kill me then that means you decided to kill me yourself. Using the blade of our Brotherhood for your own personal agenda… how shameless.”
“I thought you were Altaïr!” Abbas shouted, making Desmond hummed.
“Really? That’s your excuse?” Desmond dryly asked before pointing at his face, “When has Altaïr ever wore this kind of shemagh, huh?”
“It’s not- I didn’t see- you two move the same!” Abbas tried to defend his screw up.
“Then you wanted to kill Altaïr?” Desmond pushed, ignoring the way Malik had stepped back and was now staring at both of them with a grimace on his face.
“He betrayed our master!” Abbas shouted, pointing at Altaïr, “As if that wasn’t enough, he betrayed our master so he could fornicate with you, his own brother!”
“Oh.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that had been on his waist and sighed before explaining, “We’re not brothers. We look similar to one another because we share the same ancestor.”
And they haven’t even fornicated yet. The most they’d done was make out before going to bed.
He felt Altaïr glance at him but he didn’t say anything, letting Desmond continue to take the lead on this.
“As for betraying Rashid, Altaïr requested to transfer to Alamut and our mentor accepted.” Desmond continued, “Our mentor does not need Rashid’s permission to transfer anyone to our Brotherhood.”
Desmond nodded at Altaïr and they both jumped on the stacks of boxes before jumping onto the rooftop. Altaïr stayed behind Desmond as they approached the two. Desmond crossed his arms as he stared at Abbas, “So you decide to try and kill Altaïr, hiding behind your loyalty to Rashid-”
“That’s not-”
“But you screwed up and attacked me instead, the next mentor and oldest son of the imam of Alamut.” Desmond cut him off, narrowing his eyes as he asked, “Don’t you think that’s too much of a mistake for us to simply wave it off?”
Malik stepped between the two, pushing Abbas to take a few step behind him as he bowed, “I apologize on behalf of my brother’s rash actions.”
Desmond leaned towards Malik as he asked calmly, “Do you really think apologizing for Abbas would do anything, Malik?”
“My apology might mean very little but I hope that the wound you have inflicted on Abbas would quell your rage.” Malik replied.
“You mean the knife I threw?” Desmond leaned back and raised his arms as he said lightly, “That’s just self-defense. I just ‘reacted’.”
Malik’s eyes narrowed.
Desmond knew it was a flimsy excuse and he also knew that Malik realized that.
But he wasn’t going to call Desmond out.
Not when Desmond held more sway in this conversation.
“Rash or not, his actions could have led to the death of the son of our imam.” Desmond reminded Malik, “Even if I wasn’t the intended target, his actions will reflect on both Masyaf and Rashid himself.”
“Altaïr…” Desmond didn’t look back as he asked, “If Abbas had killed me, what would you do?”
“I’ll kill him and return your body to Alamut. After that, I would have returned to Masyaf to kill Rashid then kill myself.” Altaïr answered calmly.
Desmond tried not to smack his face.
He did ask Altaïr to follow his lead and Altaïr did understand where he was going with this.
But to add in the whole ‘I’ll kill myself last’ was unnecessary.
From the way Abbas and Malik paled and their eyes widened, Desmond could say with certainty that Altaïr had gone overboard just to mess with them.
“You’re… serious.” Malik said in a disbelieving tone.
No.
He was not serious. He was playing the part well though.
“You’ve lost your mind!” Abbas exclaimed.
“My mind has never been clearer.” Altaïr answered, placing a hand on his chest, “A world without Desmond is a world not worth living at all.”
Okay, he needed to turn it down a notch.
Jesus Christ on a pogo stick.
Desmond was sure his shemagh couldn’t cover all of the redness that invaded his face.
For some reason, Desmond hoped this kind of dramatic proclamation was influenced by the fact that Altaïr finished proof-reading the damn book before they left for this mission.
Altaïr stared at him with a solemn expression but Desmond noticed the amusement in his eyes.
This bastard was doing it to fluster Desmond.
Desmond felt so betrayed right now.
But he would deal with Altaïr later.
“As you can see, your actions could very well lead to a war between Alamut and Masyaf.” Desmond tried to return the conversation to the ‘important’ part and not… whatever mess Altaïr wanted to make.
Abbas opened his mouth but didn’t say anything when Malik glared at him, a silent warning to shut up.
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile.
How frustrating it must be for Abbas to be talked about yet be unable to defend himself.
Let him suffer.
“You are talking about a future that thankfully did not come to pass.” Malik argued calmly, “But we understand. We, too, do not wish for our Brotherhoods to raise their blades against one another.”
Malik gave Abbas another glare as he asked, “How may we be able to make up for this blunder and earn your forgiveness?”
He took the bait.
Thank god. Desmond didn’t have a backup plan other than knocking the two of them out if they didn’t play ball.
Abbas looked ready to strangle Malik but remained quiet.
“First: Abbas Sofian is to return to the bureau and get his wound taken care of. Afterwards, he is to remain in the bureau until further notice.” Desmond ordered as he stared at Abbas with disinterested eyes. He turned to face Malik as he continued, “Second: Malik Al-Sayf will accompany us on our mission and do everything I order until our mission is complete. After our mission is complete, we will leave Tyre.”
Desmond glared at Abbas as he added, “No one will follow us. Only then will you report to Rashid that you failed to capture Altaïr because you fucked up and tried to kill me.”
Abbas opened his mouth but Desmond continued, “Of course, I will be sending my own letter to Rashid about this incident. After all, Abbas is an Assassin of Masyaf.”
“It’s only right that the ‘master’ of Masyaf decides his fate.”
Chapter Text
Altaïr was insane to fall in love with someone like Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.
It was clear that Desmond had used Abbas’ mistake to ensure that they would push aside the mission given to them by their master. He saw Abbas’ weakness…
No.
He knew of it and used it to his advantage.
Even with the shemagh covering his face, Malik saw the calculative gleam in his eyes and heard the order in his voice.
They were never meant to win that argument with him no matter what reasoning or excuses they made.
Desmond trapped them the moment Abbas jumped off the rooftop.
“You do know how dangerous he is, don’t you?”
Altaïr only glanced at him before he continued to look over the stacks of paper all over the desk.
Malik wanted to glare at him but he kept an eye on the door while Desmond…
Desmond split from them once they infiltrated the hospital, ordering them to check the office while he checked the hospital.
To be more exact, Desmond asked Altaïr in that gentle tone that actually made Malik do a double-take, wondering if he had problem hearing things right now.
But no.
Desmond’s tone did grow softer while he was talking to Altaïr.
And the touching.
It wasn’t indecent, no, not at all, but Malik couldn’t help but look away when he saw Desmond touch Altaïr’s cheek while telling him to be careful.
There was something about the way Desmond touched Altaïr, the way Altaïr leaned closer, their faces just inches away from one another…
Malik felt both annoyed at being forced to see all of this and embarrassed that he was seeing all of this.
Then he noticed that Altaïr had listened to Desmond’s ‘plea’ while they looked for the office.
He couldn’t even feel any vindication when Desmond told Altaïr to “Remember that you and Malik are working together, okay? Don’t try to do everything by yourself.” even though Desmond was telling Altaïr things that Malik had been telling Altaïr for years.
And Altaïr was trying.
He even asked Malik where he thought the office would be in this hospital.
The Altaïr that Malik had gone on missions with would have simply barreled through and looked for the office without caring to ask what Malik thought.
Desmond managed to get Altaïr to do something Malik had been trying for years to make him do with a few simple words.
Desmond was truly dangerous.
“Read these and memorize them.” Altaïr handed him a few pieces of paper before returning to the desk. He took out a journal hidden between his belt and his sash and began to write while Malik sighed.
It was useless to get annoyed by Altaïr’s actions. Just because the man was trying didn’t mean that his bad habits of ordering people around to do it his way would magically disappear. He was going to do what he wanted as always and Malik would simply be wasting his time trying to stand his ground.
It just so happened that what Altaïr wanted was to ‘try’ and do what Desmond requested of him.
It was absolutely annoying but Malik wasn’t going to complain about it.
So he read what was given to him…
… and frowned.
Some of the papers were correspondences between Roland Napule, the head of the hospital that they were currently infiltrating, and someone he called Lord Basilisk.
Malik had only heard about the Basilisk. He was currently the de facto leader of the Templar Knights since the Templars have yet to appoint a new Grand Master.
These letters were all talking about a chalice.
No. Based on how they described the chalice, Malik realized that it was a code. They were talking about Desmond, using the word ‘chalice’ instead of his name.
The Basilisk wanted Roland Napule to make the preparations needed so they may experiment on Desmond once they capture him to find his relation to something they only call a ‘treasure’.
Another code for an important object, perhaps?
Maybe even another person considering they call Desmond a ‘chalice’.
There was also a letter between Roland Napule and Garnier de Naplouse who was stationed in Acre. Naplouse had written a ‘recipe’ for Napule and it took Malik a minute to realize that said ‘recipe’ was for some kind of drug that would make anyone be… easier to manipulate.
They were planning to drug Desmond.
“Altaïr…”
“He’ll be fine.” Altaïr said, already knowing what has worried Malik, “Desmond knows he’s being targeted.”
Altaïr raised his head to stare at Malik as he asked, “Did you really think that Desmond’s not with us because he wants to walk around the hospital?”
Malik’s eyes widened as he realized, “He’s here to assassinate Napule.”
Altaïr nodded before he continued to write.
Malik’s brows furrowed but he returned his attention to the letters in his hands.
A lot of them were reports on the information extracted from those Napule tortured. They were focused on any information about the activities of the Brotherhood and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s forces.
Only one of these reports talked about the chalice and it contained information from a merchant that would sometimes visit Alamut. There wasn’t anything concerning or anything that may bring danger to Desmond in the report. The most they found out was that Desmond would hunt at times and give the meat to the villagers.
Maybe… they were planning to set a trap for when he would go hunting?
… But that would only work if they could even get pass the patrols of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s forces from here to Alamut.
Three letters were from someone by the name of Robert de Sablé, ordering Napule to stop assisting this Lord Basilisk and telling him to support him in his bid in becoming the next Grand Master.
The way they ended their letters had been noticeable.
‘May the Father of Understanding guide us.’
Was it some kind of code?
Or was this normal for Templar Knights?
“Are you done?” Altaïr asked.
“Yes.” Malik replied with a nod.
Malik was about to ask him if he could shed some light about this so-called ‘treasure’ and why Desmond was being called a ‘chalice’ but Altaïr handed him the journal he had been writing on as he said, “Make sure they’re the same.”
Altaïr took the letters off Malik’s hands while Malik took the journal, reading over what Altaïr had written.
He wrote each piece of paper he had given Malik.
As far as Malik could remember, the contents were exactly the same.
Malik wasn’t surprised by that.
Everyone knew that Altaïr could recreate any documents he saw. There was a limit to how long before he would start to forget the content and Altaïr refused to answer what that limit was but Malik knew for a fact that it was longer than a week.
Malik knew it was another one of Al Mualim’s specialized training that was exclusively for Altaïr only and it had always awed Kadar whenever Altaïr used this skill in front of him.
Malik didn’t necessarily enjoy seeing it.
It was a great boon, that was for sure.
But…
It made Malik remember the countless times he saw Altaïr in the library, reading and writing while surrounded by stacks of books that threatened to swallow him while Malik and the other boys played.
He never approached Altaïr though.
He thought back then that Altaïr simply preferred the company of books.
There was nothing he could do about it now.
All he could do right now was support Altaïr in this mission of his and find the time to ask Altaïr if he has truly left Masyaf for something as weak as love.
Malik nodded at Altaïr as he handed the journal back to him just as Altaïr finished placing all the papers he took in the small bag he had.
“We’ll meet up with Desmond.”
“You know where he is?” Malik asked curiously.
Instead of answering, Altaïr opened the window and whistled. An eagle flew towards them and landed on the window sill. Altaïr unrolled one of the large piece of paper that was apparently a map of the place, probably an official map created after this hospital was made and stored in this office to be forgotten, on the floor. The eagle flew off the window sill and landed on the floor near the map.
The eagle tapped its talon in a room that was marked ‘dungeon’.
“Guards?”
The eagle began to tap-
Malik thought it was random.
It should be random.
But no.
The way he was tapping…
Malik couldn’t believe he was thinking this but he was pretty sure the number of taps correspond to how many guards were in that specific room or hallway.
“Altaïr.” Malik stared as Altaïr took out a piece of dry meat and gave it to the eagle who ate it quite smugly, “That… bird…”
“This is Aquila.” Altaïr introduced calmly and the eagle let out a cry as it raised its right wing and waved it once in Malik’s direction, “He’s Desmond’s son.”
What.
Altaïr looked thoughtful at the moment as he stared at the bird. The eagle tilted its head, reminding Malik of Altaïr’s habit of tilting his head sometimes.
It was eerie.
Altaïr nodded at the bird before turning to face Malik. His expression was calm but serious as he added, “And, since I am Desmond’s consort, he is also my son.”
What.
Desmond was not having a good time.
The hospital reminded him too much of the Hospitalier Fortress in Acre. His Bleed from Altaïr might not be as vivid as it was before but there were too many similarities that Desmond would sometimes see a flash of something that shouldn’t be there.
A flash of what had been in the fortress in Acre superimposed on what he was seeing now.
For a brief moment, Desmond feared that he would start to see the telltale signs of the Animus glitching.
That everything here wasn’t truly here in the first place.
That he was in some kind of fantasy world created by the Animus…
That maybe when he touched the device, it didn’t transfer him into the past but had hurt him so much that he was placed in the Animus once more…
That he was in a coma and nothing was real.
Then he touched his shemagh, felt its softness against his callused fingers.
This was real.
This was his world.
His present.
If he did see some kind of glitching, it would be his mind becoming too focused on the similarity between this hospital and the one in Acre.
The similarities could be considered a coincidence had he not known what Garnier de Naplouse had been experimenting on.
The recreation of the Apple’s ability to control the minds of other people, using some kind of drug or a form of torture to break the mind and make it more malleable.
It was sickening.
What he saw here was something similar.
A ‘lite’ version, he supposed.
And Napule kept all of these similarities in the dungeons that could only be open by pushing the coffins in the crypt underneath the hospital to reveal a lift.
Desmond was too late to save any of them.
… except for one.
“Ask him again. He must know where the key is!” Napule ordered and, for a brief moment, Desmond saw Garnier de Naplouse instead of him.
It was only a flash and Napule’s wizened face became clear once more.
They had yet to notice him as the knight between Napule and the poor battered man sitting on the chair stepped towards the man slowly leaning to his right side.
“Yes, my lord!” The knight said as he took another step, picking up a bloody knife on the table next to them.
Desmond quickly slit the throat of the knight behind Napule with a throwing knife before throwing it at the knight approaching the man. The throwing knife hit the small gap on his neck between his helmet and armor and he stumbled forward, letting out a gasp before falling to the floor.
“Wha-”
Desmond pushed the knight he was still holding and Napule let out a yelp as he fell on the bloody floor, the knight’s limp form and armor pinning him.
“Where’s the Basilisk?” Desmond asked as he walked towards Napule.
“You!” Napule’s eyes widened.
Desmond crouched and wrapped his left hand over Napule’s neck. He didn’t squeeze him but he repeated, “Where’s the Basilisk?”
“Who ordered you to come here? That old man?!” Napule shouted, “Has he ordered the death of Lord Basilisk?”
Desmond squeezed his neck just enough to make the old man gasp before relaxing his grip once more.
“Where’s. The. Basilisk.” Desmond repeated, “If his location is not the next word that leaves your lips, I will break your neck.”
“The Hold! He’s in the Hold!” Napule shouted in panic and Desmond nodded.
“Thank you.” Desmond said before flicking his left hand.
Napule gasped as he felt Desmond’s hidden blade pierce his neck, his wide eyes left open as the life left them.
Did he feel betrayed by Desmond's action? He shouldn't.
Desmond said he would break his neck if he didn't talk. He never said anything about sparing him even if he did talk.
“Requiescat in Pace.” Desmond whispered as he let go of Napule’s neck. He took out a white feather and lightly grazed the feather against the wound, drenching it in Napule’s blood, before returning the feather inside his pouch.
He stood and walked towards the man they had been torturing. He knelt in front of the man and raised his hand but stopped before he could touch him.
His body was bruised and bloody, a myriad of nauseating colors that painted a grim fate that Desmond would not be able to heal even if he had stopped such cruelty ten minutes earlier.
Not even the medical advancements of the 21st century would be able to save this man.
He lowered his hand, knowing that no matter where he tapped the man, it would hurt him. Instead he softly said, “They’re dead now. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
The man who could have been around Faheem’s age opened one eye, his other eye remaining close due to the swelling. He seemed dazed as he mumbled, “Father?”
Desmond’s expression softened as he said gently, “I’m afraid I’m not your father. If you tell me his name and where he is, I can give him your message.”
The man stared at him for a moment before he sighed, “Desmond Miles.”
Desmond’s hand immediately went towards the hilt of his sword.
The man let out a raspy chuckle before groaning in pain as the very act of laughing only served to worsen his condition.
Broken ribs, most likely.
Desmond stood and took a step back as he asked calmly, “Why do you know that name?”
“She’s supposed to leave the sword in the Temple of Sands.” The man said, raising his head slowly to look at Desmond, “But she didn’t. She destroyed the Calculations…”
“… for the child that was never hers to begin with.” The man’s lips curved into a smile that was void of any emotion, “Desmond Miles.”
The smile only lasted a fraction of a second and Desmond guessed it was because of the bruises littering his face. It must hurt to even talk right now.
“Who are you?” Desmond asked warily, “Are you… one of them?”
“No.” The man tried to shake his head but groaned once more. He lowered his head and took a few deep breaths before raising his head once more, “They call me a ‘Sage’. They think I know where the key to unlocking what lies under Jerusalem is.”
There was a key?
Desmond didn’t remember the Templars used any key to get to the Apple.
“There is no key.” The man said as if he heard Desmond’s thoughts. He let out a sigh before continuing, “If they want to get inside, they’ll have to make their own path.”
“I hold no secrets they wish to have.” The man tried to smile but stopped to wince as even moving the muscles of his face must have hurt him, “I have the memories of an Isu like Minerva. The memories of Aita… Juno’s husband.”
Desmond’s grip on the hilt of his sword tighten and the man’s lips twitched, most probably he was about to smile once more but stopped himself, “Once I die, another Sage will start to dream Aita’s memories.”
He slowly lifted his hand to point at himself, “Kill us if you find us, Desmond Miles.”
“Why?”
Desmond had heard of Juno’s husband in passing. He knew that Juno performed a forbidden procedure to save her husband and that was the crime she committed that ended with her trapped in the Grand Temple.
“Because not all of us would be like me, able to stay as myself. Most of us will be devoured by his memories and turn into him.”
“No. I mean… why do you know me?” Desmond asked with a frown, “Did Aita know me?”
“He did. And…” The man’s eye clouded over and he remained still for a moment before he coughed hard enough that his entire body shook. He fell from the chair and Desmond rushed to catch him. The man groaned as Desmond’s touch caused more pain to travel all around him yet he didn’t push Desmond away.
The man continued to cough as he stayed in Desmond’s arms. He looked at Desmond as he asked, “Would you do me a favor, Desmond Miles?”
“Depends on the favor.” Desmond said quietly. The man tried to chuckle but only ended up coughing once more. He turned his head to not choke on the blood escaping his lips.
Once he stopped coughing, he turned to face Desmond once more. There was a wheezing sound that accompanied every breath he took, making Desmond’s brows furrowed. His lips curved into a small smile belying his pain as he said, “When you meet Juno, tell her her choice of men was horrible.”
Desmond couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. The light in the man’s eye began to dim as Desmond whispered, “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll tell her that her taste of men sucks.”
“Thank you…” The man’s eye closed and he began to mumble, “Father… I hope… this…”
The man’s next words slurred together and all Desmond got was the word ‘happy’ before the man died in his arms. He closed the man’s eye and placed him gently on the floor.
“Requiescat in Pace.” Desmond whispered just as he heard a familiar set of footsteps behind him.
He stood and looked at his now bloody robes.
The blood of a man he didn’t even know the name of.
He turned to face the two and said, “Let’s go the bureau first. I need a change of clothes.”
Malik looked like he wanted to say something, most probably ask what had happened, as he looked around the room. Altaïr stopped him from opening his mouth by saying, “Understood. We’ll use the rooftops to get there without alerting the people of Tyre.”
Being a Rafiq was a hard job. Being a Rafiq in a place under crusader rule could be counted as suicidal.
Still, Hamid would never quit his post. He knew how important it was for the Brotherhood to receive information of what was happening to Tyre right now, especially since the current Grand Master of the Templar Knights had made the Templar hold here his unofficial base.
… although, if the rumors were to be believed, Lord Basilisk’s position was being threatened by another.
He had hoped that Abbas and Malik’s appearance had been good fortune. That their master had read his report of the current tense atmosphere surrounding Tyre and had sent the two to gather more information or perhaps even assassinate the Basilisk.
Instead, he learned that the two had been chasing after Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad who allegedly entered Tyre just a few hours before they arrived.
He had heard the rumors.
Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad had transferred to Alamut without the master’s approval to be with Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.
That they shared a forbidden relationship.
Hamid thought the two were brothers. Apparently not.
Or maybe it didn’t matter to them.
According to the rant that Abbas had been giving him once he returned, Desmond had confirmed it himself that they weren’t directly related, sharing only an ancestor.
What a coincidence that they looked so similar then.
Perhaps they looked very similar to this supposed shared ancestor of theirs.
Hamid was truly confused to what Abbas wanted him to write to the message to be sent to Masyaf. A lot of the things he was saying were insults to Altaïr. Some of them seemed to both be insults and begrudging admiration (Awe? Affection? Probably not affection) to Desmond. Malik had been called a fool more than once because of how ‘easily’ he had agreed to Desmond’s demands.
And it was during Abbas’ rant that they were visited by the person in question.
“Have you been bitching about me since you got here?”
Hamid blinked, recognizing the red shemagh, “Vega?”
“Safety and peace, Hamid. How’s your wife’s cough?” Vega- no, Desmond asked in the same kind tone he had when he listened to Hamid’s story of how his wife had a persisted cough ever since they moved to their new house.
“She got better once I pulled out all the flowers planted in the front of our home. It’s as you guessed, Desmond, my wife was… what was the word you used? Ah, yes, allergic. She was allergic to the flowers.”
So Vega was actually Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III. Hamid couldn’t even find the desire to feel betrayed. The illusive but highly skilled Vega being Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III?
It wasn’t really surprising.
“It’s the pollens but sure, yeah.” Desmond said lightly before nodding at Abbas, “So, has he been complaining about me the entire time?”
“He just woke up actually.” Hamid answered, ignoring the way Abbas was glaring at Altaïr while Altaïr ignored him completely, “I had him drink a bottle so he would sleep while I clean and sew his wound.”
He shook his head in displeasure as he added, “The boy took out your knife when he should have kept it in and pressed his hand on his wound instead. I had to clean his wound to make sure it does not become infected.”
He turned to look at Abbas as he continued, “Letting him sleep was faster than getting some help in keeping him down.”
“Rafiq!” Abbas spluttered, most probably surprised that he would tell Desmond such… weakness. In Hamid’s eyes, the best way to make people remember what they should and shouldn’t do was to talk about it.
To a lot of people.
“I’m afraid I will have to tell Al Mualim that you wounded Abbas.” He added as he turned to face Desmond once more.
“Just include in your report that he tried to kill me because he thought I was Altaïr.” Desmond said lightly as he took out a feather and placed it on the counter, “Roland Napule is no longer with us.”
“Ah, I see. I shall make a record of that. Shall I record this as a mission of Alamut?” Hamid asked as he took out a thick book from under the counter and opened it.
“Yes, thank you.” Desmond patted his robes as he added, “May I also borrow an extra robe if you have any? It doesn’t have to be one for a Master Assassin.”
“Of course.” Hamid pointed at the door behind him as he said, “Just find one of the novices and he’ll get you a fresh set of robes and we’ll even wash that for you.”
“Thank you.” Desmond turned to face Altaïr and Malik as he said, “You guys wait here. I’ll change my robes then we’ll continue our mission.”
Altaïr and Malik nodded and Desmond grinned as he added, “Don’t kill Abbas while I’m gone.”
“I will do my best.” Altaïr said solemnly, making everyone but Desmond turn to stare at him. Desmond only laughed and waved at him as he opened the door.
Once he closed the door behind him, an awkward silence enveloped the room.
Hamid cleared his throat before asking, “So… Altaïr… did you really transfer to Alamut without telling our master?”
“Yes.” Altaïr nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I wish to be with Desmond.”
Ah.
The awkwardness of the room only deepened.
Hamid hoped Desmond would come back soon.
Notes:
Hamid isn't an OC. He is the Rafiq of Tyre according to Altaïr Chronicles XD
Chapter 74
Notes:
Sorry for the late update. Our net was so slow (like 999 ms slow) and it just started getting back right now. I might be unable to do final checks for this one so if you see any glaring mispelling or grammatical error, let me know XD
Not beta'ed because of RL
Chapter Text
Desmond returned to the Rafiq’s office wearing a set of Master Assassin robes with his shemagh down and the promise of a novice that he would have his actual robes washed and dried later tonight.
The sun was bearing down on them and it was barely midday so Desmond believed it. Not that it mattered. Those robes weren’t anything special and Desmond wouldn’t mind leaving without them.
Although he was a bit hesitant because the novice looked like he was looking forward to giving the freshly washed robes back to him later.
Desmond supposed he would have to consider it depending on how they would be leaving the bureau right now.
And it was looking… quite awkward now that he had returned to the Rafiq’s main office.
Abbas and Altaïr were having a silent staring competition in the middle of the room.
Malik was in the corner behind Altaïr, crouching as he covered his face with his hands.
Hamid was still on the other side of the counter, staring at Altaïr and Abbas with a practiced smile.
Oh boy.
Desmond knew he didn’t need to clear his throat. He made sure they all heard the door creak open. Which meant that Altaïr and Abbas were continuing their staring contest and Malik was ignoring him for a reason.
He could guess that reason that was as he walked towards Hamid. He smiled at Hamid and waited until the Rafiq turned to face him before he said, “I left my robes with Omid. I told him it doesn’t have to be ready by tonight but he insisted. Could I ask you to make sure he won’t push himself too much?”
“I’ll tell the other novices to keep an eye on him. He might mistake my worry for a lack of trust on my part if I was to talk to him personally.” Hamid said with a more genuine smile.
“Thank you, my friend.” Desmond nodded before turning to face the two staring at each other. He sighed and crossed his arms, resting his back against the counter as he said lightly, “Altaïr, unless there’s any reason why you would want to waste your time staring into Abbas’ eyes, we should get going.”
Altaïr finally looked away from Abbas to turn his attention to Desmond. He opened his mouth but Abbas cut him off, “Oh, running to your new master now, Altaïr? How pathetic.”
Altaïr glared at Abbas as a low warning growl escaped his lips.
Desmond sighed once more, taking out a small strip of paper from one of his pouches as he said, “So what insult did you use to describe me, Abbas?”
Desmond gave the paper to Hamid who read it. It was written in the Rafiq’s code that Desmond learned during his time in Lambsar Castle. Hamid nodded at him and began to roll it as Desmond continued, “Let’s see… oh.”
Desmond began to walk towards them as Malik lowered his hands to stare at him with wide eyes. Desmond stopped just next to Abbas and placed his right hand on his shoulder, “Did you call me a whore?”
He let his fingers trace Abbas’ shoulder blades as he moved his left hand to his other shoulder while taking a few steps to stand between him and Altaïr. Desmond stared at Abbas as he whispered, “Did you ask him if I tempted him by opening my legs? Or perhaps you asked how talented my mouth is?”
He could feel Altaïr seething behind him but Desmond knew he wouldn’t move. Altaïr would know that Desmond had a plan.
And that was…
“Arrrgh!” Abbas cried out in pain as Desmond dug his thumb over the wound on his shoulder. Abbas tried to pull away but he couldn’t shake off Desmond’s grip. Desmond continued to apply pressure even as he felt the blood wetting Abbas’ robes and Desmond’s hand. Desmond grabbed Abbas’ neck with his left hand and squeezed it lightly as a warning.
Abbas froze, his breathing turning erratic as he realized the dangerous situation he was in. Every Assassin was taught to not make any rash movements whenever another Assassin was holding their neck with their left hand.
Just a simple mistake and they risk activating the Hidden Blade too close to their neck themselves.
“Was I right?” Desmond asked with a sweet smile.
Abbas remained quiet but Desmond expected that.
“Was I right, Malik?” Desmond asked instead.
Abbas’ eyes moved to stare at Malik who was standing in the corner. Malik rubbed the bridge of his nose as he answered with a tired sigh, “Yes. He did say such things.”
Abbas glared at Malik and Malik simply returned it with a glare of his own. Desmond could see what he was trying to convey with his expression.
Abbas was being stupid if he believed that Malik lying would do them any favors. Altaïr was right there and he would contradict Malik had he lied.
And Desmond would have believed Altaïr over the two of them.
Malik knew it was a trap.
If Malik was foolish enough to lie, it would only place Desmond’s ire on Masyaf, instead of Abbas alone, as two Assassins were conspiring against his supposed consort and hiding the fact that he had been insulted.
… not that Desmond would ever get angry at Malik but Malik had no way of knowing that.
“It seems that you don’t understand how much you fucked up, Abbas.” Desmond said as he continued to smile, waiting until Abbas’ attention was back on him before he continued, “You’re not insulting the ‘whore’ Altaïr betrayed Masyaf for.”
“You’re insulting the son of the imam.” Desmond reminded him. Abbas took a deep breath and gritted his teeth to stop the sound that tried to escape his lips as Desmond dug his thumb deeper into his wound. The pain blinded him for a brief moment and Desmond used that to his advantage, forcing Abbas to go on his knees.
“I could cut off your tongue and Hamid, as the Rafiq, would report to Rashid what I had done and would agree that it is within my rights to punish you.” Desmond said in a sickening sweet tone as Abbas’ skin paled and cold sweat dripped from his forehead. Desmond tilted his head slightly and widened his smile a bit as he added, “I might even get away with killing you right here, right now.”
Desmond leaned close as he asked, “What’s Rashid going to do? Request my death in exchange for yours?”
“He would be stupid to believe the imam would agree to that.” Desmond said as he loomed over Abbas, “How about… Requesting for Altaïr’s death in exchange for yours? Do you think Rashid would be stupid enough to request that?”
“I won’t allow it.” Desmond said coldly as he dropped his smile, “And Rashid will not be able to do anything about it.”
“Your death means nothing to Rashid. Rashid would not risk a war between us because of your foolish actions.” Desmond proclaimed coldly as he finally let go of Abbas’ bleeding shoulder, “Do you know why I’m not killing you even after you’ve insulted me enough times that no one would stop me from ending your life?”
Abbas remained quiet for a moment then gasped when Desmond squeezed his neck.
“Why?” Abbas asked hoarsely. Desmond relaxed his grip slightly, watching as Abbas coughed once before freezing when his head jostled a bit.
“Because Altaïr doesn’t wish for your death.” Desmond let go of Abbas’ neck and pushed him away, letting him fall on the floor as he gasped for breath. Desmond took out one of the small pieces of fabric he used to clean his blades and wiped Abbas’ blood from his right hand before dropping it by Abbas’ feet.
“You’re only alive because of Altaïr’s mercy.” Desmond said coldly. He waited until Abbas turned to look back at him and smiled sweetly once more. His tone was light as he warned, “So, you see, Abbas, you shouldn’t provoke the only person keeping you alive.”
Desmond turned around and his expression softened when he saw the emotionless face Altaïr was making. He placed his left hand on Altaïr’s cheek and leaned close as he whispered, “You okay?”
Altaïr covered his hand with his and pressed it against his cheek as he rested his forehead against Desmond. Altaïr closed his eyes as he whispered, “Let’s go.”
“Okay.” Desmond whispered back and they both stepped away from one another. Desmond let Altaïr pull his hand away from his cheek as he continued to hold it.
Desmond turned to face Malik and pulled his shemagh up as he said, “Follow us, Malik.”
Malik bowed silently and waited for the two of them to leave the room before following them.
“Malik…”
“Stay here and rest, Abbas.” Malik said with a grim expression on his face, “Hide yourself in one of the rooms until they are gone.”
Abbas stared at Malik’s back with wide eyes. Once they were gone, Hamid sighed and walked around the counter to get to Abbas.
“He’s right, you know?” Hamid said as he knelt next to Abbas, looking over his bloody shoulder as he explained, “The most Al Mualim can do is send a complaint if Desmond was to kill you.”
“Just because he’s the son of the imam?!” Abbas shouted as he glared at the Rafiq, “He dares bare his fangs at our master?!”
“No. That would only be the excuse Al Mualim can give to explain it to our brothers.” Hamid sighed once more as he helped Abbas take off his robes, “He’s the next mentor of Alamut and Al Mualim answers to Alamut.”
“What?”
“We need to redo the stitches. Go wash up while I prepare what we’ll need for that wound of yours.” Hamid stood and walked back to the counter.
Abba stood as well as he shouted, “What do you mean Al Mualim answers to Alamut?”
“Wash the blood off first, Abbas. I will explain it while I stitch you up once more.”
“I’m sorry.”
Altaïr turned to stare at him as they stood a roof away from the bureau, “For what?”
“I took over your fight with Abbas without asking you first.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, “I know you can take care of it yourself, I do. It’s just…”
“Why did you?” Altaïr asked as he tilted his head.
Desmond was quiet for a moment, looking at the sky where Aquila and Maud were flying around them. Desmond sighed and turned to look at Altaïr as he admitted, “I just… I got angry.”
Desmond placed both of his hands behind him as he continued, “Abbas was talking shit and I’m sure you said some things to him too but there were two other people in the room back then. One of them was even a Rafiq. But… neither of them tried to stop Abbas or defended you.”
“Desmond…”
“How fucked up is that?” Desmond asked, unable to hide the frustration in his voice. He grabbed Altaïr’s hands as he said, “They just watched while Abbas insulted you and I…”
“I couldn’t stand it.” Desmond admitted as he lowered his head, “I… I just…”
“Desmond. Look at me.”
Desmond raised his head to look at Altaïr and gasped when he felt Altaïr’s lips against his, his shemagh acting as an unnecessary barrier between them.
Even with the shemagh between them, Desmond’s eyes still closed as he leaned to the kiss.
They parted only after they heard Malik clear his throat. They turned to face him and Malik’s glare was half-annoyed and half-disappointed.
“Oh, they have the same glare.” Desmond said.
Altaïr blinked and, for a brief moment, Malik’s face was replaced by Faheem’s.
Altaïr snorted before resting his forehead against Desmond’s shoulder as he laughed.
Desmond grinned and ignored Malik’s surprised expression.
He knew why though.
This must have been the first time Malik had ever seen Altaïr laugh.
Desmond was not looking forward to infiltrating the Templar stronghold here in Tyre. It was dangerous for so many reasons, one of which was the possibility they would be seen while they were already deep inside.
They might have to fight their way out and that wasn’t the worst of it.
If word got out that Desmond was the one leading the team that had to run away from the Templars, it wouldn’t look good.
Those who were against him being the next mentor were quiet at the moment thanks to Altaïr’s show of skills and Adha’s undeniable potential. They would be waiting for a reason to complain about him and a failed infiltration would be good ammunition.
It wasn’t like he doubted their capabilities. It was just…
They had no information of where in the stronghold the Basilisk was and it would be faster if they were to split up but that would also be more dangerous.
So they asked Aquila and Maud to scout ahead first.
“Remember how she looks like. How she makes you feel.” Desmond softly instructed as he sat in front of Altaïr who had his eyes closed.
Malik was keeping watch while they hid inside the second floor of an abandoned building near the stronghold. Apparently, the owner of the building was arrested a week ago so it was still empty.
They were as safe as they could be.
Altaïr’s brows were furrowed and Desmond knew that he was having a hard time connecting with Maud.
“It’s okay, Altaïr. Focus on your breathing first.” Desmond instructed, resisting the urge to place a hand on top of one of his clenched fists.
That would only serve to distract Altaïr.
Instead, Desmond started to do the breathing exercise Raiza would have him do when he first started to connect with Aquila. He didn’t have to exaggerate the sounds he made, knowing Altaïr could hear him just fine.
It took only one set of the breathing exercise for their breathing to be in sync. They continued to breathing at the same time and Desmond knew Malik had a lot of questions about what they were doing but Desmond just ignored him, knowing he would keep quiet as long as Desmond or Altaïr didn’t acknowledge him.
Once he was sure that Altaïr was relaxed and no longer feeling frustrated over not being able to connect with Maud, Desmond began once more, “Think of Maud. What does she look like?”
He waited for a few seconds before he continued, “Picture Maud flying above Tyre.”
He could see the moment Altaïr managed to connect with Maud. His body grew lax and his breathing deepened.
But his eyes began to move rapidly behind his eyelids.
Then Altaïr’s breath hitched and he opened his eyes. He tried to regain his breathing as he clenched his fists once more.
“It’s a good first try, Altaïr.” Desmond said softly as he placed a hand over Altaïr’s clenched fists, “Just remember how that feel. It gets easier connecting with them after that.”
“Desmond…” Altaïr stared at Desmond as he said solemnly, “There’s a clear route that will take us to an office.”
“A trap?” Malik asked although Desmond could see that he wanted to ask why Altaïr would know that.
“Or an invitation.” Desmond said before grinning, “Or maybe both?”
As Maud and Aquila had seen, there was a clear ‘route’ for them to take.
No patrols.
No traps.
Nothing.
It was strange but Desmond decided it was worth the risk.
Worst-case scenario, it would be a trap so they just have to prepare for that possibility.
Because of this, they decided that Altaïr would be on standby with Aquila and Maud.
If it was a trap, Desmond would alert Altaïr using his connection with Aquila and Altaïr had full permission to use all the experimental bombs they brought with them.
“I’m surprised you decided to bring me with you.” Malik said once they were walking the hallway that would lead to the office that this route’s ‘goal’, if one could describe it as such.
“I might need backup.” Desmond said lightly.
“The fact that you trust me not to betray you for insulting Al Mualim is strange.” Malik noted.
“The fact that you just told me that you might betray me makes me think you don’t plan to.” Desmond teased.
“Is it my father?” Malik asked as he stared at Desmond, “Do you trust me because of my father?”
Desmond glanced at him before answering, “I know you’re a good man, Malik Al-Sayf. You’d do the right thing when the time comes.”
“I will not betray my master.”
Desmond didn’t answer him, opening the door to the office instead.
Inside were two Templars that Desmond was more familiar with than the man they were looking for.
“Robert de Sablé.” Desmond greeted as he walked inside, Malik trailing behind him cautiously, “Did you take care of the Basilisk?”
“I’m afraid that it would complicate things if I do such a thing.” Robert de Sablé answered as he stood by the window with his hands behind his back. The other Templar stood in one of the corners of the room, hand on the hilt of the sword strapped on their waist.
They were as tall as Robert and stood the same way as he did.
It could only be one person.
Maria Thorpe.
Of course, he was not supposed to know who she was so he nodded at her silently instead before returning his focus on Robert who greeted back, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Desmond of Alamut. I am honored you know of me.”
“Of course. You are going to be the next Grand Master of the Templar Order, after all.” Desmond said politely, smiling at Robert even though he knew he could not see Desmond’s face.
“As expected from you Assassins.” Robert said lightly, “Should I be worried that your informants have sunk their claws so deep in our Order already?”
“It would be foolish of me to answer that question.” Desmond replied in the same light tone.
Robert chuckled but Desmond didn’t join him, staying at the center of the room and watching his every move. Robert walked towards the desk and placed a hand on top of it as he said, “Lord Basilisk is in the docks. He plans to sail to Cyprus.”
Desmond took a deep breath and quickly connected to Aquila who was sitting on Altaïr’s shoulder two rooftops away from the stronghold. He controlled Aquila to tap twice on Altaïr’s shoulder and fly off towards the direction of the docks before closing the connection.
Aquila would know what to do and they already talked about this possibility.
Altaïr would not let the Basilisk leave the docks.
“Then I suppose we must hurry if we wish to kill him before he leaves.” Desmond said to Robert, tilting his head as he asked, “That is what you wish us to do, is it not?”
“It would be beneficial to you too, Desmond.” Robert placed both of his hands behind him once more as he said, “I will stop all and any orders to capture you once I am the Grand Master. But I can only become the Grand Master once he is dead.”
Desmond hummed.
“And… I can tell you a very important piece of information that can bring Masyaf back under Alamut control.” Robert added.
Desmond stared at him.
So that was his plan.
To tempt Desmond with information about Rashid’s betrayal.
Well…
Desmond supposed he could hear the man out.
For a bit.
Chapter 75
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Chapter Text
Malik froze but remained silent while Desmond stared at Robert for a moment before saying in an almost dismissive tone, “The only way for Masyaf to return to Alamut would be if Rashid is gone. Will the Templars take him out for us?”
It must have taken Malik all of his years of training to not react to those words.
They must appear a united front right now.
Desmond trusted Malik knew that.
Plus, he already knew that Robert…
“There is no need to dirty our hands with that old man’s blood.” Robert said as he shook his head before taking out a folded piece of paper from under his armor. He placed it on the desk and slid it further towards Desmond as he said, “All you need is this.”
Desmond walked towards the desk and placed his left hand on top of the paper. They stared at each as Robert took his hand off the paper. He watched as Desmond took the paper before taking a few steps back as he looked at the paper.
Recognizing the handwriting as Robert’s, Desmond skimmed through the letter.
It was a letter that talked about Rashid’s betrayal, sent to Haras.
It took a moment before Desmond remembered who Haras was. The Assassin turned Templar who took over Masyaf last year…
The one that led to Altaïr being given his Master Assassin title for saving both Masyaf and Rashid.
Oh.
Haras knew Rashid was a Templar when he attacked Masyaf. Rashid had already betrayed the Templars by then…
Haras was ordered to kill Rashid for his betrayal.
Did that mean that taking over Masyaf had not been part of that order? Or did Haras believe he would gain a higher standing in the Order by taking over Masyaf as well?
Desmond silently handed the letter to Malik who looked it over, his eyes narrowing as he read its content.
“What a strange letter.” Desmond lightly commented.
“Is it?” Robert asked in a similar light tone.
As if they were simply talking about the weather.
“Why is this letter in your possession and not with Haras when he died?” Desmond asked, giving Robert a cold smile even though he knew that Robert would not see it as he pressed, “Did you write that just to give to me?”
“I rewrote it. The one I sent to Haras should already be ashes by now.” Robert admitted, making Desmond sigh.
“Even if Rashid has betrayed the Brotherhood by siding with you before…” Desmond said as Malik folded the letter with a grim expression on his face, “We need proof and it mustn’t come from you.”
“Ah.” Robert nodded as he realized, “Because my word is already poisoned.”
“Because you have a reason to want us to fight Rashid.” Desmond clarified as he walked towards the desk once more. He opened his pouch, making Maria’s grip on her sword tighten. Desmond glanced at her but didn’t say anything, turning his attention on Robert as he ordered, “Stand aside, Robert de Sablé. And order your Order to not make any unnecessary moves against us. The Brotherhood will investigate and judge Rashid.”
“My Order.” Robert repeated and Desmond knew the future Grand Master realized that Desmond was privy to the real relationship between the Templar Order and the crusaders.
It didn’t matter if he did, he would not do anything about it.
He didn’t know that, by investigating Rashid and looking for any evidence that he was helping the Templar Order, the Brotherhood was also gathering evidence of the Templar Order’s betrayal of the crusaders.
Depending on the evidence they gathered, they might get enough to persuade King Richard to cut off the Templars himself.
They stared at one another silently and Desmond knew the man understood that he was silently challenging Robert to acknowledge the Order’s real stance in regards to both the Crusades and King Richard’s rule.
“Of course. I apologize if my actions has hurt your pride.” Robert bowed slightly just as Desmond took out a white feather from his pouch. He grabbed Robert’s wrist as he was straightening his back and Maria unsheathed her sword as she stepped forward. Malik unsheathed his own sword as well and stepped between Maria and Desmond.
Robert raised his other hand to stop Maria from moving while Desmond placed the feather in his palm.
“But do not mistake my actions today, Robert de Sablé. You have also used your power and authority to bring pain and suffering to the people of this land.” Desmond let go of Robert’s wrist as he said, “We will meet again.”
“Is this a threat, Desmond?” Robert asked with a small challenging smile.
“Of course not.” Desmond smiled, knowing Robert could see the laugh lines near his eyes even though the shemagh covered his face, as he announced, “This is a promise.”
Altaïr knew immediately when Desmond left Aquila. Aquila’s flying faltered for a fraction of a second before he continued to fly.
Altaïr whistled and Maud flew next to him as he followed Aquila’s shadows, realizing that he was taking Altaïr to the docks.
The Basilisk was going to sail out of Tyre.
Altaïr knew that this was the right call.
They risked the possibility of being unable to kill him before he leaves if Altaïr waited for Desmond and Malik to get out of the stronghold.
Still…
“Keep an eye on Desmond.” Altaïr asked Maud, making Maud let out a small cry before flying off to the direction of the stronghold.
While Desmond couldn’t connect with Maud, Altaïr was certain Maud used the same ‘actions’ as Aquila to report what she saw.
She would be able to help Desmond while Aquila assisted Altaïr.
They reached the docks without any problems, Aquila guiding him to a more winding path that kept them away from the patrols.
Once Altaïr had stepped onto a rooftop with enough cover thanks to the crates all over, Aquila let out a cry that reminded Altaïr of Maud’s “stay here” cry so he waited by the crates while Aquila flew over the docks.
Altaïr blinked and let the world turned grey.
There were a lot of reds all around the docks and many of them were patrolling the docks.
Too many, in fact.
However, there wasn’t any groups large enough to be considered as a private detail for someone as high ranking as one called the ‘Lord Basilisk’ which meant that he was trying to hide.
Did they already find Napule’s body?
Altaïr doubted it.
If they had, they would have already rang the bell in the hospital to alert everyone that something had gone wrong.
They left his cold corpse in the dungeons and people would probably avoid it until they realized that Napule has been gone far too long to be normal.
They still had time.
Aquila returned and landed on the roof in front of Altaïr. He tapped his talon on the roof twice as he pointed at Altaïr’s pouch with his right wing. Altaïr took out a map of Tyre that he and Desmond received before leaving Alamut and placed it between the two of them.
Aquila used his talon to tap somewhere north of the docks.
“Is he already on the ship?” Altaïr asked, making Aquila nod.
Then there was no time to lose.
Altaïr ran towards the location Aquila pointed at while Aquila flew up into the sky and went ahead of him.
North of the docks, three ships were docked. Same size, same sail, same everything.
It was suspicious how much they were pretending to be ‘normal’.
Altaïr looked around, observing the movements of every person nearby.
The patrol routes…
The ones carrying things into the ships…
What they were carrying…
How they were all acting…
Before Aquila landed on the sail of one of the ships, Altaïr already knew which ship the Basilisk was most probably in.
It was the boxes.
Most of the boxes were food and supplies.
But one of the ships were carrying less supplies than the rest.
A different destination.
The size and sail of the ships seemed to suggest merchant ships.
So lesser rations means a different route.
A smaller route.
Lord Basilisk wouldn’t leave these lands. Not when he was the acting leader of the Templar Knights.
So he was most probably sailing somewhere else. ‘Nearer’ than the other two ships.
Where though, Altaïr couldn’t sure.
Still…
Aquila landed on the sail of the same ship that Altaïr suspected.
That was all Altaïr needed to know that he had guessed right.
He took out one of the smoke bombs that Khalid gave him (with Desmond’s permission, of course) and threw it as high as he could. The smoke bomb fell on top of the bags of flour stacked near the other ship to the right of his target. There was a loud sound that threatened to deafen Altaïr before the bags exploded.
White smoke erupted at the same time flames shot out of the bags.
“Fire! Fire!!!” The people on the docks shouted as the bags caught fire. Many of them rushed to help extinguish the fire before it engulfed the ship next to it and Altaïr used that distraction, jumping down and slipping into the ship that was left unguarded.
Altaïr managed to get inside the captain’s cabin without anyone seeing him and a large man clad in golden armor turned to face him as he asked, “Repo- you!”
Altaïr threw a throwing knife at him which he easily parried with his heavily armored arm. The Basilisk grabbed the large sword resting by his desk and held it with two hands.
Unfortunately for him, the captain’s cabin was too small for such a large weapon.
Altaïr used that to his advantage, charging him as he threw another knife at his face. The Basilisk blocked it by pulling his heavy sword up, as Altaïr expected. Just as the knife clattered to the floor, he slammed his dagger right at the small opening that appeared on the Basilisk’s arm when he raised his sword to block Altaïr’s attack.
The Basilisk growled and pushed Altaïr away with his huge body and Altaïr let him, taking a few steps back while leaving his dagger piercing the Basilisk’s arm.
“You think you can best me in a duel, Assassin?!” The Basilisk shouted as he grabbed Altaïr’s dagger. He pulled it out and threw it to the floor, “Your folly will be the-”
The Basilisk stagger, unable to continue his sentence. He used his sword to keep himself upright, the sword’s digging into the floor because of its weight.
“What is- Poison? An Assassin? Using poison?” The Basilisk’s words slurred but Altaïr understood him anyway.
Altaïr didn’t bother to answer him, staring at him as he tried to walk towards Altaïr.
“You… you’re not one of… that old man’s…” The Basilisk began to sway dangerously, “You’re… Alamut-”
The Templar fell on the floor.
Altaïr quickly grabbed his throwing knives and his dagger before returning to the limp form of his target.
He was fast asleep.
Altaïr should tell Desmond that his sleeping ‘paste’ worked.
Altaïr felt it was too much for him right now to use the poison ‘paste’ that Desmond and Khalid were working on to coat their weapon in. Years of Rashid’s teaching of how poison was the coward’s way were still ringing in his ears.
This sleeping paste was a compromise that Altaïr made for himself. Desmond told him he didn’t have to but Altaïr insisted.
He wanted to.
Not just to use the same tools that Desmond used or to be seen as an Alamut Assassin but because he understood that they should use every tool at their disposal.
They were limiting themselves and inviting danger by being beholden to the idea of some kind of pride and honor that one who worked in the dark shouldn’t think about.
Small steps as Desmond did say.
He went down on one knee and pierced the Basilisk’s neck with his hidden blade before taking out a feather from his pouch. He dragged the feather across the blood pouring from the neck wound and returned it to his pouch before walking towards deeper into the cabin to look for any documents they might be able to use.
Altaïr returned to find that Malik and Desmond remained by the roof where Altaïr had been waiting for them when they went inside the stronghold. Malik looked furious but Altaïr ignored him and simply announced, “The Basilisk is dead.”
“Is that smoke your doing?” Desmond teased as Altaïr handed him the feather. His eyes shone with amusement as he took the feather from Altaïr’s hand.
“They weren’t able to take out the fire fast enough.”
Desmond chuckled as he placed the feather on his pouch while Altaïr took out the pieces of paper that he copied from the cabin and handed it to Desmond.
Malik’s brows furrowed even more.
“These are the letters the Basilisk had in the captain’s cabin. There’s nothing of note concerning Rashid-” Altaïr ignored the way Malik’s left hand twitched when he heard Rashid’s name pass Altaïr’s lips and continued, “-but these are all the people he was about to send letters to concerning their next plan to capture the Chalice.”
“His buddies, huh.” Desmond commented as he looked them over. The names felt both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
One thing was for certain.
The Basilisk wasn’t contacting any of the Nines.
It seemed more like he was in charge of a different subgroup in the Templar Order from Robert. It might even be possible that he and Robert were on opposite sides when it came to how the Templar Order should be run.
Would make sense that Robert was willing to sacrifice him to get Rashid in hot waters with Alamut.
Wait.
Was it possible that Rashid and the Basilisk were working together?
At the very least, it was possible Rashid was pretending to be working with the Basilisk while using the Templars’ resources to get more information about the Chalice.
But the letter did specify that Rashid betrayed the Order a year ago.
Desmond let out a tired sigh. There was no use trying to guess Rashid’s ‘relationship’ with the other Templars. What they needed was a clear connection between him and the Templar Order or any of its most important members.
In other words… the Nines.
It seemed the Basilisk was a dead end on that front.
But this list would prove beneficial. It was a list of people that needed to be taken out to keep Adha safe.
“Let’s go.” Desmond nodded at Altaïr while folding the papers in his hands. He hid the papers between his belt and sash as he turned to Malik, “Wanna go visit your father?”
Malik glared at him as he said, “I am not betraying my master.”
“I just said ‘visit’.” Desmond said with a shrug.
“You have a reason to wish for Al Mualim to be a traitor.” Malik said to Desmond before turning to face Altaïr as he asked, “Do you truly think that our master would betray us for the Templars?”
“I don’t know.” Altaïr answered truthfully as he looked back at Malik. His face was emotionless, the very pinnacle of Masyaf’s training, and his voice was calm as he continued, “But that is what we wish to find out. Proof of his betrayal.”
“The crusaders could just as easily create such proof. To paint a fake narrative that you will all fall for because that’s what you’re looking for.” Malik warned them as he waved his hand in the direction of the stronghold.
“Then we ignore the ones the Templars have.” Desmond said as he crossed his arms, giving Malik a full view of his hands, “We check Rashid’s movements. His orders.”
Malik stared at Desmond with widening eyes as Desmond continued, “Rashid isn’t an idiot. He should have an idea of the effects his orders would have and he would have made proper countermeasures and additional plans. A mentor’s responsibility does not end after receiving the feather drenched in the blood of the target.”
“You’re looking for proof that our missions were beneficial to the crusaders.” Malik realized. He stared at Desmond for a moment before he asked, “You’re not the only Alamut Assassin in this mission, are you?”
Malik didn’t wait for an answer as he thought out loud, “No. You would have more than one Assassin team in this, traveling to certain areas under our jurisdiction and looking over our past missions. A single Assassin team risked the chance of us catching wind of this and being ordered to burn the records.”
“They’re all probably in the bureaus already, aren’t they? One of them would ask to look at the records as part of the mission they receive from the imam of Alamut. What excuse did you use?” Malik shook his head as he continued, “It doesn’t matter. You’ll find the names and you’ll figure out who replaced them then you’ll investigate if those people are connected to the crusaders. If more than half… no.”
Malik rubbed his face as he mumbled, “Even if it’s just a quarter, that would be enough to order for Al Mualim to be removed from his post and for the council to take over while an investigation will be held more thoroughly.”
“Why are you worried?” Desmond asked lightly, tilting his head as he teased, “It’s not like the Templars are right and Rashid betrayed us.”
Malik glared at him while Altaïr sighed before he said, “Desmond, Malik does not do well being teased.”
“I don’t want to hear that coming from you.” Malik snapped at Altaïr. Seeing Altaïr just shrug annoyed Malik even further.
“You don’t have to be a part of this, Malik.” Desmond said and Malik felt some kind of resignation wash over him when he saw Desmond bump his shoulder against Altaïr’s.
It was such a simple thing but he noticed how Altaïr relaxed a little and even returned the gesture.
Oh.
They were that kind of lovers alright.
“You can come with us and visit your father. Stay for a while and let this entire thing blow over.” Desmond suggested and Malik heard how genuine his tone was.
He had no idea what ‘blow over’ meant but he could guess Desmond was saying he would be safe in Alamut. Visiting his father would be a good excuse.
Desmond would probably even let him say that he was forced to stay in Alamut after news of Al Mualim’s betrayal (‘If he did betray the Brotherhood’ sounded so small in Malik’s mind) came to light while he was there.
“No.” Malik shook his head as he continued, “I will do what I must as an Assassin of Masyaf.”
Altaïr didn’t seemed surprise when Malik glared at him while finishing his sentence. He supposed Altaïr didn’t feel guilty at all. He betrayed Masyaf to be with the man he loved.
He had been in their presence for a day and Malik could see the love they share. Not with words but through their actions.
Altaïr always stayed a little behind Desmond, covering his blind spot.
Desmond always turned slightly towards Altaïr even when he was speaking to someone else.
And when they did speak to one another…
It was a form of a torture Malik truly wished he did not have to experience at all.
“Alrighty then. We’ll see you some other time.” Desmond dropped his hands and turned around.
“Aren’t you worried I would tell Al Mualim about this?” Malik asked with narrowed eyes.
Desmond turned his upper body just enough so he could look back at Malik. With Altaïr right next to him, he looked too relaxed for Malik’s comfort.
Like nothing Malik could do or say would ever faze him.
“I trust you’d make the right choice when the time comes, Malik Al-Sayf.” Desmond repeated the same words he said before and Malik’s lips formed a grim line.
And wasn’t that the worst of it all?
The right choice…
How frustrating that Desmond believed him to be such a person.
It made Malik want to try to be that person that Desmond believed him to be.
Ah.
How annoying the next mentor of Alamut was.
Chapter 76
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Chapter Text
“Breathe in. Keep it in. One… two… three… Slowly breathe out.”
“Again.”
“Good. Again.”
“Now this time, when you breathe in, pull the string.”
“While holding your breath, take aim. Fire before you breathe out.”
“One… two…”
The arrow pierced the hare’s neck, dealing a swift death as it slumped to the ground.
Altaïr lowered Desmond’s bow as he slowly exhaled.
“Good shot.” Desmond said as he kept his hands on Altaïr’s arm and shoulder, his chest pressed against Altaïr’s back.
Aquila flew down and snatched the hare quickly before flying towards them to bring their dinner. Aquila landed by their feet and hopped off the hare that he was gripping tightly, staring at the two of them expectantly.
Desmond chuckled and leaned closer, resting his chin on Altaïr’s shoulder as he whispered, “I know you already know how to hunt.”
Altaïr turned to face him and whispered back as Desmond’s shemagh tickle his nose, “And yet here you are, indulging me.”
Aquila flapped his wings impatiently, making Desmond chuckle once more as he stepped away from Altaïr, patting his back as he walked towards Aquila.
“Thank you, Aquila.” Desmond said as he knelt on one knee in front of Aquila. Aquila cooed as Desmond scratched his head while Altaïr took the hare by the ears. He pulled the arrow out and handed it to Desmond who took it as he stood with Aquila hoping onto his shoulder. Desmond used a small piece of clothing from his pouch to clean the arrow as they walked back to their camp.
It had been a clean hit so they could reuse the arrow if they needed to.
“We’ll be back in Alamut tomorrow afternoon so let’s have soup tonight and reheat it tomorrow for breakfast.” Desmond noted as he returned the newly cleaned arrow back onto his quiver, “Nice job, by the way. You took it out cleanly.”
“It was covered in blood.” Altaïr reminded him.
Desmond bumped their shoulders as he rolled his eyes, “I know you know that I meant that you took it out of our prey without nicking the head or damaging it.”
Altaïr’s lips twitched as he said in a deadpan tone, “I’m not exactly sure what you just said was grammatically correct.”
“But you understood it!” Desmond said as he patted Altaïr’s back.
“I did.” Altaïr said with a small smile, bumping their shoulders once more as he said, “I can’t help it. Every time you tell me I’ve done a good job, it makes me want to remind you that there is nothing to ‘celebrate’.”
“There is though.” Desmond stepped forward and turned to face Altaïr, walking backwards as they neared the center of their camp where their horses were resting and a fire pit already ready but still unlit, “Just because you’re used to doing it doesn’t mean it isn’t awesome.”
“I believe you are simply ‘stroking my ego’, as you have said before…” Altaïr placed the hare on the clean piece of cloth that Desmond had placed near the fire pit before they started their hunt, kept in place thanks to the rocks on top of every corner of the cloth. He knelt in front of the hare and took the hunting knife that Desmond offered him as he continued, “There’s no need to stroke my ego further.”
Desmond stared at him as he began to skin the hare quietly. Once Altaïr was concentrating on his work, he bent over and leaned behind Altaïr, whispering by his ear, “Then should I stroke something else?”
Altaïr didn’t even stop as he asked, “What would you be stroking instead?”
“You know…” Desmond shrugged, having expected to rattle Altaïr.
Figured he would be just as calm as before even after such innuendo.
“I truly do not.” Altaïr answered.
Desmond stared at Altaïr for a moment before walking so he would be in front of Altaïr without having to be in the ‘splash zone’. To be fair, if Altaïr did this correctly, there should be no splash zone at all. He crouched and placed his elbows against his kneecaps before resting his chin on his palms.
He stared at Altaïr’s face as he asked, “You do know how to masturbate, right?”
“I am unfamiliar with that word.” Altaïr answered, glancing at Desmond before returning his attention to carefully carving the meat. He finished skinning the hare and placed the fur aside.
Desmond noticed he liked to keep the fur of the ones he hunted. Was he planning to do something about them?
Desmond remembered that the fur of the wolves he had to kill when he was still new in Alamut was turned to the warm blanket he used in his room.
Did Altaïr wish to do something like that? He should introduce him to the retired Assassin who made his fur blanket when they get back.
More importantly though…
“You know…” Desmond waved his hand as he asked, “When you touch yourself at night?”
Altaïr finally raised his head to clarify, “Are you asking me if I pleasure myself at night?”
“Yeah.” Desmond nodded.
“Not since I began to sleep with you.” Altaïr answered. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he asked, “Is that what you call it in your lands? Masturbate?”
“Yeeaaahhh…” Desmond answered awkwardly. He returned his other hand to rest his elbow against his kneecap once more as he asked, “So you’ve never jerked off-”
Altaïr mouthed the word ‘jerked off’ with furrowed brows and Desmond suddenly had this urge to say as many other words for ‘masturbation’ just to mess with him.
“-ever since we started sleeping together?” Desmond continued, not bothering to hide his curiosity at all.
“No.” Altaïr answered.
“But we don’t even sleep together.” Desmond reminded him.
Understanding that Desmond meant they were still not having any kind of sexual intercourse at all, Altaïr simply nodded to agree with him.
It was Desmond’s time to frown and Altaïr simply tilted his head to silently ask him why he was frowning.
Sure, he couldn’t see Desmond’s entire face but he knew the man enough to know from the lines around his eyes that he was truly frowning.
“It’s just…” Desmond paused before he asked, “Do you take care of it when we take a bath then?”
“No.” Altaïr answered. They stared at one another for a moment before Altaïr asked, “Do you pleasure yourself when we take a bath?”
“Yeah.” Desmond answered truthfully. He looked at his left for a moment before staring at Altaïr as he amended, “Sometimes.”
Altaïr hummed.
“You never felt the need to get some release before bed?” Desmond pushed, “Don’t you get aroused at all when we’re sleeping together?”
Desmond leaned a bit closer as he asked, “Don’t you want to fuck me?”
Before Altaïr could even answer, they heard a squawking sound coming from the side. They turned their heads just to in time to see Aquila covering both sides of his head with the tips of his wings while looking the bird equivalent of scandalous.
Aquila squawked once more before quickly flying off.
Desmond snorted before shouting between chuckles that he tried to smother, “Don’t go too far!”
Aquila just let out another squawk as he continued to fly away.
The two of them laughed for a bit and Desmond sighed, finally sitting on the ground. He could stay in the same position for hours on end no problem but that didn’t mean it wasn’t uncomfortable. Altaïr continued to carve the meat, making sure to place each part in a separate pile so Desmond could decide which part to add into the stew and which one to grill.
Altaïr was still unsure how to differentiate them all. In this eyes, they all looked alright to put on the stew.
“I do.”
“Hm?” Desmond hummed when Altaïr spoke after a minute of comfortable silence.
“I do wish to ‘fuck’ you.”
Desmond’s cheeks reddened even as he said, “O-oh.”
He ducked his head as he said, “Well… I wanna fuck you too.”
Altaïr chuckled as he said, “That’s good to know.”
Desmond grinned as well and watched Altaïr once more.
As a comfortable silence enveloped them once more.
Aquila returned later on when they were going to start cooking. Desmond figured he came back when he saw the smoke and greeted him with a grin as he finally pulled his shemagh down. He raised his arm so Aquila could land on it and rubbed his chin as he apologized, “Sorry, Aquila. I’m honestly surprised that you know what we were talking about.”
Aquila glared at him and stomped his little feet as if to tell Desmond that he was an adult too. Desmond simply chuckled and began to groom Aquila as he said, “Well, you’ll always be my baby boy.”
God, he had really turned into that kind of parent, didn’t he?
Aquila cooed as he bumped his head on Desmond’s hand as if to agree with him.
“But you gotta understand that your father will be getting some action sooner or later.” Desmond whispered. Aquila froze as Desmond continued to groom him while he talked, “And when that happens, I think it would be better if you slept somewhere else. Don’t you?”
Aquila stared at Desmond for a moment before he turned his gaze towards Altaïr who was piercing the meat that would be grilled with metal sticks that Desmond brought with him. The same metal sticks that Altaïr had assumed to be weapons before, making Adha laugh.
“Stop glaring at him.” Desmond poked Aquila’s head lightly, making the bird shake his head before looking at Desmond with the expression Desmond dubbed his ‘pouting’ look.
“We’re going to fuck sooner or later, Aquila. Do you really want to be there when that happens?”
Aquila let out a grumbling sounds as he shook his head slowly while looking down.
“Good.” Desmond grinned as he said lightly, “Thank you for being so understanding, ya zaghtour.”
He didn’t bother to tell Aquila that one of the main reasons why he had never made a move on Altaïr was because he and even sometimes Maud slept in the same room.
Now he just hoped Altaïr talked to Maud about this.
Maud returned just as the water on the small pot they had started to boil. She held a hare very similar to the one Altaïr had taken down in one of her talons. She placed the hare next to Altaïr who quietly began to skin it.
Once it was skinned, he handed the entire hare to Maud before cleaning the fur. Maud glanced at Aquila and seemed to notice that he was acting a bit strangely.
Then just completely ignored him.
Desmond only chuckled while Aquila continued to stare at the fire as if it held some kind of answer to the silent question his poor mind was going through.
It was during these times that he start to believe Raiza’s belief that continuing to connect with their aviary companion helped them develop human-like characteristics.
That was also the main reason why Desmond believed that Altaïr had been connecting with Maud without him realizing it. It wasn’t a full connection but a light subconscious one.
It was actually easier to see the difference with Maud now.
Before, she would just eat that hare without returning to the camp according to Altaïr.
But now, here she was, giving it to Altaïr to skin first.
Desmond had a feeling she was giving the fur to Altaïr because she noticed he was keeping them. If she could speak, she’d probably deny it though.
Maud rarely slept in their room, now that Desmond thought about it.
He saw her once or twice in the aviary on the top of the tower when he was the one assigned to feed the eagles there before breakfast (a duty he shared with his father).
He guessed Altaïr didn’t have to tell Maud anything. She’d probably leave on her own volition once she noticed them.
Damn.
Why was he thinking of this right now?
He should be focusing on something else.
Like…
Stopping Altaïr before he put everything on the boiling pot like the lazy heathen that he was.
They returned to Alamut as the sun was setting. They could have gotten there earlier but they decided to wait until nightfall before passing the town below the castle.
Desmond hadn’t shown his face in town since his return and he didn’t really want to for now. They already had the rumors spreading all over town about how his parents had agreed to him taking Altaïr as his lover.
He had to specify it was ‘lover’, not ‘consort’. According to one of the recruits who cleaned their floor, the townspeople believed that it was his parents who denied his request for Altaïr to be his consort. He supposed no one would believe that it was the request of the man who eloped with his male lover for his lover to not be called a consort for now.
Elopement did have the connotation of marriage in it.
… which Altaïr was super okay with.
He didn’t have to say it out right. Desmond could see it with how he acted.
Desmond wasn’t going to poke that one. If Altaïr was alright with it then that was that.
They handed their horses to the Assassins in charge of the stables for today, returning the greetings of good evening from the recruits on afternoon cleaning duty who was assisting them.
They were two batches younger than Adha’s own batch with awe in their eyes and awkward shy smiles.
Adorable kids in Desmond’s eyes.
“You guys about done here?” Desmond asked with his hands on his hip while Altaïr talked to the leader of the Assassins on stable duties for tonight.
Well…
Officially, it was called stables duty.
In reality, they were supposed to pretend to be stablehands who looked after the stables as part of the nightly patrols. They remained stationary most of the time but they were also there to quickly run to the other patrols in case of emergency.
“Oh, yes, um… Vega.” The one who was most likely the unofficial spokesperson of the recruits answered as he brought hay to Altaïr’s horse. Altaïr was now by his horse, teaching a recruit who looked ready to burst (from excitement or from being near someone as great as Altaïr, maybe even both) how to groom the horse after seeing him stiffly brushing the horse’s flank.
“Good. Let’s all return to the castle together.” Desmond grinned as he said lightly, “Using the rooftops.”
All the recruits perked up at that.
“You better guide them if you’re planning to take them back with you.” The lead Assassin, a man a year younger than Zain that went by the name Qahwah, told Desmond. He didn’t look like he was planning to stop him, just reminding him that the recruits weren’t used to freerunning just yet.
They all looked excited though and Desmond couldn’t say no to such pure expressions.
“It’ll be fine. Altaïr will help.” Desmond tilted his head as he asked, “Right?”
“Of course.” Altaïr answered immediately as he turned to face Desmond, “Some learn to freerun faster when they’re trying it outside of training.”
“Great!” Desmond clapped his hands as he said, “Let’s finish up your tasks here and then we’ll go freerun back!”
The recruits cheered and they began to finish their remaining tasks (just sweeping the floor and replacing the water of the horses) with more enthusiasm.
Desmond walked out of the stables and whistled. Aquila landed on his shoulder almost immediately.
“Go on ahead and inform father of our return.” Desmond said softly as he rubbed Aquila’s cheek briefly. Aquila cooed and rubbed the side of his face against Desmond’s cheek, making the shemagh rub against his cheek, “We’ll go with the fledglings.”
Altaïr walked towards him and stood next to him with his hands crossed as he watched the recruits while Aquila gave a thrill before flying away.
“You can help them out if you want.” Desmond said softly as he turned to watch the recruits as well, “They’d probably like that.”
“They’ll just feel awkward around me.” Altaïr said with a frown.
“They’ll feel awkward if the son of the imam was to help out.” Desmond corrected, “You’ll be fine. I hear you’ve been making friends.”
“I have?” Altaïr turned to face him with his frown slightly deepening.
“A lot of the other Assassins think you’re a friend after you sparred with them.” Desmond explained.
That was probably his batchmates’ aim from the start.
Altaïr hummed as his expression smoothed out.
“Will you be alright on your own for a bit?”
Desmond’s heart skipped a beat at Altaïr’s earnest question. He pulled down his shemagh and smiled brightly as he said, “Of course. Go.”
Altaïr nodded, staring at him for a moment before walking back inside the stables. He walked straight to the recruit that was in charge of returning all the tools they had used and they talked for a bit before walking towards the tool shed.
… and started arranging the tools inside.
Desmond pulled up his shemagh to cover his snicker.
Altaïr’s expression was as serious as when he explained how to properly wield a dagger as he explained each tool and how to properly store them and why one should properly make sure everything was dry first before storing them inside an enclosed closet space.
Dear god.
This was the man he had fallen for.
“Did you hear the latest rumor?” Qahwah asked with a grin.
Desmond wanted to sigh.
“Alright. What’s the latest rumor?” Desmond dryly asked.
“They say Peredur’s latest book is on hold right now.” Qahwah said, the joy in his tone clear for anyone to hear, “Apparently, one of the proofreaders requested a lot of edits before you all left for your missions. Peredur might have run away from those edits… allegedly.”
Why was Desmond hearing this now?
“You know the best part of this rumor?” Qahwah stepped closer to Desmond. It was still a respectable distance but he could now whisper softly to make sure only Desmond would hear. He nodded at the direction of the stable as he said, “The proofreader who requested a lot of edits was the newest member of the team.”
…
Did Desmond knew that Altaïr decided to become a proofreader?
Yes, he did.
Was he worried about what kind of edits Altaïr wanted?
Absolutely.
“Well… if that’s what Altaïr wants…” Desmond just shrugged.
At the end of the day…
That was what was most important for Desmond after all.
Chapter 77
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Update (08/12/24): Small update based on kozaru12's suggestion
Chapter Text
Altaïr ate with Faheem once more.
It went well… Altaïr supposed.
“We met with Malik. Desmond ordered him to help us with our mission.”
He didn’t think Desmond would mind if Altaïr was the one to tell Faheem about it. In the grand scheme of things, working with Malik wasn’t news-worthy.
“I’m surprised you two didn’t kidnap him while you’re at it.”
“Desmond invited him to come visit you. I’m certain his plan had been to force Malik to stay here while Rashid is being investigated.”
Altaïr didn’t bother to tell him that, had Desmond told Altaïr that they were kidnapping Malik, he wouldn’t even question it and would have tied up Malik himself.
Faheem’s long suffering sigh was one that Altaïr was most familiar with.
“I was joking.” Faheem dryly stated, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he continued, “It seems I trusted Desmond too much. I didn’t think he would try to do such a thing.”
“He didn’t.” Altaïr reminded him as he scooped up the fragrant rice remaining on his plate, “He gave Malik a choice and honored what Malik chose in the end.”
“And I’m sure the fact that Malik now knows that Alamut is investigating Rashid did not factor into him letting my son go.” Faheem snarked and placed his spoon down as he had already cleaned his plate while Altaïr finished his own meal. He poured warm tea into his cup before filling Altaïr’s half-empty cup as well as he dryly said, “Desmond planned the entire thing, you know that, right?”
Altaïr nodded as he replied, “I do. Either Malik stays in Alamut, removing one of the best Assassins out of the field during a critical time, or Malik becomes one of our allies once we show proof of Rashid’s betrayal.”
“Aren’t you two worried that he would tell Rashid everything you’ve done?” Faheem challenged as he placed the tea pot down after filling Altaïr’s cup.
Altaïr grabbed his cup at the same time as Faheem grabbed his own and they both took a sip. Faheem placed his cup down while Altaïr did the same but still continued to hold it with his two hands as he answered, “Desmond believes that Malik would make the right choice.”
The right choice.
Faheem sighed once more.
Those were truly the most cursed words one could say to an Al-Sayf.
They might not be strongest nor the smartest.
There were even a lot of Assassins that could agree that Faheem Al-Sayf was a fool who desired for blood and carnage.
But, if there was one thing his father thought him that he tried to impart to his sons, it was that their family took the blade not for honor or for glory or because of family traditions.
But because it was the right thing to do.
It was frightening how Desmond knew the right words to use to get under his son’s skin.
‘The right thing to do’.
A curse he had placed in his son.
Malik took his duties and responsibilities as both an Assassin and as a member of the Al-Sayf family most seriously.
It was Faheem’s fault.
His nickname of ‘war hawk’ weighed down on his oldest son. Malik was doing everything to show that their family wasn’t a bunch of war crazed bloodthirsty beasts.
And nothing would force him to rethink everything than the words ‘the right choice’.
Faheem sighed once more.
He wished he could offer some kind of comfort to Malik. A letter would have been a good starting point but it would only put him in danger once Alamut’s investigations come to light.
Desmond had already placed him in a difficult position by ordering him to accompany them in their mission back in Tyre.
If Rashid was to think that the mission had been a ruse to turn Malik into Alamut’s spy…
Faheem rubbed his forehead.
“Are you alright?”
Faheem’s lips curved into a mirthless smile.
Was he alright?
Who knows?
“Malik would be safer if he told Rashid the truth.” Faheem admitted, closing his eyes as the words that left his lips felt like poison, “Rashid could just as easily mistake him for a spy if he doesn’t report everything.”
Altaïr was quiet for a moment before he said, “I think…”
Altaïr stared at the liquid in his cup as he continued, “Malik can take care of himself.”
Faheem opened his eyes at the same time Altaïr raised his head to stare at him as he noted, “Malik wouldn’t falter even if he was being interrogated by Rashid.”
Faheem blinked before he commented with a small amused smile, “I’m surprised to hear such praise from you. Everyone knows that you and my oldest do not see eye to eye in a lot of things.”
“We don’t.” Altaïr agreed before he said, “But that does not mean my vision is clouded… unlike yours.”
Faheem’s brows furrowed but he remained quiet as Altaïr continued, “You still see Malik as a child who needs to be protected.”
Faheem opened his mouth but Altaïr leveled him a stare that wasn’t hostile but challenging all the same. Faheem closed his mouth as he thought about what Altaïr just said.
He rubbed his face as he sighed, “I suppose I do…”
He looked at the window to his left as he admitted, “It comes with being a father, I’m afraid. You can’t help but see the baby you held in your arms, small and soft… No matter how much they grow, I would close my eyes and I’d be back in our old home, calming them down while cleaning their scraped knee.”
He turned to look back at Altaïr as he said, “You’ll understand when you have a child of your own.”
“A child…” Altaïr repeated as he lowered his head to look back at his cup.
Faheem placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing Altaïr to focus back to him before his mind could go… elsewhere.
“I misspoke, Altaïr. Forgive me.” Faheem solemnly stated and Altaïr blinked, a little confused by how serious Faheem looked.
He looked more serious than he had been when he was talking about Malik’s precarious situation in the Brotherhood right now.
“You do not need to think about such things. Not right now.” Faheem said gravely, “You should just enjoy life as is for now. Treasure the time you have with Desmond… alone.”
Altaïr raised an eyebrow at such emphasis given to that certain word. Faheem rolled his eyes as he said, “You know what I mean.”
He patted Altaïr’s shoulder before dropping his hand and resting his back against the chair, “A child… complicates things.”
“Like… the succession of the title of imam ?” Altaïr asked calmly before taking a sip of the tea once more.
It had cooled down a bit but that was fine.
It still tasted good.
Not enough honey and too much flower for his taste but good nonetheless.
Faheem let out another sigh but Altaïr noticed this was different.
He was more annoyed than usual.
“I suppose it would be better if I was the one to tell you this. There are a few Assassins who believe Desmond willingly took a male consort to ensure his younger brother’s position as the next imam .” Faheem explained, never bothering to hide the annoyance in this tone.
He obviously didn’t like talking about this kind of thing.
It wasn’t surprising.
Faheem Al-Sayf never liked the political side of being a high ranking member of the council back in Masyaf.
“As you know, the roles of imam and mentor are traditionally held by the same person. It has been the way of those who came before us and is still being practiced today.”
Altaïr kept quiet even though he knew that Desmond’s father currently held the role of imam but not of mentor. He wasn’t actively looking for the real mentor but, still, it was strange that the only ones who had even hinted on the mentor’s existence were Desmond and his father only.
“So there are those who believe that Desmond should take both roles when he succeeds his father.” Faheem explained, “He has endeared himself to many of the Assassins here and shown both his might and intellect, as well as his loyalty to the Creed. It would make sense that they would want him to be the imam as well but…”
“There are those who believe that the imam should come from the same bloodline as Hasan-i Sabbah which, in this case, would be Jalāl al-Dīn Ḥasan III.” Faheem took a sip of his tea before he continued, “This entire thing has been slowly boiling over since the mentor announced Desmond as his adopted son back-”
He looked at Altaïr with look of a man who definitely had enough of the two of them, “Well, I’m sure you remember that night.”
He waved his hand and didn’t wait for Altaïr to say anything as he continued, “Things were slowly boiling over since that night. The only thing stopping people from openly asking Desmond to take over as the imam as well was the fact that he was close to his younger brother.”
Faheem was quiet for a moment before he added, “But there have been requests of Desmond to be given lessons on how to be the imam even after the young prince was born. Arguments have already broken out between those two main factions… not that they would do it in front of Desmond, of course, but I’m sure Desmond knows of it.”
Faheem rolled his eyes as he snarked, “That boy does like to ignore things that he doesn’t want to deal with so I’m sure he’s just pretending not to know about it.”
“That’s why many believe that taking you as his consort was a political move.” Faheem said, “That he was being stubborn and ignoring everyone’s apprehension of his decision to make Adha an Assassin. Some of them even believes that his plan to make Adha an Assassin was to ensure that there would no longer be any talks of marrying her. And that plan of his was only meant to be one part of some kind of grand master plan to ensure that the role of imam will remain in his adoptive family’s bloodline even if he was to be given the role later on.”
“We can’t, after all, force Jalāl to take the role if he doesn’t want to.” Faheem sighed before continuing, “People believe it’s some sort of compromise and a statement. He could have just kept your relationship a secret and married some other woman to keep up his appearance, after all.”
Altaïr was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you believe that as well?”
Faheem stared at his cup for a moment before he sighed, “My life would be so much easier if I did.”
“The worst thing about Desmond is how hard it is to guess his next move.” Faheem admitted before finishing his tea. Altaïr drank half of his tea as well as he waited for Faheem to continue. They both placed their cups down and Altaïr let Faheem fill them both up even though he wasn’t truly in the mood to continue drinking. Faheem let out another sigh and Altaïr felt the need to start counting just how many times Faheem had sighed since they started this conversation.
It was a bit worrying.
Probably for Desmond…
Altaïr was used to hearing so many sighs coming from Malik though.
“I never expected him to take you back to Alamut this early.” Faheem commented as he placed the teacup down. Altaïr took his cup and sipped it at the same time as Faheem. Faheem pulled the cup back slightly as he continued, “I expected you two to continue this tragic Greek love story of yours for a couple of years if I was being completely honest.”
Faheem looked at the ceiling without raising his head for a moment before turning his attention back on his cup as he said, “My prediction was that you will transfer to Alamut and court him after he becomes the mentor.”
“Instead…” Faheem tipped his cup towards Altaïr as he dryly said, “He took you from Rashid and now has all of us investigating the old man because of the possibility that he’s a Templar.”
Faheem shook his head as he commented, “That boy works fast.”
Faheem sighed once more as he added, “I expected this to be part of a grand plan to bring back Masyaf under Alamut’s control but…”
Faheem glared at Altaïr as if he had a hand in the planning of this operation, “From what the mentor told me, Desmond wants someone from Masyaf to replace Rashid.”
“I won’t leave Desmond’s side.” Altaïr said immediately.
Faheem rolled his eyes as he dryly said, “You’re disqualified from even being considered as a candidate the moment you came to Alamut because of ‘love’.”
Altaïr thought the dramatic way Faheem said the word ‘love’ was unnecessary.
Faheem began to tap the table with his point finger as he asked, “How sure are you that Desmond doesn’t plan to transfer to Masyaf as the mentor later on once the young prince comes of age?”
Altaïr thought about it.
Desmond never seemed to care about the title of mentor in Altaïr’s eyes.
He was loyal to the Brotherhood.
Or…
To what he thought the Brotherhood was meant to be.
His deference to the true mentor seemed to stem from some kind of liking he had for the elusive man, akin to the familial bond he shared with the imam .
“It sounds too much like hard work to me.” Altaïr commented before taking another sip of his tea. He placed the cup down as he continued, “Desmond would have to work in endearing himself to Masyaf while Jalāl is still young. Taking me in as the consort would make that a high mountain to pass since, in the eyes of Masyaf, he’s the reason I defected.”
He paused before adding with a shrug, “Not to mention, many of them probably still believe we are brothers and that would certainly be more controversial than the fact that we’re both men.”
Faheem grunted at the same time he nodded, showing that he agreed with Altaïr’s thoughts.
“If anything…” Altaïr stared at Faheem. He waited until Faheem was drinking his tea once more before he said, “I would say that there is a higher chance of you becoming the mentor of Masyaf.”
Altaïr watched as Faheem choked and tilted his head when he saw the split second that it took for Faheem to internally debate whether to spit out the tea or swallow it.
The older man decided to protect his pride and swallowed it.
How like him.
It must have hurt as well but Altaïr was not going to ask.
“You did that on purpose.” Faheem growled at him, his glare reminding Altaïr the one time he managed to surprise Malik enough that the water he drank actually came out of his nose.
“Why would I do such a thing?” Altaïr asked as he blinked.
He heard from Adha that blinking made one look more innocent than usual.
He grabbed his cup and drank what remained in it while Faheem rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Don’t even tell Desmond about that idea of yours. Knowing him, he might just think that’s a good idea.”
Altaïr placed the now empty cup on the table as he said, “He won’t.”
He grabbed the tea pot and refilled Faheem’s cup as he said, “People might think of you as a puppet sent by Alamut. It’s too risky to place you as the mentor.”
He returned the tea pot on the table once Faheem’s cup has been filled and stood, “If it makes you feel any better, your standing here in Alamut is also the same reason why Malik will not be nominated as the next mentor.”
Faheem grimaced as he said, “He’s much too young to be the mentor.”
Seeing Altaïr raise his eyebrow, Faheem sighed as he rubbed his face, “I know. I did it again. Still…”
Faheem placed a hand on the table as he asked, “Doesn’t it make you curious who he would pick to be the mentor in Masyaf?”
Altaïr thought about it for a moment before shrugging, “Not really.”
“Are you not even a little bit curious about what will happen to your home?” Faheem asked.
Those words could just as easily been filled with scorn but Faheem sounded genuinely curious.
Altaïr heard the hidden question he posed at the same time.
‘Have you fully turned your back at Masyaf?’
“What is a home to you, Faheem?” Altaïr asked. The question he posed caused Faheem’s brows to furrow.
“A home is where you feel safe. Where the people you love are.” Faheem answered and he sounded a bit unsure in Altaïr’s ears.
“Is it not a building?” Altaïr pressed and Faheem’s brows furrowed even more.
“I suppose you can say that. It can be a place where you place your things in.” The concern was clear in Faheem’s eyes as he asked, “Is that what ‘home’ means to you, Altaïr?”
“It was for a very long time.” Altaïr answered. He lowered his head to look at his left hand as he explained, “To me, Masyaf was home because it was the only place I could truly sleep. Even if I do wake up at the smallest of sound, it was still better than what little rest I have outside of Masyaf.”
“I’ve thought about why and I figured it out after a few nights in Desmond’s room. It’s not that Masyaf was safe… it was my room. No.” Altaïr curled his hand into a fist, “It was our room.”
“My father used to sleep in the same room. Our cots would be right next to one another that I could slip onto his at times. Father would always laugh but he never told me to go back to my own bed.” Altaïr continued as he stared at his clenched fist with unfocused eyes, “When he died… I let them take my cot instead.”
“I will always care for Masyaf.” Altaïr admitted, “And I am curious of what Desmond plans to do with it but…”
“I am willing to turn my back on Masyaf to be with Desmond.” Altaïr announced, “Masyaf is my past. The home I shared with my father and the very same home I clung to after his death. But… not anymore.”
He dropped his hand as he raised his head to stare at Faheem, “Perhaps I am an ungrateful traitor who is willing to walk away from the place that raised me and I am fine with that. I do not owe anyone my loyalty just because they gave me shelter and food.”
“To me…” Altaïr closed his eyes and his lips curved into a small smile that Faheem wasn’t entirely sure was truly there, “Desmond is my home.”
Chapter 78
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL.
Also, the explicit scene to 'celebrate' Altaïr’s death day for this chapter is uploaded to Eagle of Alamut Extra for those interested. :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Desmond wasn’t surprised that the two of them were the first team to return to Alamut. He would have taken it as a sign that something went wrong if any of the other teams had returned first.
This wasn’t like their usual missions. There were no informants that have already gathered information for them. There was no support from the Rafiq who would have had eyes and ears all around to guide them to their target.
If anything, they were doing everything like they were recruits once more.
Investigating and double-checking everything they believe they knew.
The similarity with Altaïr’s fate next year in the original timeline did not fly pass Desmond.
Desmond sometimes wondered if that the universe was conspiring against him, reminding him again and again of the ‘past’ that he was actively destroying.
He already made his bed.
The day Minerva told him he was free, he made a vow to never look back.
There might come a time when he would wonder if he’d done the right thing. His mind might even whisper to him how it was possible he had changed the past for the worse.
But even if that time comes, he wouldn’t regret his choice back then.
Because he would never think that Altaïr’s love was a mistake.
Desmond sighed.
His mind was wandering.
He hoped Faheem wasn’t interrogating Altaïr because of Malik. If there was someone he should interrogate, it should be Desmond.
He never realized how lonely the silence of his room was until he was sitting on the window sill, staring the night sky as he waited for Altaïr to come back.
Aquila followed him to the harem and ate with them before going on a nightly hunt. Something he started to do after Maud claimed the aviary as her ‘throne’.
Bennu had been the de facto leader of the aviary before.
Raiza told him that Maud had pecked Bennu hard when he tried to visit her.
A show of dominance according to Raiza.
… and, from the sounds of Bennu’s grumbling next to them, perhaps a show of the current family drama the aviary was now a part of.
Whatever it was, it was certain that Maud was winning.
Desmond wasn’t surprised at all.
As far as Desmond knows, Aquila wasn’t banned from the aviary. He just didn’t like to stay there anymore now that Maud had taken residence there.
Aquila had no plans to return for the night, it seemed. And Desmond was pretty sure it was because of the talk they had on their way back to Alamut.
Desmond would have felt bad.
… had he not known that he was sleeping in Jalāl’s room. He connected to Aquila for a little while ago and he saw him resting in a pillow on the foot of Jalāl’s bed.
Desmond let out a small hum as he closed his eyes, leaning his head back.
The evening breeze was nice.
It would probably take months for them to collect the evidence necessary to get the council in Masyaf to start an investigation.
It would have been so much easier if he was to just assassinate Rashid and be done with it but…
He still had the vague memories of how Rashid’s death haunted Altaïr to the very end.
There were those who didn’t believe Rashid betrayed them. They became the foundation of Abbas’ faction that slowly took over the young impressionable recruits and destroyed almost everything that Altaïr had rebuilt after taking over.
Desmond didn’t have any vivid memories left. All he remembered was that Alamut gave Altaïr sanctuary.
By that time, Jalāl would have been the mentor and imam of Alamut.
He couldn’t even picture it.
All he could imagine was Jalāl as he was right now, a young child wearing their father’s clothes, telling Altaïr that he could stay for as long as he wants, stumbling over some of the words.
It was an adorable image that made Desmond’s lips curve into a small smile.
He opened his eyes as his smile dropped, sighing as his thoughts pushed forward.
Alamut wouldn’t have done anything to help Altaïr back then past giving him sanctuary to keep him safe from Abbas. By that point, Masyaf and Alamut must have been nothing more than distant allies.
And perhaps that was for the best…
Just thinking of being the mentor for both Masyaf and Alamut was giving him a headache.
“Welcome back.” Desmond said as he turned just as the door opened. Altaïr stepped inside and closed the door quietly.
A feat all by itself.
Desmond made sure that the door would creak every time it moved.
It was honestly surprising that Altaïr was able to open and close it quietly.
“Maybe I should check it tomorrow.” Desmond mumbled out loud.
“Check what?” Altaïr asked as he walked towards him.
“The door.” Desmond answered. His lips curved into a smile as he felt Altaïr kiss him.
A brief chaste kiss that made Desmond’s lips part just as Altaïr pull away softly.
“Tease.” Desmond mumbled.
Altaïr hummed and kissed him once more.
This time, Desmond grabbed his robe to stop him from pulling back and deepened their kiss.
Their kiss tasted like hibiscus with not enough honey.
It reminded him of relaxing after a meal, surrounded by people he came to care about.
As he wrapped his arms around Altaïr’s neck, he thought…
He wouldn’t mind getting addicted to this kind of kiss.
He felt one of Altaïr’s hand on his back and another on his thigh. His hands moved until…
“Oh!” Desmond’s grip tightened when Altaïr suddenly lifted him off the window sill, carrying back into the room.
“It’s dangerous to go further by the window.” Altaïr explained calmly as he gently placed Desmond on the chair next to the desk.
Desmond raised an eyebrow as he repeated in a teasing tone, “Further?”
“If you’d like.” Altaïr shrugged as he sat Desmond at the edge of the desk.
The ordered chaos that Desmond usually left on top had been turned into an organized stack of books to the right and a stack of papers with a wooden carving of an eagle on top as a paperweight.
The topmost book on the right was the last book of Peredur’s series. The one with the cliffhanger.
It was obvious who the owner of that blasted book was.
“Let’s see how the night goes.” Desmond said with a grin as he absentmindedly tilted the black quill he normally used for work a little to the right, almost touching the small ink bottle next to it. He tilted his head as he asked, “Faheem kept you a lot longer than usual. Did he interrogate you about Malik?”
Altaïr rested his hands on the desk as he answered, “I do not believe that was his intention… He mostly talked about what would happen to Masyaf once our investigation come to light.”
Altaïr frowned as he added, “And who would be the next mentor of Masyaf.”
Desmond hummed.
He wasn’t surprised.
That would probably be everyone’s most pressing question once Rashid was kicked out of the position.
“Do you have any plans on who the next mentor would be?” Altaïr asked and Desmond could feel that he was simply curious.
“What about you?” Desmond asked back as he leaned towards Altaïr.
“I suggested that Faheem become the next mentor while he was drinking his tea. He almost spat it out but decided to swallow it.” Altaïr answered and Desmond laughed.
He could clearly see Faheem stubbornly swallowing the tea that he almost choked on because he was just that stubborn.
“I wasn’t asking you who you think should be the next mentor.” Desmond placed a hand over Altaïr’s hand as he asked, “Have you thought about being the next mentor?”
“I betrayed Masyaf. There will be too many who would object if I was to be the mentor.” Altaïr answered immediately, “And I wouldn’t accept the position even if I was ordered by the mentor of Alamut to.”
“Oh?” Desmond blinked.
He didn’t expect Altaïr to reject it so vehemently.
Then again…
Desmond didn’t know why Altaïr had agreed to become the mentor back in the original timeline in the first place.
Or why Masyaf was alright with him being the mentor…
“Being the mentor of Masyaf means staying in Masyaf.” Altaïr said before he leaned closer. Their noses touched as he whispered, “I’m not leaving your side, Desmond.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he placed his other hand on Altaïr’s shoulder, “So I guess you won’t agree to be my Keeper then?”
“Absolutely not.” Altaïr whispered back, “I heard the Keeper of Alamut stays in Lambsar Castle. That’s too far.”
Desmond chuckled and pulled Altaïr closer, “It’s a nice place. I stayed there after my initiation.”
“Perhaps we can go visit it some other time.” Altaïr mumbled.
“I’d love that.” Desmond replied just as their lips met once more.
Desmond’s hands grabbed the front of his robes as they deepened the kiss. Knowing that Altaïr would be distracted, Desmond broke their kiss at the same time he turned both of them.
Altaïr didn’t react even when Desmond pushed him to sit on the chair instead while one of Desmond’s knee rested on the chair, his kneecap grazing between Altaïr’s legs while leaning forward as he looked down at Altaïr.
“Remember what you told me?” Desmond whispered as he let go of Altaïr’s robes and grabbed the hem instead, “About how you haven’t… found any release since we’ve been together?”
“I do.” Altaïr nodded and watched Desmond hike his robes up until the hem was resting around his waist. When Desmond moved to grab his pants, Altaïr grabbed his wrists, “Desmond.”
Desmond frowned and tilted his head as he asked, “Do you… do you not want to?”
Ah.
Desmond wanted to scream.
He sounded so unsure right now.
Shit.
Did he mistook the mood?
“I do but… I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.” Altaïr answered. He moved his hands so he could gently entwined their fingers as he said, “I would enjoy sharing such intimacy with you but… only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Desmond answered immediately, frowning when he added, “Okay. I’m a bit nervous, sure, but that’s not because I don’t want to. It’s just…”
Desmond’s entire face heated up as he admitted, “I’ve… I’ve never done this with anyone…”
… since he reverted to his 16 year old self and returned to the past.
He was honestly hoping that his fae lies wouldn’t fail him right now because, technically, it wasn’t a lie.
Sorta.
“Oh.” Altaïr’s own cheeks reddened and Desmond could see the tips of his ears become red as well as he admitted, “I also… haven’t done this with anyone.”
“Eh?” Desmond blinked. He tilted his head as he asked, “Not even with the Flowers in Paradise?”
“No.” Altaïr shook his head.
But…
Desmond was sure he did.
Wait.
Oh, fuck.
Was this one of the things his appearance in this time changed?
Did he…
Did he accidentally changed the past enough for Altaïr to remain a virgin this entire time?
“Oh.”
They both looked at each other and Desmond could feel the awkwardness seeping through his body.
“Well… My body is pure.” … technically… “But I’m quite… knowledgeable in this area.”
Altaïr raised an eyebrow and Desmond’s already red face only grew even redder.
It felt like he was having a fever, damn it.
“I’ve… read… quite a lot about it… before.” Desmond explained vaguely.
That wasn’t the extent of his experience but it was better for Altaïr to believe that his experience was only in theory.
“So if you’re alright with it…” Desmond stared at him as he suggested, “We can learn together what we both like.”
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before his lips curved into a small smile. He grabbed Desmond’s robes and pull him closer as he whispered, “I’d like that, Desmond.”
“Okay.” Desmond took a deep breath as he repeated, “Okay. Then…”
Desmond let go of Altaïr’s hands as he ordered softly, “Just relax and let me take care of you tonight.”
Desmond enjoyed walking at night after taking a bath in the thermae. The cool breeze… the comfortable silence…
“Sometimes, I think I’m in a dream.” Desmond admitted as they continued to make their way back to the mentor’s tower. Desmond sighed as he admitted, “And whenever I think that, I would always fear that this would be the day I wake up.”
He felt Altaïr wrap his hand around his and squeeze it lightly. Desmond grinned as he turned to look at him, “Is this your way of telling me that this isn’t a dream?”
Altaïr didn’t answer immediately, instead nodding at the two Assassins assigned to guard the entrance of the tower.
“Hey, guys.” Desmond greeted even though he already greeted them a while ago when they left.
“Hello, Desmond.” The older of the two grinned at them, “Enjoyed the baths of the thermae with Altaïr?”
“Of course.” Desmond answered lightly as he and Altaïr walked inside the tower, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“You should visit the ring when you have the time. The newest recruits are having their first sparring match.” The Assassin informed him as they began to make their way towards the stairs. They stopped to turn and look at the entrance and the Assassin grinned, “Maybe you can give them tips afterwards, Altaïr.”
Altaïr nodded as he said, “I’ll see if I can find the time tomorrow.”
“Good night, you two.” The Assassin waved as he nodded and they both waved back before walking up the stairs.
“I can ask Oded if you can teach a batch or two.” Desmond suggested.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea for now.” Altaïr said as they continued to ascend the stairs, “Those against you being the mentor might spin this into me trying to influence the recruits to being loyal to you.”
Desmond sighed as he said, “I hate politics.”
Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “They’ll die soon enough.”
Desmond stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned to stare at Altaïr. He frowned as he said, “I’m sure you’d tell me first if you poisoned my detractors and you’d even share to me your findings since Khalid and I have been trying to find the correct mix for future use so I need you to clarify what you mean by that.”
“Most of your detractors are quite old.” Altaïr said, “We don’t need to poison them. Sooner or later, they’d either lay down their blade because of old age or because of death. Those that would remain wouldn’t be able to build any worrying oppositions because, by that point, your friends would be in high ranking positions in the Brotherhood already.”
Wow.
That was certainly a pragmatic way to see the Brotherhood.
This wasn’t news to Desmond.
His mothers had already laid out a more detailed plan, including which of his friends (which Raiza calls his ‘close allies’ because she was just like that) would hold which positions.
They aimed to make Rawiya the commander of the guards.
Khalid was to succeed Faheem as the representative of the scholars’ tower.
And instead of a Keeper, the plan is for Desmond to form his own council. It would be easy to fill it with his batchmates but Desmond wasn’t exactly completely onboard with that plan as it would look like he was hoarding all of the power, keeping it in an inner circle of those loyal to him.
Raiza had raised an eyebrow at him and asked him how different that was with him being the sole wielder of such power as the lone mentor with no council or Keeper.
That was the point.
Desmond didn’t want to be that kind of mentor.
So Desmond’s task was to finalize his council before he takes on the mantle of mentor.
He was already getting a headache remembering that long term mission of his.
“And… going back to our previous conversation…” Altaïr raised his head to look at Desmond who was standing on a higher step than him, “Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming as well.”
Desmond blinked.
He didn’t expect Altaïr to think the same as he did.
“I never thought I could live this kind of life. A life beyond just being an Assassin.” Altaïr answered and Desmond’s heart ached.
Even without Desmond, he would have learned such a life later in his life.
“Being with you made me understand why father used to wake up in the middle of the night and stare outside of our window.” Altaïr must have noticed the confusion Desmond felt because he explained, “Because if this was a dream and I woke up to find that you’re not by my side…”
“I know I will grieve the same way as he did.” Altaïr admitted, “And maybe… that grief will consume me and make me do everything just to have you as I do in this beautiful dream of ours.”
Desmond tightened his grip on Altaïr’s hand and pulled him lightly. Altaïr stepped closer. Desmond leaned down, their faces just inches away from one another, as Altaïr whispered, “If this is a dream then when I wake up, I’ll do everything to make that reality this very same dream of ours.”
“Altaïr…” Desmond whispered back, “I-”
A door on the floor they were in the middle of walking onto slammed open and they both turned towards the sound.
Faheem was glaring at them, holding his sheathed sword in one hand.
“Go. To. Your. Room.” Faheem ordered as he raised his sword and gripped the hilt with his other hand.
Desmond bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from laughing and quickly dragged Altaïr to the next floor.
They just stepped into the next floor when Faheem heard Altaïr laugh.
“Go to sleep!” Faheem shouted from his floor and Desmond couldn’t stop it anymore.
His laughter mixed with Altaïr’s.
And it was the sweetest music Desmond had ever heard.
It was insane to do this now.
They haven’t even been together for a year…
Then again…
They’ve spent more time apart, writing secret letters to one another.
Those letters helped Desmond see Altaïr for who he was.
Not the man in his memories.
Not the Bleed that carved his place inside him and left a fog when he came to this time.
But the Altaïr in front of him.
Yet here he was.
Hiding who he truly was.
“You know about the secret compartment in my desk, right?”
“I do.” Altaïr answered with a nod as he closed the door while Desmond walked towards the desk.
“But you’d never look inside.” Desmond stated as he turned to smile at him. Altaïr remained standing by the door and Desmond could see that he was acting calm even though he was curious of what Desmond planned to do.
Of course, he would be.
Even if he was curious, Altaïr loved him too much to do anything behind his back.
And here Desmond was…
Keeping the biggest secret in the entire world.
He took off all the wooden carvings and trinkets on top of the compartment before he slid the hutch open. Inside the hidden compartment were his journals, written in the Kanien'kéha language using the Isu script.
He grabbed the journals and walked towards the mountain of pillows, beckoning Altaïr to join him.
Altaïr walked towards him and sat next to him as Desmond opened one of the journals.
It was a little battered and the pages were already showing a bit of wear and tear.
“I started writing this a month after I came here.” He explained as he opened to the first page while scooting closer to Altaïr. Their shoulders bumped and Desmond stayed next to him, letting the journal rest between them.
“Look familiar?” Desmond asked as Altaïr stared at the journal.
“They share the same letters as the one Minerva used.” Altaïr commented.
“That’s right. You would have seen these letters in the memory seals she left behind for me.” Desmond confirmed before he pointed at one of the letters, “This one is pronounced as ‘a’.”
He pointed at the next letter as he continued, “And this is ‘t’. And this…”
“Altaïr.” Altaïr guessed, “You wrote my name…”
He scanned the entire page before he said, “… a lot.”
“I did.” Desmond nodded before reading the first line.
Altaïr frowned as he said, “I’ve never heard that language before. Is that Minerva’s language?”
“No.” Desmond shook his head before explaining, “Her people’s language is more similar to Latin. I used their script but I wrote this in my ancestor’s language, Kanien'kéha.”
“Can you teach me?” Altaïr asked and Desmond grinned.
“Of course.” Desmond nodded before he said, “But, for today… I’ll translate what I wrote nine years ago.”
He traced the first line with his finger as he said, “1181: Altaïr gets his scar from that dick Abbas.”
Altaïr froze.
Desmond glanced at him before he translated every line.
Altaïr was the one who was holding the journal by the time Desmond got to the line, “1190: Altaïr reunites with Adha, the Chalice. She is captured by the Templars and died before Altaïr could save her.”
“1191, June: Altaïr goes to retrieve the Apple with Malik and Kadar. Kadar dies.”
“1191, July: Altaïr returns to Masyaf without the Apple. Malik returns later on with the Apple and the Templars chasing after him. After the battle-”
Altaïr remained quiet as Desmond continued.
The final line of the page read…
“1257, August: Altaïr dies in the library underneath Masyaf alone.”
Altaïr didn’t move when Desmond flipped to the next page.
“1459, June: Ezio Auditore da Firenze is born.” Desmond translated.
Altaïr’s silence was a bit concerning but Desmond knew he needed to keep going.
So he did.
An entire page dedicated to the years Desmond could remember were important to Ezio.
The next page was for both Haytham and Ratonhnhaké:ton.
And then…
The fourth page.
“1987, March…” Desmond’s voice quivered slightly, making Altaïr turn to look at him instead of the journal.
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile void of any joy as he whispered, “Desmond Miles was born.”
Notes:
Again, the explicit scene for this chapter is uploaded to Eagle of Alamut Extra
Eagle of Alamut Extra will also hold non-explicit short stories/drabbles, depending on how I feel. I will say it in this story if I updated it as well XD
Chapter 79
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL.
Edit (08/20/24): ANNOUNCEMENT. I forgot to put this when I first posted this chapter. Next chapter is on August 28, Wednesday as part of my yearly August Birthday Megaposting Bash or whatever I call it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Altaïr had never thought about the future that much.
He had been raised to accept the fact that he could die at any time. That dying to ensure the mission was successful and to accomplish his master’s orders were the greatest honor one can have.
An honor that shall be rewarded after death.
He wasn’t sure if there was truly a life after death. He had stopped believing in a higher being long ago.
But he accepted that death would always follow his every step, waiting for him to make a mistake or to get unlucky enough to grab him and drag him into its cold final embrace.
So he didn’t really think about the far future.
Then he met Desmond.
He didn’t imagine a future with the strange Assassin with such warm hands calling himself ‘Vega’ immediately.
But he started to look forward to seeing him once more.
When they started exchanging letters, he started to look forward to his letter each month.
He started to wish for the day he would receive the next letter to come.
Of that oh so near future.
The more he read about Desmond’s life in Alamut, the more he dreamed of the day that he could see it for himself.
Then…
He started to dream of a future with Desmond.
And he grew greedy.
Now that he was by Desmond’s side, he wanted to dream further and further into the future.
Faheem told him that there was no need to think about having children right now but he already had.
It was a passing thought during one of nights that it was harder to fall asleep after waking up from the slight shuffling coming from Aquila as he slept on his own pillow.
He thought of Desmond’s child with his bright eyes and big smile. Giving affection just as easily as Desmond’s younger brother did and would run towards Altaïr and calling him ‘baba’.
It was a nice thought.
A beautiful dream.
And Altaïr was greedy enough to wish for it to come true.
So all of these…
“I understand if you want time to think about it. I can stay in the aviary for tonight or the room next door. So you don’t have to-”
“Desmond…”
A single name was enough to stop Desmond from speaking as he gripped the journal in his hands tightly.
He had so many questions.
But right now…
He grabbed Desmond’s wrists gently and pulled him closer. He pressed their foreheads together as he whispered, “I’m not him.”
“I know.” Desmond whispered back.
“Good.” Altaïr closed his eyes as he admitted, “I’d rather not be jealous of my own ‘alternate’ self.”
Desmond chuckled weakly.
It wasn’t a joke but, if Desmond thinking it was would get him to finally relax, that was alright too.
“I have so many questions but right now… there is nothing more important to me than you understanding this.” Altaïr opened his eyes as he whispered, “I love you.”
Desmond breath hitched and Altaïr’s lips curved into a smile as he asked lightly, “Why is that so surprising? Wasn’t this your plan? To make me fall so deeply in love with you that I wouldn’t leave even after you told me everything?”
“Well… to be perfectly honest, I just felt like I needed to tell you everything now because…” Desmond sighed as he dropped the journal next to him before entwining their fingers, “I want you to know who I truly am. To see me the real me.”
“I’ve always seen the real you, Desmond.” Altaïr nuzzled their noses briefly before continuing, “Desmond Miles. Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad. Vega. Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III. They are all you.”
Desmond’s lips wobbled and he bit his bottom lip, staring at Altaïr’s golden eyes as he whispered, “And I love every and each part of you. Even the ones I don’t know yet.”
“Altaïr…” Desmond whispered and Altaïr waited for him to say anything else.
He remained quiet.
But that was alright as well.
Altaïr knew that his easy acceptance came as quite a surprise. He couldn’t blame Desmond.
Even Altaïr was a bit surprised by how easy it was to accept all of these.
The dates.
Desmond’s explanation afterwards…
There were many questions he wished to ask.
But the most important one of all was…
“Tell me about Desmond Miles.”
“I already told you…”
“You gave me a summary of his life, sure, but I want more.” Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile as he admitted, “You’ve made me greedy for more than I should have so… indulge me.”
He kissed Desmond’s lips briefly before whispering, “Satisfy my curiosity.”
He kissed his scar before whispering, “And grant me my wish.”
“And what’s your wish, Altaïr?” Desmond whispered back.
“Give me everything that you are, Desmond.” Altaïr answered, closing his eyes as he slowly leaned closer, “Just as I’ve given you my everything as well.”
“Altaïr…”
Whatever Desmond was about to say was silenced as they kissed.
“That is the third sigh I heard from you since we started.”
“Was it? Sorry.”
“I’m not asking for you to apologize. I’m trying to imply that this is the perfect time for you to tell me what’s bothering you.” Adha said, waving her hand at the wall full of papers that Desmond had prepared for their lesson for today, “Unless this wonderful lesson of the history of Alamut is truly what has caused you to sigh ever time you gave me a small question to ponder about for a minute or so.”
Desmond chuckled lightly as he shook his head, “I can say with certainty that history is not the reason why I’m sighing so much.”
Desmond thought about it for a bit before he corrected himself, “Well, not the history of Alamut, anyway.”
Adha placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her palms as she said, “Alright then. Tell me what has gotten you all melancholic just a day after you returned and I’ll decide if the idiot is you or Altaïr.”
“What makes you think this is related to Altaïr?”
Adha simply raised an eyebrow at that stupid question.
“Alright, this is connected to Altaïr.” Desmond sat on the chair across from Adha.
Fuck.
Was he really going to confide to Adha of all people?
The first person who swore she would make fun of them regularly?
“I promise to take this seriously and only make fun of you and Altaïr if it’s actually a stupid reason and you two are just too blinded by love to see it.” Adha proclaimed solemnly.
“Adha…” Desmond said softly before dryly stating, “That would have been perfect if you hadn’t included the last part.”
“Of course it would be…” Adha agreed with a sagely nod before grinning as she added, “But I know you’d prefer it if I was to tell you the whole truth, right?”
“I do.” Desmond answered and sighed once more.
Hypocritical of him since he’d been using fae lies whenever it was convenient.
“Would you like to make a contract for us to sign?” Adha blandly suggested.
Desmond gave her a sweet smile as he snarked, “That’s a good idea. We should take this time to teach you how to make a contract.”
Adha let out a dry laugh as she rolled her eyes before poking Desmond’s shoulder with her right point finger, “Alright, come on. Tell all your woes to your dear Auntie Adha.”
“We’re cousins.” Desmond reminded her dryly.
Seeing Adha raise an eyebrow once more, Desmond sighed (again) before he looked at the open window. Beyond the window, Altaïr would probably be in the training ring, sparring with one of the Assassins.
Or maybe he was with the scholars, listening to one of them and giving his own opinions.
It was surprising how easy Altaïr had adapted to life here in Alamut.
Carving out his own little pockets of ‘places’ while Desmond was busy with his duties and responsibilities.
It was all quite domestic… in their own Brotherhood-y way.
“I told Altaïr everything yesterday. Every secret I had.” Desmond admitted.
“Do I need to kick his ass?” Adha asked, “I can probably get a good kick between the legs if I surprise him. I’ll even get my friends to distract him while I deliver the finishing blow.”
Desmond blinked before saying in a slightly confused tone, “I feel like I should be worried that your first idea is to harm Altaïr but I’m also happy to hear you call your batchmates your friends.”
Desmond chuckled and shook his head as he asked, “And why do you think that Altaïr has done something wrong in the first place anyway?”
“Because you’re…” Adha just waved her hand up and down in Desmond’s direction before continuing, “Why else would you be acting like this if Altaïr didn’t take it all too well and probably said something wrong?”
“Oh, he took it well.” Desmond clarified before sighing, “I mean, he did say that he has a lot of questions and I’m sure I’d be answering them for a while but my confession went well.”
“So why are you sighing and acting like you’ve been dealt with a bad hand?” Adha paused before asking, “Did I use that phrase correctly?”
“Yeah, you did.” Desmond nodded, remembering his silent vow to not ‘invent’ poker.
“So what’s the problem?” Adha pressed with a small frown.
It seemed to her that Altaïr was being understanding so there shouldn’t be any problem.
Right?
“Well…” Desmond pressed his hands together as he said seriously, “You’ve known me for a while now, right?”
“If we start counting after our disastrous first meeting, sure.” Adha nodded as she flippantly answered.
“It wasn’t disastrous.” Desmond frowned as he defended the past for some reason.
“I was angry at the idea of being betrothed to someone not Altaïr and you blatantly told everyone you don’t want me as a wife.” Adha reminded him, “Even if we don’t want to get married to each other, it was still a disaster. An auspicious disaster but a disaster nonetheless.”
“Alright, fine, fine.” Desmond said, not really wanting to argue with Adha about that one. Instead, he focused on the actual topic at hand, “So I’m sure you’re curious about my secrets. If I tell you the truth, you’d probably have a lot of questions afterwards.”
“Suuuureee…” Adha said, not actually sure where this was going. She had an idea of what Desmond’s secret was and she was alright with the fact that Altaïr knew before her.
She expected it anyway.
With the way these two were acting.
Adha didn’t know a more sickening couple.
“But Altaïr…” Desmond closed his eyes and took a deep breath before admitting, “He’s more interested in my childhood.”
Adha blinked as she said in a tone flatter than the ground, “What.”
“Right?” Desmond opened his eyes and banged his hand on the table as he started, “I mean, I told him my greatest secret, a secret that’s like centuries, no, millennia in the making, and we spent the night talking about the place I grew up, the places I’ve been, what I liked, what I did before coming here-”
Adha sighed but remained quiet, letting Desmond rant to his heart’s content.
Once he was done she would tell him that he was an idiot and would hold this over his head for the next couple of days.
Or weeks.
Maybe a month.
She’ll think about it.
“You wish to come with us?” The leader of the Assassins in charge of buying supplies from the town blinked at Altaïr.
“If it’s alright with you, Hameez.” Altaïr said as he watched two recruits prepare the wagon, the younger one being taught by another Assassin along the way.
“That’s fine with me.” Hameez placed a hand on his waist as he asked in a slightly teasing tone, “Why? Getting bored with sparring and listening to scholarly ramblings?”
The way he teased him reminded Altaïr of his younger brother, Rawiya. He heard Rawiya was adopted but, from what Altaïr could see, Rawiya was closer to his family than a lot of families back in Masyaf.
“I will never be bored in such activities. Both of them train my body and mind in different ways.” Altaïr said with a shake of his head before answering, “I heard that a band of merchants has set up shop this week. I’d like to see if they have anything interesting.”
“Well, you’re in luck. We are going to the market today.” Hameez said with a grin, “The fishermen from a nearby village visits us around this time to sell us fresh fish.”
Hameez paused before adding with a shrug, “Well… as fresh as they can be considering how far we are from the nearest river.”
He used his chin to point at the two recruits with them, “We’re going to teach the recruits how to distinguish the fresh ones from the… not fresh ones.”
“Or the ones that are still alright to eat.” Altaïr dryly commented.
“Or that.” Hameez agreed before turning to face Altaïr once more, “I’ll give you a few things we need from the other stalls so you have an excuse to look around.”
“Thank you.” Altaïr nodded at him and followed him as he sat in front of the cart. The recruits all sat at the back while the other Assassin who had been teaching the recruits walk by the side of the cart.
“I can switch with-”
“It’s fine!” The Assassin shouted before Altaïr could finish his suggestion, “I don’t like horses!”
Altaïr raised an eyebrow as he looked back at Hameez who sighed before explaining, “Silas is scared of horses.”
“I’m not scared of them! They’re evil!”
“Is this why he was instructing that recruit to secure the wheels and not doing it himself?” Altaïr asked, a bit curious why someone who was scared of horses would be an Assassin. Then again, he was probably alright with camels.
“They need to learn how to check the wagons before using it!”
“Just nod and agree with him.” Hameez whispered to Altaïr before handing him the reins, “Here. Keep this speed and I’ll prepare the list for you.”
Hameez took out a small piece of paper, a quill and a small bottle of ink from his pouch and began to write while he said, “Did they not give you the fabric we use to cover our faces?”
“They did.” Altaïr kept hold of the reins using one hand and took out the gray fabric from one of his pouches. It was long enough to be tied around his neck but he never needed it so he just folded it and stored it.
“You should cover your face before we get to town.” Hameez grinned as he added, “Unless you want to be stared at and maybe even get a few people asking about your relationship with Desmond?”
“I’d rather not.” Altaïr answered dryly as he tied the fabric around his lower head, covering his nose and mouth.
He glanced at Hameez.
He was right.
Rawiya may have been adopted and it was clear that his older brother didn’t look like him.
But when he grin, Altaïr could see that he shared the same grin as Rawiya’s.
The town was filled with a cacophony of sounds. Colorful stalls all around the market. It was as Desmond described it.
Altaïr wasn’t going to lie.
He would have liked it better if he was to walk around with Desmond by his side but he was busy with his growing duties as the next mentor and with Adha’s lessons.
Also…
Altaïr wanted to see if he could find anything that he would feel like giving to Desmond.
There was no reason for it, to be perfectly honest.
He had received some coins from Faheem as part of one of the new ‘laws’ Desmond had pushed forward.
A salary they called it.
It was just another word for people getting paid for working. It was pretty common but Assassins rarely get paid to do work. Desmond had balked at the practice of ‘free labor’ as he called it.
Altaïr had always assumed it was natural for Assassins to work on the castle and do errands on their day off considering they were given board and food.
But if Desmond wanted to give this ‘salary’ to everyone who worked then Altaïr wasn’t going to stop him.
Altaïr wondered if the word was connected to the word ‘salarium’. It was probably a word from Desmond’s original time.
He would have to ask Desmond later about it.
For now, he walked the stalls with Hameez’s list in his right hand.
He had already memorized the list but, this way, people would see that he was here on a mission.
He would have a bit of time as the others had a bigger list in their hands.
And the recruits were ordered to try and haggle for the prices.
Altaïr had never tried to haggle for anything. That was not one of the things they were taught.
It was one of the things he noticed about the training here in Alamut.
They didn’t just trained them to be an Assassin. They trained them things that would help them in their daily lives.
No.
That wasn’t right.
Masyaf’s training had simply been more limited.
Limited to training them into obedient soldiers.
“Would you like a flower, mister? It’s only one coin!”
Altaïr stopped walking and stared at the small girl offering him a single white flower. Her smile was bright and her hands were marred with a bit of dirt. Her hijab covered her dark brown hair that stuck to her face, wet with sweat.
Altaïr crouched in front of the girl and asked, “One coin for a single flower? That seems a bit too expensive for me.”
The girl stared at him for a moment before grinning, “Okay, I’ll give you two more flowers!”
She picked two more flowers from the small basket she had, a look of complete concentration on her face as she scrutinize each flower before picking the two best looking ones even in Altaïr’s discerning eyes.
She offered it to him with a grin as she said, “All for one coin, mister!”
Altaïr’s lips twitched and he took out five coins as he took the three white flowers. He handed her all five coins as he said, “I’ll take your entire basket.”
Her eyes widened but she didn’t tell him that five coins were too much for her small basket. Instead, she handed the basket to him and grinned, “You’ll love them, mister! I picked the prettiest ones!”
Altaïr grabbed the basket’s handle and stood while the girl covered the coins with both of her hands. She smiled as she said, “Thank you, mister!”
Altaïr nodded at her and watched as she ran towards one of the stalls, slipping inside and talking to the man who was organizing-
Oh.
Considering that was the only stall that sold flowers and he looked like he was around their age.
He must be the florist’s son.
Altaïr walked next to a small group (three men and, from the sounds of it, brothers) just as the little girl pointed at the direction Altaïr had been standing.
Altaïr looked at the basket he now held in his hands.
And all he could think about…
He was definitely more handsome than the florist’s son.
Notes:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know this would usually be the time when the angst goes super hard and it turns from “I need some time” to “this feels like a betrayal and we should take a break” but I want to think that I wrote Altaïr in the past chapters good enough to make his easy acceptance (even though he has a lot of questions atm) believable :)
Chapter Text
Desmond had finished the damn paperwork for today with some time to spare. He was not sad to have learned that Altaïr went to town with the Assassins in charge of the supply run for this month.
Of course not.
Adha was just trying to get under his skin.
With nothing else to do (for once) and still being too early to go the harem for dinner, he decided to participate in the traditions performed by older siblings past, present and future.
He went and decided to bother his younger brother.
Unfortunately for him, he forgot that being the future mentor meant that he was given more preferential treatment.
All he had to do was pop his head into Jalāl’s study room and his younger brother’s instructor decided that Jalāl’s lesson could end right here and now.
Desmond didn’t even have the chance to say that he was just there to observe or something (really, he didn’t have any plans other than popping in by that point) but the instructor just waved it off, saying things like how Jalāl had been studying hard and deserved a break and how it’s not every day that Desmond gets some free time with his younger brother…
Desmond couldn’t even tell him that he usually has lunch with Jalāl and Altaïr.
Jalāl was still shy around Altaïr so he figured eating together would be a good start. He was there so there was less pressure for the two to speak to one another.
Still, Jalāl gave him a bright smile and asked what they were going to do now so…
Desmond decided to walk around Alamut with Jalāl sitting on his shoulders.
He was honestly getting too big for something like this but Jalāl loved it and Desmond could take his weight comfortable… for now.
Also…
He remembered how much he wanted to know how it felt like when he was young. He didn’t have any memories of Desmond Miles’ parents doing this kind of thing.
At the very least, he hoped his brother would remember this when he was older and thinking Desmond was an idiot.
Look at him.
Already thinking of the future where he and his adorable younger brother wouldn’t see eye to eye.
“De! De! Horsy!” Jalāl’s grip on Desmond’s hair tightly before one of his hands let go to point at the gates.
“Easy there, asfoor.” Desmond said gently as he patted the hand still gripping his hair and Jalāl lightened his grip as he asked.
He walked towards the gates, watching as two horses pull a wagon inside. Assassins operated the pulley system to close the gates as soon as the wagon was fully inside. By the time the gates let out a loud sound to signal that it was fully closed, Desmond had reached the wagon.
Four recruits were helping in unloading the wagons while Altaïr jumped off the front, pulling down the gray fabric around his lower face. Hameez handed him an open box that he had to hold with both of his hands. Altaïr nodded at him before walking towards Desmond.
Desmond’s lips curved into a smile as he asked, “Had fun?”
“Yes.” Altaïr answered before confessing, “But the entire time I wished I could have walked the stalls with you.”
Two recruits nearby paused from hauling the boxes to stare at them for a moment before continuing on with reddening faces.
Well, it seemed the people of Alamut were getting used to how the two of them acted around each other.
Desmond was sure that was a good thing but, at the same time, it was kinda embarrassing how the reason why they could get used to this kind of thing was because the two of them acted like this all the time.
“I’ll make some time for us to walk around town.” Seeing everyone nearby turn to stare at him, Desmond’s smile turned sardonic as he added dryly, “Once they stop trying to ask everyone about our relationship.”
“So a decade or so?” Altaïr commented with a small smirk before saying, “I can wait that long.”
Desmond couldn’t help but laugh, remembering the more serious times Altaïr had said such things. He felt Jalāl lean forward and Desmond leaned back to keep their balance as he said gently, “Sit straight, asfoor, or you’re gonna fall.”
“F’ower?” Jalāl asked, still unable to pronounce some words correctly. He tilted his head as he addressed the question to Altaïr.
Altaïr blinked, most probably surprised that Jalāl was directly talking to him. He nodded as he raised the box slightly to make it easier for Jalāl to see the contents inside, “Yes. I bought it when I went to the market in town.”
Desmond looked inside the box, curious of what Altaïr had bought, and his face softened as he said fondly, “I see you bought a lot of books, huh.”
“There were a lot of interesting books being sold. They were more expensive than I expected but the salary I received was enough to buy all of them.”
Desmond blinked.
“Altaïr…” Desmond tilted his head and he could feel Jalāl copying him, “Did you spend all of your salary on books?”
“Was I not supposed to?” Altaïr asked back as he tilted his head as well.
“Oh, no. It’s alright. It’s your money. You can do with it whatever you want.” Desmond answered immediately.
It was alright.
If they needed anything, Desmond had enough savings anyway. Some were hidden in various hidey-holes in his room and all over Alamut.
He also had the money that his parents kept trying to give to him. That one he just left to the one in charge of managing the castle’s treasury to keep track of and for safe keeping.
Not to mention his share of the profits from selling chili oil. Half of which was also with the rest of his savings in the treasury and half hidden in different locations in the mentor’s tower.
If he was to take note of the difference of monetary value between this time period and… say… Ezio’s time…
He could probably buy Monteriggioni if he wanted to.
… when it was in shambles, of course.
He wasn’t that rich.
Still…
“If there’s anything you want to buy, let me know.” Desmond smiled at Altaïr as he said, “I’ll buy them for you.”
Once more, the people around them turned to stare at Desmond for a moment before returning to what they were doing.
Only Rawiya’s older brother, Hameez, who was in charge of the supply run this month let out a loud sigh.
Shit.
He just sounded like a sugar daddy, didn’t he?
Hell, they don’t even know what a sugar daddy was. Why were they looking at him like that???
“I’ll let you know.” Altaïr said with a small smile before raising his head to speak to Jalāl, “Do you like the flowers, Jalāl?”
Jalāl nodded before stopping then shaking his head as he said, “Ish okay. That’s Atti’s.”
“Then how about this…” Altaïr said as he stepped towards them, “I actually don’t know what to do with these flowers. I would appreciate it if you can help me figure out what I can do with these?”
“Oh. Hhhmmmm…” Jalāl stared at the flowers as he tilted his head with a look of absolutely concentration on his face. The longer Jalāl hummed, the more he tilted his head to the right. It was getting a bit dangerous and Desmond was about to tell Jalāl to sit up straight when he said eagerly, “Crowns!”
The fact that Jalāl could say ‘crown’ correctly really says a lot of what he was learning.
“Crowns?” Altaïr asked with a tilt of his head.
“Uh-huh.” Jalāl nodded vigorously before pulling Desmond’s hair, “De! De! Down!”
“Alright, alright.” Desmond chuckled as he patted Jalāl’s knee before going down on one knee. He helped Jalāl get off his shoulders and Jalāl jogged towards Altaïr while Desmond stood. Desmond arched his back and rolled his shoulders while following Jalāl drag Altaïr towards the thermae by clutching his robes.
Inside of entering the thermae, Jalāl led to them one of the large trees next to the thermae. He pulled Altaïr’s robes as he said, “Sit!”
Altaïr glanced at Desmond who was trying not to laugh before sitting down. Jalāl tried to take the box from him but Altaïr knew it would be too heavy for the boy so he asked, “Where should I put it?”
Jalāl pouted before he patted the ground to Altaïr’s left. Altaïr quietly placed the box next to him and Jalāl grabbed the basket of flowers inside. He didn’t bother to say anything and sat on Altaïr’s lap, causing Altaïr to freeze with both hands still up in the air on either side of Jalāl.
Jalāl turned to grin at him, reminding Altaïr of Desmond’s own grin, as he said, “Let’s make crowns!”
Jalāl looked over the flowers inside the baskets, carefully checking each one before picking a white one.
He grabbed Altaïr’s hands and dragged them in front of him as he said, “Like this!”
Altaïr looked unsure of what to do and turned to look at Desmond for help.
And all Desmond could think of was…
It was a complete travesty that cameras weren’t invented yet.
“Oh, look at our precious boys. You two look pretty.” Dvora said, smiling at the two of them as they entered the garden.
“Sorry we’re a little late.” Desmond said at the same time Jalāl ran towards her.
“Mama, mama!” Jalāl stopped before he collided with her leg and raised his head to grin at her. He raised his arms and offered her a flower crown made of vibrant red flowers, “Here! Atti an’ me made it!”
“Atti… Oh.” Dvora crouched and lowered her head as she asked, “Could you please put it on me, sweet child?”
“Okay!”
Jalāl placed the flower crown on Dvora’s head with pouting lips and furrowed brows. After placing it on top of her head, he lightly pushed the side until it was as straight as he could make it. Once he was satisfied, he grinned as he said, “Done!”
Dvora raised her head to smile at him as she said, “Thank you, habibi.”
“Are our own flower crowns in that basket?”
Desmond turned his attention away from Jalāl talking about how he taught ‘Atti’ how to make flower crown and nodded at Nur who approached him, “Yes.”
He took out a flower crown made of yellow flowers and offered it to Nur, “Here’s yours. Jalāl and Altaïr made them. Well… Altaïr made them under Jalāl’s supervision.”
“I see.” Nur glanced at Jalāl before turning her attention back to Desmond as she asked, “And are the crowns on your head ones made by your brother and consort as well?”
Desmond didn’t let the not-exactly-accurate title Nur used for Altaïr get to him, instead placing a gentle hand to touch the flower crown on his head with his fingertips.
His crown was made with red and white flowers. It was messier than the others, having been the first crown that Altaïr made with Jalāl’s instructions.
Jalāl’s crown, on the other hand, was vibrant with many colors, made by Desmond on his own while Jalāl was teaching Altaïr. He had been, after all, the one who taught Jalāl how to make flower crowns.
It was one of the few peaceful things Desmond Miles’ mother taught him.
These were more beautiful though, made using flowers gently cared for by the florist family in town instead of wildflowers he found in the forest outside the Farm.
“It is.” Desmond answered instead, smiling as he shook the crown in his hand gently as he repeated, “And this is yours.”
Nur smiled back and bowed slightly as she leaned forward. Desmond chuckled and placed the crown on her head, making sure it wasn’t wonky before saying, “Done.”
“Thank you, dear child.”
She straightened up and stepped to the side. Desmond’s lips twitched when Raiza immediately turned away and pretended to be reading.
He knew she was watching them the entire time.
He chuckled and shook his head as he said, “Excuse me, mother. I have one more crown to deliver.”
“Of course.” Nur said with a mischievous smile, patting Desmond’s arm as he walked pass her.
Desmond turned around to grin at her before walking to where Raiza was resting with Bennu on his usual spot, resting on a pillow next to Raiza.
Bennu acknowledged him first, letting out an annoyed cry as he showed Desmond his left wing.
Desmond’s lips curved into an amused smile as he said, “I’m afraid I can’t do anything about my daughter-in-law, old man. I think you should take this as a sign to retire as the master of the aviary.”
He was sure Bennu showed his left wing because Maud had attacked it with her talons but she never harmed the older eagle hard enough to make him bleed.
Just… the eagle equivalent of ‘squeal’.
Desmond was pretty sure Aquila got his drama queen tendencies when he’s in pain from Bennu.
He scratched the eagle’s neck for a moment before kneeling in front of Raiza and offering the final crown from the basket, made of light blue flowers.
Jalāl had been a bit disappointed that they couldn’t find a similar color to Raiza’s usual outfit but it was the most beautiful of the three final crowns they made, showing Altaïr’s mastery.
“A present from your younger son and son-in-law.” Desmond presented.
Raiza closed the book she was pretending to be reading and turned to look at him as she said, “Oh? Are you finally admitting that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad is your consort?”
He saw her eyes flickered to whatever was behind him and he could guess what Nur and Dvora were trying to silently tell her.
Raiza’s grip on the book in her hands tightened for a moment before she said, “Thank you for delivering such a beautiful crown, Desmond.”
The funny thing about Raiza was that she was being honest right now.
It just so happened saying the wrong words came more natural to her.
His father admitted that he found that side of her adorable. Desmond didn’t bother to say anything and just nodded along.
Raiza lowered her head and Desmond placed the crown on her as he said lightly, “You should thank Jalāl. He helped make this.”
“Of course.” Raiza raised her head once Desmond dropped his hands and added, “Please do convey my gratitude to your consort as well.”
“I will.” Desmond grinned at her as he said, “I’ll make sure he knows how much you liked it.”
Raiza stared at him for a moment before leaning back as she said, “Dinner will be served shortly. Take you brother and clean up before we eat.”
“Alright.” Desmond stood and walked towards Jalāl who was now telling Nur how he helped Altaïr make the flower crown.
His lips twitched when he saw Raiza touch the flower crown on her head from the periphery of his vision.
“Welcome back.”
It was a simple sentence.
A common phrase.
Yet…
Desmond never really heard it all that much.
Growing up on the Farm, he would always return home with his parents.
In New York, he would come home to an empty apartment.
But here…
“Desmond?”
Desmond closed the door and walked towards the desk where Altaïr was reading the first of his journals. He knelt in front of Altaïr and rested his head on his lap as he said, “I’m back…”
Such simple words.
But it meant more to Desmond than he could ever truly convey.
He felt Altaïr take out the crown from his head and caress his hair as he asked gently, “How was dinner?”
Desmond chuckled as he turned his head to rest his chin on Altaïr’s kneecap as he said, “It was good. The worst thing to happen was our father turning the water works to show how sad he is that he didn’t get a flower crown.”
“Water works… tears?” Altaïr guessed, making Desmond pull away slightly to nod. He pressed his side against Altaïr’s knee and draped his arms on Altaïr’s lap as Altaïr said, “We could have given him the crown you made for me.”
“Nah.” He looked at the desk where Altaïr had placed his crown right next to his own. One that Desmond made using white and red flowers.
Side by side, it was clear that Desmond’s crown had more red flowers while Altaïr’s had more white flowers on it.
“I made it for you.” Desmond raised his head to smile at him, “My father can deal with not having a crown for tonight. We’ll go pick up some flowers from the courtyard and make him one tomorrow.”
“I understand.” Altaïr answered with a nod, his expression the same one he usually had whenever he received a new mission.
He looked at the trinkets on top of the desk and noticed they had been arranged the same way he had placed them before.
Except for one.
A wood carving of an eagle that Desmond had whittled himself when he was in Lambsar Castle.
“Is this your sign for me?” Desmond pointed at the eagle carving.
“Yes.” Altaïr answered, caressing Desmond’s head, “It’s only right for you to know that I touched your possession.”
“What’s mine is yours, Altaïr.” Desmond said as he raised his head to smile at him, “My room in the castle has these empty bookcase. It’s pretty nice. Jalāl can confirm they’re sturdy as hell.”
Desmond frowned a bit as he was reminded of that heart-stopping moment when he feared Jalāl was going to fall after he climbed those damn bookcases before focusing on his conversation with Altaïr, “I’ll get help from the recruits and have it transferred to our room so you have a place to store your books.”
“Thank you, Desmond. And…” Altaïr leaned forward and Desmond turned to face him fully as he continued to kneel. Their lips touched just as Desmond wrapped his arms around Altaïr’s neck.
Desmond sighed as Altaïr deepened his kiss.
Only to gasp when he felt something on his neck.
Altaïr pulled away and whispered, “Books and flowers aren’t the only things I bought today.”
Desmond looked down and touched the pendant that Altaïr had secured around his neck.
It looked like a mini astrolabe made of some kind of metal.
The astrolabe didn’t move at all.
“I wish for you to think of this as a reminder of your promise to me.” Altaïr whispered as he covered Desmond’s hands.
“My promise?”
“That your time belongs to me.” Altaïr said with a smile.
Desmond’s eyes widened for a moment before his expression turned soft.
“Of course.” Desmond let go of the pendant and pulled Altaïr closer as he whispered, “My time is forever yours, Altaïr.”
Notes:
As part of this year's August Birthday Megaposting (Averageposting) Bash, together with this fic, I've posted:
- an extra chapter of Eagle of Alamut
- A Desmond-centric oneshot based on Punishing Gray Raven (no prior knowledge about PGR needed)
- A short pwp of Desmond Miles x Michael Myers (yeah, that Michael Myers)
Chapter 81
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Chapter Text
Desmond didn’t expect the last two weeks to be this peaceful, all things considered. He expected the other teams to return this week with the team he sent to Masyaf returning first since their mission could be counted as the shortest.
‘Case the joint, take any evidence that we might need then leave’.
Well, he didn’t exactly say that but that was as clear of a summary as Desmond could make.
Their return route was less optimal though as it added a day to their travels but that was by design. If they were being pursued and they didn’t know it, their return route would hopefully help them shake off their quiet pursuers. If they were chased out of Masyaf though, they were required to take a more direct route.
Returning to Alamut alive was the most important thing. They’d deal with any fallout with Masyaf if necessary.
So he expected the last two weeks to be at least a little bit hectic, preparing for Masyaf’s retaliation and such.
But no. Everything was as peaceful as a castle filled with Assassins could be.
The most hectic thing that happened these past two weeks was Desmond working overtime to return his neverending war against the paperwork into a zero-sum game.
He knew the paperwork would pile while he was away. Whenever he was on the field, his father would take care of the urgent ones while Khalid helped clear the ‘not urgent enough to land on his father’s desk but sorta urgent enough that it needed to be taken care of now’ paperwork.
With Khalid out on a mission as well and Khalid’s (and technically Desmond’s) substitute Peredur also with him in the same mission, there really wasn’t anyone to take care the paperwork that was being left on his desk. His father only took care of the actually urgent ones and he also ignored anything that concerned reports with lots of numbers if he was sure they weren’t urgent.
Those gave both of them a headache as they took too much time to ensure nothing was out of place.
Realizing just how much paperwork would accumulate in a few days without Khalid and Peredure to take care of some of them made Desmond realize he needed another ‘substitute’.
It couldn’t be Altaïr though since he was sure Altaïr would follow him most of the time.
… not all the time.
Dear god, Desmond could hear the doubt in his own mind at that thought.
Also, Altaïr didn’t deserve the scrutiny that would come after looking over those paperwork. He was getting the respect of the Assassins on the field but the older ones who had more time in their hands with their heads stuck in the sand were going to look for mistakes even when there wasn’t going to be any in the first place.
That wasn’t what Desmond was worried about.
Desmond was worried about what came after because he knew Altaïr enough to know he wasn’t going to keep it lying down. He’d definitely say something that would rile up the instigators of that wild goose chase, whether intentionally or not was a question that wouldn’t count as important in the ‘grand scheme of things’. The problem would be the fact that it would cause a friction between Altaïr and one of the older Assassins and the Brotherhood still hold their elders in high regards, regardless of how annoying or stupid said elder could be.
Desmond wasn’t going to jeopardize Altaïr’s growing relationship with the others just because he wanted some help with the paperwork.
So Altaïr was definitely out of the possible ‘substitutes’.
Desmond had to take Rawiya out of the running as well. Mainly because Rawiya was usually patrolling at night. Desmond wasn’t going to let him tire himself out with paperwork after his patrols. Also…
Desmond knew one of the reasons why Rawiya always refused any promotion sent his way was because he didn’t want to deal with the ‘managerial side’ that came with the new rank he would be given.
Most Master Assassins in Masyaf would be in the field and Desmond wasn’t sure if they had to take care of paperwork or all of those were done by the Rafiq. Here in Alamut, Assassins were required to file reports of their own missions which would be compared to the reports sent by the Rafiqs.
If there were any discrepancies, it was up to Desmond to get to the bottom of things.
Desmond wanted to curse Ezio. He would have appreciated it if Ezio had given him some memories of having to deal with the neverending paperwork so he could have prepared himself and thought of a way to alleviate such… grueling (equally important) task.
Then again…
When Ezio was the mentor, Machiavelli seemed to have left the field all together.
That’s it!
He needed to find his own Machiavelli who he could completely trust to take care of the paperwork!
No.
He needed two more.
Khalid could take care of the less urgent ones with Peredur substituting if necessary.
He needed two more to take care of the non-urgent ones, have them split these between themselves and-
Wait.
Was this the reason why Rashid had a council?
Did the council take care of the tedious stuff for him so he could plan and scheme the day away???
There was only one person who could answer his question.
It was a peaceful uneventful day.
Such tranquility was a rarity these days.
That was why Faheem was immediately on alert.
It was during this sort of time that something was bound to happen.
The last time he had more than an hour of peace was five days ago. A team of researchers from the scholar tower charged his office to request an increase on their budget because Altaïr suggested researching the powder Desmond and Khalid were using for their… ‘experiments’ and see if it would help them recreate the supposed invincible flames the Greeks of old used.
That team wasn’t even researching weaponry in the first place!
So Faheem was definitely on edge.
Khalid and Peredur were away.
Which meant the cause of the next small chaos that would befall him would either be Altaïr or-
“Faheem?” The familiar voice served to validate Faheem’s thoughts.
The three knocks were unnecessary though.
He could just enter if he wanted to.
“It’s open.” Faheem said as he looked away from the ridiculous budget increase proposal that last week’s cha- research team had given him once he told them that he needed the proper documents to even consider anything.
Desmond opened the door quietly and Faheem was not impressed. He made sure that door creaked and complained at even the slightest breeze.
It was given that Desmond, the next mentor, should still be able to silence such a door.
And no.
He was just going to ignore how ʾAʿlā Muḥammad always opened his door with a creak so loud Faheem was sure it could be heard two floors above and below his office.
ʾAʿlā Muḥammad had always preferred to be the least Assassin-like mentor to have ever graced Alamut and Faheem didn’t even know if it was his way of making himself less of a target by confusing people or he just, as Desmond once said, liked to mess with people in general.
Desmond also suggested it was a way to say ‘fuck you’ to the previous mentor and Faheem wasn’t even surprised that Desmond knew how strained his father and grandfather’s relationship had been.
“Hey, you have a minute?” Desmond asked as he remained on the other side of the door.
Faheem did not have a minute.
He needed to read this proposal then check in with the Assassin in charge of keeping Khalid’s ‘workshop’ (table) secure. He wouldn’t put it pass scholars who had been struck with inspiration to not do something stupid and give him excuses like they were just trying it out, just a tiny bit.
Faheem would have to check with Oded afterwards to request another Assassin be stationed at all times there until he was certain those idiots wouldn’t do anything stupid because they got impatient.
Spoiled little brats, the lot of them.
“Faheem?”
Seeing the curious expression on Desmond’s face meant nothing to Faheem. The boy could control his expression quite well… unless it concerned Altaïr.
Oh, Faheem could feel another headache approaching his aging body.
These two would push him to an early retirement, that was for sure.
Desmond was curious, of course, but Faheem knew him enough to know that he was a bit hesitant in taking his time.
Faheem noticed Desmond always assumed people wouldn’t have time for him unless it was for something gravely important.
“Yes, Desmond. I have some time to spare.” Faheem answered as he dropped the document he had been reading on the table, next to his cup of cooling tea.
He’d take this time to take a break since Desmond told him before that he should take a few short breaks during the day as he was, as Desmond said, a workaholic far worse than him and his father.
Desmond entered the room and closed the door behind him just as quietly as he had opened it before walking towards the desk. He sat on the chair placed on the other side of the desk and asked, “Did you take care of the paperwork for Rashid back in Masyaf?”
Faheem knew this day would come.
Sooner or later, it was bound to happen.
“I am not going to take care of the supply reports and budget proposals.” Faheem immediately stated solemnly.
“I wasn’t going to give them to you anyway.” Desmond dryly answered without missing a beat before asking once more, “So I was right? Rashid had his council take care of the paperwork?”
“Yes.” Faheem answered with a nod before explaining, “I’m not completely sure if my guess is right but I believe that Rashid thought about dividing the work because of how ʾAʿlā Muḥammad’s father had him and ʾAʿlā Muḥammad take care of some of his paperwork while he was in Alamut.”
Faheem waved his hand a bit as he said casually, “He must have had enough of paperwork once he was in Masyaf and decided that it was better to just let others take care of most of them.”
Faheem crossed his arms and leaned back as he continued, “Part of the council’s tasks were figuring out which ones we can take care of and which ones should be taken to him. That was the most annoying-”
Faheem paused before amending himself, “No. The most annoying ones were the supply and budget proposals for both Masyaf and the bureaus. Any documents concerning expenses were also annoying.”
“Right?” Desmond agreed with a nod of a man that had seen enough numbers to last him three lifetimes. Desmond tilted his head as he asked next, “So what does Rashid do?”
Faheem blinked, unable to hide the fact that Desmond’s question had caught him off-guard.
“What do you mean?” Faheem asked with furrowed brows.
“If he’s not neck deep in paperwork, how does he spend his day?” Desmond asked with a graveness that did not suit their current topic. Desmond rubbed his chin as he thought out loud, “His bones will probably break if he trains-”
“He’s not that old.” Faheem commented, not understanding how he had come to ‘defend’ Rashid of all people.
“Okay so does he train on his free time?” Desmond challenged with a roll of his eyes. Faheem’s silence answered Desmond’s question so he sarcastically asked, “Does he just scheme and plan the day away?”
Faheem sighed before admitting, “I wouldn’t know for certain what he does while the council take care of the tedious things for him but he does listen to the reports of the Assassins who performed important missions. He also personally brief them on their mission if its deemed important. Other than that…”
Faheem dropped his hands and rested them on the desk as he added, “I suppose he reads? His primary office is in the library of Masyaf and that’s usually where you’ll find him.”
Desmond’s raised eyebrow showed how much he believed the possibility that Rashid just spent his days ‘reading’.
Faheem sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he admitted, “Fine. He probably spend much of his time planning but-”
Faheem lowered his hand as he added, “Even Rashid would not spend his entire time doing such thing. He’s not that-”
Faheem stopped and looked away with a grim expression on his face.
Well, this was awkward.
Desmond stared at him for a moment before he rubbed the back of his neck.
Desmond understood that Faheem would still have problems calling Rashid ‘evil’. Desmond himself didn’t want to call anyone evil.
Even if it was Rashid.
People were simply too complex to be placed inside small neat boxes called ‘good’ and ‘evil’. To place them so easily into one of these boxes felt like it was undermining the free will everyone possesses.
Desmond was sure that this sort of thing deserved a long discussion.
But Desmond didn’t really want to talk about such deep topics right now. He had simply been here to check if his guess was correct.
And it was.
He supposed the fact that Masyaf had a council was the reason why Altaïr could spend so much time researching the Apple.
… and also go on a ‘long’ jou-
Oh.
“If we have a council I can travel the world with Altaïr.” Desmond mumbled as he looked at the paperwork still on Faheem’s desk.
Faheem’s expression turned to one of annoyance and resignation. He stood as he said, “My break is over. I will return to my work now. Please leave.”
Desmond wanted to smile at how stilted his words were but simply stood.
He’d give Faheem a break from his regular suffering.
For now.
Faheem would probably reject any request to become part of Desmond’s council but that was fine.
He would still be the administrator of the scholar’s tower so he was bound to be part of the council one way or another.
It was inevitable.
“Grown tired listening to the ravings of the scholars?”
“Their ‘ravings’ are quite fascinating.” Altaïr said and Oded’s lips curved into a barely noticeable smile.
Altaïr knew that Oded was slightly insulting the scholars. Not out of malice but something akin to teasing. Altaïr didn’t feel the need to defend the scholars though. They may not be familiar with the weapons an Assassin wields but a lot of them do know how to defend themselves. A few of them even wielded a more powerful tool at their disposal.
The knowledge they gained which they could use to defend themselves or to attack those they wanted.
Altaïr knew that Faheem’s main job as what could amount to the ‘head’ of the scholar’s tower was to ensure that the scholars were safe and cared for. But Altaïr also knew that the reason why an Assassin was given such a position since Alamut opened their doors to these scholars of different pasts and personalities was to ensure that nothing in the tower would be use to harm the Brotherhood and the people of this land.
But because of this, Faheem held no real interest with any of the research done in the tower that extended past his responsibility and duty.
Respectful disinterest was the best way to remain impartial in Faheem’s eyes.
Altaïr, on the other hand, enjoyed listening to them. It reminded him back when he was a child, listening to the scholars in Masyaf as they taught him different things, many of which he didn’t truly understand but he enjoyed listening to them nonetheless. They used the time they could have had to humor a lonely child who didn’t even realize he was lonely instead of continuing with their research, prolonging the time they needed to have a breakthrough.
So yes, Altaïr was quite fond of scholars. His desire to keep learning stemmed from those days.
“I heard that Adha’s batch will be having their mock battle today.” Altaïr said as he stood next to Oded. The training ring was empty save for a batch of younger recruits cleaning it. Three were in the ring, sweeping the sand and making it as even as they could. The other recruits were cleaning and organizing the blunt weapons they used in training.
“Yes. The mock battle will start once the ring is ready.” Oded answered with a nod, eyes completely trained at the recruits. Altaïr didn’t stand in front of Oded because he knew that the man would want to keep an eye on the recruits, to both ensure they do a good job and that they wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize either themselves or the others who would be using the ring later.
Altaïr had seen Rauf do the same thing back in Masyaf. Altaïr didn’t understand why Rauf decided to confide to him about his worries of becoming the next main instructors of the recruits but Altaïr hadn’t mind listening to him.
Rauf had smiled when Altaïr simply told him that he was chosen as the next instructor because they saw the effort he’d given and the skills he had. Altaïr didn’t understand why such a simple observation helped but if that was enough for Rauf then Altaïr wasn’t going to question it.
“Altaïr?” Oded’s voice pulled Altaïr from his musing, causing Altaïr to turn to him.
“It would be a team match, right?” Altaïr asked, having heard it from one of the recruits who had been tasked with cleaning the scholar’s tower this morning.
“Yes, three members each team.” Oded confirmed with a nod. He glanced at Altaïr before returning his focus on the recruits as he asked, “Do you wish to join as well?”
“No.” Altaïr turned to face the training ring, “They need to get used to fighting as a team for now. If I was to join, they’d be too worr-”
Altaïr paused, remembering Desmond’s apprentice and cousin who enjoyed teasing the both of them.
“Adha would take leadership and order everybody around just to annoy me.” Altaïr dryly corrected, making Oded’s lips twitch.
“That does sound like something she would do.” Oded nodded before asking, “Then I suppose you’d like to watch the match?”
“Yes. If you’d allow it.” Altaïr replied as he turned to face Oded once more.
“Everyone is free to watch the match, Altaïr. There is no need for you to ask permission.” Oded said calmly before adding, “But if you’re worried your presence would distract them, many of our brothers watch from the rooftops and the tower. I’m sure they’d love to watch the match with you.”
Altaïr frowned.
They’d ‘love’ to be in his presence?
Altaïr wasn’t entirely sure about that.
Then again, the Assassins here weren’t raised to think of Altaïr as-
Altaïr’s thoughts came to a halt when he heard a bell ringing. It sounded like it came from the main gates that kept Alamut away from the outside world.
Before long, other bells began to rang.
Desmond had informed him of what the ringing meant.
An Assassin had returned with a grave injury.
Chapter 82
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Chapter Text
It wasn’t the first time the bells had been rung to inform everyone that an Assassin had returned with grave injury.
It was a risk all Assassin took whenever they leave for their mission.
Desmond himself had heard that bell ring six times since he came to this time.
Out of those six, none of them died because Alamut knew what to in case this was to happen. His father took the title of doctor seriously and, in many ways, it came more natural to him to be a doctor than pretend to be the mentor of Alamut.
“An Assassin is approaching! It’s Rawiya!” One of the Assassins guarding the third gate shouted as the gates opened.
Desmond stood next to his father as Rawiya jumped off his horse, letting one of the other Assassins grabbed his stead to calm him down.
Rawiya went down on one knee in front of them, less as a sign of respect and more of his sudden movements causing him to lose his balance.
“It’s Amir’s team.” Rawiya informed them as quickly but precisely as he could.
Desmond’s brows furrowed.
Amir’s team was sent to Jerusalem. Out of all the teams, Desmond expected the teams sent to Jerusalem and Acre to return the latest considering the amount of information they would have to sift through.
“They’re stationed in the ruins nearby.” Rawiya continued, “One of our patrols saw the colored smoke they used-”
“Colored smoke?” Diya al-Dīn repeated and Desmond saw Altaïr following Oded as they reached the main plaza. Altaïr stayed with Oded and the rest of the Assassins, listening as Diya al-Dīn asked, “Were you the one that rang the bell, Rawiya?”
“Yes, sir. I saw the patrol as they were returning and they’re still outside. They told me what has happened from the other side of the gate.” Rawiya’s grim expression did not suit him at all, “I ordered them to remain outside because…”
“They’re sick.” Diya al-Dīn stated calmly, making Rawiya nod at him as he looked away.
Desmond’s eyes widened.
Diya al-Dīn didn’t say it explicitly but…
Desmond knew what he meant by ‘sick’.
He meant that there was a chance it was contagious.
The bell had never been rung to proclaim a sickness that could be contagious but it was the right move. They didn’t have a separate way to alert everyone of a possible contagious sickness.
And that was why…
Anyone who has had contact with the Jerusalem team must not enter Alamut.
“I understand. Keep all the gates closed.” Diya al-Dīn ordered, “I need volunteers to come with me outside. We’ll take the patrol left outside with us as well.”
“I’ll come with you.” Desmond said immediately.
“No.” Diya al-Dīn turned to face him as he ordered firmly, “You will remain here and take over all my duties until this is settled.”
“What?” Desmond took a step back, surprised by the finality in his father’s words.
“If it is truly contagious then we cannot risk both of us becoming sick.” His father explained, “Someone must stay to lead the Brotherhood in protecting everyone.”
“Then I’ll go ins-” Desmond halted as he felt his father place a hand on his shoulder.
“What our people out there needs is a doctor.” Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “And we all know that your skills at healing pales when compared to mine.”
“But…” Desmond wanted to deny it but…
He knew that his father was right.
He only knew basic first aid that he learned on the Farm. Even after working as Diya al-Dīn’s assistant when he still thought of the man as just the castle doctor, his knowledge was no match to his father.
He could study medicine for a decade and it still wouldn’t be enough to catch up.
But he still…
“I volunteer.”
Desmond’s eyes widened as he turned to look at the crowd.
Altaïr stepped forward with his hands behind him as he repeated, “I volunteer to join the team leaving Alamut.”
Altaïr glanced at Desmond before adding, “As Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III’s representative.”
“You don’t have to go.”
Normally, Altaïr would have enjoyed hearing such words coming from Desmond. Parting with him in any way would always feel like a tragedy.
… Perhaps Adha was right in saying that he was what she called a ‘drama queen’ (a word that she apparently learned from Desmond).
“I may not be as knowledgeable as you in terms of medicine but I can still be of help.” Altaïr calmly said as he packed a small bag he would bring with him. They said to pack at least five sets of clothes just in case and anything he might want to bring but they also said to pack light. He packed his robes, of course, and now…
He was looking at the nearly empty bookcase that a few recruits brought in two weeks ago. He would have never thought about owning a bookcase of his own. He was so used to simply reading what books he could borrow in Masyaf’s library or the bureaus.
It was already a rarity for him to have the time to read books during his missions if they were to bring him to a place that would allow him to even spend just a minute or so of peace.
And now…
He was looking forward to receiving his next paycheck and returning to the market to see if there was anything he could buy as a gift for Desmond or if there were any traveling merchants with books that would catch his eyes.
He wanted to feel that moment of happiness after feeling the weight of the book in his hand after purchasing it again
He wanted to feel that warmth of seeing Desmond smile again.
And to ensure that future would happen over and over again…
“If anything, I can at least help keep your father safe.” Altaïr continued as he turned to look at Desmond.
He would always grieve his parent’s death and, if he could help it, he would do everything he can to prolong the day that Desmond would lose his own.
He opened his mouth to say more but his words failed him when he saw the expression Desmond was making.
“That’s not-” Desmond rubbed his face and let out a tired sigh. He stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on Altaïr’s cheek as he said, “I don’t want you in danger as well, Altaïr.”
Altaïr leaned into his touch, listening as Desmond continued, “It’s bad enough that my father is going into the thick of it and now you’re going with him too. I-”
Desmond dropped his hand at the same time as he looked at the floor, “I don’t want to lose either of you and-”
Desmond raised his head to stare at Altaïr as he continued, “Here you are, prioritizing my father’s safety over your own.”
Altaïr blinked.
Oh.
He had been so focused on doing what he believed he could to keep Desmond from worrying over his father that he didn’t think of how his recklessness had only made Desmond worry about him as well.
“I’m sorry, Desmond.” Altaïr placed his hand on the side of Desmond’s neck as he pressed his forehead against his, “I never intended to worry you over my safety.”
“I will always worry about your safety, Altaïr.” Desmond mumbled as he closed his eyes. His nose touched Altaïr’s as he whispered, “It’s not because I think you can’t take care of yourself. I will always worry even if I know you can take on an entire army by yourself because I love you.”
He opened his eyes as he said, “Worrying about someone is a part of loving them.”
“While I do not believe I can defeat an entire army by myself, I am honored that you think so.” Altaïr said with a small smile before closing his eyes as he said, “Then I shall make a promise to you.”
“I will not do anything rash and will endeavor to protect your father without putting my own life in danger.” Altaïr promised softly.
And sealed it with a kiss.
Since they didn’t know what kind of sickness it was, including how it spread or how long before things become dire, Diya al-Dīn ordered that the volunteers travel in two groups. The first group would include him and an escort to ensure his safety. They would be joined by the patrol left outside and travel to the ruins to check on the severity of the sickness. Altaïr was also placed in this group after he stubbornly said he was going.
Diya al-Dīn would commend the man for being unafraid to show that he was doing this to calm Desmond’s worries over his father’s health but…
They had to include three more Assassins who weren’t necessary keen in volunteering because they believe that this would be the best time to kill Diya al-Dīn and place Desmond on the ‘throne’.
They were there to keep an eye on Altaïr and they had no plans to hide it.
Diya al-Dīn knew how stupid that was but Altaïr simply agreed to the added scrutiny and he knew his son’s (unofficial) consort enough to know that it was less of a political move and more of Altaïr knowing that things would proceed faster if he just agreed.
Altaïr didn’t really care about the political side of the Brotherhood and Desmond was barely any better.
That was why Diya al-Dīn knew that Jalāl would have to grow up being the one to think of such things.
Diya al-Dīn just hoped Jalāl wouldn’t mind it when he grew up.
The second group will travel once they receive word of what they needed to bring. An additional team might be sent out to trace back the steps the patients took and see if the sickness spread in their route. Diya al-Dīn’s group would only take what they believe was necessary to check and help everyone be comfortable in the ruins with supplies to last three days just in case.
Just as they were about to leave, Diya al-Dīn saw Altaïr speak to his eagle.
The strong-willed daughter that they feared had died years ago.
How funny it was to learn that she had found Altaïr and taken him in as her human.
Had things been different, she would have probably been Jalāl’s eagle.
Then again, she would have been quite old by then and Jalāl may not have been able to connect with her the way Altaïr was learning to.
A small chirp caused him to turn to face his horse, smiling when he saw Bennu looking down at him.
If they had time, he would have loved to see them before leaving but there had been many things that he needed to oversee before they departed.
They would be fine.
Even if…
No.
He cannot think that.
He gently touched the side of Bennu’s neck as he whispered.
“I’ll be back. I promise.”
Altaïr had only seen the ruins once. They traveled past it when Desmond and Adha returned to Alamut with him.
No one said anything about the ruins’ past but, from the remains he had seen, Altaïr would guess it used to be a village of some sort. Whether the villagers left to live in Alamut Castle that was close by or if something else happened, Altaïr wasn’t sure.
As Diya al-Dīn expected, the team were using what remained of the village as some sort of cover, staying in largest home.
“Mentor…” Amir greeted them with wide eyes, “Why are you-”
He glanced at the cart behind them before saying, “Please return to the castle, mentor. It’s not too late-”
“We don’t know that.” Diya al-Dīn handed the reins of his horse to the guard to his right before getting off the trained stead that remained still, “We don’t know how this sickness spreads. For all we know, we have all been infected the moment we got here.”
Amir’s dread and guilt were clear on his face even through the unnatural paleness and dark marks under his eyes as he said, “I’m sorry, mentor. We should have-”
“You did the right thing.” Diya al-Dīn paused before adding, “Well, there’s a possibility that you may have infected people during your travels but we will deal with the possible ramification of that once we’ve healed all of you.”
Diya al-Dīn covered his face with the fabric around his neck and placed a hand on Amir’s shoulder as he said, “Besides, it’s my duty to care for my people. I will not abandon you in your time of need.”
He dropped his hand as he continued, “Show me where everyone is. We will examine them.”
“We?” Amir repeated and Altaïr stepped forward quietly, having gotten off his own horse while they were talking. Half of his face was covered by the same cloth he used to try and hide his identity back at the market weeks ago.
Amir’s expression turned to one of resignation and worry as he recognized Altaïr’s golden eyes, “Please be careful, both of you. I cannot bear the thought of how I will ever be able to face Desmond if something was to happen to either of you.”
“And I’m sure Desmond would feel the same way about your wife if something was to happen to you.” Diya al-Dīn reminded him and Amir gave him a helpless smile. Diya al-Dīn patted his shoulder as he said, “So let’s all do what we can to prevent both from happening, alright?”
“Yes, mentor.” Amir bowed as he said, “Thank you for not abandoning us.”
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “Now I feel like we’re just going in circles. Let’s go inside and see what we can do for everyone.”
“Of course.” Amir stood and opened the door for them.
Diya al-Dīn turned to look at the other volunteers and said, “Begin with your tasks, everyone.”
“Yes, mentor.” They bowed before moving without anyone telling them what to do. Some of them began to take off the boxes and jugs of water they brought off the wagon they were using. Some took large pieces of clean fabric that would be used to cover the roof in case of a sudden downpour. A few began to walk away in small groups of two to check the perimeter.
Diya al-Dīn glanced at Altaïr before turning to walk towards the door as he asked, “If I order you-”
“I will remain by your side.” Altaïr cut him off, making Diya al-Dīn chuckle softly. His two guards stood on either side of the door as they went inside while Altaïr said, “I might not be as knowledgeable in medicine so use me as an errand boy if you’d like.”
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a small smile at the reminder of his son’s chosen profession when he started to live in Alamut all those years ago.
He was sure Altaïr would do a fine job as his errand boy. Considering his insatiable desire for knowledge, he was sure this-
His musing came to a halt as he counted the number of people inside.
“Amir…” Diya al-Dīn continued to stare at what could be half a dozen people in such a cramped room, “Did you take the entire Jerusalem bureau with you?”
“Only those who were showing the same symptoms like us.” Amir explained, “The rest remained in Jerusalem to continue their duties.”
“What do we know?” Diya al-Dīn asked as they walked further inside.
Altaïr took out a small journal that Diya al-Dīn gave them before they left and began to write while Amir answered, “It starts off slow. Tiredness and dizziness that we can just ignore at first. Then we started to vomit and shitting multiple times in a day-”
“And your feces?” Diya al-Dīn interjected.
“Watery and has a greenish color, sir.” Amir answered. When Diya al-Dīn didn’t ask him for anything else, he continued, “Our team started to feel the symptoms a week ago. By that point, the novices that showed the starting symptoms had become bedridden.”
Everyone was on the other side of the room, some were lying down on their own cot while others were trying to take care of them.
Even the ones up and about looked as pale or even paler than Amir.
“Altaïr?”
Altaïr turned to the source of such a familiar voice.
At the very corner of the room was setti, sitting next to two people on either side of her. One of them was the Rafiq of Jerusalem but the other was-
Diya al-Dīn walked briskly towards them and knelt in front of the young girl breathing heavily.
“Mentor, please be careful!” Amir said as he followed him quickly with Altaïr.
Setti’s eyes widened as she went down on her knees and pressed her forehead against the dirty floor, “Please! Please save them!”
The cup she had been holding clattered to the floor and rolled by Altaïr’s right foot. Altaïr bent down to pick it up at the same time Diya al-Dīn placed a hand on her trembling shoulder as he said, “I will do everything that I can to help all of you. Stand, my child.”
Setti was probably a decade or so older than Diya al-Dīn but no one said anything to correct him. Amir helped her stand as she trembled and lean onto him as Diya al-Dīn looked over the young girl.
“How many days has she been burning up?” Diya al-Dīn asked.
“Three days ago.” She answered, “She was a little warm when I checked her forehead a week ago but she just laughed it off and said it was because she went outside for a while.”
Tears began to threaten to fall as she choked, “My husband has been sick for a while now by then so I didn’t think- I wasn’t paying attention-”
Setti covered her face as she said, “Oh, my sweet Sinem! How could I neglect our daughter!”
“Her mouth is dry and starting to crack.” Diya al-Dīn kept his attention on the child as he asked, “Do you know when your child last urinated?”
“It was a few hours ago when she needed to defecate.” Setti answered as she dropped her hands, wrapping her arms around herself.
Diya al-Dīn walked towards the bucket they had been using before Amir could say anything. They were placed near a hole and all the buckets were empty.
It was the right call though.
If they kept the waste inside the room, it could have a negative effect on everyone inside.
“She’s showing signs of dehydration.” Diya al-Dīn stated, making setti look at him with a confused expression as she had never heard that word before. Diya al-Dīn walked out of the hole and raised his head to look at one of the Assassins pinning the fabric over the roof, “Kasim, prepare rehydration water and give them to everyone inside.”
Kasim jumped down the roof and bowed as he said, “Yes, mentor.”
Diya al-Dīn walked towards the nearby thicket and looked at the ground.
As he had expected, this was where they were dumping the content of those buckets.
The urine had already been absorbed by the soil but the feces were still there.
“Mentor.”
Diya al-Dīn didn’t look back and said instead, “Amir was right. Their feces would indicate that they’re suffering from what Desmond calls diarrhea. We need to give them water and hydrate them as best we could. We’ll try to cure that before checking what other symptoms their sickness has.”
“It might be poison.”
Diya al-Dīn finally turned to face Altaïr who handed him the cup that setti had dropped.
“I didn’t ask setti but something was in this cup that wasn’t water.” Altaïr said, “I would like permission to investigate the possible content of this cup.”
Diya al-Dīn sighed and rubbed his forehead before he said, “I give you permission, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad but do not tell anyone yet. Considering no one has died yet, it’s possible that…”
Diya al-Dīn turned to stare at the hole leading to the room, “The poisoner is still with us and has yet to kill their target.”
Chapter 83
Notes:
No beta due to RL.
Chapter Text
Altaïr didn’t know all that much about poison. He only learned of the most commonly used poison and how to recognize the signs of something being contaminated with poison and how to counteract it if he did come into contact with it.
To be completely honest, Altaïr wasn’t a hundred percent sure that it was poison in the first place.
But he had been looking into different kinds of poisons and how they could be used after learning that Desmond was actively trying to use them as ingredients for the tools he and Khalid were developing.
Their supposed precursor, the Hidden Ones, was a fascinating topic by itself. But he already combed through what little information they had about the Hidden Ones so he branched out on knowledge that might be helpful to Desmond.
That included the study of poison that the scholar tower had a lot of books and journals about.
One of them was even a book that Desmond had written during his time as his father’s assistant, a book detailing every poisonous plant he knew of, complete with sketches of each plant and symptoms.
Many of those plants had the same symptoms as the patients they were looking after at the moment.
“Altaïr, I have been ordered to help you.”
Altaïr turned to look at the Assassin in front of him. The large scar that barely missed his left eye and traveled across his nose, ending at his right cheek, was usually what caught everybody’s eyes. Even with the fabric covering half his face, the scar was still quite prominent. Altaïr didn’t know the story behind that scar mainly because he had not spoken to the man since he came to Alamut.
No.
That wasn’t exactly correct.
They talked a bit before sparring and he was one of the stronger Assassins Alamut had to offer.
Unfortunately…
His father was one of the older Assassins who didn’t approve of Desmond taking Altaïr as his consort.
“Thank you, Kasim.” Altaïr said before explaining, “I’m taking all dirty clothing and dishes outside to wash them. The mentor ordered that their dwelling be as clean as we can make it.”
“Understood. I’ll take these.” Kasim said as he took a box filled with dirty clothing and fabric.
Altaïr nodded before walking out of the house while carrying the box with the dishes and everything they had used to eat and drink during their journey. They had been cleaned with the exception of the cups that they were using moments before Altaïr’s party arrived but Altaïr was able to get even the clean ones by telling those who asked that he was going to disinfect them.
An Assassin was sweeping by the front of the house and noticed Altaïr. He was about to speak, most probably to greet Altaïr or ask if he needs assistance, but stopped when he saw Kasim following behind Altaïr. The Assassin looked at Altaïr with an expression that looked like he wanted to say something but was worried and ended up just fidgeting and looking around before glancing at him repeatedly.
He was one of the younger Assassins, barely past the rank of novice…
And he was trying to signal something to Altaïr that was quite hard to understand.
“He’s asking if you need help. If you nod, he’s going to come and try to talk to me to give you a chance to escape.” Kasim quietly explained from behind Altaïr.
Ah.
That wasn’t surprising.
While Altaïr never heard Kasim or his father insult him or Desmond, Kasim’s father was usually in the presence of those who did and was usually the one to speak for that certain faction. This meant that the other Assassins thought of Kasim as someone who may bear ill will to Altaïr.
And that was also why Kasim’s father volunteered his son to join this rescue mission.
“It’s alright.” Altaïr whispered as they passed the Assassin, walking deeper into the ruins.
Once they were out of earshot, he asked the man behind him, “Did the mentor truly order you to help me or are you doing this for your own mission?”
“Father only ordered me to keep an eye on you. And I never said the mentor was the one that ordered me to help you.” Kasim answered as he remained behind Altaïr.
Altaïr simply hummed. He noticed that as well. He knew that Desmond preferred to use vague words or words that could easily be misunderstood than outward lying. He called it ‘fae lies’. Altaïr was familiar with such practice but Alamut Assassins seemed to enjoy using them more than other people.
Whether this was another influence from Desmond or a tradition in Alamut, Altaïr wasn’t sure. What he was sure about was that it made him listen more closely to people.
He was always wary of those who uses such tactics to lie.
With his hands burdened by a box filled with dirty dishes and cutlery, Altaïr’s reaction time would be a bit slower than usual if Kasim did try to attack him from behind.
Altaïr would still be able to dodge out of the way though. He knew just how fast Kasim was thanks to their previous sparring match was and he was confident he was still faster.
“Does he think that I would use this time to kill the mentor?” Altaïr asked as he turned to face Kasim. He was curious just how ‘evil’ he appeared in the eyes of those against Desmond becoming the next mentor.
“My father believes you won’t be that foolish, considering you’d be the primary suspect if anything was to happen to the mentor.” Kasim answered as he walked pass Altaïr, going towards the center of the ruins. It had been Altaïr’s plan to go there in the first place so he just followed Kasim and listened as the older man continued, “But there are many ways to weaken the mentor while we’re here. Ensuring he was to have the same sickness as the people we are trying to help is one of them.”
Altaïr would have been offended by his words had he been anyone else. But Altaïr himself was used to being suspected of having ulterior motives. In Masyaf, he was seen as an extension of Rashid’s will, a little spy masquerading as the closest to the mentor’s ‘son’ as anyone in Masyaf could be.
Abbas had called him Rashid’s dog a couple of times that the insult didn’t hurt Altaïr anymore.
It was just annoying.
It was easier to ignore the distrust he received here in Alamut as many saw him as quite harmless once they realized how much Altaïr loved Desmond.
… as harmless as an Assassin can be, at the very least anyway.
Adha once said it made him feel more approachable. That he was so stupidly in love with Desmond that it made him feel a little bit closer than just some stranger from Masyaf.
But to the eyes of those who bear Desmond ill will, Altaïr probably appeared more as a threat that could strike at any moment.
Not a spy like how he was seen with Rashid but as…
A rabid dog that Desmond brought in to attack at his command.
Which wasn’t exactly wrong.
If Desmond willed it, he wouldn’t think twice of killing those who stand against his path of becoming the next mentor of Alamut.
Because Altaïr knew that Desmond wouldn’t ask the death of someone without a good reason.
“So you’re here to make sure I do not harm the mentor in any way, including the possibility of the mentor being harmed by my inaction.” Altaïr summarized as they reached a well that didn’t look to all that bad. There was even wood covering the top of the well with stones pilled on top of it to ensure it wouldn’t fall off.
He heard from Amir that some would drink from the well when they were patrolling so the Assassins tried to keep it as clean as they possibly could.
“If I report everything you’ve done during this mission, it would be hard for anyone to claim you did anything sinister without calling me a liar.” Kasim stated as he carefully dropped the box he was holding next to the well.
“You make it sound like you’re trying to help me.” Altaïr commented as he dropped his own box. They both turned to look at the well and they began to take off the stones keeping the wood in place.
“I’m warning you to not do anything that can be mistaken as an attempt on the mentor’s life.” Kasim said in an even tone as they continued to remove the stones from the wood, “And I do wish to help our brothers and their family especially…”
Altaïr glanced at him, curious to why he had stopped talking just when they have finished clearing the stones. Kasim took a step back while Altaïr pulled the wood off the well.
“That child… she couldn’t have been more than ten years old.” Kasim noted.
Altaïr simply hummed to show Kasim that he was listening.
There was only one child in that house. The child that setti called their daughter. Considering setti and the Rafiq’s ages, it was highly likely they had adopted the child.
“My youngest sister would be around her age.” Kasim admitted and Altaïr wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that.
He did know that Kasim’s family was quite large. The man, at least, had two sisters and a younger brother. That little bit of information he only knew because one of Kasim’s sisters who was definitely older than ten would visit the training ring and watch Adha train. She never approached Adha though but Altaïr had seen her a few times before. He wouldn’t have known she was even Kasim’s sister had it not been for Oded asking her if her father knew that she was sneaking inside the castle. Oded was the one to tell Altaïr that she was part of Kasim’s large family and was the second child.
Altaïr also knew that everyone had seen her when she was trying to sneak inside and turned a blind eye. The Assassins of Alamut tend to let kids enter the castle when they know their fathers were Assassin as well.
It sounded like a security weakness to Altaïr but it made things livelier whenever he saw Assassins pretending not to see a child trying to ‘sneak’ inside.
It was clear that the Assassins here were closer to their families than those in Masyaf. Altaïr couldn’t remember the Assassins of Masyaf ever indulging children. They could visit if they wanted to but they had to be supervised. He always thought it was to ensure that those children wouldn’t touch anything dangerous or get lost deep inside the castle.
The children here in Alamut were also cared for but there was a certain kind of ‘indulgence’ to it.
They both cared for children in their own way. It was just easier for Alamut to show such care out in the open.
He wondered if this kind of environment was the reason why Rashid drilled into their mind to never show affection to even their own family.
“The mentor will find out what ails them.” Altaïr said even though he knew his words would not soothe whatever turmoil Kasim had.
Altaïr couldn’t even imagine what it would be like seeing an image of his own sister in a child too sick to even open her eyes.
“And is that why you confiscated these? To help figure out the sickness?” Kasim asked as he watched Altaïr take the bucket right next to the well. He used a rope he had on him to tie the bucket on one end, “If you tell me what I should look out for, I can help you.”
“I’m looking for poison.” Altaïr answered as cautiously dropped the bucket into the well. He saw Kasim’s eyes widened in the corner of his sight but he kept his attention at the well.
“How can you be sure it’s poison?” Kasim asked, just as Altaïr expected him to, “If it was truly poison, how come no one else has thought about it?”
It didn’t take long before the bucket reached the waters and Altaïr used the rope to tilt the bucket so it would scoop up water as he answered, “I’m not a hundred percent certain, of course, but I’ve read that some poison can cause their symptoms.”
Altaïr continued to stare at the well as he continued, “As for why the others didn’t think it was poison…”
He turned to stare at Kasim as he asked, “Would you ever thought of even the possibility that someone would poison the bureau? A place that housed different antidotes for poisons and other medical supplies. The bureau is meant to be a safe haven for every Assassin with plans already in place if it was ever compromised.”
“We had never had a tragedy of having the bureau attacked as far as I could remember. Whenever we even hear a whisper of the bureau’s location being compromised, we immediately leave. The closest to our brothers being truly in danger while in a bureau had been when everyone left Jerusalem as the flames of war threatened to burn it down.” He turned to look back at the bucket as he continued, “It is easy to believe that the bureau is completely safe that we forget that sometimes, it is easier to sneak in a poison in your home than to challenge you to a rigged duel on the street.”
“Do you think the poisoner is targeting us?” Kasim asked with furrowed brows.
“It’s possible. Maybe they were targeting the Rafiq, his family and the novices are just collateral damage but…” Altaïr pulled the bucket back up and Kasim grabbed it to keep it steady once it was at arm’s reach, “It’s also possible we’re the collateral damage and the Jerusalem bureau in general was the target.”
Kasim placed the bucket on the ground and nodded at Altaïr to silently tell him the water was clean enough to use.
“We should focus on finding out if this is poison or not first.” Altaïr narrowed his eyes as he said, “We can think of who the target is once we’re certain.”
The most important thing at the moment was to treat the symptoms he could see and ensure that their living space was as clean as they could be. He checked everyone and they all seemed to have the same symptoms.
Fever, diarrhea, fatigue and vomiting seemed to be the clearest symptoms.
The problem was… fever, fatigue and vomiting could be symptoms of diarrhea by itself. Diya al-Dīn would need to observe and record them for a few days to be sure while he tries to cure their diarrhea.
Another thing was the fact that his patients were suffering the same symptoms in varying degrees of severity.
The one hit the worst by it was the Rafiq’s adopted daughter.
Next was the Rafiq himself who could barely stand.
After that, it was the Rafiq’s wife, the woman that everyone seemed to call setti.
Then the novices…
And then the team they sent to Jerusalem.
Diya al-Dīn’s best guess was that this sickness attacked the old and young faster. Their team being affected the least could be because they weren’t in Jerusalem long enough to exhibit the same severity.
… would be his first guess but there was wrinkle to that theory.
The other Assassins who remained in the Jerusalem branch.
As far as everyone knew, they weren’t affected at all. And Diya al-Dīn would have to agree. They have been in the branch longer than Amir’s team yet they did not display any symptoms at all.
And that lead to Diya al-Dīn to give Altaïr’s theory of poisoning some thought. It was the best lead they had.
If it was poison, Diya al-Dīn might be able to counteract the effect once he knows what poison was used.
As if being summoned by his thoughts, Altaïr entered the new house the Rafiq and his family was staying in. Diya al-Dīn was here as well to keep a close eye on the two patients who were having the most severe of symptoms. Kasim remained by the door with his hands behind his back and that grave look on his face was too much like his father that Diya al-Dīn knew they’ve got something.
Altaïr nodded at him and Diya al-Dīn felt the need to talk to him about that. There were a lot of meaning a nod could convey and, Diya al-Dīn cannot stress this enough, Altaïr always had the very same nod for every single meaning it could mean.
Diya al-Dīn was quite unsure if that nod was simply meant to be a greeting, a silent way to say ‘it’s poison!’ or something entirely different.
Still, it would be rude to talk to Altaïr about that in front of so many people.
Wait.
Now that they were out of the castle and away from Desmond’s overly protective eyes, he could finally talk to Altaïr.
As the father-in-law and son-in-law.
Get to know each other over the warm fire during the night while they were all relaxing.
Maybe talk about the embarrassing stories he had about Desmond-
“Setti, do you still serve tea to the novices and guests?” Altaïr’s question brought Diya al-Dīn out of his musing.
“Oh, yes. I do.” Setti answered with a nod, her voice cracking a bit as she turned to face Altaïr while sitting between her husband and their child, holding both their hands.
It was a very awkward position but she wouldn’t let go even when Diya al-Dīn suggested she get some much needed rest as well.
“Did you pack it as well?” Altaïr asked before adding, “I’m thinking of making tea for everyone and I think they’d feel better if it was the tea you use.”
“O-of course.” She turned her head towards one of the bags by the foot of her husband’s cot, “It’s in there.”
“Thank you, setti.” Altaïr walked towards the bag and went down on one knee.
Altaïr opened the bag and looked inside while she asked, “How have you been, Altaïr? You look much better than when we last saw each other.”
“I’ve been happier than I could have ever thought of.” Altaïr answered calmly as he continued to look inside the bag.
Diya al-Dīn bit the inside of his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing at the dread that passed by Kasim’s expression.
It was clear that Kasim was one of those who had grown tired of seeing Altaïr and Desmond parade their love so blatantly to the world.
He was certain the poor boy was hoping something would change the subject.
“Setti.” Altaïr took out something from the bag and showed it to her, “Is this the tea you’ve been using for the past few weeks?”
“Oh, yes.” She answered with a small weak smile, “It was a gift from Al Mualim to my husband. His keeper gave it to my husband a few months ago but it was just collecting dust. I started using it when we ran out of our usual tea.”
Altaïr stood as he said, “I’ll go prepare this tea then.”
Diya al-Dīn saw Altaïr glance at him. It wasn’t the most subtle of signs but the woman was distraught and tired. She clearly did not see it so Diya al-Dīn stood as he said, “I’ll come with you, Altaïr. I would like to see if Rashid’s present could be of help. Some tea do have medicinal properties.”
“Of course, mentor.” Altaïr bowed and waited while Diya al-Dīn turned to face her.
“Get some rest, my child. We will take care of the rest.” Diya al-Dīn said gently before walking out of the house, followed by Altaïr.
Diya al-Dīn was sure this conversation was not something they would wish the poor woman to hear.
No matter what information Altaïr might have… whether it was good or bad, Diya al-Dīn would hear it.
He needed any and every information he could get to heal his patients after all.
Chapter 84
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Head's up: This chapter has multiple POVs
Warning: While it is not described in detail, this chapter does include the plan to use of animal to check for poisoning. Please be warned and let me know if I should make a more detailed warning if it feels warranted.
Chapter Text
The tea was made of dried white flowers and what Diya al-Dīn assumed would be the leaves of the same unknown white flower.
He couldn’t exactly be sure if they were all the same kind of flowers since he knew there were some that combined different flowers and leaves to create a unique combination of flavor and scent.
The petals had been plucked and dried, making it near impossible to figure out the flower’s identity. The petals themselves looked ordinary.
Which made it almost impossible to be sure if the leaves came from the same plant.
He supposed it could be considered ‘lucky’ of them that the petals and leaves have similar sizes and shapes. That lowered the chance of it being different kinds of flowers and leaves.
‘Lowered’ but not crossed out, of course.
There were plants with similar looking petals and leaves after all.
It wasn’t uncommon to use flowers for tea. The Brotherhood itself was quite fond of tea made with dried hibiscus.
But it seemed too much of a coincidence that the people in Jerusalem that had drank this specific tea had become sick.
“Would Masyaf even use poison?” Kasim asked as he stood behind Altaïr. They were staying in one of the empty houses that has yet to be cleared. It provided a bit of privacy and it was far away from the patients that they wouldn’t hear anything that might be discussed in this little house.
Right now, it was better to keep this quiet from them. They must focus on getting better.
“Rashid taught us that poison is a coward’s way.” Altaïr answered without looking at Kasim and focused his attention at some of the dried flowers and leaves he had dropped on the small clean fabric he had placed on top of a rickety table to better get a look at them, “Considering that you’re questioning if Masyaf would use poison, that would mean Alamut knows of Rashid’s stance of using it.”
Altaïr stared at the dried flowers on the table as he continued, “Which means it’s the perfect weapon to kill someone that Rashid wants gone without anyone thinking he could have been involved in the first place.”
Diya al-Dīn hummed.
It was always fascinating to hear Altaïr say such treacherous words about the man who he probably saw as his master and lord just months ago. Perhaps more if he had been disillusioned far longer than the day he followed Desmond back to Alamut.
Sharing so much similarity with Umar only made hearing such things from the boy…
Well…
Diya al-Dīn would be lying if he said it wasn’t amusing.
But Altaïr was just as easily blinded by the possibility of Rashid being a traitor.
Of Rashid personally betraying him…
“Or Harash acted on his own.” Diya al-Dīn countered, making sure to not sound like he was berating Altaïr but simply offering another possibility. He looked at the open hole that led outside as he continued, “We have no proof that this truly came from Rashid. Even if Harash is his Keeper, Harash could have acted on his own.”
He didn’t say anything about how Harash’s loyalty to Rashid felt more like worship at times back when they were in Alamut. It had been a long time ago and Diya al-Dīn himself was an example of how time could change one’s feelings about Rashid.
For all he knew, Harash could just as easily been disillusioned by now and was acting against Rashid in secret.
It was a guess though and he’d rather Altaïr not be influenced by something without any evidence like what he was thinking.
Diya al-Dīn turned to look back at the flowers as he reminded them, “We are also unsure if this is poison. Altaïr, why did you think of this tea?”
“I remember setti used to offer tea to anyone who visits the bureau.” Altaïr explained, “She has tea with the novices during the evening as well. It’s… it’s something she does to help everyone relax. But the tea she shared with me had always been hibiscus tea.”
“And the residue in those cups didn’t look like hibiscus tea.” Diya al-Dīn finished, earning a nod from Altaïr.
How interesting.
He heard her explain why she had used that tea when they ran out. To run out of tea was unheard of but there could be many reasons why.
One of the more common reasons would be that hibiscus tea had gotten too expensive because it became harder to transport it. The peace in Jerusalem and in all its nearby roads was just a stone throw away from being broken by skirmishes between two warring factions and raids done by soldiers pretending to be brigands.
Another reason could be that the bureau’s funds were dwindling, most probably because of goods and supplies becoming more expensive in general.
But that wasn’t the interesting part of this tea situation.
Diya al-Dīn remembered the old Rafiq of Jerusalem. Fazil used to be one of the best Master Assassin back when Diya al-Dīn was still a recruit. Like all the brightest of that time, he followed Rashid and left Alamut without looking back.
Diya al-Dīn also remembered him for being quite… stingy would probably be a good word to use. He never heard of the entire story, of course, but he remembered that Fazil came from a distant land, having traveled to Alamut by offering himself as an able hand to merchants at a young age as they travel one of the roads that passed by Alamut. Fazil took the work for whoever accepted an orphan like him and many of them were of ill repute who exploited his lack of education and understanding of how cruel adults could be.
By the time he became a recruit, he was known for hiding his things and being reluctant to share anything he received. He also had a habit of stealing when he knew that others wouldn’t scold him and sharing that instead.
Poison would be a good ‘choice’ to kill him. If it was a gift, the Fazil he knew would have never shared it with anyone and would have savored it. His old age could just as easily mask the first symptoms, weakening muscles and tiredness. By the time the rest of the symptoms pierced its sharp fangs, people would assume Fazil was simply dying of old age.
The fact that he shared it with his family was something that Diya al-Dīn would have ever thought of.
Fazil must have loved his wife enough to let her share such a gift to novices and guests. Those guests probably had the first symptoms but they’d leave Jerusalem before they could have ingested enough for it to be concerning. They could just as easily attribute the tiredness and weakening of muscles for being in the road for a while. The novices who stayed for a long time would have been drinking that tea for as long as the Rafiq and his family. And they would be drinking more since they would drink it to quench their thirst while Fazil would have savored the tea and only drink one cup a day. The team they sent also drank more because they stayed longer than an Assassin on a regular mission.
Their daughter though… she had it the worst most probably because she would have tea daily as well. Maybe even multiple times if she drank tea with the novices and joined her father’s tea time as well. Being young also meant that the poison would have taken hold of her body faster…
And he was sure that the Rafiq’s wife must have been serving them tea while they rested on their journey…
If this tea was truly poison…
How cruel it would be if this was the poison then.
But that was all the more reason to…
“Then we must test it.” He raised his head to stare at Altaïr as he asked, “I know my son taught you how to hunt but do you think you can get us an animal without killing it?”
Diya al-Dīn closed his eyes as he sighed, “This is a cruel thing to do but the best way for us to know if this is poison without endangering ourselves is to make an animal drink it.”
And, even if one of them was to volunteer being the test subject, it wouldn’t amount to anything. By the time they get sick, there was still a possibility that the tea was not to blame and that they had simply become infected by whatever it was that ailed the others.
Amir had informed them that none of the cats that visited the bureau had gotten sick even when two of them would sleep in the same room as the novices who probably secretly fed them every now and then.
Diya al-Dīn had asked because he wanted to make sure that an animal would not carry this sickness throughout Jerusalem. If none of the cats that these novices supposedly secretly fed and let in their rooms had gotten sick or died of unknown causes, this would indicate a high possibility that the animals were immune to this sickness if it was truly a sickness.
The possibility of them being carriers though still existed but their focus right now was to check if this is actually poisoning and not a contagious illness.
“I can do that. Kasim can assist me in checking if this is poison or not.” Altaïr said with a small bow.
Diya al-Dīn’s lips curved into a mirthless smile as he opened his eyes.
All three of them knew that Kasim was sent by his father to keep an eye on Altaïr. And Altaïr was blatantly using Kasim to ensure that no one would question his actions as being treacherous out in the open.
This boy seemed to not enjoy politics but he certainly knew how to navigate in it.
Unlike his son who preferred to navigate around it.
“Very well. I trust Kasim will be of help.” Diya al-Dīn nodded at Kasim who bowed at him, “I will focus on treating the patients. I’ll be in charge of everything they drink and eat.”
There was no need to induce vomiting on the off-chance it would make them throw up the poison they’ve ingested (if they were truly poisoned) since they were vomiting every now and then. The most pressing part was to ensure that they get all the water and nutrients they needed even with the constant vomiting and diarrhea. That was where Diya al-Dīn would have to focus while checking everyone of any other symptoms they might have missed.
“What will you say to setti if she asked why we didn’t give them tea?”
Diya al-Dīn was surprised by that question. He didn’t expect Altaïr to care that much about the excuse he had used to take the tea.
She was of no fault. She did not know it was poison (if it was truly poison). Punishing her would only be cruel and foolish.
But he supposed to the eyes of someone who could only support the Brotherhood by offering her home and food, the truth would be a punishment undeserving of her kindness.
It was easy to forget that ‘guilt’ defies logic and reason. Diya al-Dīn felt ashamed that he had done just that.
How many nights did he spend agonizing over being seen as a disappointment in his own father’s eyes?
How many nights did he feel guilty for being a failure?
It was why he became a doctor, after all.
He didn’t want to save people back then.
He was just a young man who wanted to be of use.
To be successful of something… anything.
The desire to protect his people only came into his heart when he stepped out of his father’s unattainable expectations and Rashid’s overwhelming shadow.
“I will tell her that the tea is meant to be for relaxing but we must focus on food and drinks with medicinal value at the moment. Perhaps I’ll imply that we’ll have some once they’re all cured but I won’t outright say it.” Diya al-Dīn answered.
It was too cruel to tell her that the tea she had been serving out of the goodness of her heart could have been poison sent to slowly kill her husband.
Especially since they weren’t entirely sure that was truly the case.
And, even if it was…
Why would Harash or Rashid want the old Rafiq of Jerusalem to die?
“There are bows and arrows in the cart.” Kasim informed him as he followed Altaïr to the edge of the ruins, “We can find an animal that suits our need east of here. We shouldn’t hunt in the forest near Alamut-”
Kasim stopped and sighed when he saw that Altaïr was simply staring at the sky, “Targeting a bird would be too much even for you, Altaïr. We need it alive.”
As if to mock Kasim, a shadow of a bird flew around them before landing a few feet away from them.
When he realized it was an eagle, he immediately assumed it was Altaïr’s eagle.
The undeniable ruler of the aviary atop the mentor’s tower.
Then the eagle made a sound that could only be considered as annoyed boredom and Kasim realized it was Aquila, Desmond’s eagle.
Altaïr went down on one knee but didn’t come close to the eagle as he said, “We need live animals. Two, at the very least, three would be most ideal.”
Aquila tilted his head as Altaïr continued, “All of them must be the same animal of similar weight. If you can, get animals of the same ages or close enough and-”
Kasim had always thought that Aquila acted more human than any other animals he had ever come across with. The mentor’s eagle, Bennu, was similar but it was easy to overlook Bennu’s human-like characteristics because his actions could be taken more as a well trained eagle.
Many truly assumed Bennu was just that. A well trained pet. A lie to mask the fact that none of the past mentors had been able to connect with their eagle for so long.
Aquila, on the other hand, had no qualms showing his human-like emotions with his actions and posture.
It was a show of how special Desmond was.
As if he was a direct descendants of the Hidden Ones that had returned to Alamut to bring back their former glory…
Aquila, for his part, was looking at Altaïr with a… it wasn’t exactly how he looked. It was part of it but, more than that, there was something inside of Kasim, the instinct that he had honed for years as an Assassin, that told him that Aquila reminded him of a child who believed an adult was being unreasonable with their request.
Once Altaïr finished up the requirements (including how the animal must be an adult and healthy), Aquila tapped his feet a couple of times before flying off the ground.
Altaïr stood and turned to face Kasim as he said, “We should prepare ourselves.”
“Should we make cages for rabbits then?” Kasim asked.
“No.” Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile as he said, “Aquila is quite petty. We should get more Assassins to help us.”
“Help us with what?” Kasim asked as Altaïr walked pass him. He turned around and followed Altaïr back into the camp they’ve made in the middle of the ruins as he said in an even tone that only held a bit of resignation, “Altaïr, I cannot be of help if you keep secrets that necessary to our current situation.”
“I’m not deliberately keeping things from you.” Altaïr stated before he calmly admitted, “I don’t know what Aquila is planning but…”
Altaïr turned to look at Kasim as he said fondly, “Considering he’s our son, it would be to our best interest to prepare for the ‘worst’.”
When his father asked him to keep an eye on Altaïr, Aquila didn’t really mind at all. He wanted to sulk when he heard that Maud would remain in the castle to support his father but he noticed how serious his father had looked when he asked Aquila for this favor.
So Aquila didn’t cause a fuss and agreed.
But then… Altaïr told him to stay at a distant and to not come near him at any cause.
How rude!
He was accompanying him out of the goodness of his heart! He agreed to this even when he knew he wouldn’t be getting any treats at all!
Not that he would ever taken a treat from Altaïr considering how poor the man was but Aquila still had to sacrifice his daily treats to take care of him!
And now he had the gall to ask him for a favor with so many restrictions that Aquila would have to scour the skies for hours just to complete it?!
The audacity of this man!
Just because he was his father’s lover didn’t mean he could ask without giving Aquila something in return! His father always rewarded Aquila when he did a good job!
And that’s when he remembered of a ‘friend’ of his.
Friends to be more exact.
Well…
He wasn’t sure if they truly understood him but he liked to believe that he knew them enough to know how they would react.
Altaïr wanted healthy adults of similar sizes and ages?
Aquila would give it to him.
With minimal effort on his part as well.
A few hours later, just as the sun was starting to set, colored smoke appeared north of the ruins. The patrols were ordered to only use them if an attack was imminent. They had no information on who could be attacking them or how many they were but the fact that they were coming from the direction of Alamut Castle was a cause of concern.
They knew what to do though and many of them hid in different places around the ruins. While they were all trained in close quarters combat, a surprise attack was still the best way to start an encounter. If they were lucky, they would be able to whittle down their enemies’ numbers quickly before they would be forced to an open battlefield.
All the patients were in the center of the ruins and a barricade had been hastily placed around them.
It would have been better if the mentor just agreed to leave and hid-
“Altaïr?! Kasim!? What are you-” One of the Assassins shouted as the sounds of horses galloping passed the ruins.
Before anyone could stop them, Altaïr and Kasim rode out of the ruins with three more Assassins.
“Let them be.”
With those words, all the Assassins who were debating if they should follow the riders to help or drag them back stopped and turned to face their mentor.
Their mentor simply smiled when they first heard the howls of wolves coming from the north.
Wolves.
Their enemies were wolves.
And Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad just led their brothers into a charge against wild intelligent beasts in an open plain.
Aquila and Maud were as different to dawn and twilight. They have their similarities but their differences were clearer.
Altaïr was more used to Maud who took everything seriously and simply judged his actions quietly when she did not approve of it.
He thought he knew just how petty Aquila could be.
This was the very same eagle who dropped a dead rat on the head of an Assassin that had been calling Altaïr ridiculous names that weren’t even worth thinking about.
He expected something similar, that Aquila would come get them and show them to a herd that they would have to hunt the animals themselves.
Or perhaps they would have to catch an animal fleeing Aquila as he led the unsuspecting beast into the ruins.
He did not expect such chaos that they had to join.
A pack of wolves, healthy and strong, chasing after a herd of goats.
“They’re the wolf pack!” One of the Assassins who followed them out of the ruins shouted and Altaïr only heard of them in passing.
Such a sentence would have meant nothing at all to Altaïr had he not heard of the stories.
A pack of wolves that lived in the forest near Alamut Castle. Altaïr heard that they didn’t attack humans and only took down animals for food so they were left alone.
One of the older Assassins even told him that the wolf pack was alive due to Desmond’s mercy, having spared them years ago back when they were just pups.
One of the wolves howled once more and Altaïr shouted, “Do not harm the wolves! Focus on retrieving a goat and escaping!”
Whether Aquila brought the wolves to them or used the wolves to bring the goats to them didn’t matter. The goats would suffice for testing the tea and they wouldn’t be as dangerous as the wolves.
Of course, any animal cornered would be dangerous but Altaïr would rather risk fighting a goat than a wolf.
Above them, Aquila let out a sound that Altaïr knew was one of amusement over the difficult task ahead of them.
Chapter 85
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Light warning: Not descriptive but goats are used to check for poison.
Chapter Text
They were able to capture three goats before the rest were taken down by the wolves. It had not been an easy task and the goats had not felt like cooperating in any way possible. In their eyes, they were also predators aiming to strike them down. It also didn’t help that the wolves themselves weren’t truly on their side so they had to keep the wolves’ position in mind the entire time.
Altaïr gave the primary orders of which goat to take while Kasim ordered how the other Assassins moved. There was a part of him that had been wary that Kasim would sabotage their mission one way or another to paint Altaïr in a bad light but the man was focused on supporting Altaïr’s orders.
It looked like he had a lot of experience being the one to take charge of giving small short orders. Perhaps that was his usual responsibility when he was out on the field with his father.
With Altaïr being able to focus on seeing the full picture and Kasim focusing on everyone’s movements, they were able to capture the three adult goats that were most similar to one another.
Altaïr did cheat a bit by believing in Aquila’s shadow. Aquila kept flying above certain goats and Altaïr trusted him enough to know that was meant to be Aquila’s sign to focus on those specific goats.
Once they left the wolves with their prizes, they returned to the ruins. Altaïr had already informed the mentor beforehand of what they were planning to do so the other Assassins didn’t give them trouble for acting on their own.
The goats were tied to one of the sturdy posts left in the ruins with an Assassin to look after them while Altaïr and Kasim started to make them a cage for each of them on an abandoned pen. It would have been better for the goats to live in a pen but a cage would restrict their movements, lessening the chance of something interfering with their ‘experiment’.
Of course, there was still a possibility that something would end up skewering the results. An abandoned pen in a ruin wasn’t the ideal place to do this kind of experiment but this was the best they could do given what they were given.
“Do you believe the others’ guess that we were lucky that the wolves Aquila tried to bring to us chased goats on the way?” Kasim asked as he worked on his cage. Another Assassin was in charge of the third cage and he remained quiet, although Altaïr saw his eyes flicker to them before continuing to work on the third cage.
“Aquila asked for help.” Altaïr answered. He looked at the newly finished cage in front of him and frowned. It would hold up but it certainly looked rushed.
It looked inadequate in Altaïr’s eyes.
But he would just have to deal with such imperfection, it was more important that the goats be placed in the cages as soon as possible.
“I don’t know if the wolves truly did understand Aquila or if he simply led them to the herd and pushed them into coming our way but his plan had always been to give us goats.” Altaïr raised his head to look at the sky before continuing, “He used the wolves so he wouldn’t have to get us.”
Which meant the entire thing was because Aquila didn’t want to make two more trips.
And to be petty.
Kasim turned to look at Altaïr as he asked, “Is it possible that it was Desmond?”
“That was all Aquila. Desmond would have given me a sign if it was him.” Altaïr turned his head, taking the time to look at the cage that Kasim had just finished. It looked more or less at a similar state as Altaïr’s newly constructed cage.
Usable but with a lot of rooms for improvement.
Altaïr supposed this was the standard for Assassins like them when constructing a cage for goats as soon as he could.
Then he saw the cage being built by the Assassin who volunteered to help them with the cages, focused on finishing the third cage. The Assassin stopped and turned to look at them after sensing their gaze and asked, “Is something the matter, Altaïr? Kasim?”
“No. It’s nothing.” Kasim shook his head and his eyes met Altaïr before they both stared at their ‘alright’ cages. Kasim’s lips curved into a smile as he said dryly, “We all have our strengths and weaknesses after all.”
“Of course.” Altaïr agreed.
Yes.
Everyone had their own strengths and weaknesses.
The goat that will not receive any of tea was placed in the most beautiful cage Altaïr had ever seen.
Truly, it was a travesty that the man was an Assassin and not a carpenter at this point.
The two cages that Altaïr and Kasim worked on would be the living space of the two goats who will drink the tea.
One goat will drink it three times a day.
The other goat will only drink it once a day.
The two goats didn’t want to drink the tea when it was prepared for them. It wasn’t a sign that the tea was poisonous, of course.
It was possible that the goats just didn’t like the smell.
So Kasim and Altaïr had to force the goats to drink it.
The goats struggled more than the two of them imagined and, by the end of it, both of them had to wash up and change their robes.
“What happens if it is truly poison?” Kasim asked as they wiped their arms with a clean fabric.
“I would assume the mentor would try to make use of the antidotes he has. Maybe we will send word to the castle to find a specific antidote or ingredients he has in the tower which another of our brothers will deliver to us.” Altaïr dropped the fabric he used on a basket near the rope that they were now using to dry out the laundry, “But I’m not sure if the mentor would truly do that. Without fully knowing what the poison is, any antidote we give may have an adverse effect. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“It might take days for the goats to show any symptoms.” Kasim reminded him as he dropped his fabric on the basket as well, “By that point…”
“That only means that we do what we can to make sure everyone is cared for and comfortable.” Altaïr cut him off, “Our mentor is the best doctor in all of Alamut. This is his domain and we must do everything we can to support him. And that includes not dwelling in what ifs.”
Altaïr waited for Kasim to say something against what he had just said but when two seconds had passed with Kasim simply staring at him, Altaïr frowned as he asked, “What?”
“Nothing.” Kasim shook his head before turning to look at the well, “I supposed I’m just remembering that you are Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.”
Altaïr frowned as he asked, “And who did you think I was?”
“Desmond’s unemployed husband.” Kasim answered seriously. Seeing the look on Altaïr’s face, he chuckled before patting Altaïr on the back, “I’m joking.”
He began to walk towards the center of the ruins as he said, “I’ll go get an Assassin to guard the goats. We’ll be able to provide more support to the mentor out there than staying here to observe them.”
Altaïr stared at Kasim’s back silently.
Not bothering to tell the man that he would be jeopardizing his true mission to make sure Altaïr doesn’t do anything suspicious by leaving him alone, even if it was just to get an Assassin to relieve them of this task.
He had a feeling Kasim already knew that.
Three days passed in relative peace that the Assassins in the ruins have gotten used to the routine of their current situation. The mentor checked his patients every hour, flitting from room to room with his guards together with Altaïr and Kasim who assisted him with everything he might need during his rounds. When it was time to eat, Altaïr would leave his side with Kasim to look at the goats and feed them.
Altaïr had planned for all the goats to remain in the same pen but the mentor ordered they be moved to different abandoned pens that had to be cleared and cleaned beforehand. The cages were taken there with the help of the other Assassins who would later be part of the rotation of those who would look after the goats.
This way, they could minimize the possibility of one of the goats infecting the rest if it did turned out to be some kind of contagious sickness.
This could also serve as a way for them to see if this was a sickness that only plagued humans or if can transfer to animals as well.
After three days, the goat that had been drinking the tea thrice a day had started to show similar symptoms. The goat that had been drinking the tea once a day was growing weaker but fairing better than the other goat. The goat that have not drank any tea was healthy and growing fatter.
And the most interesting thing was…
No one in their party were showing any symptoms. There was one Assassin who threw up two days ago but it was during his shift as the one that had to clean the buckets they were using for their waste and, after he was removed from that task rotation, no one had said anything about being sick at all.
A three man squad that was part of the second team were sent to retrace the patients’ step. They had been ordered to keep away from the ruins until they returned from checking how the Jerusalem bureau was holding up. No one didn’t say anything about a possible poisoning as the mentor wanted them to look for any signs of a sickness plaguing the route the patients took. If they even gave a hint of it being poison, the squad might subconsciously ignore possible signs of contagion and focus on rumors or signs of poisoning.
In the eyes of the mentor, it was a necessary omission because the Assassins would think deliberate poisoning was more dangerous and that would skewer how they do their investigation and observation.
Just like any other day, the goats themselves did not want to drink the tea so Altaïr and Kasim had to forced it down their throats as usual. It would have been much easier if they had help but most of the Assassins they asked for help would suddenly disappear the next time they were looking for someone to assist them in feeding the goats.
“It’s because it’s hard for them to show anyone a moment of weakness.” Desmond’s father told Altaïr when he reported them. The mentor didn’t seemed to see it as a problem as he explained, “We are slowly killing an animal that did not deserve this. While they know it is an important task that may save the lives of others, it must make them feel… I suppose the closest word I can use is ‘guilty’. This is different from when we hunt for food. We only hunt what we need and we make sure to make it as painless as possible. Perhaps in their eyes, this is closer to…”
“Altaïr?”
Altaïr didn’t turn away from the weak goat in front of him even as Kasim’s voice pulled him away from his musing.
“Do you think we are torturing them, Kasim?” Altaïr asked quietly.
“The mentor’s words getting to you?” The man next to him asked. He sighed before offering his hand, “I’ll do it myself. Take the time to rest and eat lunch with our brothers.”
Altaïr’s grip over the waterskin filled with tea tightened as he glared at Kasim, “I can do this.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to.” Kasim countered. They both glared at one another silently for a moment before Kasim sighed and rubbed his forehead as he looked away. Kasim crossed his arms as he explained, “I did not mean to suggest that you are weak, Altaïr. Only an idiot would even believe such a thing.”
“But you are human just like the rest of us.” Kasim reminded him, turning to look at the goat in front of them as he continued, “There will be times when we feel weak and that’s fine. That is our body and mind telling us that we need help.”
“It is foolishness to not ask for help when it’s clear that we need it.” Kasim offered his hand once more as he turned to face Altaïr, “Today, it is you that needs help and I am offering you my help in place of those who cannot.”
“Perhaps tomorrow or the day after that, it will be my turn to be weak.” Kasim added in a lighter tone, “When that day comes, I simply hope there will be someone there for me as well.”
Altaïr stared at him silently before handing him the waterskin as he said, “You have a convoluted way of asking for an IOU.”
“I have no idea what that means but I’m going to assume it’s from Desmond.” Kasim said with a chuckle as he took the waterskin. He stepped towards the cage when-
“WAAAIIITTT!”
Altaïr’s hand immediately went towards the hilt of his sword as he turned around to see Khalid running after them.
Khalid finally reached them and looked around as he said, “I heard what was happening. Which goat is this? The one who drinks 3 times a day or only once?”
“Three times.”
“Stop giving it the poison.” Khalid ordered as he walked towards Kasim, casually taking the waterskin from the man.
Kasim simply sighed, not even offended by Khalid’s actions. Instead, he grabbed Khalid’s wrist just as Khalid moved his hand closer to his face. Kasim said in a calm but stern voice, “Don’t drink that.”
Khalid blinked at him before giving him a big grin, “You know, sometimes we gain resistance to certain poisons if we regularly take them in small doses.”
“I’ll tell the mentor if you drink even a single drop.” Kasim threatened with narrowed eyes.
This time, Altaïr was the one to let out a sigh before he said, “Kasim, stand down. Khalid is just messing with you.”
Altaïr turned to stare at Khalid as he said, “Stop bullying Kasim.”
“I’m not bullying him.” Khalid casually said as he lightly shook his hand. Kasim’s lips were set into a slight grimace but he let go of Khalid’s wrist as the man corrected, “I’m teasing him, there’s a difference.”
Khalid took out a small cup from one of his pouches and filled it with tea from the waterskin before taking a sniff of the waterskin. He handed the waterskin back to Kasim as he asked Altaïr, “Did you know that Kasim once gave Zain half of his food because, and I quote, ‘growing boys need to eat more’.”
“Is that a problem?” Altaïr asked as the same time Kasim groaned and rubbed his face. Growing children do need more food. He had seen a lot of children be given part of their father’s food back in Masyaf as well.
“That happened two years ago.” Khalid added with a grin.
Altaïr turned to stare at Kasim quietly. While he said nothing, the expression on Altaïr’s face was enough for Kasim to feel the need to defend himself, “I lived in Rudkhan Castle all my life, alright? I only said such ridiculous things to Zain because that was the first time I saw him!”
While Khalid seemed focus on the tea in his tiny cup, gently moving the cup around as if to look at the liquid inside in different angles, Altaïr kept an eye on him while he asked Kasim, “So you weren’t born in Alamut?”
“No.” Kasim shook his head, “My siblings and I were born in Rudkhan Castle, one of our main strongholds northwest from here. My father relocated to Alamut when my youngest brother was just one year old. I was trained in Rudkhan Castle by the leader of the soldiers in Rudkhan Castle. He’s a Master Assassin so I was trained as an Assassin. I did visit Alamut once to be initiated but that was perhaps a year or two before Desmond’s batch started their training.”
Altaïr silently placed a hand on Khalid’s forehead and pushed his head up slightly when Khalid sniffed the cup a little too close. Khalid snorted and batted Altaïr’s hand away from his forehead but didn’t try to take a sip again while Kasim continued, “I transferred to Alamut two years ago with the rest of my family to be part of my father’s squad.”
“I see.” Altaïr said with a nod as Khalid poked the tea with his right point finger. Khalid sniffed his finger and Altaïr batted it away before he could lick it as he calmly said, “I think we should tie him up.”
“Yes, that would probably for the best.” Kasim agreed.
Khalid stepped away from the two of them after he handed the cup to Altaïr. He raised his hands as he said, “Alright, alright. I think I’ve got what I can from that anyway. Can you show me the tea leaves?”
Altaïr poured the tea onto the ground as he said, “I’ll show it to you once you tell us why you want us to stop giving it to the goats.”
“I’ll dissect all three goats today. It would be better if they haven’t eaten anything at all for an hour or so before I dissect them.” Khalid explained, “Dissecting them will let us see the damage done to the first two goats internally and compare it to the healthy one. This way, we’ll have an idea of what’s happening to the internal organs to everyone who’s sick. This might help the mentor in treating them and help me in figuring out what the poison is.”
“I see.” Altaïr turned to stare at the weak goat before turning to face Khalid, “I’d like to assist you if possible.”
Altaïr lowered his gaze as he said, “I was the one who thought of using them to see if the tea was truly poisonous. I caused their suffering so it’s my responsibility to see this through the end.”
Kasim stared at Altaïr for a moment before he sighed, “I share some of the burden since I assisted you in this so I’ll see this through the end with you.”
Khalid looked at the two of them before humming with a thoughtful look on his face. He gave a carefree smile before asking lightly, “Then I suppose this wouldn’t be the right time to request that you two get me another goat, right?”
Getting smacked on the back of his head by Kasim was the only answer Khalid received.
Chapter Text
Once Khalid had given a brief overview on how the dissecting would go, he informed Altaïr that the mentor was looking for him.
Kasim sighed in resignation as he told Khalid that the mentors’ orders were more important and should have been the first thing he told them about.
They left Khalid to talk to another Assassin that would help him prep the goats while they went to meet with the mentor. Khalid promised he wouldn’t dissect the goats until they have returned.
They found the mentor in his own personal temporary house.
To be perfectly honest, it was one of the houses that were in dire need of repair. There were many holes above and the entire half of the house had been reduced to ruins.
It was, however, the closest to all the better faring houses the patients were staying. The structure itself was steady enough that there was no concern for what remained to collapse.
It was certainly not the first place anyone would think to look at, that was for certain.
“Ah, I see Khalid has finally thought of giving my message.” The mentor said with a smile once Altaïr and Kasim entered.
“Our humblest apolo-”
The mentor waved his hand at them as he said, “It’s alright. You would have met me while I was with my patients had Khalid given my message immediately. It’s better that you have arrived at this time as I have a bit of free time in my hand.”
“Certain individuals have been nagging me to rest for a bit.” The mentor dryly explained as he glanced behind Altaïr and Kasim where his two loyal guards remain quiet. He waved his hand in front of him as he said, “Come sit and join this old man for his mandatory afternoon tea.”
Altaïr and Kasim silently came closer and sat in front of the mentor, neither of them reminding the mentor that the afternoon tea was mandatory because he would be working himself ragged otherwise. Seeing him about to prepare the tea, Kasim quickly said, “Please allow me the honor of serving you today.”
The mentor simply smiled as he said lightly, “I would appreciate that, Kasim. Thank you.”
He aimed his smile at Altaïr as Kasim started to prepare the tea, “Such a nice young man, isn’t he? Quite rude though, taking away the chance for you to…”
He looked thoughtful as he said, “What phrase did my son use? Ah, yes. ‘Score some points’ with me.”
Altaïr closed his eyes as he commented, “Kasim is simply doing what is required of him. It would look horrible if you were to fall ill after I serve you tea but it will also be rude if we let the mentor serve us tea.”
Altaïr opened his eyes in time to see Kasim glare at him for a moment. A minuscule of a second that relayed how Kasim felt.
They both knew Altaïr was right but it was also considered rude to say it out loud.
The mentor simply laughed and Altaïr blinked.
For a moment, he was reminded of Desmond’s laughter when something embarrassing amused him.
It wasn’t an exact copy nor did their laughter sound similar but…
There was something in the way the mentor moved that felt a bit similar to Desmond’s.
Like a subconscious little habit nurtured throughout the years.
“I’m glad the two of you have grown close even in during such predicament we find ourselves in.” The mentor grabbed the journal Altaïr had been using to write everything he had observed and heard that might be connected to the sickness. He flipped the book open as he continued, “We all lead dangerous lives and we must be strong to face whatever adversary that dare bare its fangs.”
“And even the most perilous of paths can be less of a danger to you if you surround yourself with people you trust.” He took out a letter that had been pressed between the pages and offered it to Altaïr as he continued, “My son has surrounded himself with loyal friends.”
“It pleases my old heart to see that you are doing the same.” He said as Altaïr took the letter from him.
Altaïr stared at him and waited for him to nod before opening the letter.
Altaïr, I hope this letter finds you in good health.
Altaïr immediately recognized the handwriting.
This was written by Kadar.
Altaïr, I hope this letter finds you in good health.
I apologize if this letter is unreadable and incoherent. We met up with the Alamut Assassins the mentor has sent to Jerusalem. They were quite reluctant to talk about what was happening when they saw me but Peredur told them that I defected and was now ‘on the run’.
I am unfamiliar with such a phrase but Khalid did tell them that they were escorting me to visit my father for an indefinite amount of time.
I think they came to the conclusion that Khalid and Peredur have kidnapped me instead. Everyone seemed to think that they would be capable of doing such an underhanded tactic and are now pitying me for being captured and taken as a prisoner of some sort.
They did not kidnap me, I promise. I followed them out of Masyaf of my own volition and there are so many things I want to tell you but the Assassins sent to Jerusalem are leaving with Khalid right now. I wasn’t allowed to join you but they’ve agreed to give this letter to you.
I will pray for your safe return, Altaïr, and I’ll do everything I can to help my father and Desmond in your absence.
Safety and peace, my dear friend.
Altaïr folded the letter before handing it to Kasim. Diya al-Dīn didn’t show it but he was momentarily surprised by the action while Kasim took it without question. Kasim unfolded the letter and began to read it, probably only reading up to the end of the first paragraph before he folded it once more and handed it back to Altaïr as he said with a sigh, “I have no interest in your private letters, Altaïr.”
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he said, “This could have a secret code that might be orders from Rashid.”
“Does it have any secret code from Rashid?” Kasim asked dryly.
“No.”
“Then I’m not reading it.” Kasim pushed the letter to Altaïr’s chest before letting go. Altaïr quickly grabbed the letter before it fell on the floor as Kasim turned to look at Diya al-Dīn, “Please talk some sense to him, mentor.”
“I wonder what kind of sense you’d like me to talk to him about.” Diya al-Dīn asked with a smile, “He’s simply cooperating with your real mission, after all.”
Kasim sighed once more but didn’t say anything else which Diya al-Dīn took as his cue to talk to Altaïr about the most important thing right now.
“How’s your stay so far, Altaïr? No problems?” Diya al-Dīn asked as he continued to smile while Altaïr placed the letter inside one of the smaller pouches he had on his belt.
“I am doing well, thank you for asking. I don’t really need much sleep but I know I’m forbidden from patrolling so I’ve been writing my findings.” Altaïr took out two small journals from the biggest pouch on his belt and placed them on the table just as Kasim cautiously grabbed the fabric with the tea leaves and petals on it. Altaïr opened one of the journals as Kasim returned the leaves and petals back in the tea container.
“This one I mainly summarizes their symptoms and my theories. The one I gave you have all my notes and I thought it would be better to separate my guesses so I wrote it in this one.” Altaïr explained before opening the other journal, “This one I’m using to take notes of this place. I’ve made sketches of the ruins and drew a map as well.”
“How interesting…” Diya al-Dīn rubbed his chin as he looked at Altaïr instead of the journals in front of him. Diya al-Dīn glanced at Kasim before focusing on Altaïr as he asked, “Altaïr… do you believe that you will only be allowed to live if you are useful?”
Altaïr raised his head and stared back at Diya al-Dīn while Kasim froze. Diya al-Dīn dropped his hand and lightly tapped one of the journals as he commented, “Normally, when someone asks ‘how’s your stay?’, people would focus on their accommodations. Is it clean enough? Are the holes making the evening uncomfortably cold? Are the ground leveled enough that it doesn’t hurt your back?”
“Even if you do not wish to appear rude, you would still talk about it. ‘I could see such beautiful stars above me’ is just a kind way of saying ‘the holes on the roof are large enough that I can see the evening sky.’ for example.” Diya al-Dīn explained.
“You, however, simply said ‘I am doing well’ before admitting that you can’t sleep all that well.” Diya al-Dīn continued.
‘I don’t really need much sleep’.
Everybody needed similar amount of sleep. To say such a thing meant that someone was simply used to having less sleep than what was recommended.
“Have you tried drinking tea before you sleep?” They all glanced at the contaminated tea container before Diya al-Dīn amended, “Or perhaps warm milk with a bit of honey? Desmond once gave it to me when he was young and it did help.”
“I have not tried that…” Altaïr answered before admitting, “I don’t…”
Altaïr’s brows furrowed silently as he fell silent and Diya al-Dīn believed he was conflicted. Years of Rashid’s teaching ingrained upon his very being was stopping him from being completely honest.
No.
That wasn’t correct.
It was stopping him from showing what he perceived as weakness.
Normally, the best course of action would be to make Altaïr more comfortable. Asking Kasim to leave would be a good choice. While he was sure that Altaïr trusted Kasim to some extent, the fact that Kasim was here to keep an eye on Altaïr was an undeniable fact.
They cannot be certain of how detailed Kasim’s report to his father would be and his father Hasan had been keeping close ties with those who weren’t keen on Desmond taking Altaïr as his consort.
Which was surprising when Diya al-Dīn learned of it. Hasan was one of the few Assassins who had no interest in being bound to old traditions. Of the older Assassins, he expected Hasan to be more welcoming of Desmond being the next mentor, considering the changes Desmond had been making. Hasan was one of the few Assassins who supported how everyone, Assassins and scholars alike, would be paid.
He supposed Hasan’s qualm lies on Altaïr. As such, it would do Altaïr no favor if Diya al-Dīn was to use his status to order Kasim out of the room.
He supposed he would have to talk to Altaïr about his sleeping problems another day.
With Kasim dogging his every step, it would be better to try and help Altaïr with his awful sleeping habits in a way that it wouldn’t look like Altaïr needed help.
He’d invite Altaïr in the evening by the fire and give him warm milk. He’d even share some stories about Desmond to keep the man there until he, at least, warmed up and finished his drink.
For now…
“Desmond worries about my health quite a lot.” Diya al-Dīn started as he gave Altaïr a smile that he hoped would convey his understanding to Altaïr’s reluctance. Diya al-Dīn’s smile turned into a grin as he added, “There was one time, I caught a cold and he brewed me this awful drink. He just added everything that he believed could help with my cold and gave it a dash of honey before ordering me to drink it.”
“Did you drink it?” Altaïr asked curiously.
“Of course! How could I not when he worked hard for it? He even went foraging in the nearby forest to find some of the ingredients.” Diya al-Dīn answered, not even caring to hide the pride in his voice. Diya al-Dīn crossed his arms as he nodded, “He was so cute back then. Well…”
Diya al-Dīn corrected, “He is still cute, of course.”
“Of course.” Altaïr agreed immediately.
The two guards who remained by the door glanced at Kasim with twin looks of pity as Kasim was unable to escape, listening to Diya al-Dīn and his son-in-law as they continued to talk about Desmond.
Desmond has no idea where he heard it first but there was this saying that sneezing meant someone was talking about that person sneezing.
Desmond didn’t know why he suddenly remembered it after sneezing while doing the paperwork.
This was the first time he sneezed while working in his office.
It couldn’t have been dust or something similar. Recruits cleaned his office daily.
On an ungodly hour just so it would be nice and clean when Desmond comes in after breakfast.
Desmond did open the window before he started working so some kind of pollen or something might have come in.
Desmond really didn’t think that someone talking about him would make him sneeze, of course. If that was truly true then Desmond would have been sneezing a lot for years now.
Maybe he remembered the phrase wrong.
Desmond sighed and placed the quill he was using on top of the ink bottle.
There was something about reading reports concerning grains and other food supply that made his mind wander.
It was more accurate to say that his mind had been wandering more and more since…
Desmond pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.
It was fine.
Everything was fine.
They all looked alright when he connected with Aquila to take a quick look. Altaïr even noticed it was him and made the same sign the Brotherhood had to mean ‘all clear’.
Which wasn’t much considering he signed the word ‘poison’ yesterday, confirming Desmond’s theory to why he was observing three different goats.
But it still soothed a bit of his worry when Altaïr connected with Maud last night to pat his cheek good night like he had done ever since they agreed to ‘exchange’ eagles for now.
Altaïr’s connection with Maud wasn’t long enough for them to have any of kind conversation but Desmond knew that patting his cheek was Altaïr’s way of saying everything was okay.
The problem lied on the fact that Altaïr’s ‘okay’ was too similar to Desmond’s.
And Desmond now realized just how easy it was for him to understate the gravity of certain situations.
The casual way Altaïr signed the word poison back then was a clear indication of how he felt concerning the high possibility that the sickness Diya al-Dīn was treating wasn’t an illness but actual poisoning.
So, yeah, Desmond was still worried.
Sneezing could also mean that he might have a cold or something later.
And it was the worst time to be sick.
They tried to keep people from knowing about how there was a possible sickness nearby but the fact that Alamut Assassins had been sent to nearby villages to inform them that going to the ruins were forbidden for now due to an ‘unknown possible illness’ would inadvertently lead to gossips and rumors going all around the town underneath the castle.
Especially when people from nearby villages visit the castle regularly to peddle their goods and they were asked by the gates if they came close to the ruins every time.
Everyone was worried about anyone possibly getting sick.
And Desmond couldn’t even tell them that there was nothing to worry about because it wasn’t an illness but poison.
Desmond sighed and stood, walking towards the window.
It was a good thing that the past days have been nothing but clear skies. He wouldn’t wish for anyone to have to deal with rain while they were in the ruins.
No matter how many fabrics they took with them to cover holes, it still wouldn’t be as good as an actual roof.
Desmond rubbed the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the sill of the window. He took a deep breath, counted to five while holding his breath, before slowly breathing out.
That wasn’t the main problem though.
It was the fact that people were being poisoned in the Jerusalem bureau.
It was hard to get information using Aquila because Altaïr forbade Aquila from coming near the ruins. All he could do was fly above them without landing anywhere.
But from what Desmond had seen with Aquila’s eyes, the ones poisoned were only the novices, the Rafiq, setti and a child that they had taken from the bureau.
It was definitely strange.
Not to mention, Desmond did not have any memories of the bureau being poisoned from what remains of Altaïr’s Bleed.
This could mean a lot of things but the three main reason Desmond could think of were…
The Bleed did not have any memories of it because of how little remains from it in the first place. Even the memories Desmond had experienced via the Animus were more like memories shrouded in mist so it wasn’t surprising if a memory that Desmond himself had not relived would be hit even harder.
Altaïr never knew about the poisoning in the original timeline. Maybe it had been swept under the rug or the bureau had taken care of the poisoning case without Altaïr’s assistance. It wasn’t like Altaïr himself knew every single thing that happened in the bureaus and a poisoning in the bureau would probably be kept under wraps to ensure that everyone would still see bureaus as safe havens.
Or…
This poisoning happened because Desmond had messed up the timeline.
That wouldn’t exactly be surprising. The people that were part of the Basilisk’s faction that Altaïr would have probably assassinated this year were still alive, after all. They were an unknown variable now that could just as easily destroy everything Desmond knew would happen from this year and beyond.
But…
He had heard rumors of high ranking crusaders dying and they seemed to be in the same list that they compiled from Tyre.
He couldn’t even be sure if this was related and their deaths were connected to Robert de Sablé was cleaning house. Hell, maybe dying by Altaïr’s blade from the original timeline had been a boon for Robert de Sablé. Now he has to get his hands dirty and Desmond didn’t even feel sorry for the man.
More deaths meant more chance of Robert de Sablé messing up and making it easier for the Brotherhood to deal with the Templars later on.
And then there was the last guess he had about this poisoning incident.
It was possible that this could be related to the Apple sleeping underneath Jerusalem.
Considering how the Templars wouldn’t be able to just dig underneath the Temple Mount without anyone being suspicious, they would be starting to… make preparations by this time at the very least.
1191 was just a month and a half away and Jerusalem was still under Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s rule. The Templars needed to work quietly if they didn’t want anyone noticing what will be happening later next year. There was no way they could dig underneath Jerusalem quickly without anyone hearing the noise.
So they’d have to do it slow and quiet.
This meant that the Templars had every reason to keep the Jerusalem bureau busy with other more pressing things while they were preparing or were still starting to dig around.
Killing off the Rafiq without it being easily tied to them would be a ‘good’ move to make at this situation.
Desmond actually couldn’t remember why Malik became the Rafiq of Jerusalem when he was given the title of Dai. Most Assassins given the title of Dai usually remain in Masyaf to serve as part of Rashid’s council if he remembered correctly.
In Alamut, the title of Dai was given to those who would serve as the commander of an Assassin stronghold so there wasn’t a Dai in Alamut at all.
Unless one was to count Desmond being unofficially a ‘Dai’.
Desmond let out another sigh.
He needed more information.
Perhaps if someone could tell him where the poison came from, he would have an idea of who the poisoner could be.
Without an actual report, Desmond was just going to lose hours upon hours guessing the day away.
As if to remind Desmond that time was ticking, he heard a knock before one of the Assassins guarding the door said, “Desmond, Rawiya has sent a message.”
“Peredur has returned with Kadar Al-Sayf.”
Chapter 87
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Chapter Text
Alamut Castle was an imposing figure even from far away. Having a forest nearby would have been a dangerous oversight that enemies could use to hide in but he saw a pack of wolves by the edge of the forest, staring at them silently.
“That’s the pack that lives in the forest.” Peredur informed him as they passed them on their horses. They were riding slower than Kadar would have liked, considering how close the wolves were.
It wouldn’t even take the wolves five minutes to reach them if they ran as fast as they could and could just as easily close the distance even if they ordered the horses to gallop at top speed the moment they started to chase them. It was dangerous to keep such a close distance with a predator while on horseback no matter how Kadar looked at it.
“They won’t attack us.” Peredur informed him.
“How are you sure?” Kadar asked with furrowed brows, keeping his eyes on the wolves.
Peredur hummed as he looked at the sky.
Kadar didn’t understand why Peredur was thinking so hard about this. If Alamut’s official stance on a wolf pack so close to the castle and the nearby villages was that they wouldn’t attack people then there should be a logical reason behind it, right?
Were they trained in the castle when they were young then sent out in the forest to serve as a some kind of early detection for any possible recon missions from their enemies?
“’Cause… Desmond said so?” Peredur finally answered, turning to grin at Kadar.
Kadar blinked and turned to look at Peredur.
“Oh, I see!” Kadar replied with a bright smile.
Considering Desmond was the one and only person to have ever captured Altaïr’s heart, it would make sense that he would be quite knowledgeable.
He must know something about these wolves that he couldn’t share with others for a reason.
As expected from the man Altaïr loved!
One of the Assassins behind them sighed before informing Kadar, “We’re reaching the foot of the mountain. Kadar, it would be best if you stay in the middle. We’ll head straight to the castle and report to Des-”
They heard two short whistles and one long whistle coming just ahead of them, in a small house a few meters to their left. An Assassin waved his right hand at them.
“It’s Rawiya.” The Assassin behind Kadar noted, “The protocol for contagious illness must be in place.”
Everyone quieted while Peredur mumbled, “Ah, shit. I should have expected this.”
Kadar followed their lead as they rode their horse towards the small house instead of continuing the road that would lead them to the mountain.
“Welcome home.” Rawiya greeted with a grin as they disembarked from their horses. They quickly tied the horses on the railings next to the house, covered by a simple wooden roof above them.
“We’ll take care of the horses.” One of the Assassins that were part of the team sent to retrace the Jerusalem team’s path volunteered the rest of his team.
“Thanks.” Peredur patted the Assassin's arm before nodding at Kadar. Kadar took that as a silent order to follow him and they all went inside the house with Rawiya keeping the door opened for them.
“This was not the welcoming party I expected.” Peredur lightly commented as he looked around. It was a small home that housed people who had to be checked first before they were allowed entry to the castle. Because the process only took an hour or so on an average, a day at most, it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable of dwelling but it was heaven for those who had been on the road for quite a while.
The entire house was only one big room with a small kitchen on one side and a large empty space for them to place their cot in on the other side. The kitchen’s fire also served to warm the home during cold days. There used to be a table and some chairs inside but Peredur noted that they had been placed outside.
They must have removed them to make sure there was enough space for everyone that needed to stay here.
There were more chests than the last time he stayed here to take a break after patrolling the nearby areas. Those chests would be filled with dry meat and vegetables that was there for emergency. If a visitor was to take anything from them, they would be charged by the gates since the Brotherhood inspects this house before letting people inside Alamut.
“Yeah, sorry about that.” Rawiya rubbed the back of his neck before sighing, “When we learned about the illness, the mentor’s protocols were put into place. Everyone who might have contact with the bureau in Jerusalem or our brothers in the ruins are to stay here for two weeks before they’re allowed back inside.”
Peredur noticed that there was already a small bag placed in the leftmost cot. He stared at it as he asked, “Someone has already been staying here?”
“That would be me.” Rawiya said with a smile, making Peredur turn to stare at him.
“You’ve been here alone ever since because you had contact with them?” Peredur asked, unable to hide his worry. He could see Rawiya’s brother looked ready to drag his younger brother out of the room and talk to him, probably prod him and ask him if he was feeling alright and all that.
He rarely saw Rawiya with any of his brothers as their shifts rarely aligned but he heard the three of them always visited their father for dinner unless they had an urgent matter to attend to.
“Oh, no. I volunteered to stay here.” Rawiya answered with an easy grin, “I figured people would feel better if the person telling them what’s going on was with them and not shouting on top of the castle walls.”
“That’s…” Peredur sighed and turned to look at the cots as he said, “Stupidly kind of you.”
“I like to think of this as a vacation of sort. No need to patrol or think about work at all. Patrolling while the chance of carrying the same illness is a bad move, after all.” Rawiya commented before laughing. When no one joined him, he just shrugged and turned to give his brother an apologetic smile, “It’s okay, Nahir. Hameez is making sure father takes all his medicine and eat well. Plus…”
Rawiya patted his brother’s shoulder as he gave him a carefree grin, “We’ll be fine. This is all just precaution, after all.”
Nahir’s lips opened but he didn’t utter a word. Instead, he closed his lips and stared at his younger brother for a moment before letting out a sigh. He rubbed his face as he asked, “I assume this place is fully stocked?”
“Of course.” Rawiya nodded as he listed, “Mostly dry food we can boil and a few spices from Desmond’s own supplies. He gave them to me when I left. Oh, Desmond also told me to set up a small garden by the window sill in the kitchen and made me bring everything I needed. It’s growing herbs that’s supposed to have medicinal application or something. I think he stole it from the mentor’s medicinal garden back in the castle.”
Rawiya shrugged as he admitted, “He didn’t tell me how to use them so I just add a few leaves for each meal to be sure.”
Nahir immediately walked towards the chests that held those supplies. Each chest only had a specific food item to make it easier to see if they were getting low on anything specific.
That was why it was easy to see the discrepancy of amounts.
“Rawiya.” Nahir turned to smile at his younger brother, “Why does it seem like there’s less meat than vegetables in these chests?”
“Oh? Really? I didn’t notice.”
Rawiya’s smile was charming for sure.
But it was definitely practiced.
Nahir stood and walked towards his brother, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder as he continued to smile, “You and father have a bad habit of only eating what you want when you’re left alone. This is why we can’t leave you two by yourselves.”
Nahir wrapped an arm around Rawiya’s neck and pulled him down to ruffle his hair furiously as he calmly said, “Maybe I should agree to our brother’s suggestion of just getting a large house for both our families and getting the two of you to live there. It will definitely be easier to make sure you two would have someone always there to make sure you eat your vegetables.”
“Heyheyheyhey, stop it! I’m not a kid anymore! Stop!” Rawiya tried to pull out of his brother’s grip but only ended up kicking behind him without any real target.
Peredur turned to look at the rest of their party as he said, “They’ll be going at it for a while so let’s pick where we'll sleep and try to get some rest.”
“I’ll tell the others.” One of the Assassins said before leaving the house to talk to the ones taking care of the horses.
“Do you think this will finally be the day that they’ll get a new home and live together?” One of the remaining Assassins asked dryly.
Considering Nahir and Hameez had been using that as some kind of threat for about three years now, Peredur doubted it. He knew that the two would never do it unless their father agreed and their father was just as stubborn as most retired Assassins Peredur had met.
“We’ll just have to wait and see.” Peredur patted the Assassin on the shoulder before adding, “We should prepare our meals in groups moving forward though. We’ll think of a rotation later. For now, let’s all take some time to rest.”
“I’ll make us some tea then.” The Assassin stated and walked away before Peredur could say anything to stop him.
Peredur sighed while the other Assassins walked towards the cots to rest as they’ve been ordered to. Peredur walked towards Kadar who was still staring at them and said, “Sorry, Kadar.”
“For what?” Kadar turned to look at him with curious bright eyes.
“This isn’t what I wanted you to experience when you joined us.” Peredur rubbed the back of his neck as he admitted, “I mean, of course, I know we can’t control these kinds of things but I know you also joined because-”
“It’s fine, Peredur.” Kadar turned to look at Rawiya and his brother still going at it as he said, “I think this is for the best, to be honest.”
Peredur tilted his head, confused by why Kadar would think such a thing.
“This way I can take the time to get used to how different things are here compared to Masyaf.” Kadar’s smile weakened as he admitted, “We would have never even thought of doing such playful things back home.”
Peredur glanced at the two brothers who had reverted to boys wrestling in the middle of a small home before turning to face Kadar once more, “Man, the more I hear about Masyaf, the more I feel like it’s such a cold place.”
Kadar chuckled lightly before saying, “I’m quite sure it’s not as bad as you’re imagining right now. There’s a lot of kind people there and the villagers have always been nice to us. It’s just...”
He glanced at the two brothers once more before saying, “Such blatant displays of affections would have gotten us a light scolding.”
“Sounds boring.” Peredur commented, making Kadar laughed once more, “But, hey, if you want to play a game or something, we can do that. We’ll be staying here for a while anyway.”
Peredur rubbed his chin as he thought out loud, “We should play games that can be played by a lot of people. Something that wouldn’t be too hard or would make us want to kill each other if we lose.”
Kadar stared at him quietly.
To be completely honest, he was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to see his father any time soon.
But...
“Thank you, Peredur.”
Peredur placed an arm around his shoulder as he grinned, “Don’t worry, Kadar. By the time we’re allowed to enter the castle, everyone here will be your new best friends!”
Kadar highly doubted it.
He knew that a lot of them were wary of him for being born and raised in Masyaf.
But that was fine with Kadar.
Because he knew that he already had someone he could consider as a close friend with him in this small house.
“Poison?”
“I have no official confirmation but yes, that seems to be the leading theory behind this supposed illness.” Desmond explained calmly as he stared at mentors in front of him, his own tea left to cool, “Until we’re absolutely certain that it isn’t an illness, Altaïr has forbade Aquila from coming near the ruins to make sure he doesn’t catch anything.”
Desmond kept his hands in front of him with fingers entwined as he continued, “But he did signed our hand gesture for ‘poison’ and I have confirmed he was testing something using three goats.”
“That must be our beloved’s idea. They must have found something they believe could be poison and are testing it using those goats.” Dvora noted, making Desmond nod at her to show he had the same guess.
“And the ones who had just returned?” Nur asked as she and the rest of the mentor remained sitting on the other side of the table.
“Maud has confirmed three of those Assassins are volunteers who accompanied father and Altaïr to the ruins.” Desmond reported. They all glanced at the eagle who had perched herself on the tray filled with fresh fruits. She wasn’t eating any of them but she glared at anyone who dared even come close.
Desmond knew that she didn’t eat fruits in general. This was just her way of showing her superiority (rebellious side) to everyone.
Bennu had grumbled when he tried to come close and almost got pecked before returning to his usual perch.
Maud was scarily good at remembering faces and Desmond was used to asking the right questions to get the information from their aviary children so it didn’t take long for Maud to report to Desmond.
She even looked unimpressed when Desmond tried to reward her with treats.
Desmond was pretty sure she was offended that Desmond would believe she could be ‘cajoled’ by treats of all things.
“They were probably sent back to report to us. They’ll follow the proper procedure and report to Rawiya as the highest ranking member of the Brotherhood while they’re isolated.” Desmond continued, “I trust Rawiya to make the right decision concerning the report he’ll get from both teams.”
“How do you think we should proceed then, Desmond?” Raiza asked as she placed the tea cup back on the table.
“We should still assume it is a contagious illness until we have confirmation that it is poison from father himself.” Desmond suggested, “This also means Rawiya and the others will continue to be isolated.”
He paused for a brief second before adding, “We should also add more patrols so we can meet up with the other returning teams and any visitors we may have before they reach the foot of the mountain. While the house we’re using to isolate them is far enough from the road for it to be an immediate concern, we should still escort them to the castle to make sure they don’t come near the others out of curiosity or accident.”
“And if they ask why?” Raiza prodded.
“We’ll tell our brothers that there’s a possible contagious illness nearby and we just want to lessen the chance of anyone getting it.” Desmond answered as he placed his entwined hands on the table, “If they’re merchants or travelers, the patrols will tell them it was a coincidence and it is their duty to escort them to Alamut as part of their patrol.”
“It’s not exactly a lie.” Desmond shrugged, “It is a duty of those out patrolling to guide guests to Alamut.”
Nur nodded, having been the one to give Desmond a run down of the many traditions in Alamut back when he was still studying under them.
“Then we shall do it your way, Desmond.” Raiza looked at her fellow mentors who nodded at her before turning to look at Desmond as she said, “We’ve been observing you since you took over your father's duties and we’ve agreed that we will take a step back as of this day.”
Desmond blinked as he straightened.
“As of today, you will be the acting mentor instead of taking your father’s place as our representative. You will still report to us so we will know what is happening outside but we will only give you advice and we will ask you how you would proceed.” Raiza continued, “Every plan will be yours to make and implement. From this day forward, you will wield the power of the mentor and bear its responsibilities and duties.”
“I…” Desmond frowned as he asked in a small voice, “Do you think I’m ready for such a thing?”
“No one is truly ready for such a heavy responsibility.” Dvora answered softly, reaching out to place a gentle hand over Desmond’s, “We were not ready when we became the mentor. Do you know how we managed to keep the Brotherhood from falling apart even after Rashid left? How we healed the wounds left behind by your grandfather’s death?”
“How?”
“Our beloved supported us.” Dvora squeezed Desmond’s hands as she continued, “And countless others supported him. That makes all the difference.”
“We will still be here to offer you our suggestions and thoughts.” Raiza reminded him, “It is up to you what you do with them.”
Nur shook her head fondly before saying, “What Raiza means to say is that we’ll be here to support you, just as there are many others you can request assistance from.”
“I’ll… I’ll do my best.” Desmond said with a mirthless smile before sighing, “I should talk to Faheem first. He should know by now that Kadar is staying with Rawiya and the others.”
There really wasn’t any real reason to still talk to Faheem about it but Faheem deserved to hear the news from Desmond himself.
Also, he wanted to see if Faheem was alright. He was still under the impression that there was a contagious sickness going around nearby after all.
“Of course.” Raiza nodded before adding, “We will have to wait for this ‘illness’ to be cured before hearing both the Jerusalem team and the Masyaf team’s reports. If you trust Raw-”
Dvora cleared her throat, causing Raiza to stop talking.
“We trust that you will do well, Desmond.” Raiza said instead and Desmond chuckled.
That was the best apology he’d get from Raiza, not out of malice but out of her awkwardness.
That was fine.
“I’ll do my best.” Desmond answered instead.
Chapter Text
Altaïr was bored.
There was no other way to explain it.
Considering Khalid was the expert when it concerned poison, it just made sense for him to take the lead in finding out if that tea was poison.
He’d been busy looking over the internal organs of the goats but he still took the time to smile as he suggested Altaïr assist him when he saw Altaïr hovering around quietly.
Altaïr had agreed and took on the job of writing down all of Khalid’s observation. Sometimes, he would ask any questions he could think of and jotted Khalid’s answer.
Khalid’s practice of looking at internal organs to see the damage wasn’t that unique but Khalid was simply giving out observations that could be considered important to the damage done by the poison.
Altaïr asked questions both to ensure the notes would be as detailed as possible but also to lower the chance they would miss anything because Khalid wasn’t saying everything he was thinking.
The liver was severely damaged as they had expected but Khalid noticed there were also signs of the heart taking a hit. Altaïr simply asked if it could be related or was it possible that the goat had already had heart problems before the poisoning.
Khalid answered that the heart of the sick goat that had only been given poison once a day was also showing signs but the healthy goat had no damage at all and Altaïr jotted that down as a possible symptom as well.
Or all the main symptoms caused the heart to do more than it normally did to compensate and that caused the damage. The damaged heart may not be a symptom but a result of the other symptoms racking the body.
They included that part to the report they gave to the mentor and the mentor’s expression grew dark.
It wasn’t surprising.
If it truly damaged the heart, there was a possibility that those that have been suffering the longest, the Rafiq, his family and the novices, would carry their damaged heart even after they were cured.
After the goats were buried as deep as they could so no wild animal would dig the bodies up, Khalid took over one of the empty houses and started doing something with the tea leaves.
The day Khalid started to use that house for his experiments on the poisonous tea, three Assassins begged Altaïr to not come near the house or Khalid at all.
Altaïr assumed that those Assassins were suspicious of him and thought he might mess with the antidote so he relented.
It was important for Khalid’s findings to be accepted without any shadow of a doubt.
He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Kasim was the only spy sent to keep an eye on him. The risk of someone questioning or even spreading rumors wasn’t something that Altaïr could ignore just because he was curious of Khalid’s research.
He’d talk to Khalid about it once everything was done.
Perhaps they’d even write a small journal about this experience. He already wrote a proposal of how they could prepare for a similar situation in the future, written in the journal where he wrote letters addressed to Desmond every night.
It had started out as just another letter addressed to Desmond but the more he wrote, the more ideas came to him and he jotted them down.
He knew that Desmond would read all of the letters he had written in his journal after they have returned to Alamut. It was still too dangerous for them to send anything back until Khalid confidently announce that it was, without a shadow of a doubt, poison and not a sickness.
It was during one of the time that Altaïr was writing another letter to Desmond that Kasim asked him if he was alright.
Altaïr was impressed that it took Kasim two days before trying to strike up a conversation. He was sure the man was just as bored keeping an eye on him.
Altaïr had no reason to believe he had to lie to Kasim so he told him that it was fine that other people were suspicious of him and he’d rather the antidote that Khalid would make not be questioned at all.
Kasim looked at him for a moment before asking dryly, “Are you truly being stupid right now?”
For a brief moment, Altaïr was reminded of Malik Al-Sayf. The Kasim that he talked to back when he was looking for evidence that people had been poisoned would have never been so rude.
Altaïr would like to think this meant that he and Kasim were getting used to one another.
Kasim must have thought that Altaïr’s silence was because of his question and he sighed before shaking his head, “They’re trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Altaïr repeated with a slight tilt of his head.
“Now that Khalid’s confident he can make a cure and he’s commandeered that house into being his emergency lab, everyone knows what comes next. Khalid would try to make antidotes and would ‘ask’ his assistants to test it with him.” Kasim explained, “Khalid himself has a resistance to poisons in general and those tests are only meant to see if they would have any severe side effects that would be of danger to the patients. Those men volunteered to be Khalid’s testers so you won’t be poisoned.”
Kasim waved his hand as he added, “By danger, I don’t mean life threatening. Everyone knows Khalid would never test something on us if he wasn’t sure it was ‘safe’. Danger in this case meant something like vomiting or diarrhea.”
“Maybe having stomach aches that come and go for an entire day.” Kasim mumbled and Altaïr couldn’t help but wonder if Kasim had volunteered to test for Khalid before and he was speaking from experience.
Altaïr’s brows furrowed as he said calmly, “I don’t mind being poisoned.”
Altaïr himself had drank a few poisons when he was a recruit to develop a resistance to them as well.
Everyone in Masyaf had. That was why Altaïr himself told Khalid to focus his tests on checking if it was a type of poison that wasn’t part of the Brotherhood’s poison resistance training.
If Rashid or Harash was the mastermind behind the poisoning, they would choose a poison that the Assassins weren’t resistant to.
“All of us don’t mind being poisoned if it meant being able to save our brothers. We trust Khalid not to kill us.” Kasim agreed but sighed once more, “But that doesn’t mean we’ll be alright if others were poisoned in our place.”
Altaïr opened his mouth but Kasim beat him to it, “Those men didn’t want you to be poisoned because they believed you would do better being healthy and moving about.”
“Also…” Kasim gave Altaïr a mirthless smile as he dryly asked, “Do you think anyone here would want to face Desmond’s wrath once he learns that we let you volunteer yourself to be poisoned?”
Oh.
That… makes sense, Altaïr supposed.
Altaïr did promise Desmond that he would try his best to not get hurt.
Being poisoned, even if it was to assist Khalid in finding an antidote, would have made Desmond sad.
“I understand.” Altaïr nodded, “I will find other ways to be of help.”
This, however, left Altaïr in his current state of boredom.
He was left with nothing else to do.
The ruins were as clean as they could make it so all that was left were the daily tasks like sweeping the floor or changing the bedding of the patients.
There was no way a Master Assassin like Altaïr would be allowed to do such menial work.
He wasn’t allowed to help with the cooking, not because people feared he’d poison it but because he held no skill in cooking in general. Everyone in Alamut knew by now that Altaïr believed boiling everything counts as cooking.
Altaïr would try to defend himself and say that he can cut and prepare ingredients well enough if he had instructions but he had a feeling the whole ‘Altaïr thinks boiling everything at the same time is cooking’ fact has turned into ‘Altaïr is a disaster in the kitchen’ story and he’d just sound like he was trying to defend his honor if he pushed against that story.
With meal duty being taken out of his possible tasks, Altaïr was left with nothing.
He used to help Desmond’s father in taking care of the patients when he was checking the goats’ status. Simple errands like bringing water or helping patients in sitting up if the mentor deemed it necessary to check their back or something else.
But, once Khalid took over the testing for poison, Altaïr had dedicated his time in assisting him together with Kasim. Because of this, other Assassins took over Altaïr’s duties as the mentor’s aides.
He did try to help them out but there was really nothing left for him to take over without rudely pushing another Assassin out.
Even the mentor had laughed when he asked to be given any task, no matter how menial it was, and told Altaïr to take the rest of the day off.
“Is it so hard for you to just have a day without nothing to do?” Kasim asked as he joined Altaïr in lying down on one of the sturdier roofs, staring at the clouds.
It was close to two days, actually, but Altaïr didn’t feel like correcting him on that.
“I’m sure you also share the same restlessness I feel.” Altaïr commented instead. He knew for a fact that Kasim was left with nothing to do as well because he had been helping Khalid with Altaïr.
Even if his true mission was to keep an eye on Altaïr, Kasim must also be bored out of his mind considering Altaïr was ‘cloud watching’ for the past thirty minutes or so.
To be completely honest, he had only did this once before when he was but a simple novice himself. Kadar had just started out as a recruit and he suggested they relax for a bit while cloud watching. It was the first time Altaïr saw Malik actually do something unproductive, indulging his younger brother and lying down on the roof of their home with Kadar and Altaïr.
It had been a good day, listening to the brothers bicker about the shapes of the clouds and what they reminded them of.
Cloud watching with Kasim though had only led to complete silence. It wasn’t too uncomfortable for Altaïr to get up and try and find something else to do but it also wasn’t comfortable enough that he could just start talking about cloud shapes and what they reminded him of.
“I don’t mind just relaxing today.” Kasim finally said, “We have been on our feet with barely any rest since Khalid came. Everyone knows the only time you’ve rested was during the evening and…”
Altaïr closed his eyes as Kasim continued, “Everyone’s seen you wake up in the middle of the night to write.”
Altaïr opened his eyes and explained calmly, “I don’t need that much sleep.”
Kasim simply sighed before he said, “I’m sure.”
Altaïr ignored the resignation he heard in Kasim’s voice.
“If I had a book I could read that would be different.” Altaïr admitted, trying to…
He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, to be completely honest.
It might sound like he was trying to defend himself but he didn’t really care all that much if people saw him as someone incapable of relaxing. He knew it wasn’t true.
He supposed he just… wanted to share his thoughts?
Kasim was quiet for a moment before he said, “I know we didn’t bring any books but maybe the people from Jerusalem did?”
He doubted it.
They left in a hurry as far as Altaïr could tell. Unless it was something important that could not be left in the bureau.
Or…
Some kind of book that no one would want their brothers to see for it concerned the intimacy between two people.
… or possibly more than two people.
The former could possibly place his situation in Alamut in danger if he was to read it.
The latter was something Altaïr had no interest in.
If Altaïr knew that he would have so much free time, he would have brought a book or two.
…
Wait.
Altaïr sat up, making Kasim pull his upper body slightly with his elbows and arms taking most of his weight so he could look at Altaïr better.
“I can just write.” Altaïr realized with a solemn expression on his face.
Kasim blinked before he asked, “I thought you already finished writing everything you know about the poison?”
Kasim glanced around them before he asked, “Or is this about the ruins? I thought you already completed your survey and proposal about that?”
“I have.” Altaïr nodded.
Hearing Altaïr confirm it only made Kasim realize how much Altaïr had finished just because he had trouble sleeping.
A lot of scholars back home would be jealous of Altaïr’s focus.
“Nahel told me about his proposal that I write a chapter for Peredur’s book when we returned from Tyre. A special chapter set in Shahbaz’s eyes.” Altaïr explained, “I only told him that I’ll think about it. Between talking to the scholars about their research and sparring with our brothers, I’ve not really had time to actually write anything.”
And any other free time he did have, he’d rather spend with Desmond even if it was just him reading while Desmond worked on his paperwork.
Altaïr rubbed his chin as he thought out loud, “There should still be journals I can get from the supplies we brought, correct? How long should the chapter be? An entire journal would be enough at the very least, I suppose?”
The more Altaïr spoke, the wider Kasim’s eyes became.
Everyone knew about Peredur’s books, of course. The scholars had been trying to poach Peredur from the Brotherhood since his first book was successful and many of them had been curious enough to read it.
Kasim himself read the first book to his younger siblings back when they were in Rudkhan Castle.
The second and third books though, he was sure his sister had read to their younger siblings. She wanted to read them out loud because she was a ‘big girl’ now who can read and write well enough that their father complimented her and said she has a nicer handwriting than Kasim.
And he was honestly dreading the day she would read the latest book out loud. He had only heard the rumors, of course. The scholars had no qualms in threatening to kill them (or die trying) if they even try to take a peek of the new book. Only the proofreaders and copiers were allowed to see it.
Kasim fully sat up and turned to stare at Altaïr as he tried to salvage the situation, “Filling a journal is definitely more than one chapter. Two to three pages would be enough, right?”
He might not be an expert to writing but he was pretty sure one page would be enough but he had a feeling Altaïr would not like that so this was the best compromise he could think of.
“Three pages are not enough for me to write about my feelings for Desmond.” Altaïr stated in a tone that ordered no opposition.
Kasim could have done a lot of different things in this situation. He could have tried to appeal to Altaïr’s logic and reason with him about how the request had been for only a special chapter, not an actual book.
But…
Altaïr would do the logical thing and ask Khalid if it was alright if he just wrote an entire book instead. He had heard rumors of Peredur’s team learning of a thing called ‘special edition’ that could be priced much higher than usual and they have been thinking about how to do such a thing without relying on just reprinting the same books with different covers or something equally bland in their eyes. Kasim knew that Khalid would approve of this even though this kind of thing should be approved by the head of the scholar tower first.
Fortunately for Khalid and Altaïr, Faheem’s power over what can and cannot be done by their team was limited. The scholars would support anything that they do that would give them profit to fund their research and Faheem only reviewed all of them to ensure none of Peredur’s works would be a danger to the Brotherhood.
The more Kasim thought about, the more he was sure it was inevitable that Altaïr would write an entire book. Whether it was good or bad wasn’t the important.
The important thing was that Kasim would be so bored just watching Altaïr write.
And he had been reading everything Altaïr had wrote since he started his mission. At first, he asked to borrow the journals Altaïr was using to write down the mentor’s findings with an excuse of wanting to check something.
But Altaïr was smart. He knew immediately that Kasim was reading his writings to check if he didn’t write a code or anything that could be used against Alamut or the mentor.
So he also shared the journal where he wrote the letters for Desmond to Kasim without waiting for Kasim to make up an excuse.
Kasim wasn’t entirely sure if Altaïr was truly being sincere or…
If this was his way of punishing Kasim for being sent to keep an eye on him. It was different from Kadar Al-Sayf’s letter to him.
The letters were for Desmond and there were still those who were wary of Altaïr’s relationship with Desmond.
Kasim didn’t even want to read his letters. He felt that it was too much to read such private letters but his father’s orders were clear and Kasim wasn’t going to jeopardize his father’s goals because of his own discomfort nor because he wanted to shake Altaïr and tell him that he should get angry over this much invasion of privacy.
If there was any code in any of the letters Altaïr wrote for Desmond, they were impossible to see. All the letters weren’t scandalous in nature but the sincerity of Altaïr’s feelings for Desmond could be felt from each word.
Some of the sentences were a bit embarrassing, sounding more like reports to be sent to the Rafiq or the mentor but nothing was more embarrassing than having to read about how Altaïr missed watering the flower bed with Desmond.
Or spending quiet moments simply in each other’s company, reading and working in the same room…
Kasim must do what his father ordered him to but that didn’t mean he would just let himself be carried by the currents.
“How about we spar for a bit, Altaïr? Clear our heads and move our bodies.” Kasim suggested, not entirely sure what was coming out of his mouth.
Altaïr frowned as he reminded him, “We both agreed it would be rude to spar when all our brothers are busy with work.”
Yes, they both agreed that sparring was not a good idea at the moment.
That had been their last idea before laying down and trying to watch the clouds instead.
“Then…” Kasim glanced around, noticing a small figure distantly.
Watching them…
“A hunt.” Kasim realized, “We can go hunting.”
Altaïr tilted his head.
“We’ll catch something and you can prepare it. While you are banned from the kitchens, that doesn’t mean you are not allowed to hunt.” Kasim argued, “The team sent to hunt today should be preparing right now. I’m sure they would be happy for our help.”
Kasim placed a hand on Altaïr’s shoulder, making Altaïr turn his eyes to stare at the foreign hand, as he continued, “They would love to see you hunt. Perhaps they’d even ask you questions about their form and how they could be better.”
Altaïr turned to stare at him and Kasim knew the man was still not convinced.
“You will be helping out without necessarily going against the mentor’s orders to ‘relax’.” Kasim said, “If anyone asks, this is your way of relaxing.”
And one final push to ensure his victory…
“You can also hunt something for your son.”
“I understand.” Altaïr nodded, “Let’s go see the team and request that we be included.”
Kasim nodded.
Knowing full well he simply delayed the inevitable.
That day, Aquila thought that the poor man from Masyaf wasn’t all that hopeless. He did, after all, take down a few rabbits for him as a reward.
He didn’t season and dry them though…
So he was still hopeless.
He was so lucky Aquila’s father loved him.
Notes:
Just to be clear, while there are some poison that our body can develop a resistance to if we were to drink/eat a bit regularly, this isn’t really a good practice but it’s a very common trope that could have been used during the 12th century. For more information, here’s the wiki page of mithridatism which is it’s official name.
Chapter 89
Notes:
Not beta'ed due to RL
Chapter Text
The other teams returned the following days, escorted by one of the groups patrolling the nearby areas to ensure they wouldn’t accidentally come near the house by the foot of the mountain. The patrols did report that they could hear singing and merriment coming from the house and anyone outside would take the time to shout at them to take care during their patrols whenever they see them.
While Desmond would be lying if he said that he wasn’t worried, it still helped relaxed him even for just a bit, knowing that they were still able to laugh and enjoy their days even though the circumstances leading to their isolation was not pleasant at all
A week after they received word that Khalid joined Diya al-Dīn in the ruins, a messenger from Khalid’s team arrived at the foot of the mountain. They made a fire and threw the powder that made the smoke turn green.
Green meant they found a cure but there was some kind of complication.
Another Assassin volunteered to hear their report and soon returned to the castle with the letter written by Desmond’s father, already opened by the Assassin to check the contents.
Diya al-Dīn has confirmed that their illness was due to poisoning and he wished for the proper procedure to take over their current protocol as soon as possible.
That was all Desmond needed to lift the protocol in place and bring the others staying in the house by the foot of the mountain home.
The first to return home was those who had been staying at the foot of the mountain. They all looked healthy and well.
They all had only good things to say about Kadar but Desmond still felt bad for leaving him there at the foot of the mountain when he had, in many ways, betrayed Masyaf.
“I’m sorry your first impression of Alamut was like this, Kadar.” Desmond said as he walked Kadar to the mentor’s tower with Peredur and Rawiya following behind them quietly.
“Oh, I understand! I’m just glad there’s a cure.” Kadar hurriedly said, giving Desmond a small smile as he continued, “And everyone has treated me quite well. They’ve all been nice to me.”
Desmond glanced behind them and both Peredur and Rawiya nodded with Peredur even giving Desmond a thumbs up.
Desmond chuckled as he said, “I’m glad that they’ve made you feel welcomed, regardless of the circumstances.”
From his friends’ reaction, it seemed like Kadar would have a lot of Assassins backing up his claim that he was there out of his own free will and not as Rashid’s Assassin.
“If anything… I should apologize to you and Altaïr.” Kadar admitted as they walked up the stairs.
“Hm?” Desmond turned to look at him and tilted his head in silent question.
“Um…” Kadar looked at the stairs beneath him and Desmond was about to suggest they continue their talk once they reached the next floor since it was dangerous but Kadar just blurted out, “I couldn’t steal Altaïr’s bride price!”
Desmond blinked.
Then he looked at his friends behind Kadar.
Peredur looked serious while Rawiya placed a hand on the wall to keep himself steady while covering his mouth, trying to rein in his laughter.
Alright, they heard the same thing Desmond did then.
“Um… why would you need to steal Altaïr’s bride price?” Desmond asked.
“When Al Mu- I mean, when Rashid learned that Altaïr wasn’t going to leave you and return to Masyaf, he had his room searched-”
From the look of frustration and anger on Kadar’s face, Desmond guessed ransacked was a better word for what happened but Kadar was too polite to use it.
“They found the bride price that Altaïr’s father left him.” Kadar explained, barely holding back his frustration, “It was confiscated and given to the one in charge with Masyaf’s coffers.”
“We tried to steal it back but…” Kadar continued and Desmond glanced at Peredur. Peredur raised his left hand and poked his palm with his right point finger.
It was in his report then. He hadn’t read it together with Rawiya’s summary of the same report because of how hectic things were at the moment.
“They already added it to the coffers.”
Okay, the most pressing thing was that Desmond felt like Kadar should be saying this to Altaïr, not to him. It was, after all, the money that Umar left his son.
But, considering Kadar was supportive of their relationship, Desmond get that Kadar was apologizing to Desmond because he believed that Desmond was supposed to receive that money.
… Desmond was just going to ignore the implication of that.
“They added it in the coffers, right?”
Desmond turned around and smiled when he saw Faheem standing by the edge of the stairs, looking down at them.
“There would be a journal that recorded everything added and taken out of the coffer.” Faheem explained and Desmond stepped the side, knowing that Faheem was talking to his son, “Once Rashid is taken care of, we’ll just have someone look at the journals and look for Altaïr’s bride price there. We can take it from the coffers afterwards.”
“Or…” Faheem’s lips curved into a small smile, “We can take it out of Rashid’s personal coffers as well.”
Kadar’s face brightened as he said, “That’s a wonderful idea, father!”
Desmond looked at the two and tried his best not to sigh.
He was honestly expecting a more heartwarming reunion but…
Honestly?
This felt more like an Al-Sayf reunion than any sweet embrace they might share.
Desmond only talked to Kadar for a bit after that, welcoming him and apologizing for his lack of hospitality once more.
Kadar was to remain with his father for the time being while everything was going on, more as a safety precaution for himself and everyone else.
Now that Diya al-Dīn sent his orders as the doctor of Alamut, there were a lot of things that must be taken care as soon as possible.
Khalid requested certain ingredients that Desmond was the only one allowed to handle in his absence. They were necessary for the antidote and it seemed their exclusion to the cure was the complication that the fire signal was about.
This meant that it was direly important that these ingredients were handled with the utmost care.
Desmond must prep them before Khalid returned, an hour or so now that he had sent this reply since Rawiya already rode off with the other Assassins to bring the news that Alamut has opened her doors for everyone to return home.
The first to return was Khalid and he immediately went to his table, just as Desmond expected. Desmond had prepped everything by then and they barely managed to greet one another before Desmond had to go back to work.
The entire west wing had to be checked for a final cleaning. That didn’t took long because recruits cleaned the castle every two days, alternating between the west and east wing. The west wing was used to house guests and people who weren’t members of the Brotherhood or scholars so they were at the very least clean enough in case of the sudden appearance of a guest or visitor of high standing.
All who had been poisoned would not be resting there.
The travel to the castle would be too much for them and they could not risk any danger that the winding road may cause.
No.
Desmond opened the castle for the families who offered their homes in the town below the castle.
Desmond had expected that it would take quite some convincing but the townspeople had volunteered once they learned that it wasn’t an illness but a poisoning. Desmond was sure there would be rumors and gossips on who could have poisoned Assassins but Desmond was also sure that they would believe it was the work of the crusaders.
His father’s letter did not confirm who poisoned them nor did he state what the poison was but Desmond was sure he’d learn the truth later.
Robert de Sablé had given his word that he would not step between the Brotherhood’s internal affairs and Desmond was guessing the man was too busy throwing out the trash that sided with the Basilisk at the moment.
Desmond wasn’t going to pretend that it wasn’t possible that this was a Saracen ploy but the team sent to Ḥalab gave him a letter from az-Zahir. It informed him of how Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s people in Jerusalem was busy because there were rumors of crusaders managing to sneak inside Jerusalem.
The young sultan had implied that his father would ‘appreciate’ any information the Brotherhood might provide them concerning this rumor.
It was a tempting offer.
But Desmond still needed to weigh the pros and cons of helping Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
Because telling them about the Templars risk the possibility of adding an unknown variable in their race to get the Apple.
If anything… it was more important that he ensured that they know if their little town baker was to send any letters and to who they would address the letter to.
Things got even busier once everyone has returned. The Assassins who were isolated by the foot of the mountain helped with aiding the bedridden patients to their temporary homes while everybody else went and did other things. Some of them brought supplies from the castle. Others were in charge of keeping the curious townspeople from coming too close, both for everyone’s safety and to ensure no one would try to trespass, intentional or unintentional.
By the time the sun had set, all the patients were resting in ten different homes with their own personal guard masquerading as someone tasked of taking care of them while they were being cured.
Desmond had visited the families that had opened their homes and thanked them personally in the west wing, promising monetary compensation as well. They were allowed to walk around the castle and they could visit the scholar’s tower if they like. The shadow’s tower, mentor’s tower, thermae and the east wing were off limits of course. Desmond wasn’t worried that they’d try anything but he had increased security for all the forbidden locations, especially the east wing where Jalāl’s room was now that he wasn’t sleeping in the harem.
Desmond requested Jalāl return to his room back in the harem for now while Kāve and Zain take over Jalāl’s room.
While he was sure that the families staying in the castle opened their homes out of kindness and perhaps pity, Desmond couldn’t deny that now would be the perfect time for someone to try and sneak in during all the confusion.
Because of the sudden increase of security, Desmond had to work with Rawiya and his second-in-command to plot out the new patrols, ensuring that there would be no gap at any given time even if many of the routes were to overlap.
There were already routes developed for increased security but they had to find the best of them and modify them so they would include the ten houses the patients were staying.
By the time everything was done for the day, he was two hours late for dinner.
It was a good thing that Jalāl was staying in the harem at the moment. Jalāl would probably throw a tantrum and say that he wasn’t going to go to the harem for dinner without his brother if he had been staying in his room in the palace.
Then again, if Jalāl had thrown a tantrum, Desmond wouldn’t have missed dinner. Their mothers must have been able to explain to Jalāl why Desmond wouldn’t join them tonight.
Desmond sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I’m sorry, you two. You both missed dinner because of me.”
Rawiya chuckled as he rolled the map of Alamut they were using to plot the routes, “I guess we can forgive you since you missed dinner too.”
His second-in-command shook his head before saying, “I’ll take care of giving the new routes to the patrols. You two go eat and get some rest.”
“That doesn’t sound fair. You need to eat too.” Desmond reminded the oldest of the three currently in the room.
The fact that the man ordered him around didn’t really bother Desmond. He knew the Assassin still saw him sometimes as a young man in need of guidance.
It was hard to break the habit when he knew him first as Peredur’s friend after all.
“I’ll eat after this.” The Assassin waved the rolled parchment where all the routes had been written.
It was an easy enough task. Give the proper paperwork to the patrols then watch them burn the parchment.
Also…
It gave him an excuse to visit Peredur who will be part of the patrol.
“Alright, Yahya. Thank you.” Desmond said instead, knowing the man would deny it if he was to tell him that he could just speak to Peredur and ask him how he’s doing without an excuse.
Desmond knew Peredur liked to act annoyed but he was always happy whenever his previous instructor would visit him.
But both of them would never admit that.
“I’ll go visit my mothers.” Desmond said, making both Yahya and Rawiya stare at him with unblinking eyes. Desmond tilted his head as he asked, “What?”
“Oh. We just expected you to visit Altaïr.” Rawiya answered with a teasing smile, “I mean… a lot of us were expecting a dramatic reunion with at least a hug and a-”
“Altaïr!” Rawiya shouted dramatically and Desmond wondered if that was supposed to be his voice.
Rawiya turned as he said in a calmer tone, “Desmond.”
Desmond supposed that was meant to be Altaïr’s voice?
Rawiya wasn’t exactly all that good at this.
And the whole wrapping his arms around himself and wiggling just looked plain weird.
“I need to tell my mothers about what’s happening. They probably know father is back so they’ll have a letter or something to give to him.” Desmond explained, ignoring… whatever it was Rawiya was doing. He put on the simple black coat that he had been wearing over his Assassin robes. It reminded him a bit too much of Rashid’s black coat but it was tradition for the mentor (or acting mentor) to wear one.
Plus, winter was upon them and the coat was quite warm.
Oh.
He should bring Altaïr one of his coats too.
Nothing would make Altaïr happier than finally being with Desmond and holding him in his arms.
Unfortunately, the entire day had been one busy moment after another. No. It was more accurate to say it was a series of overlapping busy moments and Altaïr was never left with nothing to do. By the time his current task was done, another task was open for him to help with or take over.
He was sure that Desmond faced the same problem, needing to oversee everything that was happening in the castle.
It got so busy that no one even tried to stop him from doing menial tasks like changing the bedding of one house that one of the patients would be using.
While he knew that many saw him as a man so in love with Desmond he makes a fool of himself, he still knew that he has responsibilities and duties that he mustn’t ignore.
He had been in the company of these men for almost a month now. He knew them and he knew that they needed his help more than ever.
Not to mention…
His actions would reflect on Desmond, no matter what he does.
And a selfish action during such an important crisis would only fuel those who do not approve of Desmond.
So Altaïr spent the entire day doing whatever he could. He barely had time to greet the people he knew in the castle. It was easy to ignore the curious looks from passing townspeople and those who try to stay for as long as they could before being asked to leave by Assassins in charge of the security of their area.
He didn’t even manage to speak to Kadar yet. Kadar was sent on ahead of their party and was in the castle by now, probably with his father.
He knew it was a precaution. Desmond wouldn’t be suspicious of Kadar but Altaïr also knew that, as the acting mentor, Desmond needed to take in consideration what everyone was thinking.
If anything goes wrong here, Kadar would be the first suspect because he was new. That was why it was better for Kadar to remain in the castle, be given a room to stay in until everything calmed down.
With Kadar out of the picture…
Right now, if anything was to go wrong, Altaïr would be the first suspect by those who do not wish Desmond to be the mentor or do not approve of Desmond taking Altaïr as his consort (unofficially).
But Altaïr was protected at the moment.
Not by Desmond or even his father.
But by Kasim’s watchful eyes.
If anyone was to accuse Altaïr of doing anything against the Brotherhood, they would also be questioning Kasim’s skills as a Master Assassin and his loyalty to the Brotherhood itself.
For someone who has something to hide, having Kasim shadow their every move would be a nightmare.
But to Altaïr, Kasim’s mission to keep a close eye on him has now become his shield.
… just like Kasim said when they first truly spoke to one another.
That was why Altaïr felt the need to apologize.
“For what?” Kasim asked as he continued to fold the clothes the castle sent with the rest of the supplies.
The two of them were doing the most menial of menial tasks, checking each pieces of clothing sent from the castle and organizing them. They have to unfold each one to properly check them before folding them back again. They weren’t there to check their quality but their cleanliness and sizes. This normally wouldn’t be a problem since all of them were the same Assassin robes anyway but Altaïr also knew that they didn’t really give Desmond enough time to ensure all the supplies were correct.
Thankfully, there hasn’t been any major problems and the supplies were handled correctly, especially the medicine that the mentor requested.
This was the final check for the day. The clothes that everyone could change to had already been sent by another Assassin an hour ago. All that was left were the clothes they would have for the rest of their stay here.
To be completely honest, Altaïr just wanted to check if there were anything that would fit setti’s daughter better than these but he was willing to compromise with the smallest robes they could find. Tomorrow morning, he’d request that clothes for a young girl be delivered.
“We both missed dinner because I kept taking more and more work.” Altaïr explained even though he knew Kasim would have already known that.
Why he even bother to ask ‘why’ in the first place? Altaïr was just going to assume he was tired and hadn’t fully processed what Altaïr was apologizing for.
“If you know that then do us both a favor and remember to take breaks next time.” Kasim said instead of accepting Altaïr’s apology.
“I’ll give you my bread tomorrow.” Altaïr promised, making Kasim turn to look at him.
“I don’t take bribes.” He dryly stated.
“Would two breads change your stance on that?” Altaïr asked, keeping his voice even and his expression blank.
“I am ashamed to admit I don’t know if you two are joking or not.”
They both turned to face the open door that would lead outside. Rawiya waved a hand at them as he entered, “Hey, Altaïr. Kasim. So you two are the workaholics I’ve been hearing about, huh.”
He placed a hand on his waist as he continued, “Well, I bring bad news to the both of you. The unfair treatment that you’ve done to yourselves has been escalated to management and the higher ups have sent me to give you your punishment.”
Altaïr was quite certain that Rawiya had deliberately chosen to use all of those unfamiliar words to tease them.
“Come along, both of you. Someone who actually took the time to take a break and eat will finish that.” Rawiya said with a smile.
Both Altaïr and Kasim sighed at the same time they stood, making Rawiya’s lips twitched. They followed Rawiya outside, nodding at the two Assassins waiting outside. The Assassins went inside so Altaïr assumed they were the ones meant to continue checking the clothes sent for everyone.
“Please give the smallest robes you find to the Rafiq’s daughter.” He said just as one of the Assassins tried to close the door.
“Oh!” The Assassin seemed momentarily surprised by the request before his face brightened and he gave Altaïr a smile, “Of course! I’ll make sure she gets only the best!”
She didn’t need the best if it was going to be too big on her but Altaïr knew that he shouldn’t say that out loud. Instead, he simply nodded as he said, “Thank you, brother.”
“Have a good evening, Altaïr!” The Assassin cheerfully said as Altaïr followed Rawiya.
Once they were far enough from the house, Rawiya noted, “That was a good move, requesting the assistance of someone who has a daughter of his own. I think his daughter is a bit younger than-”
Altaïr stared at Rawiya’s back as he said calmly, “I didn’t know he had a daughter.”
Rawiya paused and glanced at him before laughing. He patted Altaïr’s back as he said, “I missed you and your jokes, Altaïr!”
Kasim sighed but didn’t say anything.
Altaïr knew that Kasim was sure Altaïr wasn’t joking.
He would be right but Altaïr wasn’t going to admit it wasn’t a joke.
Altaïr’s lips curved into a smile.
He also missed the easy way he could converse with Desmond’s friends.
It didn’t take long for Altaïr to realize that Rawiya was leading them to the house the mentor had taken as his resting place for the duration of their stay here.
They entered the home and…
“I’ve listened to everyone’s reports as well and I’ll make a summary report. If you’d like, I can report it to you by tomorrow-”
“No, it’s fine. I would like to focus on my patients for now. I trust your judgment and I know you will make the right call, my son.”
“I mean, thanks for the vote of confidence and all that but I do want to hear your opinions too. Not because I’m worried I’m doing something wrong or that I feel inferior or any-”
Rawiya stepped to the side and…
Their eyes met.
Before Altaïr knew it, he was walking towards him.
And Desmond walked towards him with a relieved smile on his face. They stood in the middle of the room as Desmond whispered, “Welcome home, Altaïr.”
Altaïr opened his mouth but stopped when Desmond placed a hand on his cheek. Desmond’s smile turned into a look of concern as he realized, “You’ve lost weight.”
“And that’s my cue to go!” Rawiya said as he clapped his hands once, “I’ve gotten permission to visit my father. I’ll be back to take over the final shift for tonight.”
Rawiya patted Altaïr’s back as he said, “Desmond, you haven’t eaten dinner yet, right? Well, your dear Altaïr hasn’t eaten yet too.”
Rawiya walked towards the table, winking at Desmond’s father who simply smiled as he grabbed a basket on the table before walking back.
“Of course.” Desmond said with a fond sigh as he dropped his hand. He held Altaïr’s hand and asked, “Let’s go have dinner then.”
He took the basket Rawiya handed him as he said, “I brought dinner because I thought my dear father would be too busy eat as well.”
He turned to smile at his father as he continued, “Imagine my surprise when I learned that he already ate.”
“Everyone was worrying too much about me so I ate and took breaks to keep them from focusing on me instead of all the things we needed to do before the end of the day.” His father said with a smile, “My heart has grown tenfold seeing my son come here worrying about my health. But I’m sure I am not the only person you came to visit.”
Desmond chuckled and nodded, “And you would be right, father.”
He gave Altaïr a soft smile and squeezed his hand before turning to face his father as he said, “If you’d excuse me, father. I would like to spend the night with Altaïr.”
“Of course. I hope you two have a pleasant evening.”
Desmond nodded and walked out of the house with their hands intertwined.
Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile as he felt the cool nightly breeze.
“So, where are you staying?”
Altaïr walked to the house left of where Desmond’s father was staying as he said, “I’m staying here with three of our brothers. I believe they’re in charge of looking after a patient tonight.”
“Oh? Does that mean we’d be alone for the night?” Desmond asked coyly.
Before he gave a frosty smile as he said dryly, “Is what I would say but…”
Desmond turned to smile at the man that had been following them the entire time and asked, “What are you doing, Kasim?”
“I have been ordered to keep an eye on Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad for the duration of this crisis.” Kasim answered with his hands clasped together in front of him and his head bowed slightly.
“Yeah, I know Hasan ordered you to spy on Altaïr.” Desmond continued to smile as he asked, “You’re not thinking of following us this far, right?”
“No. However, I also reside in this house.” Kasim countered.
“We’ll be eating dinner together.”
“I also have not eaten dinner as well.”
“We’ll probably also rest inside for quite a while.”
“I would also like to rest as well.”
Desmond and Kasim stared at each other for a moment.
Desmond gave Kasim a sweet smile as he said, “Okay then. Suit yourself, Kasim.”
Kasim knew that he would be punished for this.
Desmond’s smile was the very last warning that he would give.
“Thank you for understanding, Desmond.” Kasim said instead.
And followed the two inside.
Chapter 90
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Kasim tried his best to be a good brother. He didn’t try to dissuade his sister from her recent wish to be an Assassin after seeing Adha train even though he was worried about her. As far as he knew, it was the first time she wanted something for herself. He knew that the fact that he had to start his training to be an Assassin at a young age made her feel like she needed to take care of their two siblings on his behalf as well and Kasim wished she could just be a little bit more selfish. He always bought enough desserts when he could so she wouldn’t give away her share to their siblings.
So, yes, Kasim did try his best to be a good brother.
A brother his siblings could be proud of and depend on.
He didn’t necessarily think he was a good man though.
But he believed that it was more important to keep trying to be a good man.
Just as he tried his best to be a good brother, he was trying his best to be a good son.
He believed that his father only wished to protect the Brotherhood. His father was one of the Assassins who stayed loyal to Alamut even after Rashid tempted everyone with the idea of a better Brotherhood.
They didn’t come from a long line of Assassin like Rawiya’s family. His father had been born as a mercenary’s son and came to Rudkhan Castle when his grandfather offered their mercenary group’s services.
Their family’s loyalty to the Brotherhood might be considered ‘new’ in comparison to the old Assassin families like Rawiya’s or Faheem’s.
But his father was one of the few people who never got along with Rashid during the few times he visited Alamut while Rashid was still there and Kasim knew his father’s wariness to accept Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was born from his experience with Rashid.
Rashid had honed his skills in manipulating people, offering them guidance and knowledge in exchange for their gratitude that slowly turned into loyalty and trust without them even realizing it.
His father once told him that there was a time that he believed Rashid had been honest about wishing to help others. That it was his time as a child soldier in service to the mercenary group of Kasim’s grandfather that had made him so jaded that he didn’t trust Rashid even when he had just wanted to help from the bottom of his heart.
The people that found their place in the Brotherhood were those who lost something or wanted to protect something. Rashid’s guiding hand was a kindness they couldn’t help but gravitate towards.
That was what Kasim’s father told him. Kasim wasn’t foolish enough to believe his father wholeheartedly.
If it was simply facts, he would have believed it completely.
But his father’s memories were laced with his emotions. Kasim knew that memories become clouded by one’s feelings.
Kasim himself had only started to grow his roots in Alamut. In his eyes, Rudkhan Castle was far removed from the history between Alamut and Rashid that he didn’t really have any true negative emotions about the supposed ‘traitor’ pretending to be a king in his little castle.
If Rashid did betray the Brotherhood, they must act in accordance to their Creed, regardless of who he had been before or whatever relationship he had weaved throughout the years.
That was the truth that Kasim knew could never be proven as false.
His father believed that Rashid turned his back from Alamut once he felt the power he had as the master of Masyaf, the rage he held onto for being thrown out by the last mentor corrupting the kindness he once had.
Leading to Alamut and Masyaf being distant allies, an incident away from becoming enemies.
His father did inform him that Desmond was planning to put an end to this. The secret mission his close friends led was a clear indication that he was planning something.
The fact that Desmond started to move after returning to Alamut with Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was what made his father wary.
Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III had earned the respect of Kasim’s father. His father agreed that he should be the next mentor.
Unfortunately, even if Desmond was adopted, he shared the worst trait their mentor had that made Kasim’s father want to pluck his beard off.
Desmond gave too much leeway to Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad like his father did for Umar.
Apparently, the current mentor and Umar Ibn-La'Ahad bickered every day, fighting to gain Rashid’s attention. They grew close because of their rivalry, even went as far as promising an arranged marriage between Umar’s son and the mentor’s only niece.
This had been met with opposition when Alamut first heard it. Adha and her father were the only remaining relatives of one of the mentor’s wives. While Kasim never heard her name, he knew that the family of the mentor’s wife was one of the few remaining families in Alamut that could declare without a shadow of a doubt that they were descended from the Hidden Ones. Her marriage to the mentor had been a political move to quiet down those who opposed the mentor’s position because he was never initiated as an Assassin.
Adha and her father even left Alamut and became wandering merchants as a show that he had no plans to fight for the title of mentor just because he was descended from the Hidden Ones.
To offer her niece to the son of an Assassin who turned his back from Alamut?
The only reason why people stopped opposing it was because the mentor made some weak excuse that this was a ploy to tie Umar Ibn-La'Ahad back to Alamut.
Strange how things worked out in the end.
Umar Ibn-La'Ahad was sacrificed by the man he followed and his son turned his back on Masyaf to be with the mentor’s son.
But they had to make sure that Altaïr was truly here out of his own free will and not because he was ordered by Rashid.
And that was why Kasim tried to be a good person to the best of his ability.
He tried to be a good son.
But to be forced to endure this torture…
“You haven’t been sleeping well, have you, Altaïr? Look at you, oh, my poor Altaïr.”
Kasim knew Desmond well enough to know that he was only acting.
He also knew Altaïr well enough to know that the man was enjoying the attention even though he also knew that it was all an act.
So Kasim kept a straight face and ate his own meal as the two continued their…
It was wrong to call it an act through and through.
While Desmond was ‘laying it on thick’, his concern for Altaïr’s health was true.
His touch was gentle as he looked over Altaïr, the two of them close enough that their knees were pressed against one another.
He was sure the only reason why they haven’t kissed each other was because Kasim was eating in front of them.
Kasim would like nothing more than to give them the privacy that they so desired but leaving now would be the perfect time for them to plot against the mentor or Alamut.
Kasim must remain near them and listen to them to ensure no one would even think that they were planning anything nefarious or that Desmond was giving away key information that Rashid could use against them as a bargaining tool or worse.
That included the possibility that the two of them could be speaking in codes.
Kasim truly hoped that Desmond would leave after they have finished eating but he highly doubted it.
“My father told you that?!”
Kasim ignored the reddening of Desmond’s cheeks as Altaïr recounted the stories their mentor shared about Desmond when he just started to live in Alamut.
Considering Altaïr and the mentor would spend an hour or so just talking about Desmond every night…
Kasim could feel that this was going to be a long night indeed.
“Reunions should be passionate. It should stop your heart for a brief moment then the fast loud beating of your heart would threaten to make you deaf!”
“If that’s how you’re going to write it, I feel sorry for your proofreaders.”
Peredur turned to glare at Rahim who simply continued to eat the biscuits that Khalid’s wife gave him. They were meant to be shared to Peredur and Altaïr who were both staying here to help out and Rahim had simply found Peredur first.
They decided to look for Altaïr and eat the biscuits together, maybe tell him that Hilde got the recipe from Desmond who thought Dana would like it.
They were planning to comfort Altaïr with the fact that Desmond was swamped with work and to tell him that Desmond would find time to meet with him tomorrow.
Rahim already talked to Meekhal, Zain and Hamaal. Hamaal was willing to pretend to be Desmond for the entire morning so they could sneak him out of the castle.
But then they saw Desmond and Altaïr sitting in the house that Altaïr would be occupying, being as disgustingly sweet as usual.
Peredur had been the one to drag Rahim to the house he was staying in, with a window placed in the perfect spot to watch the two thanks to a similar window in that home.
Rahim would have been concerned that Peredur had planned to spy on Altaïr from the get go but he also knew…
“Peredur, please, give them some privacy.” Amir requested, his voice sounding like coarse sand being pushed forward and backward on a rocky road.
Peredur decided to stay here instead of barging into Altaïr’s home so he could keep an eye on Amir, the only one in their batch to be poisoned.
Rahim sighed and gave his brother-in-law some water, “Stop trying to talk and drink some water. Just hearing your voice is painful.”
Amir chuckled weakly as he drank from the wooden cup. While they were certain it was poison, these wooden utensils would be burned afterwards. It was a procedure they used for contagious illness but they were planning to do it after the patients have been cured just to be safe.
“You’re ruining the scene. Why are you even there? You don’t even exist in the narrative in the first place. Do you think the readers would like it if a new character suddenly appears to thwart the romantic development?”
Rahim and Amir stared at Peredur mumbling as he tightly gripped the window sill, wondering if their friend had gone a little bit mad stuck in the little house by the foot of the mountain far longer than he should have.
“Maybe I should just knock him out.” Rahim dryly suggested, “I’ll take over his patrol route for tonight.”
Amir shook his head and gave Rahim a smile. Rahim sighed, knowing it was Amir’s way of reminding him that, even if Peredur tend to get carried away with his writing, he was still able to fulfill his duties as an Assassin.
That was the reason why the Brotherhood gave him so much leeway when his passion for writing would take over.
But still…
Rahim grabbed Peredur’s hood just as he began to mumble, “Maybe I can intervene? No, that would put me in the narrative. No, that would be too temptin-”
Rahim dragged him away from the window as he sighed, “Come on, you idiot. Have tea with us and let’s talk about what you guys missed.”
“You returned from Ḥalab, didn’t you?” Amir asked, giving Rahim a smile when the man glared at him for speaking, “How did it go?”
“It was alright.” Rahim pushed Peredur to sit next to him and forced the man to eat a biscuit as he explained, “Harash was not there though so it was much easier to investigate.”
That wasn’t strange.
A mentor’s keeper was allowed to travel anywhere and no one but the mentor could question their actions.
As far as the Brotherhood was concerned, the keeper was acting on the mentor’s orders.
“Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s son gave me a letter addressed to Desmond. Don’t know what it says though.” Rahim added with a shrug, “Desmond let out his usual ‘this is gonna be a pain’ sigh when he read it.”
“It must be connected to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn then.” Peredur mumbled, making Rahim grimace as the man’s mouth was still filled with biscuit, “If it was a threat to stay away or to not do anything, Desmond would have just rolled his eyes.”
“Then it might be an offer for an alliance.” Amir guessed, wincing when his throat complained at him for speaking.
All three of them fell silent.
An alliance would lead to stability and maybe even better trading accommodation.
But…
An alliance could lead to them forgiving their ally of any transgression they might make more than they should.
And Desmond…
Desmond was stubbornly against such things.
They all sighed as they had an idea of what Desmond would do.
He’d ignore it and let his father handle it once everything returned to normal.
“Do you think that is wise?”
Desmond hummed as he continued to lie next to Altaïr. The two of them were lying on their back on the roof, looking at the stars. Kasim was pulled down to lay with them but he was remaining quiet just as usual.
Desmond didn’t really mind Kasim tailing them.
Kasim bore no ill intent for Altaïr and this was the best way to protect Altaïr from any possible rumors of the two of them conspiring against Diya al-Dīn or any idiot who would think Altaïr would harm Diya al-Dīn in any way.
Desmond thought either idea was so stupid it wouldn’t even be worth putting as a plot twist in Peredur’s books but Faheem reminded him that there would always be idiots in the world.
Having Kasim as a witness would mean anyone that would slander Altaïr after all this would be calling Kasim a liar. Hasan and those who believe his son would not keep quiet if that was to happen.
So if this entire thing could lead to that faction burning itself from the inside, he’d let Kasim stay to be the match that lights them all and burn them from the inside.
He was sure Kasim and his father would be fine afterwards anyway. Hasan never said he was against Desmond being the mentor. He only joined that faction when Altaïr came to Alamut and, not once, had he explicitly said that Desmond was unfit to be a mentor or Altaïr was a spy.
It was always “we must exercise caution” and “if he is loyal, then he will show it”.
The kind of vague statements that could be considered to not be an attack.
Desmond wasn’t sure if Kasim knew his father most probably joined the faction against Desmond being a mentor to keep them in check and, if possible, destroy them from the inside.
What he was sure was that this entire shit wouldn’t have been this headache-inducing if it didn’t have the whole “you are the face of Alamut” political bullshit added on top of everything.
“Desmond?”
“Sorry.” Desmond sighed, “I was just thinking of how annoying it is that I even have to consider an alliance with someone as powerful as Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.”
Altaïr turned to stare at him as Desmond continued to stare at the night sky, listening as Desmond continued, “And, no, I don’t really think it’s wise for me to let that letter sit there for as long as father needs.”
He waved his hand as if he was lightly shooing a fly as he added, “Maybe I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow or something.”
“He’d probably just ask you what you want to do and tell you to follow your ‘heart’.” Altaïr noted, moving his hand so the back of his hand could touch Desmond’s.
Desmond curled his pinky over Altaïr’s and sighed once more, “Well, I don’t want to have an alliance with him.”
He paused before adding, “Or anyone for that matter.”
Desmond sat as he pulled his finger away from Altaïr’s. He placed a hand over Altaïr’s as he continued, “The Brotherhood is meant to protect the innocents. Those in power… well…”
Desmond turned to look at Alamut castle as he said, “They tend to stay in power because they make choices that protects themselves and those they consider their people.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that they would probably be willing to sacrifice others.” Desmond’s lips curved into a mockery of a smile.
While the Templars would have tried to kill them regardless, The Auditores’ connection with the Medicis only made it easier for the Templars to figure out that they were an Assassin family.
Ratonhnhaké:ton’s close connection to Washington only served to make it easier for Haytham to predict his movements and find a weakness he could exploit.
It was much too dangerous to ally with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, no matter how much easier it would be to take down the Order with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn supporting them.
Not to mention…
“If we do ally ourselves with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, I think it would be best if we put a time limit on it and clear boundaries of what we would be willing to do for each other.” Desmond mused before laying down once more, “The alliance will only be in effect until I become the mentor.”
Altaïr turned his hand so he could squeeze Desmond’s as he noted, “That could mean that the alliance would remain intact if you’re dead.”
“Then we’ll change it to ‘until I become the mentor or if I died’.” Desmond waved his free hand once more. Altaïr kept quiet, waiting for Desmond to sigh as he said out loud what Altaïr was thinking, dryly saying out loud, “And now I’ll have people who would want to kill me to destroy this hypothetical alliance or kill my father instead or…”
There were other ways to destroy an alliance with conditions.
That was why most alliances’ conditions would be void after a specific amount of time has passed.
Desmond was unnecessarily making things complicated.
And Altaïr knew that but he was keeping quiet, understanding that Desmond was simply trying to say what he felt.
He wasn’t exactly making any plans or anything. Just the first thing he thought of.
Desmond turned his body to lay on his side to look at Altaïr, his lips curving to a small smile when Altaïr immediately turned as well. They rested their entwined hands between them as Desmond whispered, “I have to go in a bit. I can’t stay here even if I want to.”
“Of course. As the acting mentor, your place is in the castle.” Altaïr pulled their hands closer and kissed Desmond’s knuckles, letting his lips graze against his skin as he whispered, “It’s alright. I understand.”
“And I understand that you won’t return with him even if I ask.” Desmond whispered back, scooting closer to press his forehead against Altaïr, “Thank you, Altaïr.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I promised to keep your father safe out of my own free will.” Altaïr reminded him.
Desmond’s face softened as he placed his free hand gently on Altaïr’s face, “That’s not the only thing I’m thanking you for. Thank you…”
Their noses touched as Desmond leaned closer.
“For keeping yourself safe.”
Desmond’s breath touched Altaïr’s lips as he whispered, “And coming back to me.”
“Desmond…” Altaïr closed his eyes as he whispered, “I will always come back to you.”
Desmond’s eyes closed as their lips met.
Kasim tried to be a good son.
But, at this very moment, he wished his father would eat burned food for a week.
Chapter 91
Notes:
I’m so sorry this is late. We had a really big storm and our power was cut and my phone’s signal was fully dead so yeah… TTATT
Anyway, this chapter includes an extra smut here (it’s not an apology, it was always meant to have one hahahaha)
Also also, I had a poll in Tumblr last week about a oneshot Dragon x human AltDes and Altaïr won (I was going to tell you guys about it when I posted this chapter but I didn’t make the cut because of the blackout OTL). Check it out here because I gave a ‘sneak peek’ (warning: it’s the first draft so it’s a bit rough XD)
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
“De!”
Desmond went on one knee and opened his arms, letting out a small grunt as his brother jumped into his arms with the force of a charging child who didn’t know how to control his strength yet.
Desmond let out a sigh and rubbed his cheek against his brother, letting the young boy’s giggle soothe away the day’s hard work.
Now that everyone was staying in the town beneath the castle, there was more paperwork that Desmond had to go through without any help.
He had finished a preliminary plan for the supplies they would send there but, just like with all things, changes happened when everyone least expected it which led to more planning and documents that Desmond had to look over and approve or reject all by his lonesome.
Khalid was busy making a steady supply of antidotes and Peredur was helping out in town.
Desmond did think of other possible candidates that would take over the non-urgent paperwork at the very least but his list was… limited.
To be completely honest, he thought it would be better if Khalid and Peredur chose their ‘backup’ since they would be training them.
That was the main problem as well.
It would take too much time to train people. At least before this poisoning incident happened, Khalid already had a bit of training with how to deal with the usual paperwork since Desmond’s parents did consider Khalid as their successor before Jalāl was born and Desmond came to Alamut.
Peredur was easy to train because Khalid was there to help out with the paperwork and he even went out of his way in checking on Peredur while he was working on the paperwork with the lowest priority as practice.
To be completely honest, there were only two people in Desmond’s own list.
One was Faheem but he knew Faheem would never agree to helping Desmond with his paperwork. He would say that he had enough on his plate with dealing with the scholars but Desmond knew that was a lie. The scholars did give Faheem a headache at times but the man wasn’t that busy.
Faheem would always refuse because he didn’t want anyone to use him as a way to attack Desmond or Diya al-Dīn for letting him have such freedom here in Alamut when he was one of the original ‘deserters’. Since he served as a council member in Masyaf, there would always be whispers of him working for Rashid no matter what he does.
That was what Faheem thought anyway.
The man was an annoying blend of stubborn and pessimistic when it concerned the political side of the Brotherhood.
So Desmond wasn’t even going to bother asking Faheem if he could help with the paperwork. He’d probably say something along the lines of “If you order me to work on any paperwork no matter how important it is, I’ll jump out of the window right now”.
The other person on his list was a scholar by the name of Nehal.
He was quite a small man and Desmond was honestly worried his growth was stunted by something worrying like malnutrition or a similar illness. That would have a lasting effect and it was clear that he was quite weak, already out of breath when he had only climbed the first two sets of stairs of the scholar’s tower.
Just imagining asking him to travel from the scholar’s tower and the mentor’s tower every day was making Desmond feel like he was such a bad boss already.
Khalid took him to be a proofreader, having been impressed by the way he wrote his research proposals.
They were apparently all rejected for one reason or another but Khalid wasn’t able to find a single misspelling or grammatical error in any of them.
Later on, Khalid was the one who proposed for Nehal to manage Desmond’s chili oil (monopoly) business.
And Khalid was right on the mark. Nehal was good at keeping the books easy to read and he was diligent in making sure the production was working on schedule and the quality was consistent.
Desmond was also pretty sure Nehal insisted on testing every batch because he likes spicy food. Desmond was willing to let it go because Nehal only takes a small bottle each time and would share it with the workers on the guise of “everyone should know the taste so we have a better chance of realizing when something is wrong”.
The problem with asking Nehal for help was…
The man got a stomachache whenever he felt pressured. Not only that, the man had a habit of overthinking and worrying when things deviated from his usual life.
Desmond was pretty sure that one of the reasons his proposals were rejected was because his previous research leader knew that Nehal would buckle under pressure.
And nothing would pressure the man more than helping out the acting mentor with paperwork.
He could already see Nehal mumbling along the lines of “if I make a mistake with the supplies, maybe they won’t have enough food and die of starvation” and Desmond would just spend more time trying to remind the man that he was only meant to take care of the non urgent documents.
Whether the man had anxiety or if it was ulcer or maybe something more…
Desmond wasn’t willing to take the chance of Nehal becoming too stressed with helping Desmond even if he was only in charged of the low priority documents.
He was, after all, the one who suggested that Altaïr write a chapter for those damn books. Desmond personally didn’t like the proposal but Altaïr had wanted to do it so Nehal was on Desmond’s good books right now.
Altaïr deserved to do whatever he wanted and Nehal helped him find something he wanted to do.
Desmond had hoped that it was only one chapter but the fact that Altaïr didn’t want to show him the journal he’s using to write it during his free time was a bit worrying.
Because he was out of people to request help from, Desmond spent the entire day working on the paperwork before finally meeting with Jalāl for dinner.
His batchmates even came by and suggested they all eat lunch together which he had to say no to because there was no way he was going to finish this paperwork by dinner if he was to spend an hour or so eating lunch. He’d have to eat while working.
… dear god, he felt like one of those overworked underpaid officer workers he saw in movies.
His batchmates decided to eat in his office, bringing his meal and talking while eating. Of course, they weren’t all together. Zain was with Jalāl and Rahim was eating with Amir.
Desmond was sure the plan was for all of them to visit Amir for lunch.
It could have been considered rude that they were eating in Desmond’s office but Desmond found their voices soothing. He still continued to work on the paperwork but he focused on the low priority documents so he could still take the time to focus on what they were saying.
It felt nice.
It reminded him of their meals when they were recruits.
But to be completely honest…
Nothing recharged him more than holding Jalāl in his arms, hearing him giggle as he hugged back just as tightly.
He couldn’t wait until everyone would be cured and all of this would be over.
He had never realized how cold his room was until he was back to sleeping alone.
“I think Rashid is becoming senile.”
Kadar almost dropped the tea cup he was holding, surprised by Desmond’s insult. It was only due to his years of training that he was able to keep a firm grasp on it and was able to keep himself from getting burned by the tea still inside of it.
“He is getting old.”
Kadar whipped to stare at his father with wide eyes but remained quiet.
His father glanced at him before sighing as he asked their guest, “So is this why you’ve graced us with your presence this night? To complain about Rashid?”
Desmond stared at his father for a moment before he looked at the table as he said, “I was banned from seeing Altaïr as of tonight.”
Kadar placed a hand over his mouth as he let out a gasp.
Oh, how cruel!
No wonder Desmond looked so sad.
He must be missing Altaïr so dearly.
Faheem, on the other hand, looked unimpressed as he dryly stated, “They’re busy cleaning up. All the patients are well enough to travel so they’ll be staying in the castle for the rest of their treatment.”
Kadar wanted to sigh at his father’s callousness.
He was sure Desmond knew about that. Everybody in Alamut was buzzing with excitement and relief when Desmond’s father announced it.
They were lucky no one had died at all.
It was thanks to the Jerusalem team’s quick thinking that they were all saved.
But the symptoms that plagued their bodies during their poisoning had done irreplaceable damage to many of them.
The Rafiq of Jerusalem would probably never walk again.
Kadar knew there was no official notice yet but he was sure the other novices need to be watched for a while to see if they would have any lasting effect that would hinder them on the field.
But the real consequence of the Jerusalem team bringing all of them to Alamut was…
Harash, as Rashid’s Keeper, was coming to Alamut two days from now.
In Masyaf’s eyes, Alamut had taken over jurisdiction that was rightfully Masyaf’s.
One could even say they kidnapped the Rafiq of Jerusalem at this point.
So Harash was sent to complain to Alamut.
And Abbas Sofian was coming with him.
Thankfully, Altaïr and Desmond reunited the following day.
They still had their respective responsibilities and duties but Kadar knew the two of them spent every night together.
Everything was going well and Kadar was enjoying his new peaceful life here in Alamut (his training was stopped momentarily due to his situation).
Unfortunately, the Masyaf delegation was reportedly just a day away from Alamut.
If anyone had told Desmond that he and Altaïr would be having sex just months after Desmond accepted Altaïr’s feelings, he wouldn’t exactly think they were crazy.
If ‘months’ were considered short then Desmond could just as easily argue that the letters they sent to one another for years should be counted towards the ‘duration’ of their relationship.
Hell, Desmond could even argue that the letters were their own way of courting one another.
It was so heavily ingrained in their relationship at this point that they would write to one another when they were apart.
While Desmond was ashamed to say that he didn’t have a journal waiting for Altaïr filled with his letters like what his overachieving lover did, there were countless pieces of paper tied by a simple red cord on the desk in their room that greeted Altaïr when he finally returned.
Unlike Altaïr who accepted the fact that he couldn’t give the letters to Desmond because it was dangerous so he wrote them all in a journal…
Desmond spent the first few days trying to cajole Maud into sending his letters by giving her a stupid plan of ‘leave this on a tree and call Aquila to get it’.
Maud’s expression of annoyed disappointment was worse than anything Adha would give him when he was being an unreasonable little shit.
Maud could not be bribed nor could one appeal to her emotions. She seemed to know that her task was to keep an eye on Desmond, not to actually agree to anything he asked.
She only agreed to Desmond’s requests when she deemed they were reasonable like looking over Alamut from the sky and reporting what she saw so Desmond could have a better idea of how secured their lands were at any given moment.
To be completely honest, Desmond was pretty sure the only person who can ask Maud for things was Altaïr and his requests wouldn’t even be answered most of the time.
Really… it was a very embarrassing and draining conversation for both him and his sorta step-daughter.
And that only showed how much he loved Altaïr.
Desmond knew they were physically attracted to one another and there was a saying that was something like ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder (and the dick harder as one of the bouncers in Bad Weather with a long distance relationship once said)’ so, yes, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
“Do you think Desmond will be okay?”
It was a strange question, even Kadar knew that.
Desmond was used to talking to foreign delegations and was even educated on how to act befitting the eldest son of the imam.
Or, as Desmond liked to call it, a grueling ‘crash course’, when he had tea with Faheem and Kadar before.
Altaïr probably thought Kadar trying to ask if Desmond was physically fine then.
And considering Altaïr’s expression…
Oh!
Kadar stared at him for a moment before grinning as he asked, “Something happened last night, didn’t it?”
Something connected to Desmond’s health.
Or, to be more exact…
Desmond’s body…
Kadar managed to stop himself from giggling thanks to Altaïr’s question of “Why would you say that?”
Kadar rested his head against the sill of the window as he continued to crouch, looking up to Altaïr who had been leaning against the wall next to the sill, as he said, “You’re smiling.”
Altaïr touched his lips.
Kadar’s smile widened.
He didn’t make any big motions but Kadar knew that he finally noticed the slight upward curve of his lips.
“I guess I am.” Altaïr said as he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. He dropped his smile as he opened his eyes. He kept his arms crossed and looked beyond the window as he remained standing by the wall next to the window as he asked, “Why do you think Desmond won’t be fine?”
“Well… I don’t know just how much evidence everyone got from their missions but Desmond is pretty much going to pretend to be nice to Harash and Abbas, right?” Kadar asked as he looked below where Desmond was standing with a few high ranking Assassins, waiting for the Masyaf delegation to enter the castle.
The moment they heard that the Masyaf delegation had just passed the foot of the mountain, Altaïr and Kadar were requested to remain in Faheem’s room for now.
Not that it was surprising.
Altaïr was a traitor in the eyes of Masyaf and Kadar…
Officially, Kadar transferred to Alamut.
Unofficially, the story that was spreading in Masyaf and its Assassins was that Kadar ran away to be with his father in Alamut.
Desmond had deliberately ordered that such a rumor be spread to hide the fact that Kadar was taken out of Masyaf by Alamut Assassins who infiltrated the fortress.
Of course, Kadar gave his permission to be seen as an immature child.
He didn’t really care how other people saw him.
After all, he was the second son of the Al-Sayf family. No one really paid him any attention.
“Desmond will be fine.” Altaïr’s voice pulled Kadar out of his thoughts.
Kadar smiled once more.
That wasn’t exactly right.
Altaïr had always seen him as Kadar, not as Malik’s younger brother.
Maybe that was why it was so easy to want to be his friend.
And as Altaïr’s oldest and closest friend, Kadar couldn’t help but tease, “Are you really sure about that? I mean… this is Abbas we’re talking about.”
Altaïr paused and Kadar knew that the man was reevaluating his position in the matter.
While Altaïr tried to ignore Abbas’ poisoned words, Kadar knew that Desmond, who loved Altaïr so much that he was willing to jeopardize his status as the next mentor to be with him, wouldn’t just stand there and smile at Abbas.
“You’re right.” Altaïr’s expression grew dark. Kadar nodded as Altaïr said, “We need to make sure Abbas doesn’t try anything.”
Wait.
What?
Kadar stared at Altaïr.
“I’ll talk to Khalid. He would know of a poison that would only give a mild symptom.”
Kadar’s eyes widened.
People weren’t exactly keen of talking about the use of poison at the moment due to what had happened to the bureau in Jerusalem.
“Abbas won’t be able to talk to Desmond if he’s too busy having a stomachache.” Altaïr said solemnly, “I can talk to Adha. Her batch would be in charge of tomorrow’s meals.”
Kadar stared at Altaïr quietly for a moment before he turned to look at the window as he said, “Abbas will definitely have an eventful time here.”
He should start talking about Abbas to the recruits here so they would realize why Altaïr’s actions was the right call.
Harash was an idiot.
Desmond and a few of the high ranking Assassins in Alamut were waiting by the castle plaza since they received word that the main gates have opened. He should have already been here with the rest of the Masyaf delegation.
A quick look by connecting to Aquila made it clear that they had slowed down their horses.
That asshole was probably going to say along the lines of “oh, we had to slow down because of the townspeople” even though everyone in town knew Assassins from Masyaf were coming.
The townspeople in Alamut were more suspicious of them than the people in the castle. After all, they would know that even a small group of Assassins could kill a lot of people using the element of surprise.
Desmond didn’t think Harash would do anything that rash. But that did beg the question…
What did that idiot even plan to do?
The other Assassins behind him were already starting to mutter about how disrespectful they were for making everyone wait.
Did he expect Desmond and the others to get angry and start shouting once they had arrived, making a show of how unreasonable they were?
That wouldn’t work even if Desmond was to show just how petty he could be.
For one, everyone in the castle were united by a single reason.
They were all offended by Harash and the delegations’ rudeness.
Desmond could throw them in the dungeons right now and everyone would probably clap.
Well…
Some would tell him he was being childish but they wouldn’t stop him.
So maybe Harash was trying to crack their unity.
Now that everyone was annoyed or angry at their rudeness, Desmond was bound to insult a few people depending on how he would welcome their rude guests.
This was why Desmond didn’t like the political side of the Brotherhood.
Desmond let out a small sigh, the cold forming his breath into a white puff of smoke. Winter was already in full swing so everyone was wearing heavy winter cloaks over their robes.
It would slow them down if a fight broke out but the heavy lining of their cloaks would protect them quite a bit from attacks.
Finally, they heard the horses as they reached the gates. Recruits quietly helped them keep the horses steady as the delegation dismounted.
Harash walked in front with four Assassins walking behind him, one of them being Abbas who kept his eyes on the ground.
Why Abbas was even part of the delegation, Desmond was unsure of.
Rashid knew that Abbas and Altaïr weren’t in good terms. For all Desmond knew, Abbas was sent here for the sole purpose of annoying Altaïr and casting him in a bad light.
Maybe Desmond should stop by Khalid’s table and find something that will give him diarrhea later.
Just because he can’t kill the man because Altaïr wouldn’t want anything to happen to Abbas that could be linked back to him, that didn’t mean Desmond couldn’t make his life miserable as hell.
As long as it didn’t link back to Altaïr no matter what, Desmond would get away with it.
“Safety and peace, brothers.” Harash greeted with a nod.
Desmond could feel some of the Assassins bristling at the greeting.
It was a deliberate way of disregarding Desmond’s status as the future mentor.
The dungeons would be quite cold right now.
Very inviting…
He could correct Harash and order him to greet him properly but that would make Desmond sound self-centered and arrogant.
On the other hand, if he didn’t correct Harash he would appear weak.
This was getting so annoying. No wonder his father excused himself by saying he’d like to keep a close eye on his patients.
“Upon you as well, everyone.” Desmond said instead with a smile.
Fuck it.
“You must be very tired from your travels for you to forget proper manners when greeting people.” Desmond asked pleasantly at Harash, “Or…”
Desmond continued to smile at him as he asked, “Shall we take your actions as Rashid’s way of announcing that he does not accept me as the future mentor of Alamut, Keeper?”
“I did not mean to offend you.” Harash lowered his head but kept his back straight as he said, “I apologize for the misunderstanding.”
“As you are our brother, I will forgive your mistake. However…” Desmond suggested with a smile, “Perhaps it’s time to leave your post as a Keeper, Harash.”
The Assassins behind Harash look up at him with wide eyes.
… except Abbas.
He kept staring at the ground.
Suspicious.
So fucking suspicious.
Unfortunately, Desmond has another annoying shithead that he needs to focus on at the moment.
“If you had made such a mistake to someone else, you could have made a powerful enemy. Who knows. Maybe they’d execute you and use your mistake as an excuse to wage war against the Brotherhood.” Desmond noted with a smile, “You represent Rashid and Masyaf to us but out there, your words and actions represent the Brotherhood as a whole.”
Harash finally bent his back to bow as he said, “I deeply apolo-”
“There is nothing to apologize for, Harash.” Desmond cut him off as he stepped forward. He wrapped his left hand over Harash’s neck and forced the man to look up as he continued to smile at him, “Everyone makes mistakes, after all. It is the actions we take after we have made those mistakes that matter. Not the whimpering of a misbehaving mutt.”
Harash remained still and Desmond could feel him trying to keep his breathing even. Desmond leaned closer as he said, “After all, the master should take responsibility of not training their mutt properly.”
He let go of Harash’s neck and stepped back as he asked pleasantly, “Wouldn’t you agree, Harash?”
Harash kept bowing at him as he answered, “Yes… sir.”
Desmond knew that the pause was because he wasn’t sure how to call Desmond now.
Some do call him ‘my prince’ but Desmond never really enjoyed that.
He wasn’t going to say Harash could call him by his name though.
Let the man squirm and worry about this.
Desmond turned to smile at the rest of the Masyaf delegation as he said, “You must all be tired from traveling for so long.”
Desmond deliberately emphasized on it to hit them where it hurts.
The shame of doing something ridiculous such as riding slow just to fuck with Alamut.
None of them dared meet his eyes and Desmond knew then and there that they had been ordered by Harash to do something so childish.
Desmond waved a hand as he asked, “Meekhal, please guide them to their rooms.”
“Of course, Desmond.” Meekhal stepped forward from the rows of Assassins standing to the side, watching the entire thing (many of who were still glaring at Harash).
Meekhal was the nicest and most unassuming of his close friends. Desmond had no plans of winning over these Assassins.
He just thought that there was no reason to antagonize them as well.
Meekhal would be able to talk to them and let them finally have some rest after all the bullshit they had to go through thanks to Harash.
And Desmond…
“Oh, Harash.” Desmond smiled at the still bowing man, “Someone will bring your luggage to your accommodations.”
“Indulge a selfish request of mine and have tea with me.”
Chapter 92
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
There were many places to have tea in Alamut.
The courtyard in the castle wasn’t primarily used as one of them but it was beautifully maintained by both the recruits and a retired Assassin who acted more like the head gardener nowadays.
Harash probably wasn’t used to this kind of treatment.
Being so out in the open for what he assumed would be a more private conversation.
And that was what Desmond was hoping for.
The courtyard was filled with flowers and a single large tree.
Private but open.
The worst kind of location for an Assassin if there was ever one.
They were having their tea underneath the tree so it was easy to look around and find that no one was there besides them and Zain wearing the robes of a novice.
While Zain didn’t look like a child, wearing the robes of a novice and keeping his head down made him look young enough to be mistaken as a newly initiated novice.
He first filled Desmond’s tea, one hand underneath the teapot to keep it steady while his other hand held the teapot’s handle.
“You have quite an interesting tea set.” Harash commented as Zain stepped towards him. He adjusted his hold on the teapot, placing a thumb over the top of the handle and covering the lid with his other hand as he poured Harash’s cup next.
“A friend of mine gave it to me as a gift after returning from a long journey. He supposedly found it somewhere far east of here.” Desmond said as he placed a hand on the cup. The pot and cups were designed with coiling dragons. While the pot and cups themselves were polished with an off white color, the dragons were dyed in some kind of blue ink or powder with green eyes that Desmond was never sure if it was simply dyed rocks or actual jade.
“What a generous friend you have.” Harash commented as he placed a hand on his cup, careful not to touch the coiling dragon that decorated it.
It was actually meant to be a joke. The kind of “this made me think of you” joke that made Desmond want to both laugh and hit Kaientaronkwen on the back of the head.
He did consider the gift to mean that Kaientaronkwen had grown fond of him, if not as a friend then as a business partner.
“I am fortunate to be surrounded by wonderful people.” Desmond said with a smile before taking a sip of his tea.
Harash watched him for a second before he took a sip of his own tea.
“You must be wondering why I wanted to have tea with you.” Desmond said before taking another sip.
Harash took a sip as well and remained quiet.
“While you are here in Alamut, I expect you to ensure that you and everyone who came with you will give me and my father the proper respect we are entitled to.” Desmond said as he placed the cup on the table. He leaned back as he continued, “Unless you plan to continue to make a fool out of yourself for the remainder of your stay here?”
“I apologize-”
“I don’t need your empty words, Harash. I know you’re not sorry for how you acted.” Desmond smiled as he said, “You’re just sorry because I’m calling you out of your bullshit.”
“Save your apologies for Rashid. Maybe he’ll be more understanding of your stupidity than I am. Who knows? Maybe he’ll even say kind sweet words to you if you apologize for how much you fucked up.” Desmond placed both of his hands on the cup as he continued, “The next time I see or hear from anyone in Alamut that you or the others have been rude to anyone, you will bear the responsibilities and be punished accordingly, do you understand?”
“I understand.” Harash answered as he kept his eyes on the cup in front of him as his grip on it tightened.
Desmond’s smile grew as he suggested, “The tea is for drinking, Harash.”
“Of course.” Harash drank the rest of his tea before placing the cup on the table.
Zain quietly stepped forward and filled his cup once more.
“At least savor the taste. We’re serving one of my special blends, after all.” Desmond said before finishing his cup as well. He waved his hand towards Zain as he commented, “I made this blend myself while everyone was being cured of their poison.”
Zain filled his cup as well before stepping back once more.
Awkward silence reigned over them for a bit and Desmond was sure it was more suffocating than awkward for Harash.
It wasn’t surprising that it was Harash who spoke first.
“What do you want from me?” Harash asked as he finally raised his head to stare at Desmond.
“We have much to discuss, Harash. Some of it should be in the presence of my father.” Desmond stated coldly, “One of those would be how you had the audacity to say that we overstepped our bounds by curing our brothers.”
“But I know I make you uncomfortable.” Desmond added in a lighter tone, “I figured having tea would help you a bit.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll have cookies with our tea.” Desmond said, not even giving Harash the illusion of a choice in the matter, “A friend of mine makes these really nice cookies. Oh, I should ask her to bake a lot so you can bring some back to the others.”
“They will be happy to receive such generosity.”
Desmond continued to smile as he said, “Well then, I’m sure you are just as tired as the rest of your group.”
He leaned close as he asked pleasantly, “You’ll finish your tea before then, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t want to waste my generosity, after all.”
“Of course…” Harash looked at the tea once more before drinking the rest.
Desmond knew that Harash was observing him even as he drank so he gave him what he was looking for.
A smile full of malice and sadistic glee.
The next time Harash had the displeasure of being in his presence, it was at night. After a delicious dinner with his family, Desmond had to reluctantly follow his father to his office to finally listen to whatever bullshit Rashid wanted to spew concerning this entire incident.
Honestly, Desmond just wanted to grab Altaïr. The hot waters of the thermae were calling to him.
Dear god, what he would give to fast forward the rest of this day so he can go to bed with Altaïr already.
But he knew he’d be too worried to relax if he didn’t join his father in this meeting.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be reluctant at the same time.
Humans were a ball of contradictions, after all.
He just hoped Altaïr wasn’t too bored, being on house arrest because of their visitors.
Kadar was with him so, at least, he was with a trusted friend right now.
Desmond wanted to suggest that Kasim be sent to keep an eye on him as an excuse since he saw that they were quite friendly with each other but Kasim had already left Alamut for another mission.
He knew that this was Hasan’s way of killing any rumors that Kasim and Altaïr became friends. He was trying to protect his son and, in the process, protect Altaïr by ensuring Kasim’s report would remain impartial in the eyes of their faction.
It was still annoying though. Desmond was sure Kasim’s experience as an older brother would be of help not only to Altaïr’s slowly growing friendship circle but also in making Kadar feel more welcomed here.
“Harash has arrived, mentor.” One of his father’s guards informed them after opening the door.
“Let him in.” Diya al-Dīn ordered before whispering to Desmond, “Do you think he’ll snap tonight?”
“I hope he does. I don’t really want to waste any more of my time drinking tea with him.” Desmond dryly said as he prepared the same teapot and cups he used during his tea with Harash earlier.
Hilde’s cookies would be wasted on him as well.
“Meekhal made sure to tell the others that Khalid’s been making batches of the antidote.” He let the tea steep before walking towards his father. He bent his upper body so he could whisper to his father’s ear, “They would have told Harash about it already.”
Harash stepped inside just in time to see Desmond in that position. Desmond straightened his back as he said, “I’ll get the tea.”
“Thank you, my dear son.” Diya al-Dīn said before ordering Harash, “Sit.”
Harash sat on the single chair on the other side of Diya al-Dīn’s desk.
They both remained quiet while Desmond walked towards the he table where the medical herbs and supplies were. He took the tray with the teapot and cups that had been set next to a jar filled with white flowers with six or seven petals and had many yellow stamens.
He returned to the desk that had been cleared of all paperwork and clutter beforehand and placed the tray in the middle. He poured his father’s cup first with one hand on the handle and his other hand on the lid.
He placed his thumb on top of the handle as he poured Harash’s cup next.
He could see Harash staring at the teapot. The idiot must think he knew what was happening.
Well, Desmond wasn’t going to say anything. Instead, he stepped to stand behind his father, holding the teapot in front of him.
Diya al-Dīn drank a bit of his tea before staring at Harash with a smile on his face.
Harash’s hand were steady as he grabbed the cup. The closer he brought the cup to his lips, the slower his hand became.
“Is something wrong, Harash?”
“No, mentor.” Harash answered before finally drinking the tea.
Desmond wanted to whistle, seeing Harash just drink everything quickly.
What an idiot.
Desmond stepped forward and filled Harash’s cup as well, smiling at the now paler man.
“So, Rashid is complaining that we have overstepped when we cured the Rafiq and the novices from Jerusalem.” Diya al-Dīn summarized, not bothering to call Harash out for not giving him the proper greeting.
“Al Mual-” Harash stopped himself and gripped the cup tightly as he corrected, “Rashid only wants to ask why your Assassins have taken them instead of bringing them to Masyaf. Masyaf is closer than Alamut and-”
“What is Masyaf’s protocol for illnesses that may be contagious?” Diya al-Dīn cut him off.
Desmond was a bit surprised by how rude his father was right now. Diya al-Dīn usually waited for people to finish talking before speaking himself.
“Everyone must remain in the guard tower west of Masyaf until the illness has been cured.” Harash answered.
“And how many sightings of Crusader and Saracen patrols does Masyaf get from the west in a day?”
“Three to four patrols most of the time.”
“How many of them would be more than willing to kill those in the tower?” Diya al-Dīn asked, “A few Assassins cannot protect the ill and the doctor that would be sent to cure them when they’re under siege. How many Assassins do you think will be injured when Rashid orders them to come to the tower’s aid?”
“How many of them will die trying to save their dying brothers?” Diya al-Dīn asked solemnly.
Bennu flapped his wings as he entered the office, staying by the window sill.
“If I was an enemy of the Brotherhood and I learned there was a contagious illness in that tower…” Diya al-Dīn’s face darkened, “I would burn the entire tower down.”
“But it isn’t their enemies that they would have worried about, isn’t that right?” Diya al-Dīn stared at Harash as he asked, “Rashid isn’t cruel but he would prioritize the safety of Masyaf over the sick and dying. It’s the most logical action to take, after all.”
“The protocol would have an additional order that only you and the council would know about.” Diya al-Dīn tapped his finger against the rim of his cup, “Faheem remembers it.”
Desmond had wondered what Faheem talked to his father about before his father left for the ruins.
Faheem must have told him about the complete protocol Masyaf had in place for contagious illness.
Diya al-Dīn took a sip of his tea before continuing, “Masyaf is always under pressure. While we have not waged war against the crusaders or with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, that does not change the fact that you have been in countless skirmishes with the crusaders this year alone.”
“Our Assassins made the right choice.” Diya al-Dīn stated, “Alamut may be farther but it is safer here.”
“The only reason why nobody died was because they were sent here.” Diya al-Dīn proclaimed.
“And even if it had been the wrong choice…” Diya al-Dīn stood and walked around the desk. He placed a hand on Harash’s shoulder as he said, “Rashid has no right to question me. I am your imam and the mentor of Alamut.”
“No matter where he goes or how many people bow down to him, Rashid will always bow down to me.” Diya al-Dīn proclaimed, “He isn’t, after all, the true mentor of the Brotherhood.”
Harash’s hold on his cup tightened but he remained quiet.
That was fine.
That small gesture was all Desmond needed to know that Harash hadn’t betrayed Rashid.
That perhaps Rashid was the reason why Harash became a Templar in the first place.
“Rashid hasn’t forgotten that, has he?” Diya al-Dīn asked lightly.
“Of course not, mentor.” Harash answered as he kept his eyes on the desk.
“Good.” Diya al-Dīn squeezed Harash’s shoulder briefly as he said, “Then we have nothing further to discuss. Fazil, his family, and the novices will be transferred to Alamut. As their doctor, it is my responsibility to ensure that their lives will not be heavily impacted by what has happened to them.”
“But I will let Rashid appoint the next Rafiq of Jerusalem.” Diya al-Dīn turned his head to smile at Harash as he said, “After all, I’m sure Rashid has a lot to take care of already but he would wish to show that he is still a competent loyal subordinate. I trust that he will pick a good successor.”
“Rashid will be honored to hear such compliment.”
“Finish your tea and get some rest, Harash.” Diya al-Dīn ordered, “And spend another day here with the others. I’m sure we have many other things we can talk about later tomorrow.”
Diya al-Dīn smiled at Harash as he ordered, “Join me in my evening tea tomorrow as well, Harash.”
“Yes, mentor.” Harash answered before drinking everything once more.
“The poison turned out to come from some kind of white flower. We found records of it in one of the books we purchased from a Christian merchant. The book also had the recipe for an antidote. We use most of the antidotes but there’s still one left in Khalid’s station on the fourth floor.”
That was the line that Desmond asked Meekhal to tell the Masyaf delegate while he was showing them around.
He didn’t tell Meekhal to talk about it while he was eating a meal with them but he supposed he should have expected it. Meekhal probably thought it wouldn’t be suspicious if he started to talk about the poison during a meal.
Yeah… no.
There was no way for Desmond to actually rationalize Meekhal’s actions.
Meekhal deliberately chose to eat with them to talk about poison of all things.
Desmond was wondering if passive aggressiveness was the main weapon of the Assassins here in Alamut when they felt like being petty.
But he was going to turn a blind eye to such rare cruel tricks from Meekhal because it did get the job done.
Normally, Desmond would have returned to their room where Altaïr would be waiting.
Maybe they’d spend a bit of time talking. Maybe they’d pass the time reading quietly.
Maybe they’d do something else.
Unfortunately, the final phase of their plan would probably start soon so he dragged his tired complaining body to the scholar’s tower and commandeered Faheem’s office there.
Faheem preferred his office in the mentor’s tower but, as the head of the scholars, he had an entire floor all to himself here in the scholar’s tower.
He never bothered to use it though so it had been easy to move all the dangerous ingredients and notes Khalid had here, all tucked away in one corner of the room.
Desmond was on the other side of the room, sitting on the desk that the last head used.
Desmond remembered the last head of the scholars. He had been a retired Assassin who wanted to spend the rest of his life reading books.
He was doing well, as far as Desmond knew. He stepped down from the position because he didn’t want to manage the scholars anymore. He still visited from time to time to borrow books or just talk to scholars.
It was a rarity for an Assassin to have such a peaceful retirement.
Well… it wasn’t all that peaceful. The many injuries he had sustained during his time in the field were now punishing him.
Just like Rawiya’s father, Diya al-Dīn had prescribed him medicine that alleviated pain.
When he and Altaïr grow old, would they have to drink the same thing?
Well…
Desmond remembered that Altaïr was still quite active as an 80 year old man.
Maybe?
Okay, his memories weren’t all that clear anymore but he was sure Altaïr still looked good as an old man.
“Desmond.”
Thankfully, Rahim opened the door and called out to him before he started dwelling too deeply over the fact that he might be thinking that an 80 year old man was hot and the implication it had on his psyche.
He closed the book he had been staring at and placed it on top of the desk as he turned to look at Rahim, “Did we get a late visitor?”
“We have him pinned to the ground at the moment.” Rahim informed him, “Khalid’s having fun telling him that he’d pluck his eyes out for coveting what wasn’t his. Last I heard, Khalid was talking about how he read in a book that eating one’s eye would make your eyesight better.”
Rahim rubbed the back of his head as he sighed, “I’m not entirely sure if he was joking or not.”
That sounded more scandalous than it had to be.
Desmond chuckled lightly as he stood.
“Let’s go then. Before Harash think we’ll actually let Khalid pluck his eyes out.”
Desmond entered the fourth floor just in time to hear Khalid talk about the internal damages done by the poison.
He walked towards them and he would be lying if he said that it wasn’t satisfying to see Harash lying on the floor, kept in place by Hamaal sitting on him with one knee pressing against his spine. His other knee pinned his left arm while Hamaal held his right hand behind him in an angle that showed that Hamaal would only need to pull slightly to easily dislocate Harash’s shoulder. Hamaal’s left hand tightly gripped Harash’s neck and just one gesture from Desmond would make Hamaal pierce the traitor’s neck.
Khalid stepped to the side and grabbed a nearby chair, placing it in front of Harash.
Desmond was planning to loom over Harash but it would look bad if he didn’t sit so he did.
He crossed his right leg over his left and placed his entwined hands over his knee.
Okay, this was ruder than just looming over him.
Desmond was impressed that Khalid knew this would be a better pose.
“Are we such inadequate hosts that you felt the need to steal, Harash?” Desmond asked with a small frown.
Harash was breathing heavily and his face was paler than Desmond had ever seen.
“You know why I’m here.” Harash growled in defiance.
“I wonder why… oh, is it this?” Desmond took the small bottle that Khalid silently handed him, “Were you looking for the last bottle of antidote?”
Harash took a sharp inhale before he tried to control his breathing, his entire body frozen as Desmond threw the bottle in the air and caught it before it fell lower than his knee. Desmond continued to throw and catch the bottle in the air, staring at Harash as he asked, “Is Rashid so curious of the antidote that you decided to steal it or…”
Desmond’s lips curved into a sadistic smile, “Do you think you need this?”
“You can torture me all you want-”
“Harash.” Desmond cut him off, deliberately letting the bottle fall and catching it just two inches before it hit the ground. That move stopped Harash from saying whatever foolish things his little mind was thinking right now far faster than anything Desmond could say. Desmond chuckled softly as he lightly shook the bottle, “We just caught you trying to steal from us. There’s no need to torture you. To be completely honest…”
Desmond’s smile became more pleasant, “I don’t believe in torture. Pain only makes people say whatever they believe they need to say to stop the pain.”
Desmond stood as he uncapped the bottle, “We will use your actions to justify ransacking your office in Ḥalab. I do hope you left something behind that would pin Rashid as a traitor.”
“Oh, who am I kidding? You definitely did.” Desmond said lightly as he continued to smile at Harash, “The problem with trying to fuck everyone over is that…”
He tipped the bottle, pouring the liquid over Harash’s head as he continued, “… you’re afraid that someone will fuck you over too. So you would have some kind of assurance.”
Even if he was loyal to Rashid…
“Something that would ensure your mutual destruction.” Desmond said as he crouched and dropped the empty bottle next to Harash’s head.
He pressed his elbow against his knee and rested his chin on his palm while Hamaal pulled Harash by the neck, forcing the man to look at Desmond.
“We will also use this to take Ḥalab from Rashid. After all, if his dear Keeper could betray the Brotherhood, we need to make sure no one else in the one place he regularly stays in was working with him.” Desmond continued to smile at him as he rested his chin over his hand, “Would you agree that this would be a wonderful final act for you as the Keeper?”
“Oh!” Desmond clapped his hand once before grinning, “I almost forgot to tell you!”
He leaned close as he said sweetly, “We never poisoned your tea.”
Harash’s eyes widened and Desmond stood as he said, “Whatever symptoms you think you’re feeling is either because of your muscles aching from traveling or… you know…”
Desmond grinned at him, “Your mind playing tricks on you.”
Notes:
I can finally talk about it. XD
Edit (11/25/24): as suggested, I've removed the name of the poison here in the notes just in case anyone was too curious to check it out. As noted by Altaïr in a previous chapter, it’s not one of the poisons that they drank before to gain resistance from because it’s primarily found in Europe.
Chapter 93
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
“Do you think they’re planning something?” Kadar asked as he kept the planks of wood still for Altaïr to hammer them in place. Altaïr’s hammering held a certain… ‘rhythm’ to it.
Altaïr knew that Kadar found it quite soothing. He could see it in the way Kadar would relax whenever he was hammering.
Altaïr didn’t want to raise his voice so he waited until he finished hammering the nail before finally answering Kadar, “It would be foolish to assume they do not.”
“Oh, I know.” Kadar nodded before clarifying his question, “I was wondering if the others are planning something too. We all know Harash has his own mission but I doubt the others are just here for security.”
“That’s a reasonable assumption.” Altaïr agreed as he picked another nail, “At the very least, Abbas must have been sent here to spread rumors about me.”
“Don’t worry! We already got you covered on that!” Kadar exclaimed with a smile and Altaïr had to wonder if he and Desmond had been spending enough times for Kadar to start using such unfamiliar phrases.
Altaïr began to hammer the last nail to finish the frame as he thought about the possibility that Desmond Kadar would be talking to one another without him.
No. The only time Desmond spent any time with Kadar was when he would share a meal with the two of them. Desmond barely had any time to himself, being the acting mentor without any of his usual support.
Khalid was still in the process of recording everything they learned about the poison and exchanging letters to a few of their most trusted merchants to try and find out where Harash or Rashid could have procured the tea, considering the poisonous tea was made from white flowers that were from crusader lands.
Peredur spent his days helping with security around the palace. While the patients were getting better, they still weren’t allowed outside until the Masyaf delegations left so Peredur took more shifts to help ease the burden of the additional patrol routes that would guard the patients’ rooms. His evenings, apparently, were spent with rewrites. Altaïr’s writings were long enough to be a short book all by itself and Peredur was busy rewriting the book that was meant to be released this year. When Altaïr asked one of the proofreaders why Peredur was rewriting the book, he learned that Peredur did not want any discrepancies between his book and Altaïr’s special edition.
Desmond was quite busy that he wouldn’t have time to meet with Kadar without Altaïr.
Desmond did spend all his free time with Altaïr, after all.
So, if anyone was talking to Kadar with so many unfamiliar phrases, it would be one of Desmond’s close friends.
It was definitely Peredur.
Peredur would always take the time to visit Kadar now that all the patients weren’t on death’s door. Of course, he only visited Khalid when he was taking a break from his patrols.
Sometimes, he would visit with a few of the other Assassins who had to spend their days in isolation on the foot of the mountain.
Other times, Peredur would visit by himself and they would just talk for a bit before he had to return to his duties for that day.
Altaïr knew that they were friends and that Peredur was trying to both cheer Kadar up as well as show that he was supporting Kadar’s integration to Alamut.
For now though, Kadar was under house arrest in the mentor’s tower.
Unlike Altaïr who only had to stay put until Harash was sent to the dungeons, Kadar was going to remain in the mentor’s tower until the entirety of the Masyaf delegation leaves or… joins Harash in the dungeons.
It really depended on how they would act once Harash’s situation comes to light.
Altaïr wasn’t worried though.
Wherever Kadar was, he always found a way to endear himself to people. He already endeared himself to the recruits who would clean the tower daily, helping them out with a flimsy excuse of “I just want to do something nice for father and everyone here. They’ve been so kind to me.” that would only really work on the young recruits.
Recruits were the best carrier of messages one wanted to spread discreetly. Most of them would be quite innocent and believe the message being sent across. Others were jaded too far too much to know that they’d be remembered as having helped if the message they passed along turned fortuitous. Regardless of how the message came to the ears of the right person, people wouldn’t blame the recruits if they found out the ‘origin’ because recruits were given more leeway. They were there to be trained and taught, after all.
The message was clear though.
Kadar Al-Sayf was a sweet kind young man who cares for his father and friends. A harmless fledgling that could still be trained into a loyal bird of prey.
Unlike Faheem Al-Sayf who managed to dig his roots here with what Desmond described as the ‘return of a prodigal son turned bitter from the betrayal of the false master he followed’ story that resonated with a lot of other Assassins in Alamut, Kadar only has his connection with a few of the Assassins here as his starting point.
He also had the disadvantage of being known as someone that was born and raised under Rashid’s teachings and indoctrination.
Altaïr was able to pull away from that by being shameless in showing how he did betray Rashid for love.
Kadar though…
“I told the recruits how Abbas cried about how jealous he is of you while he was in the arms of a woman!” Kadar stated proudly, “They would have already told the others about it by now.”
Altaïr hummed.
Kadar was going to run what Desmond called the rumor mill from the shadows once more, it seemed.
It had been Kadar’s way of being petty ever since they were children. He had always looked sweet and innocent, being younger and smaller than the always serious Malik. People usually compared him to his brother and father, both serious and quite stern at times.
Because of this, Kadar’s smile covered the fact that he employed much more questionable methods to get back at someone who he believed had wronged him.
Or Altaïr.
He mostly used it to protect Altaïr from the more unfavorable whispers that he would hear, pulling the rumors away from Altaïr and onto one of the people trying to slander him.
“Thank you, Kadar.”
Kadar blinked before grinning at him, “There’s no need to thank me, Altaïr. I was just telling true stories about the people we know that would be visiting Alamut.”
While it was true that Kadar learned of Abbas crying about Altaïr while being with a woman, Altaïr also knew that Kadar left a few key details about that incident.
One key detail was that Abbas had been under heavy medication during that time. Altaïr and Abbas had been novices back then, and one of their missions had almost ended in disastrous failure due to the lack of unity between the two of them.
The only reason why they survived was because Altaïr pulled down an entire shelf of heavy boxes to impede the guards chasing them which created enough smoke to cover them long enough to escape their pursuers’ gaze.
Altaïr’s right arm was scarred by the incident while Abbas was hurt badly enough that he had to be sedated in the bureau so the Rafiq could work on his wounds after Altaïr carried him on his back halfway through their escape attempt.
The other key detail missing from the story was that it was the Jerusalem bureau and the woman that held Abbas as he cried was setti.
‘Cried in a woman’s arms’ was purposely misleading people to believe that it was one of the Flowers in Masyaf and it had been during a more intimate setting.
And the best part was that Abbas himself didn’t remember the incident. He had been delirious from the sedatives given to him that he didn’t even remember talking to setti about it.
Altaïr only knew about it because he had been in the same room, watching over Abbas but hiding from him because he knew that the man would not like being in his presence.
He also never told Kadar about it.
Kadar found out all on his own and Altaïr didn’t know how.
The best he could think of was that one of the other novices back then told the story to Kadar when they returned to Masyaf years later.
By that point, no one truly cared about that mission anymore. They were all used to courting death each time they go on mission, after all.
Altaïr was sure Abbas remembered it but he was also sure Abbas never gave it all that much thought other than being one of the few missions that almost ended his life.
“Of course.” Altaïr agreed instead with a small smile, looking over his current project.
Just as he was thinking about how he needed more planks of woods, a recruit that was probably a batch younger than Adha’s walked up the stairs and smiled at them as they remained sitting on the hallway of the floor before the top.
“Oh, hello, Altaïr, Kadar!” The recruit greeted joyfully as he walked towards them, holding two planks of wood that were almost as tall as him but just wide enough that he could carry them around his arms, pressing them against his chest to keep them steady.
“Altaïr, do you need more wood? I was clearing the stables’ supply shed- Oh!” He held the planks higher as he clarified, “I got permission to take this, don’t worry! The stablemaster said that these were just going to rot inside so he let me take them and find some use for it since the castle paid for them anyway. I asked Oded too and he gave me permission to use it any way I can. I figured you might want them?”
His gaze turned towards the cabinet that Altaïr was making and his shoulders slumped as he realized, “Ah… but the colors don’t match. I guess it would look strange if you use these…”
“Not really.” Altaïr stared at the frame of the cabinet as he said, “There’s no rule that the wood used to make the shelves should be the same as its frame. And…”
He turned to look at the planks on the recruit’s arms as he noted, “If I use those, I can add one more level than if I use the same wood.”
He nodded at the recruit as he said, “Thank you. I’d appreciate it if you can leave them here.”
The recruit’s face brightened and he nodded before placing the planks to the space that Altaïr had patted just moments ago, near the other equipment he requested earlier this morning when the boredom had finally stuck far too long.
The recruits had been more than happy to assist Altaïr, especially when he admitted that he wanted to try making a bookshelf.
It didn’t take all that long, mostly because they had given him smooth planks of wood. The most Altaïr had to do was to cut them in his preferred size. Kadar had nothing to do so he decided to help Altaïr with this endeavor of his.
The recruit crouched nearby and watched as Altaïr began to check the planks, marking certain points that would be used as guidelines to how it would be cut later.
“Have you seen our visitors?” Kadar asked curiously as he handed Altaïr a long, straight, flattened wood that they could use to make it easier to keep their cuts straight.
“Only a bit. I managed to take a peek at them while Meekhal was showing them around.” The recruit answered enthusiastically, “They look alright. Meekhal took them to the dining hall for snacks, I think?”
“That would be a good way to lower their guards.” Altaïr commented as he used charcoal to draw the lines that would guide their cutting.
“They looked nice.” The recruit said before adding, “Oh! I heard one of them asked about you, Altaïr.”
Both Altaïr and Kadar stopped what they were doing and focused on the recruit. The recruit didn’t seemed to realize how his words had gotten their attention and simply continued, “I only heard this from the batch working the kitchens today. They heard one of the Assassins ask Meekhal where you were.”
“I think they wanted to eat with you?” The recruit suggested but it was clear that he wasn’t so sure about that. Everyone in Alamut already knew about Altaïr’s strained relationship with the Assassins in Masyaf.
All of them knew that Altaïr was unofficially branded as a traitor for leaving Masyaf to be with Desmond.
A lot of them must have already realized that Altaïr didn’t really have any close connection to Masyaf other than Rashid and Kadar after talking to him for a while.
Altaïr and Kadar glanced at each other.
An invitation for a meal?
It would be easy to assume this was a ploy by Abbas to get Altaïr in the same room. Abbas did prefer to insult Altaïr while staring directly into his eyes.
At the same time, they couldn’t really deny the possibility that one of the other Assassins were just sincerely asking about him.
“What did Meekhal tell them?” Altaïr asked instead.
“I think he told them that you were busy building a bookcase?” The recruit answered but he seemed a bit unsure. Perhaps the whispers were more focused on how curious it was someone asked Altaïr to join them than the excuse Meekhal gave.
Altaïr wouldn’t be surprised if that was the real excuse Meekhal gave though.
It wasn’t a lie, after all.
Altaïr was, indeed, busy trying to build a bookcase.
“It looks good by the way!” The recruit commented as he stared at the bookcase frame.
It definitely looked better than his abysmal (adequate) excuse of a goat cage.
“Thank you.” Altaïr said, knowing the recruit was sincere with his complement.
“This is only the start!” Kadar exclaimed with a grin, “Right, Altaïr?”
Altaïr nodded.
His end goal was to make a better cage, after all.
“Do you plan to build Desmond a house?” The recruit asked, making Altaïr blink.
It didn’t sound like the recruit was making fun of him.
He seemed to absolutely believe that Altaïr would build Desmond a house.
Why though?
They had enough space here in the mentor’s tower and they both didn’t necessarily own a lot of large things.
He could just imagine Desmond waving his hand dismissively and telling him that having their own house would require unnecessary work for others, both to provide security and to clean it daily.
Altaïr turned to look at Kadar. Kadar must have noticed something in his expression because he nodded at Altaïr before smiling at the recruit as he said lightly, “There’s no need for Altaïr to build Desmond a home. Alamut is his home.”
The recruit looked awed by that line even though Altaïr himself didn’t really understood what was so special about it.
Alamut was Desmond’s home.
He didn’t see anything special about that fact.
It was times like this that Altaïr truly believed that Kadar would be a better leader than him or Malik. There was just the way Kadar spoke that made people listen to him, made it easier for people to agree with him.
“Altaïr’s goal is carve a wooden statue of Desmond himself!” Kadar announced.
The recruit was too busy being in awe by such a grandiose goal that he didn’t see Altaïr’s eyes widened.
What.
He needed to stop this before Kadar gets the recruit to start spreading such falsehood. He opened his mouth to-
“I can already see it! Desmond with his arm up and Aquila landing on it!”
The recruit gasped before suggesting, “We should place it in the central plaza so everyone can see it!”
“That’s a wonderful idea!” Kadar nodded enthusiastically, his words becoming faster as he said, “Everyone would see just how much Altaïr loves Desmond when they enter the castle!”
“Right, Altaïr?” Both Kadar and the recruit turned to look at Altaïr.
If someone was to tell Altaïr that he was a pushover, he would agree that he wouldn’t even bother to say ‘no’ halfheartedly if it was Desmond.
But seeing those two bright faces looking at Altaïr with complete trust and expectation.
Knowing they were trying to help him show how much he loved Desmond…
Altaïr could only nod as he said, “I will do my best.”
It seemed Altaïr would have to learn how to carve wood after building this bookcase.
It seemed that things were progressing smoothly. Desmond barely had any time to return to their room and tell Altaïr that he would be ‘staking out’ the scholar’s tower tonight because he’s sure they got Harash to snap.
Desmond seemed more interested in putting Harash in the dungeons right now so he could have his peaceful nights with Altaïr back.
Unfortunately, Altaïr knew that things weren’t going to be as peaceful as Desmond wished.
“You probably have about a minute or so before they charge in.” Altaïr said as he placed the wood on the table in front of him. It didn’t look like anything, just the rough shape of a sitting dog.
Or cat.
Or bear.
There was a reason why he was practicing his carving skills while waiting for Abbas.
It seemed his intuition was right on the mark.
“I see your room is as barren as usual.” Abbas noted in a derisive tone as he stepped inside the room next to Altaïr and Desmond’s room.
Altaïr didn’t bother to tell Abbas that this room was supposed to be Altaïr’s but he never truly used it.
It was, however, the perfect place for a scuffle.
The table was even light enough that Altaïr could grab it and use it against Abbas if the man decided to attack him.
He kept a hold of the carving knife he had been using as he turned to face the window where Abbas was sitting by the sill. Abbas would be on guard for Altaïr’s left arm but the right hand holding the carving knife?
Abbas has always had a bad habit of focusing on the immediate danger whenever he believed he saw it.
“Has Rashid ordered my death?”
“If he did, he didn’t order me to do it.” Abbas answered as he crossed his arms. Altaïr narrowed his eyes but remained silent.
An Assassin crossing his arms was a silent way for them to say that they mean no harm. It was, after all, easier for others to see them about to attack when their hands were out in the open like that.
“Then why are you here, Abbas?” Altaïr asked as he kept his eyes on Abbas, “I highly doubt you’re just here to talk.”
Altaïr stood as he continued, “Especially since the Assassins patrolling tonight would have already seen you.”
Unlike Altaïr, Abbas didn’t have Faheem helping him sneak into the tower.
“I think…” Abbas’ expression was…
Complicated.
Abbas had always looked at him with anger and hatred.
But right now…
He looked… lost.
“I think Al Mualim is colluding with the crusaders.”
Altaïr’s eyes widened at those words but, before he could say anything, the door to this room opened and two Assassins charged inside, grabbing Abbas and pinning him to the floor.
Abbas didn’t even try to resist, keeping his hands open and pressed to the floor as Rawiya entered the room, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he looked around. He saw Altaïr still holding the carving knife and asked, “Are you alright, Altaïr? Did he try to hurt you?”
Altaïr stood and stared down at Abbas.
He didn’t know what to feel right now.
Was it a trap?
Or had Desmond’s words pushed Abbas to question Rashid?
“I’m alright.” Altaïr said before adding, “Please inform the mentor.”
“Abbas Sofian might have information concerning an ongoing mission of ours.”
Chapter 94
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Abbas Sofian.
A name that both felt like a curse and poison at the same time.
Desmond didn’t really have any detailed plans to deal with Abbas. Abbas wasn’t exactly a bad Assassin. If Desmond was being honest, he was quite competent all things considered…
… as long as he wasn’t compared to Altaïr.
Then again, everyone paled when compared to Altaïr.
If Desmond was to rank Abbas based on his skills, he would just be a level or two lower than Malik. Thinking it made Desmond want to shiver and throw up but it was the unfortunate truth of the situation. Abbas’ real problem was that his skills weren’t improving as much as anyone would like because of his jealousy over Altaïr. This unnecessary (and, frankly, unhealthy) one sided rivalry was stopping him from focusing on his strengths. Instead, he just continued to waste his time trying to catch up to a man whose shadow would be forever out of his sight.
He was awful as a mentor, not because he was stupid but because his paranoia that Altaïr was planning to retake the title of mentor was deeper than all the seas in the world combined. And this paranoia dogged his every step the entire time he held the position.
He always worried that Altaïr would strike Masyaf at any point so he kept it guarded against something like a siege.
… as if Altaïr would actually plan a siege when he knew that the best way to retake Masyaf was through stealth and subterfuge.
The only reason why he walked in broad daylight was because he knew the Brotherhood needed to see his return. Both as a symbol of hope to those who oppose Abbas and to strike fear in the hearts of those who stand by him.
Abbas lost all reasons whenever it concerned Altaïr. Not sending reinforcement to Cyprus had been a power move as well. A way to destroy everything Altaïr had worked for, even if it meant the death of so many of their brothers.
At the very least, Desmond was going to assume it was that.
Desmond knew he himself would be paranoid that everyone was out to get him if he had taken the title from someone as accomplished as Altaïr.
Plus Desmond knew a bit about having an inferiority complex that threatened to choke one’s life.
God, he couldn’t believe he was accepting the fact that he understood where Abbas Sofian was coming from.
At the very least, they led different lives.
Desmond ran away and spent years ignoring it, while Abbas decided that channeling all his frustration and anger towards a single target was a healthy idea.
He wasn’t sympathizing with Abbas and he wasn’t going to forget all the tragedy he created but…
He also knew that he would be condemning a man who hadn’t done those yet if he was to kill Abbas right now.
Preventing a tragedy by killing someone who hasn’t done anything wrong yet was a slippery slope that Desmond didn’t think he should be sliding on just yet.
Taking Rashid out had always been in his plans because Desmond knew that the old man would have betrayed them sooner or later. Desmond could not change that part of history.
Even before Rashid had joined the Templars, his desire to be the ruler of Masyaf was already engraved in his heart.
But Desmond had no evidence that Abbas would destroy the Brotherhood just to make Altaïr suffer. The worst Abbas had done was try to assassinate Altaïr and he had a flimsy excuse (but an excuse nonetheless) of how Altaïr was a traitor.
Masyaf did kill traitors almost immediately.
It won’t necessarily keep Abbas from being punished for his actions but it wouldn’t warrant a death sentence.
So his plan was to keep Abbas in Masyaf and let him do his thing as an Assassin. Whether he retired or died in one of the missions was up to his skills.
Abbas’ desire to be a mentor was most definitely brought by Altaïr becoming the mentor and having the Apple in his possession. Maybe the Apple even corrupted him during the time he held it for a few moments.
So Desmond was going to remove both from the playing field.
Altaïr would never agree to becoming Masyaf’s next mentor. Hell, he wouldn’t even agree to being Desmond’s Keeper. Altaïr seemed to enjoy the freedom and liberty given to him by being Desmond’s consort and Desmond had a feeling that Zain wouldn’t need to be his guard because Altaïr would be doing that all on his own.
Altaïr looked happier with his standing right now in Alamut and Desmond knew that he would continue to support him, even when he officially becomes the mentor, as both his consort and as a Master Assassin.
The Apple would also be kept hidden from most of the Brotherhood. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them but he would prefer if the Apple’s existence would be left as a rumor at most. Desmond would probably use it to help plan for the future, less of a guide but as a parting gift.
But more importantly… he wanted the Brotherhood to walk their own path instead of being forced to dance to the tune of these artifacts.
If he could find a way to make some kind of EMP that would destroy them all without unintentionally destroying the device that would protect the world from the Solar Flare, that would be better.
While they could be used to help humanity, there would always be a risk of them falling into the hands of those who would abuse their power for selfish reasons.
Once he removed Juno, the Brotherhood would be free to make their own future.
Maybe it would lead them to a darker future but Desmond would try to help them to the best of his ability as he lived his own life.
How though… Well…
That was a problem he was going to tackle in the future.
Right now, the problem was what to do with Abbas Sofian.
When he learned that Abbas Sofian was being kept under heavy surveillance in Altaïr’s official (empty) room, he thought that Abbas tried to attack Altaïr again.
It wasn’t the first time Abbas used Altaïr’s betrayal as an excuse to try and kill him after all.
He figured that they’d just throw him in the dungeons together with Harash and, once things settled a bit, Desmond would use this incident to punish him by stationing him to one of the farthest strongholds the Brotherhood had.
Then Rawiya visited him just as they were escorting Harash to the dungeons and whispered to him that his father wanted him to come to Altaïr’s room because Abbas said some interesting things to his father.
When he reached the room, Abbas was on the floor, his stomach pressed against the ground and his arms tied behind his back with one of his father’s guard behind him.
Diya al-Dīn was sitting on a chair in front of him, far enough that Abbas would have to charge him if he wanted to land an attack. His father’s other guard was standing to his right, poised to step forward at any time to block any attack.
Altaïr stood behind Diya al-Dīn, hands behind his back as he held something and keeping a steady gaze on Abbas. His head was turned slightly towards the door.
It would be easy to assume that Altaïr had been staring at the door waiting for Desmond the entire time and Desmond was sure a lot of people here in Alamut would accept such a thing as a fact.
Desmond knew that wasn’t true though. Altaïr probably heard Desmond’s footsteps when he got close even though Desmond made sure that he was as silent as he could be as he made his way to them.
Altaïr’s heightened senses would have heard him regardless.
Desmond nodded at him, knowing now would be a bad time to smile even if he wanted to. Altaïr nodded back but remained quiet, watching him as he entered the room.
Bennu let out a sound of acknowledgment, his lightly glowing eyes barely visible from his perch on the window sill.
One of his mothers was watching and Desmond had a feeling that they would be having a long family meeting (without Jalāl) after this.
“Father, you called for me?” Desmond said in lieu of greeting.
“Ah, Desmond. Has everything been sorted with Harash then?” Diya al-Dīn asked even though he should have already received a report that Harash was being escorted to the dungeons.
“Yes.” Desmond answered regardless, knowing that this was Diya al-Dīn’s ploy to show Abbas the power that Alamut wielded over Masyaf, “Khalid is also on his way to explain to the other Assassins from Masyaf why Harash is being detained. The team that will be sent to take over Ḥalab is ready and only needs your signal to leave.”
“That’s wonderful. I’ll talk to them after this and make sure none of them are too tired for this journey, considering we are requesting them to travel in the middle of the night.” Diya al-Dīn said before smiling at Abbas, “For now, let us talk about what Abbas Sofian has for us.”
Altaïr handed Desmond something wrapped in leather and tied by a simple cord.
Desmond untied the cord first before unfolding the leather, keeping a blank expression as he saw folded paper and opened envelopes inside.
Altaïr offered both of his hands with his palms up and Desmond placed them on top of his hands before taking the topmost letter from the small pile.
Desmond took out the letter inside and skimmed through it before returning it inside the envelope. He quickly checked a few more before placing them all back in Altaïr’s hands.
“Where did you find these?” Desmond asked as he turned to look at Abbas.
“When I returned to Tyre, I tried asking the elders if Alamut’s mentor is our real master.” Abbas explained as he remained laying on the floor, turning his head so his chin would rest on the floor, letting him look directly at Desmond, “They warned me not to ask questions that would get me in trouble.”
“And, instead of backing down, you what? Looked all over Rashid’s drawers in his private office?” Desmond asked as he tilted his head.
The curious thing was that the Masyaf team didn’t find these.
Did Abbas take them before their mission?
“They were underneath the fortress.”
Desmond froze.
Underneath?
Before Altaïr built his library underneath Masyaf, the only thing there was the emergency tunnels that the Brotherhood would use only in the most dire of circumstances.
That was the very same tunnels Darim used to leave Masyaf with the rest of the Brotherhood after saying goodbye to Altaïr.
Desmond knew from the reports that Kadar led the team they sent there into the tunnels to escape Masyaf. There weren’t as many paths as the complex tunnel system underneath Alamut itself and there was only one exit but everyone who used it agreed that it would have taken at least a day to find the exit if they didn’t know the actual route.
Altaïr once told him he memorized the route after Rashid told him about it when he was young but, normally, recruits would remember the route by singing a children’s song about a rabbit trying to escape a hungry wolf.
Desmond didn’t really remember the entire song when Kadar sang it once while they were recounting their escape, only that ‘jump over bushes’ meant to turn right, ‘scurry underneath a fallen log’ meant to turn left, and ‘run faster’ means to pick the middle path.
The ending was morbid though. The rabbit scurried under another fallen log but the wolf was faster, jumping on it while the rabbit was still underneath, crushing the rabbit with the weight of the log.
It was meant to be trick.
‘The left path is a trap, go to the other path’.
The trap itself was supposed to be certain death but…
“Did he hide these in the path leading to the final trap?” Desmond asked.
Abbas looked surprised for a moment before he answered, “Yes. There was a false brick just before the trap itself.”
It had been a while since their mission in Tyre.
If Abbas had spent all that time looking for any evidence…
Desmond had to admit that he was tenacious if nothing else.
This was the man who spent decades slowly poisoning the Brotherhood underneath Altaïr’s shadows.
He was dangerous, that was for sure.
“We will have to check all of these to be sure but I highly doubt we would find one that would have anything incriminating for Rashid himself.”
There must be something in this pile that made Abbas believe that Rashid had betrayed him but it wouldn’t be enough.
Abbas was already ‘primed’ to mistrust Rashid because of Desmond’s words back then. The letters were the final push for him but it might not be enough for the rest of Masyaf.
One of the reasons why they were compiling evidence that Rashid had used his Assassins to help the Templars was because everyone knew Rashid would have destroyed anything that would even implicate him.
… that he knew about.
That was why Desmond was betting on Harash. Harash would be paranoid enough to think someone would betray him since he had been betraying everyone. And he also knew just how merciless Rashid could become, so there was a high chance he would have kept something that can be used either to blackmail Rashid or to use as a bargaining chip against someone who had beef with Rashid.
But it wasn’t like Abbas just gave them garbage.
Desmond took one of the letters and unfolded it once more.
The handwriting was definitely familiar.
A very familiar thorn that had long dug its roots here in Alamut.
“However, we can use some of these to take care of others and make a list of certain individuals we need to take care of.” Desmond noted before staring down at Abbas, “Are you going to say that you did this for the Brotherhood? Or are you looking for a reward?”
Abbas laughed as he glared at Altaïr, “If any of these were of help to our true master then I request…”
Abbas turned to face Diya al-Dīn as he asked, “That my life be spared.”
“Your life?” Diya al-Dīn tilted his head.
“I had tried to take the life of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad back in Tyre. I was only spared through your son’s mercy.” Abbas explained quickly and Desmond wanted to correct him that he spared Abbas’ life because of Altaïr’s mercy but Abbas continued before Desmond could cut him off, “I am not a fool. I know that what I have done will only endanger my life once your son becomes the mentor.”
“I see…” Diya al-Dīn nodded, “So you want a promise from me that you will not be executed for attempted murder.”
Abbas was definitely not stupid.
He aimed to get a pardon from Diya al-Dīn because he was sure Desmond would never throw away any reward his father had given during his tenure as the ‘mentor’.
The funny thing was…
Desmond would totally destroy everything his parents had build with a sledgehammer if he needed to.
The Brotherhood must change to survive.
And Desmond knew that he has the highest chance of ensuring the Brotherhood would be ready for the tragedies that would follow its shadow even after his time.
Diya al-Dīn glanced at Desmond and Altaïr before laughing. He smiled at Abbas as he said, “I understand why you would beg for such mercy. My son would kill anyone who would dare hurt the man he loves.”
“Unfortunately for you…” Diya al-Dīn waved a hand towards Desmond as he said, “My son has been the mentor since I’ve returned from curing my patients.”
Abbas paled at those words while Desmond corrected, “Acting mentor.”
“Unofficial mentor.” Diya al-Dīn corrected his son’s correction.
Desmond sighed.
Officially, yes, he was the acting mentor. Whenever he tried to ask his parents when he would return the duties and responsibilities to them, his father would just give the same excuse of wanting to focus on his patients.
And his mothers would just tell him to ‘ask your father’.
If this was the way he was going to become the mentor of Alamut, he was going to quit.
He didn’t want a party or something like that.
It would have been nice if there was an actual announcement though.
He knew they were pushing against any actual announcement because Desmond told them that he might have to leave for quite a long time sometime next year.
It would look strange if he was to become the mentor now and leave months later.
Now that he thought about it…
Altaïr did the same thing in the original timeline.
Malik must have had severe headaches over that.
“As such…” His father’s voice brought Desmond back from his musing, “Your reward would depend on my son’s mercy.”
Desmond saw Abbas’s entire face turned white.
Now Desmond felt like he was the devil passing judgment.
Desmond knew that Altaïr wouldn’t argue with him if he was to order Abbas be killed right here and now.
But, at the same time, Desmond also knew that Altaïr would never wish for Abbas’ death.
Even after everything that had happened…
What he felt… what Ezio felt when he watched Altaïr shoot Abbas wasn’t rage or hatred.
Killing Abbas was simply the right thing to do.
He didn’t want to take vengeance anymore. He wanted peace.
And he wanted the Brotherhood to be safe.
Altaïr never forgave Abbas for causing the death of Maria and Sef. But he also listened to Maria’s final words and killed him not for revenge but to protect what was left of the Brotherhood.
What was left of the only ‘place’ he knew as home.
Desmond did not want Altaïr to ever feel such thing. Killing Abbas would make things easier but it would also be unfair.
He didn’t necessarily believe that Abbas deserved a second chance but…
He also cannot execute a man for the crimes he might not commit in the future. Because of this…
“You will spend the entirety of your time here in Alamut in the dungeons for attempting to kill Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad. Everything you’ve sent us will be reviewed and will be the basis of your punishment. Depending on how useful these-” Desmond waved the letter in his hand once, “-documents will be, your punishment may be lightened.”
“But I promise I won’t order your death.” Desmond said with a sigh, hating every word that leaves his mouth.
“Thank y-”
“You are not allowed to come near Altaïr unless it’s an emergency.” Desmond cut him off. He didn’t really want to hear any gratitude from Abbas Sofian of all people. He glared at him as he continued, “Because your actions in Tyre were an embarrassment to the robes you wear, you will be stripped of all your ranks and be demoted to the rank of novice. Where you will be stationed to redo your training will depend on how useful these documents and letters you’ve brought.”
“That is my final mercy to you, Abbas Sofian.”
“Good morning!” A young girl with bright eyes shouted as she stood on her tiptoes to rest her chin against the open window. Her stomach quietly growled at the smell of fresh bread that permeated the small bakery.
A man stepped forward, holding a tray filled with loaves of bread, fresh from the oven, and smiled, “Ah! Good morning, Farida. Are you here to buy bread?”
“No, thank you!” The girl said and grabbed a small pouch, placing it on the window sill as she said, “I helped omi with cooking today! Oh, my sister and brother helped too!”
“That’s wonderful.” The baker nodded as he placed the tray on a table filled with the rest of today’s inventory. He walked towards the window sill as he asked, “What did you cook?”
“Abi’s favorite!” The girl exclaimed before saying, “I’m going to bring some to abi!”
“Oh? I see. Hasan is so lucky to have such a kind daughter like you.” The baker said with a smile.
“Thank you!” The girl pushed the pouch slightly as she asked, “Abi said he’d be busy this morning with work so we want to surprise him with his favorite food.”
The baker nodded along, letting out an encouraging sound for the girl to continue. Farida smiled shyly as she asked, “We want to leave a letter so abi could read it when he finds it.”
“I see, I see.” The baker nodded and grabbed a clean piece of paper and a quill that had been placed on a small table near the window, “Of course. I’m sure Hasan would love it. What should I write, Farida?”
“Thank you!” She said before quickly adding, “Oh! Please don’t write that! I didn’t mean-”
The baker chuckled and nodded as he said, “I didn’t write it. Don’t worry.”
She let out a sigh of relief before saying, “Hello, abi! We all helped omi in making this…”
“Adha!”
Adha nodded at her batchmates who all chuckled and waved her off. She jogged towards the young girl brimming with hardly contained excitement. She was hugging a basket as she continued to sway slightly.
“Hello, Farida.” Adha greeted as she knelt in front of the young girl.
“We helped omi make this!” Farida handed the basket to Adha as she explained, “But abi told me not to get too close because it might be dangerous.”
“Yeah, it can get dangerous. I’ll make sure this gets to his office, alright?” Adha said with a smile.
“Thank you!” Farida said before looking at Adha expectantly.
Adha chuckled as she stood, patting Farida’s head and feeling the softness of the fabric of the child’s hijab against her calloused hand, “How about I teach you how to do a backflip tomorrow?”
“Really?!” Farida nodded as she asked, “You promise?”
“I promise.” Adha patted her head once more as she said, “Run along now, Farida. And…”
“Thank you.” Adha whispered.
Farida blinked before grinning as she said, “Safety and peace, Adha!”
“Upon you as well, little one.”
Adha knocked and waited for Hasan to say, “It’s open.”
Adha opened the door and walked inside as she said, “Hello, Hasan.”
Hasan raised his head as he placed the quill back on the ink bottle. He gave a curt nod as he said, “Adha. Does Desmond have a message for me?”
Considering that Desmond had never asked Adha to give Hasan a message, Adha supposed it still made sense that Hasan would assume she was there because of Desmond.
“I’m here to deliver a gift from Farida and her siblings… except Kasim. Kasim wouldn’t have been able to help them with this since he’s still on a mission.” Adha showed Hasan the basket, careful not to place it on the table filled with documents and paperwork, most probably reports by his team that Hasan needed to check and approve before they would be given to Desmond.
“From Farida?” The stern man’s face softened slightly.
Slightly.
He stood and took the basket from Adha. Adha smiled as she said, “Please read the letter and give it to me.”
“Why would you want my children’s letter?” Hasan glared at her.
“Farida asked the baker in town to write it for her.” Adha explained, causing Hasan’s glare to turn into a frown.
“Why would Farida do that? She knows how to wri- Ah.” Hasan’s confusion turned into a calculating gaze. He was still staring at Adha but she knew that he was staring beyond her.
“I see. I would appreciate it if Desmond wouldn’t use my daughter for his plans but…” Hasan used one hand to unfold the letter on top of a small fabric protecting the food his children and wife had made for him, “It’s a good practice for her, I suppose.”
Huh.
Adha assumed Hasan would be against Farida becoming an Assassin.
“Can I train her?”
“Oded will train my daughter, novice.”
Adha could be cheeky and remind Hasan she was still a recruit but… well…
Being called a novice was Hasan’s way of accepting her.
She’d take it.
Chapter 95
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
I’ve made this announcement in Tumblr last week but I’m going to put this announcement here as well just to be sure.
My job cut my hours in half. Because of this, I have to find a second job and that would cut off my free time. Don’t worry, I’m not going to stop writing or anything drastic. However, I will stop answering plot idea asks and submissions in Tumblr by next year :(
AO3 side of things, depending on how much time my second job would demand of me, I might not be able to write any other fics other than my current multichaptered fic (aka Eagle of Alamut). This would mean probably no more megaposting on Altaïr’s and Desmond’s birth & death day and my August Birthday Megaposting :(
In conclusion, Eagle of Alamut would still continue and I’ll probably also write another multichaptered AltDes after Eagle of Alamut. Other than that? I probably won’t have time for any other fics sorry :(
Chapter Text
The plan to remove Rashid as the leader of Masyaf went on a backburner because of what happened in the Jerusalem bureau but Desmond had been working on the reports the teams had given him during that busy period whenever he had a bit of free time.
And now…
Khalid and Peredur were free to take care of the non urgent matters that found themselves on Desmond’s desk. They even picked aides of their own that would assist them, as well as be their substitutes if they were given a mission or an urgent task.
And the best part?
They both chose scholars to be their aides.
Which meant that their aides would never leave Alamut unless they had some kind of personal emergency.
And, because they were only going to touch the non urgent documents and files, they would only have access to information pertaining to Alamut as a whole and not any sensitive information concerning the Brotherhood. The most confidential file they’d get their hands on would be the patrol reports that Rawiya would summarize.
This meant that Desmond could make an argument (and win said argument) that he wasn’t jeopardizing the Brotherhood by letting these two scholars take care of some of the paperwork.
If things went well, he’d let the scholars take over the paperwork that Peredur and Khalid would help him with and free his friends from the torment.
Also, Desmond felt bad asking for their help considering Peredur was an Assassin who went on missions anywhere he was ordered to and Khalid should be more than busy with his own research back here in Alamut.
Things would be better once Desmond sorted out his own council but he was pushing that one aside at the moment because kicking Rashid off his high horse was more important.
Well…
This was more important.
“I’m glad everyone is safe.”
Desmond remained quiet, knowing that what she needed most was his silence.
It felt like setti had aged a decade since he last saw her. The tiredness was prominent in her slumped shoulders and her wrinkled clothes.
His heart ached as he saw the pain she tried to hide behind her tear-filled eyes.
She held her husband’s hand with both of her hands and she kept staring at the sleeping form of her husband.
The Rafiq’s age was a leading factor to the severe damage the poison had left. It was small mercies that he wasn’t in a coma but his body had weakened so significantly that a whole basketful of medicine had been prescribed to him.
Desmond checked the medicines in the basket and they were mostly vitamins and nutrient supplements that his father could make with his knowledge and experience as a doctor. He had even instructed what he could or could not eat in a small letter left on top of the basket. There was also a bottle to keep the pain at bay as the Rafiq was now suffering from regular stomachaches. It had the side effect of making the Rafiq too sleepy to do anything.
And there was no way to forget the fact that the Rafiq had lost any control he could have of his legs. Altaïr was already making a wooden wheelchair for him using his new found hobby of carpenting/wood carving. The design was based on what little Desmond could remember of how a wheelchair worked. It wasn’t like he actually knew how wheelchairs worked but Altaïr seemed to have gotten a few ideas of his own listening to Desmond ramble about what a wheelchair looked like and how it functioned.
They were hopeful that the wheelchair would ease the pain the couple had right now.
Desmond placed a hand on her back. Setti chuckled and patted Desmond’s knee once before she said, “Thank you for telling me the truth, Desmond.”
She turned to smile at him as she added, “And please tell your father and Altaïr that they could have told me. I would have taken the news well from them too.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile, not even surprised that setti realized that Diya al-Dīn asked Desmond to be the one to tell setti the truth about the poison because Altaïr suggested that Desmond would be the best person to talk to setti.
“Yeah, they’re both awkward like that.” Desmond admitted.
To be more exact, Altaïr felt that he would screw things up by being himself while Diya al-Dīn knew that it would better to hear such news from someone she knew and not the elusive ‘mentor’ of Alamut.
Diya al-Dīn knew that setti needed someone she could be vulnerable with and someone of high rank like him would not be a good fit.
“We’ll make sure the one who planned this will pay.” Desmond promised.
“It’s Al Mualim isn’t it?”
Desmond kept his expression in check but he had been momentarily surprised to hear setti say such things.
Setti smiled at him and Desmond’s heart ached at the lack of life her smile held, “My husband complained to me about how Al Mualim ordered him to ignore the crusaders sighted around the temple mount. He was even ordered to get the informants and everybody else to stay away.”
“Did he… did he ask Rashid why?” Desmond asked. Depending on the sequence of events, it was possible that the Rafiq was poisoned because he questioned Rashid’s orders.
“No.” She shook her head before looking at her sleeping husband, “I asked him if he was going to ask Al Mualim why we were turning a blind eye and he said…”
“I’d rather not give him any excuse to cut my years with you shorter than they already are.”
Desmond’s hand balled into a fist as he kept it resting on his knee. He dropped his other hand, knowing it would not give setti any comfort if he was to rub her back.
The Rafiq had been scared that Rashid would kill him if he asked any questions.
That meant he pretended nothing was wrong to keep Rashid from taking him out but…
Rashid had always been planning to poison him. Whether he kept his mouth shut or asked questions didn’t matter. That tea must have been sent to him even before the first reports of the Templars’ movements reached the bureau.
Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if Rashid had ordered him to turn a blind eye because he was planning to pin the Brotherhood’s lack of action on him once he died from ‘natural causes’.
If Desmond was to guess how Rashid would play it, he would probably use the Rafiq’s weakening state as an excuse. He would say something along the lines of how the Rafiq was unable to think straight during his last days or…
He was planning to make the Rafiq his fall guy and paint him as a Templar spy after his death.
Either way made Desmond’s blood boil.
This was the man that gave setti a new family and helped her find happiness again.
Desmond was sure if people learned that Rashid tried to kill her husband, people would want to beat the crap out of him, not just because the Rafiq was a good man but because a lot of the Assassins considered setti as a kind mother of theirs.
Of course, they didn’t have actual evidence that it was Rashid who wanted him dead.
If anything, the tea being poisoned could give Rashid an excuse that Harash was the one behind it.
After all, Harash was the one who delivered the tea. It would be easy for Rashid to argue that Harash decided to poison the Rafiq out of his own free will.
And that was why it was important that the team they sent to Ḥalab find Harash’s safety net.
If anyone would keep dirt on Rashid they could use, it would be a man paranoid enough to believe everyone was out to get him.
And Harash was that person.
“I’m sure you all have a plan to take care of it so let’s try and relax a bit for now, alright?” Setti requested with a small smile, “Everyone’s been transferred to Alamut then?”
Desmond knew that setti was trying to change the subject because she didn’t want to burden Desmond any further.
Desmond didn’t mind. He wanted to help setti and, if she wanted to keep her mind off this for now, he’d help her.
He had a feeling she wanted to talk to her husband about this after all.
“Yes, we’re hoping everyone will get back on their feet soon but father wants to keep a close eye on everyone who was poisoned to make sure there will be no complications.” Desmond answered, “Everyone will have to take it easy for now though and father is working on a physical recovery plan for them, but he’ll have to wait to finalize it until they can give him an idea of how far they can move their bodies without over exhausting themselves.”
“He’s been quite busy with those preparations on top of monitoring everyone’s health.” Desmond continued, “That’s why I suggested to him that he take on an assistant.”
Desmond waited for setti to turn to stare at him before he suggested, “Setti, what do you think of becoming my father’s assistant?”
Setti ’s eyes widened at the suggestion. She looked at her sleeping husband then back at Desmond as he said, “I… I can’t…”
“I’m not forcing you, of course.” Desmond said with a small smile, “This isn’t an order or anything. I just thought you’re probably one of the most qualified to assist my father with his work as the doctor of Alamut.”
“You know a lot about medicinal plants, right?” Desmond asked, “The dry leaves you gave me before I left really helped and-”
“I didn’t notice that the tea I was giving my husband and children was poison.” She whispered as she looked at her hands, gripping her husband’s hand tightly.
“My father wasn’t sure if it was poison at first too.” Desmond reminded her, “None of us did. Knowing a lot about things doesn’t mean we know everything about them. The only reason why we even found out it was poison was because everyone worked together to figure things out.”
“You don’t have to accept my offer, setti .” Desmond placed a hand on her back once more, “Alamut will take care of you and your family. We’re preparing rooms for your family here in the palace. Once your husband gets better, we’ll talk to him about what he wants to do. We can find him a good job here in Alamut if he doesn’t want to retire yet.”
Desmond hoped he’d retire though. He already had a retirement plan that he had proposed a year ago. It was accepted but no one wanted to retire yet so it was never put into effect. It had a monthly allowance with special benefits like free meals in the dining hall and free access to the scholar’s tower for him, his spouse and any underage children they had but Desmond felt like he should talk to the Rafiq about it once he’s ready.
Give him a bit more compensation for being the first test subject for Desmond’s retirement plan in exchange for talking to him at least once a month to see if the monthly allowance was enough for his entire family.
And also make sure he was doing okay.
“If I’m completely honest, my suggestion that you assist my father comes from a very selfish place.” Desmond added as he looked at the sleeping Rafiq. He felt setti ’s eyes on him as he explained, “One of the reasons why my father decided to be a doctor was because he knew that people would trust him with their lives because of who he is. But it’s because of that trust that he tend to get too focused on his desire to help.”
“You want me to keep an eye on him?” She asked, becoming confused when Desmond shook his head.
“Father can take of himself. He knows my mothers would be displeased if he overworked himself to being sick and his guards are there to protect him and keep him from overworking himself.” Desmond explained when he noticed her confused expression.
His lips curled into a small smile as he admitted, “His guards are more scared of his wives than they are of him so they have the courage to tell him to stop and take a rest whenever they feel like he could use one.”
He pressed his back against his chair as he explained, “What he needs is someone he can trust with preparing the medicine and helping him with the patients.”
Desmond remembered how he wasn’t allowed to actually make any medicine when he was first starting out. He thought it made sense back then. No one in their right mind would get a young man to make medicine by himself.
But he had been wrong.
Diya al-Dīn simply didn’t trust him enough back then, otherwise his father would have taught him how to make the easy ones he usually needed.
He had been a polite and caring employer that made sure to draw the line between them and was also the first one to cross it later on.
“And you are the most trustworthy person in Alamut who can help him right now.” Desmond’s lips curved into an apologetic smile as he admitted, “You know how painful it would be to poison someone.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what Desmond meant.
“I see…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes and squeezed her husband’s hand as she said, “I will think about it.”
“Take all the time you need, setti .” Desmond stood and patted the back of her seat, knowing it might be too much to actually try and comfort her right now when he had just slapped her with his words.
He didn’t wait for her to say anything else and began to walk out of the room.
“Desmond…”
Her feeble voice stopped him from crossing the doorway. He turned around to face her but all that greeted him was her back.
“Thank you.”
It was barely a whisper.
But Desmond heard it all the same.
There were a lot of ways Desmond could reply to that.
But what setti needed to hear the most was…
“There’s no need to thank me, setti .” He said softly, “I just hope you make the right choice.”
He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath before turning left, walking the empty hallway quietly.
Once he reached the next hallway, he heard a familiar voice, subconsciously loosening his tense shoulders.
“I felt you touch my belt.”
“You’re lying! How can you feel that?! Your belt is thick!”
Desmond walked further into the hallway and his lips curved into a small smile when he saw Altaïr leaning against one of the windows, letting a young girl stomp her feet in front of him.
Altaïr stood and turned his head towards him as he approached them. The girl noticed this and turned to look at Desmond as well.
“Oh, you’re back.” She stayed next to Altaïr, placing both hands behind her as she asked, “Are you done talking to mama?”
“Yes.” Desmond answered as he smiled at her, “Thank you for keeping him company, Sinem.”
She looked at Altaïr and Altaïr raised an eyebrow at her. She turned to look back at Desmond as she said, “He needs more friends to teach him how to play.”
Desmond blinked.
“He doesn’t even know how to play hide and seek.” She told him and Desmond was pretty sure Altaïr knew how to play hide and seek.
“Farida told me that no one is allowed to use their Sight when we play.” She pointed at Altaïr as she said with the solemnity of one passing judgment, “He cheated.”
Ah.
“I’ll talk to him about it.” Desmond said with a nod.
He didn’t even know she was playing with one of the other children who usually visited the Brotherhood.
He was pretty sure she was only allowed out of her room three days ago.
Or was it normal for kids to make friends this fast?
Desmond wouldn’t know…
She nodded with a look on her face that reminded Desmond too much of a Rafiq who just finished scolding a novice.
She patted his belt as she said, “Thank you.”
She walked pass him and Desmond grabbed her hood, earning a yelp as he kept her in place.
“Give it back.” Desmond sighed as he kept a hold of her hood even as she tried to squirm out of his grip.
She glared at him (which honestly looked more like a pout) and he let her go, taking the small pouch she offered him.
The same pouch she tried to nick from his belt.
“If you tell me that you felt me touch your thick belt, I’ll kick you.” She warned with narrowed eyes.
Desmond simply smiled at her, making her groan and stomp back to her parent’s room. Desmond waited until she was out of earshot before he turned to face Altaïr as he said, “Please tell me you weren’t teaching her how to pickpocket.”
“She already knew how.” Altaïr said, “She told me how she met setti and the Rafiq. She tried to pickpocket setti while she was in the market with the Rafiq. The Rafiq caught her and setti suggested they bring her to the bureau for dinner.”
Desmond hummed as he stood next to Altaïr, staring at the inner courtyard on the other side of the window. It wasn’t as grand as the gardens that separated the harem from the rest of the castle but this one didn’t remind Desmond of Masyaf.
It was a simple courtyard with one large tree that legends said had been in Alamut even before the Brotherhood came. Some even say that the castle was built around the tree.
Desmond called bullshit on that though.
Desmond had no idea just how old the tree was but, unless the tree had some great significance or something, it would have been used as lumber back then when the castle was just being constructed.
It was more likely that one of the previous mentors planted the tree to celebrate something and things got spun out of proportions after the Brotherhood succeeded the Hidden Ones.
Raiza did tell him about how there were the Hidden Ones who didn’t want their organization to step into the light as the Assassin Brotherhood. Their insistence that the Hidden Ones should remain in the shadows in secret was one of the reasons why they burned as many documents and books pertaining to their past as they could. The only reason why Khalid found a journal that talked about the Hidden Ones’ tools was because those Hidden Ones were stopped before they could destroy everything. Raiza estimated that they were able to destroy 99% of their records before they were stopped.
All that history… burned to ashes.
Desmond was honestly torn by the entire thing.
On one hand, he agreed that the Brotherhood should have never shown their presence to the world at large. A lot of deaths and suffering could have been prevented had the Brotherhood remained in the shadows.
On the other hand, Desmond couldn’t help but believe that the destruction of all those books and journals had set the Brotherhood back close to the starting point.
“I was just teaching her how to be better at it.” Altaïr defended himself, making Desmond chuckle as he shook off his musing of a past he could not change. Altaïr kept his attention on the empty hallway, making Desmond smile.
Even now, he was still trying to protect Desmond.
He knew it was because Altaïr was raised to expect danger in every corner. Desmond himself was raised the same way.
But he really hoped one day, Altaïr would feel safe here in Alamut, as he did.
For now…
Desmond pressed their shoulders together and rested the side of his head on Altaïr’s shoulder, closing his eyes as he let out a tired sigh.
“You’re going to complain about your neck later.” Altaïr whispered and Desmond felt his lips on the top of his head.
“That’s future me’s problem.” Desmond whispered back, feeling Altaïr’s warm breath tickle his hair as he chuckled.
Altaïr turned his head and pressed his cheek against the top of Desmond’s head.
Their necks were going to punish them later but both of them ignored it.
“How was setti ?” Altaïr asked quietly.
“She’s holding up.” Desmond whispered back.
But they both knew that she was slowly being eaten by a guilt that shouldn’t even exist in the first place.
She blamed herself for serving a tea that she didn’t know was poison.
The only thing that was keeping her afloat was her family.
But they were also a reminder of the sin she believed she committed.
Trying to console her would not be enough.
Trying to distract her with something else would only make her even guiltier when she finally remembers what she had done.
So Altaïr proposed that they use her guilt against her.
And change it to something that would give her hope and a little push forward.
‘Atonement’.
Becoming the doctor’s assistant meant that she would help heal the people of Alamut, including the ones who had been poisoned.
She would be diligent in her work, maybe even a bit overzealous in making sure all the ingredients would be well prepared and correct.
Desmond knew that they risked the chance of her becoming too focused on being helpful to the point that it would be detrimental to her health but that was also why Altaïr suggested she worked for Desmond’s father.
Diya al-Dīn honed his observation skills to a frightening degree. He was able to learn a lot about Desmond when they first met because of that skill.
Altaïr even told him that Diya al-Dīn asked him directly if he felt that he needed to be useful to be allowed to live after just talking to him for a bit.
Desmond honestly thought that Altaïr was overestimating his father a bit. Desmond guessed that Diya al-Dīn had been quietly observing Altaïr the entire time they were together as well. Their conversation just gave his father a chance to ask him about it.
So setti would be fine.
They’d make sure she’d be alright…
No matter how long it would take.
“I think her daughter can be a good Assassin.”
Desmond sighed and poked Altaïr’s ribs as he said, “Don’t tell her that. She’s still recovering and she should focus on that.”
“I don’t have to tell her anything. She told me her friend introduced her to Adha and now she wants to be an Assassin.”
Oh man.
Desmond already knew that one of Kasim’s sisters wanted to become an Assassin because of Adha.
He was hoping that Adha’s performance as an Assassin would smooth things over for Desmond’s plan to accept anyone who wants to become an Assassin, regardless of gender.
But with how some impressionable young girls were thinking Adha was so cool even just as a recruit, Desmond would have to talk to two stubborn old men who might want to skewer him for putting such thoughts in their daughters’ heads.
But…
Not right now.
Right now, he’d just enjoy this small pocket of comfortable quiet.
He had a feeling that things were going to get quite hectic once Ḥalab comes under their control.
Oh. And once the Masyaf delegations finally decide to all leave, not just send a few of them back to Masyaf to report to Rashid.
Yeah…
It was definitely going to be hectic soon.
Chapter 96
Notes:
Just a head’s up, guys. Next chapter will be posted on Saturday, December 21, together with a few more fics as part of Desmond’s Death Day Megaposting XD
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Desmond also had another reason to ask setti to become his father’s assistant.
With setti helping the supposed ‘mentor’ with any medical tasks he might have, his father finally had a bit of free time. It took a week for setti to get used to how his father operated, while learning the many medicines and tinctures the only doctor in Alamut preferred to use, but Desmond could finally push some of the paperwork back to him and he wouldn’t have any other excuses left to laugh it off.
Having afternoon tea with setti and her husband every day also served to give Desmond a chance to learn if his father was overworking himself or slacking off.
Of course, Altaïr also joined them. There was no way Desmond wasn’t going to go with him. Did that mean they were having a ‘tea party’ double date every afternoon?
Desmond was not going to think about that.
It was a complete win for Desmond that Diya al-Dīn couldn’t complain about since he approved it in the first place.
During that time, Khalid and Peredur’s aides had gotten used to their new jobs and had now even taken over half of Khalid and Peredur’s paperwork.
A week after that, the first snow of the year began to fall.
It would be the perfect time for the Templars to begin digging underneath the temple. The cold would deter many from walking around and the wind could muffle any sounds they may make digging through.
Messages would also take much longer to be delivered and it was becoming more dangerous to travel.
This snow heralded a halt to everyone’s plans unless they were willing to risk the safety of their subordinates.
And Desmond wasn’t going to risk his people. That wasn’t the kind of mentor he wanted to be.
Maybe some would call him soft but he’d rather not risk anyone dying out there because of a sudden snowstorm or any other incidents.
Winter did make desperate people more desperate, after all.
At least the team they sent to Ḥalab managed to send word that they had taken over the Brotherhood’s stronghold there before winter truly arrived.
Desmond also received a letter from az-Zahir informing Alamut that they were acknowledging Rahim as the new leader of the Brotherhood in Ḥalab.
Rahim did not enjoy the sudden promotion and made it clear that he was only an interim leader.
Even clearer was his threat that he was going to burn their stronghold in Ḥalab if he didn’t have a replacement by the end of winter.
Desmond wished he could keep Rahim here with his sister and Amir but he didn’t say that to Rahim himself. Desmond knew his friend had been with him long enough to understand that he had no other choice. They needed his support now more than ever since Amir was still recovering but Desmond couldn’t think of anyone else to trust with taking over Ḥalab and looking for Harash’s ‘secret’ other than Rahim and Hamaal.
Rahim remained in Ḥalab for a while and he’d gotten to know the Assassins stationed there. They knew him enough that Desmond trusted Rahim would be able to get the Assassins to follow him after they learned of Harash’s betrayal.
Hamaal was sent with him because he knew a lot of the Saracen soldiers in Ḥalab. Their stay in az-Zahir’s palace gave Hamaal an excuse to get to know a lot of the soldiers both in the palace and patrolling the streets so Desmond was hoping Hamaal would be able to keep any desire to take him and the other Alamut Assassins sent there out by disgruntled Masyaf Assassins or traitors hiding within the stronghold at bay.
The guards could act as informants to give Hamaal a head’s up if anyone were acting suspicious as well and, if needed, as emergency obstacles if anyone was around while Hamaal was chasing a traitor.
If things went horribly wrong, Desmond gave them permission to request aid from az-Zahir.
They would become indebted to az-Zahir and, by extension, to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn but Desmond already had something to trade for their help in Ḥalab if necessary.
It was the very same thing he planned to trade as an apology for not accepting an alliance.
The list of Templars hiding on Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s side.
The other teams had managed to get information about all of the ones Desmond ‘met’ in the Animus and some that Desmond didn’t even know about.
Their connection to the Templars were all directly linked to the Assassins’ movements as ordered by Rashid.
All of them circumstantial, of course. The deaths of their predecessors and any who stood above them all ordered by Rashid with varying reasons.
All of the reasons recorded seemed to be valid. Abuse of power seemed to be a leading theme on a lot of them but that wasn’t all. Some killed their own competitors. Others took bribes. One even sold state information to a high ranking commander of the crusaders.
That information was used in the Siege of Acre and Desmond wasn’t entirely certain it was a coincidence that Rashid only ordered the death of that one after the crusaders had gotten a foothold in their lands.
Whether it was a coincidence or the Order was silencing a possible loose end, there wasn’t enough evidence to shed light to it.
Really, it was disheartening how so many people in power were corrupt.
Desmond knew that they couldn’t use these deaths to pin Rashid as a Templar and a traitor to the Brotherhood but…
They could use the fact that the other Templars have not been assassinated yet to question if there was something more.
After all, these specific Templars rose to power because of the missions the Assassins took and…
They’ve done just as much or even more horrible things than the ones that Rashid had ordered the deaths of.
It wasn’t a smoking gun but it made Rashid suspicious.
And there was also another hammer that they could use. Some of the letters that Abbas brought them were also addressed or written by these individuals.
Of course, they only have Abbas’ words of where they were found and there was nothing truly explicitly saying that these stacks of evidence were being kept by Rashid.
But Alamut could still use the contents as justification to take out a lot of people Rashid ignored, whether by assassination or through more ‘political’ means.
If nothing else, they could call Rashid’s inaction into question and maybe throw in a few low blows like asking if his mental faculties were going on a vacation when he hears the names of these unpunished Templars.
And it would definitely catch Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s attention if Desmond was to give him the information about those that were supposedly on his side but seemingly doing things that would benefit the crusaders as well.
This time, he’d let Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn clean his own house.
So yeah.
Desmond wasn’t worried about asking az-Zahir for help.
If they do ask for help, Desmond already had something to make them even.
If they don’t, the information Desmond had would make Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn owe them a favor or two while soothing any pride wounded by Desmond’s rejecting their offer for an alliance.
Maybe it was jaded of Desmond to plan for something like this but, even if he did consider az-Zahir a friend, he wasn’t stupid.
Lorenzo de’ Medici’s relationship with House Auditore still lingered in his mind.
He would not make the same mistake of becoming too close to ambitious men in power. While az-Zahir might be fine living his entire life as the emir of Ḥalab and nearby lands, Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was a different story.
The man had the drive and the ambition to match his intellect and power.
He knew from talking with az-Zahir that the young man loved his father and wanted him to be proud.
That was an easy line to fall out of.
Desmond didn’t necessarily think az-Zahir would abuse their friendship for his father’s sake but circumstances could just as easily change anyone’s mind.
So Desmond would stomp on any possibility of that happening.
All he hoped was to keep an amicable relationship with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn so that Jalāl wouldn’t have any problems dealing with him later when he takes over as the imam.
Overall, Desmond was sure everyone in Ḥalab would be fine during the winter.
Jerusalem would be another story though.
Desmond sent Kasim there after he had just returned from a short mission at the border of Alamut (a mission he was sure he asked for to get a bit of break as well as to stomp out any rumors that he and Altaïr were actually friends… which they were as far as Desmond was concerned but he’d let Kasim’s father do his best to hide that fact for as long as he wanted) because he knew that the Assassins from Masyaf had never seen Kasim before.
He usually only took missions near Rudkhan Castle when he was stationed there and near Alamut once he transferred here.
He ordered Kasim to go to Jerusalem as an informant, even got a trusted informant of theirs that would spend most of his time traveling the merchants’ roads send a letter of recommendation.
Well…
It was less a letter of recommendation and more of Kasim’s fake backstory as an informant from Egypt who needed to leave his base of operation because he got in the middle of a forbidden love between a powerful man’s daughter and a stable boy, selling escape routes to the eloping couple and getting hounded by her father’s soldiers because of it.
Desmond was sure Kasim would be able to use his experiences with Desmond and Altaïr to make his plight believable.
Kasim’s mission was to keep an eye on Jerusalem and any information about Rashid or the Masyaf Assassins. He was to record everything and only act if he deemed it necessary.
He was also to let the Templars do whatever they wanted in Jerusalem but keep a record of patrol routes and any whispers the Assassins or informants had about it.
Desmond didn’t mind telling Kasim that he was letting the Templars dig for the entirety of winter because the more time Rashid didn’t act on their encroachment, the tighter the noose he was placing around his own neck.
Honestly, this poisoning incident would have given them an excuse to take over Jerusalem’s bureau as well but Desmond knew that he would be pushing too much. Rashid had let Ḥalab fall under Alamut’s jurisdiction because of Harash but he would not relent on Jerusalem.
Rashid would never give up Jerusalem.
After all, he was still after the Apple.
So it was better to make Rashid believe that they were letting Jerusalem go as long as they were given Ḥalab.
Desmond sighed.
This was going to be a long winter…
Desmond finally had a bit of free time three days after the first snow fell in Alamut. Altaïr was busy with Khalid and the rest of the proofreaders, finalizing the special edition and Desmond wished he could be there.
He would be embarrassed (and happy) to hear about the things Altaïr had written about him but he promised Altaïr he would read it once it was published and…
It was so tempting to see the poor scholars try to stop Altaïr from adding more things while they were doing their final review that he knew it would be better if he stayed far away.
They believed the special edition would be able to bring more profit than usual so everyone wanted it to be successful.
Desmond was just happy that Altaïr was enjoying this. He had been absolutely worried when he heard that Altaïr didn’t sleep all that much to finish the book while they were in town with the patients but he saw how proud Altaïr was of what he written that Desmond was unable to even scold him.
If his new found hobby of wood carving (which Desmond gave him tips on since he had dabbled a bit when he was in Lambsar Castle) didn’t tire him out by then, Desmond had other ways to tire Altaïr out at night anyway.
So while Altaïr was having fun, Desmond figured it was time for him to give a bit of information to the ones still stuck in the dungeon.
He went to Abbas’ cell first because it was the closest.
He was, after all, the least likely person to run away.
“We’ve finished checking everything you’ve taken.” Desmond said in lieu of greeting. He didn’t felt the need to ask if he was alright or anything like that. The ones guarding the dungeons sent him reports daily.
Harash made no attempts to take his own life. Desmond assumed that Harash believed that he was going to have a chance to save himself by giving them information. He didn’t even berate Abbas for betraying Rashid.
If anything, they heard Harash tell Abbas that he did the right thing.
It seemed Desmond was wrong in thinking Harash’s loyalty was impregnable. Harash was loyal enough to follow Rashid into becoming a Templar but he wasn’t loyal enough to die for him.
Harash believed that Rashid was trying to sail a sinking ship and the right choice for them was to tie him to the helm and abandon ship.
Where Desmond got that metaphor, he wasn’t entirely sure but it was a bit accurate.
It just so happened that Desmond already had his own ship’s cannons ready to fire on any idiots who think they could abandon ship now.
Abbas, though, wasn’t an idiot.
Well…
He was an idiot but he wasn’t a Templar idiot who think he could get away with betraying the Brotherhood if he offered his master’s head on a golden plate.
“You will remain in the dungeons for the rest of winter mainly because I don’t want to see your face and I don’t want Altaïr to have to suffer your presence.” Desmond admitted without any shred of shame.
Everyone in Alamut knew of his preferential treatment for Altaïr and even the rest of the Masyaf delegations who had to remain in Alamut because of the heavy snow they were already having didn’t seemed surprised that Abbas landed himself in the dungeons.
It seemed they didn’t know Abbas tried to take Altaïr’s life back in Tyre. They had assumed he was sent to the dungeons because he sneaked into Altaïr’s room. They didn’t think Abbas laid a hand on Altaïr though and that he was sent to the dungeons for saying inappropriate things.
Desmond couldn’t blame them. From what remained of his vague memories, Abbas never tried to physically attack Altaïr. Even when he had taken over Masyaf, he let others try to kill Altaïr instead of doing it himself.
The fact that he tried his luck back in Tyre clued Desmond in on how Altaïr’s actions had made him rash.
Did Desmond plan for Abbas to try and broker a deal with Alamut when Desmond told him who held the real power in the Brotherhood?
No.
Honestly…
He did it because he hoped Abbas would confront Rashid and Rashid would do him a solid and take Abbas out himself.
It was underhanded, for sure, and Desmond honestly didn’t expect it to work at all. Rashid could just as easily turn it around and make Abbas more loyal to him than ever before.
And that was what Desmond believed would have happened. If Abbas had stayed loyal, it would have given Desmond an excuse to send him in one of the most distant strongholds or order his execution, depending on his actions as Rashid’s loyal dog.
Now though…
“You will be stationed in Lambsar Castle once winter ends.” Desmond announced, “The commander of the castle will be notified of your past transgressions and he will take you under his wing as a novice.”
“I could have let you rot in one of the farthest strongholds we have where skirmishes are a daily occurrence but I will grant this one mercy to reward you. Nadir will take good care of you.”
The people of Lambsar Castle were loyal to Nadir more than they were to the imam. Nadir was the one who took care of them and led them as their commander. Most people there were soldiers who knew the horrors of war and knew Nadir as their commander who sweated and bled with them.
Abbas would find it hard to take leadership from a man that held such loyal soldiers.
Abbas would lead an isolated life there unless he nurtured a relationship with Nadir and earned the soldiers’ trust.
And Desmond was sure that Nadir would not betray them.
He was, after all, Nur’s father.
He wouldn’t even question it if Desmond was to include another order.
‘Execute Abbas Sofian if his actions jeopardizes the Brotherhood or anyone in Lambsar Castle’.
Abbas simply bowed as he said, “Thank you for your mercy.”
Desmond ignored such empty words.
It was up to Abbas to survive such a place.
If he was lucky, he’d rebuild a life away from Altaïr and his past.
If he was unlucky…
Well…
Desmond gave him a chance.
He walked next to Harash’s cell and stared down at him. Unlike Abbas, they had chained his legs to the floor and his arms to the ceiling, giving him just enough space to walk around his small cell and move his arms so he could eat by himself.
His cell was also on the other side, the farthest from the exit as possible.
They could have gagged him as well to ensure he wouldn’t try to bite off his tongue but, in all honestly, it didn’t matter if Harash was alive or not.
Documents and any damning evidence he had hidden in Ḥalab would have more weight than anything he might say.
His words were useless, to be completely honest.
Rashid could just as easily destroy his credibility by saying that Harash was lying, either because he had been tortured and wanted it to stop or because he wanted to save his life so he would say whatever Alamut wanted to hear.
“You will remain here until it is time for us to travel to Masyaf.” Desmond informed him.
Harash looked at him for a moment before he asked with a bitter smile, “Will I have an unfortunate accident along the way?”
“No. We will get you to Masyaf so you may speak your side.” Desmond answered.
“So I am to be a witness then…” Harash closed his eyes and nodded, “If I only say the truth…”
He opened his eyes and asked, “Will you grant me mercy as well?”
Desmond smiled as he answered, “If your actions in Masyaf pleases me.”
Harash bowed but Desmond didn’t bother to hear whatever else he wanted to say.
As he left the dungeons, he let out a small sigh.
“Everything alright, Desmond?” The Assassin in charged of the dungeon today, an older man who used to watch him in the training ring when he was a recruit, asked as he stayed sitting on the small table pressed against the corner of what amounted to the reception room of the dungeon.
“Just thinking of the one other person we need to put into the dungeon once winter passes.” Desmond answered with a wry smile.
It would be so easy to arrest the baker now, considering they now had a letter that shared the same handwriting as the one that Adha requested Hasan’s daughter get.
Whether he had been in a hurry or he didn’t think he needed to change his handwriting didn’t matter.
All that mattered was that Rashid had received reports from him about Alamut.
Chapter 97
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The middle of winter heralded a weather pattern quite strange.
If it wasn’t snowing, it was raining.
Any day without snow or rain, Alamut was covered in fog till the sun had set.
A glimpse of the sun was a rarity that was becoming less frequent the further into winter they got.
Desmond didn’t want to think too deeply about it but a part of him wondered if this strange weather pattern had something to do with the facility underneath Alamut.
In all his time in Alamut, this was the first time this had happened and the only real difference between this year and the past years he spent winter back home was that Desmond interacted with the technology of Minerva’s kin.
But it wasn’t like Desmond had any way to find out if that was the case.
The dagger and hourglass he received from Minerva weren’t giving off any weird glow nor were they even vibrating slightly.
They weren’t warm or cold to the touch either.
They looked the same as always as far as Desmond could see, no changing design or anything.
The dagger still held that annoying blue shimmer. The hourglass looked the same and acted like a normal hourglass whenever Desmond flipped it.
Desmond couldn’t think of any other indication that they could be doing anything or reacting to anything.
To be completely honest, Desmond wasn’t even sure if the hourglass, which was meant to keep him hidden from Juno’s prying eyes, was even working properly.
He’d deal with it even if it was broken when the time comes. From what he could gather from Ratonhnhaké:ton’s memories and his own experience in the Grand Temple, Juno probably couldn’t just hijack any kind of technology.
Her emails were always a mess which could mean that she couldn’t necessarily access human technology very well.
The fact that this time’s technology hadn’t advanced that far was a blessing.
But she had more power over the crystal skull that was with Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe.
A crystal skull that was most likely with the same tribe right now.
Desmond had brokered a beneficial relationship with Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe, giving them a 40% cut of the profit his chili oil business was getting. It might be too big in the eyes of some of the other business-minded people that knew of this, but Desmond was paying for their loyalty in a nutshell.
Part of the deal was the exclusive rights to the chili as well as complete secrecy that they were the ones providing Desmond with the chili in the first place. In exchange, Desmond was not allowed to cultivate his own chilies anywhere.
Not that he had been planning to in the first place…
Part of the reason why his business was thriving was because he could charge more thanks to the limited amount of chilies they could produce each year. If he cultivated his own, he’d have to figure out what they needed via trial and error since there would be no support from the tribe nor any books that he could read. It wasn’t like he knew how to cultivate chilies back in the modern world, after all. Not to mention, he’d also have to fund the entire thing and the constant supply would also mean he would be adding more stock in the market which could end up lowering the price while cutting the profit.
Also…
It was too much work to think about the logistics and Desmond didn’t want to have a falling out with the tribe for making his own chili plantation.
… or whatever it was supposed to be called.
Another important part of their deal was that Desmond would provide security during Kaientaronkwen’s travels, meeting him at the usual port he would arrive in. Officially, there were meant to protect the chili but everyone knew they were there to act as muscle and to look pretty so Kaientaronkwen would have more bargaining power.
Desmond was hoping their long partnership would make the tribe listen to his side of the story at the very least.
Even if he was planning to visit them without any prior notice.
It couldn’t be helped. Kaientaronkwen had already finished delivery this year before the whole thing with Minerva even started. There was no way Desmond could send a letter to Kaientaronkwen about it.
He would just have to spin it in some way.
Or tell Kaientaronkwen the truth.
At least, a truth that Kaientaronkwen and his tribe would understand.
That was a problem for future Desmond, courtesy of Kaientaronkwen’s penchant of keeping his tribe’s location a secret and Desmond’s desire to indulge his ancestor’s tribe.
Worst case scenario, Desmond was fine being hated by the tribe if it meant removing Juno before she could manipulate Ratonhnhaké:ton.
At the very least…
Thinking about Minerva’s gifts reminded Desmond he still had unfinished business in the facility underneath Alamut.
It was the first time in so many days that Desmond actually had free time. With the strange weather they were having, Desmond had been knee deep in paperwork and meetings to ensure that they had supplies that could last them the entirety of winter and a few more months to be safe. He also had to make sure that all the supplies were secured in safe places that wouldn’t be destroyed by the weather.
Placing them in multiple locations gave Desmond and his aides more work but it was safer this way. If something happened due to accident or the work of an unknown spy, it was better that they had a chance of losing some of the supplies than all of them.
There was also his finalization of the patrol routes. The endless cycle of snow, rain and fog made it hard to see so they had to reorganize the patrols, focusing on people who had good mastery over their Sight. Using lanterns would make them an easy target after all.
This meant they had to pick people who could use their Sight continuously and adjust the duration of their patrols so they could rest their eyes before they overexerted themselves. Shorter patrols for everyone but with lots of overlapping schedules and routes to ensure there wouldn’t be any blind spots during the changing of patrols. Desmond also had to create different patrol routes each week to make it harder for anyone observing their movemennts.
It was an all hands on deck type of situation and Desmond had to make sure everyone was doing the right job, even if it meant doing multiple jobs in a day, without exhausting themselves.
Altaïr had been a godsend during that time, listing out everyone he knew and their strength and weakness.
His time helping the sick in the ruins helped him learn a lot about the people who volunteered and Desmond was wondering if Altaïr’s new hobby of wood carving, that was now becoming wood sculpting, had anything to do with the fact that he called one of the Assassins a great carpenter.
Desmond wasn’t entirely sure how good in carpentry that Assassin was supposed to be since Altaïr only saw him make a goat cage but if Altaïr had that much faith in him then Desmond was going to believe him.
Altaïr himself had been busy talking to the other proofreaders and working with them closely in editing his book. Desmond knew for a fact that, at the start, there were a lot of debates going on concerning what had to stay and what could be removed from the book itself.
The scholars seemed proud whenever they talked about it and Desmond was sure this freak weather pattern pushed all of them to scrutinize the book even further than they already had.
… or maybe they were bored. Desmond couldn’t really be sure with scholars.
Desmond would like nothing more than to spend his free time with Altaïr, doing whatever they wanted.
Reading, sleeping…
Maybe something more.
But Desmond also wanted Altaïr to carve his own place here in Alamut, get close to other people and find his own friends.
He also wanted him and Kadar to feel more welcomed, now that Kadar was allowed to leave his room.
Desmond was sure Faheem didn’t like the fact that Kadar was becoming friends with the scholars giving him his usual headache (setti was even trying to give him medicine for that headache which Desmond was pretty sure was just tea that helped relax someone) but he didn’t say anything because he wanted Kadar to feel welcomed.
So Desmond was going to do something productive with his free time.
Then if he had more time afterwards, he’d take a nap or something.
“Hey, guys.” He waved his hand as he approached the training ring.
“Oh, Desmond! Hello!” A lot of the recruits greeted as they stepped to the side so Desmond could see the ring.
Just in time to see Adha slap her opponent’s right arm before swiping their feet. She was on top of her opponent before he even dropped to the floor, pinning him as she grabbed his neck with her left hand. The recruits let out loud cheers and Desmond even heard a few children cheer as well. He looked around and found setti’s daughter with another girl watching with an Assassin looking after them and making sure they don’t try to climb the railing.
Desmond knew the other girl was Kasim’s sister but he wasn’t sure if she was the older one he asked Adha to recruit in obtaining a letter written by the spy or if it was the younger one.
Desmond was better off not trying to talk to them. The older of Kasim’s two younger sisters always ran away when he tried to talk to her before and that was why he asked Adha instead of directly asking her.
Hopefully, having a friend who wasn’t afraid to speak to him (and even tried to steal from him) would help her get used to seeing him.
He even saw the two of them talking to Altaïr once and he was sure setti’s daughter was complaining about him cheating at hide and seek.
“You guys really leave yourselves open a lot.” Adha noted as she let go of his neck and stepped back. She offered her hand and the Assassin grabbed it so she could help pull him up. They both knew he could get up just as easily and it was more of a show of his acknowledgment of Adha’s skills.
She let go of his hand and looked down as she added, “I’ve only seen you guys protect one area regularly.”
He stepped back as he said, “That’s because you always try to hit us there.”
“It’s a weak point.” She said with a shrug.
Desmond wasn’t sure if this was truly a good thing but, at least, the Masyaf delegates were feeling welcomed enough to spar with them.
Why they were sparring with Adha who was a recruit though…
Desmond was going to assume it was because they learned Adha was under Desmond’s tutelage.
Honestly, Desmond was just glad that the Assassins from Masyaf, who got stranded because of the weather, and everyone in Alamut were making an effort to coexist with one another.
“Assassins should use everything at their disposal.” Desmond commented as he placed his hands on the railings.
Adha and her opponent turned to face him and Desmond could feel everyone’s attention on him.
He didn’t really want to sound preachy right now though so he just smiled as he said, “In a fight where our lives are just one mistake from being taken from us, we have no room to hesitate.”
Ah, shit. That sounded a bit preachy already.
And, for some reason, he even sounded like Raiza to his own ears.
“I’m sure you’d get better in anticipating the unexpected if you keep sparring with us.” He said with a small smile, patting the railing once.
Adha’s lips twitched and Desmond knew that she wanted to tease him and ask if this was his roundabout way of saying that he was willing to spar with them.
Unfortunately, she was pretending to be a docile responsible apprentice right now who wouldn’t stain her mentor’s reputation by speaking so casually.
Desmond thought it wasn’t worth doing considering he himself had nurtured a more equal relationship with everyone in Alamut.
But he’d let her do what she wanted because of how earnest and determined she looked.
Desmond patted the railing with his right hand as he asked, “Adha, you have free time right now, right?”
“Yes, sir.” Adha answered as she placed both of her hands in front of her, intertwining her fingers.
“Good. I finally have some free time myself.” Desmond nodded, unable to stop himself from feeling awkward over the respect Adha was giving him.
He knew it was because of the Assassins from Masyaf that were with them right now but Desmond would have preferred it if Adha would just tease him about being lonely like she usually did whenever he visited her.
It was a running joke of theirs whenever Desmond asked if she was free for additional lessons.
Desmond always visited her and trained her for an hour even with his busy schedule although, at this point, there was little Desmond could still teach her.
What she needed was field experience.
“How about we have a little lesson while I’m waiting for my dear Altaïr to get away from his scholarly friends?” Desmond suggested, deliberately poking Adha.
Adha’s lip twitched once more but she only said, “Of course, sir.”
She walked towards him as she asked, “What lesson would we be having?”
Desmond’s smile turned to a grin as he replied, “History.”
Ah.
Knowing Adha couldn’t tease him right now and knowing Adha was always bored of their history lessons.
It was the most fun Desmond had in weeks.
It wasn’t that Desmond’s history lessons were bad.
It was just…
They were boring.
Desmond knew that she knew most of them already but he still insisted of teaching them anyway. Sure, there were times when he would say something that Adha had forgotten or never heard before. Desmond could say with certainty that those times were a rarity. It was because Adha tried to remember everything but human brain just didn’t work like that. Even if Adha didn’t do it on purpose, her brain would still push aside any information she instinctively deemed unimportant to her situation when she first heard it.
Not to mention, Desmond tended to go on and on about one topic once he see Adha’s eyes glazing over only to say something ridiculous like how a general had died shitting himself to death during an important battle. He found joy in not telling Adha if he was joking or not once Adha asked him to clarify such wild claims.
Desmond also never answered her because this was his punishment. Adha had to go to the scholar’s tower if she needed answers and the scholars there were… too accommodating.
They didn’t look at her with lust in their eyes but, instead, they acted like bumbling uncles or cousins with specific interests who try too hard to help her. Everyone in Alamut knew it was because she was Desmond’s first and (currently) only apprentice and they loved him like some kind of son who brought forth fortune and luck.
Not to mention, a lot of scholars were giddy little gossipers so, sooner or later, Desmond would learn that Adha had another tiring (but informative!) visit. It was because of how they acted and because whenever anyone asked for clarification, someone who actually studied that kind of topic would give more than the person asked for. The problem was that scholars tend to ramble on about anything connected to the question, instead of just answering the question immediately.
It wasn’t all of them but majority of them had the same habit. Desmond wasn’t entirely sure if it was just their nature or if being around so many intellectuals who do the same thing pushed them to adapting the same way of answering questions.
Desmond was proud enough to know that the only actual thing Adha actually liked when he taught her history was his ideas of what ifs.
He didn’t always do it and he knew that she had wondered why they were even focusing on what ifs when the past couldn’t be changed but it always led to interesting discussions of how people think and what would change people’s minds.
Now that she was near the end of her training, Desmond was sure she appreciated their conversations more and more. He learned from Oded’s reports that he had started to give them hypothetical scenarios for missions and asking them how they would act. He added how Adha had been one of the best at this kind of lesson and Desmond couldn’t help but grin, knowing that their discussions about how people react helped her give possible guesses on how to proceed with these missions.
Of course, Oded did say that discussions were only the first step in his reports. The main reason why novices were sent to different strongholds during their first year was for them to put these theories into practice in a safer environment than simply placing them in a random city that the Brotherhood was looking after.
And just when Desmond knew that his apprentice had readied herself for having to listen to a lesson she probably already knew, he appeared.
“Oh, Altaïr! Have you finished talking to everyone?”
Desmond was sure it was amusing to see how he walked just a little bit faster once he saw Altaïr walking out the scholar’s tower.
“We decided to take a break.” Altaïr informed him just as Adha managed to catch up to them.
Her eyes immediately went straight their hands where Desmond’s fingers were lightly touching the back of Altaïr’s fingers.
Adha rolled her eyes, not really understanding why they would even try to tone it down. Everyone knew they were madly in love so no one would even bat an eye if they were to hold hands.
Desmond could hear her say that with that movement alone and he was going to ignore her judgmental eyeroll like the adult that he was.
“A break?” Desmond blinked before asking with a small smile, “Did a fight almost break out again?”
“Almost.” Altaïr confirmed with a nod, “There was a heated discussion over Rashid’s portrayal in my book.”
“Oh.” Desmond said, unable to hide the relief in his voice. He had been worried that they were arguing over him.
He was sure everyone had already heard from the recruits who had the duties of cleaning their floor while the scholars were having their ‘discussions’ that Altaïr’s book was surprisingly tame.
He knew it was because they hadn’t really done anything scandalous until Altaïr joined them here in Alamut but everyone probably assumed Altaïr was just keeping it private.
And they were certainly making up for those years they were apart.
“Are you going somewhere with Adha?” Altaïr asked with a slight tilt of his head, his eyes meeting Adha’s for a moment.
She sighed tiredly while Desmond answered, “Yup. You should join us.”
Altaïr’s face immediately softened as he replied without any hesitation at all, “Of course.”
Oh great.
A boring lesson with the two of them making eyes with each other the entire time.
Desmond was sure Adha wished she was in charge of cleaning the walls today.
Ah.
It really said something that he could understand what his apprentice was thinking about without her saying anything at all.
“You’re a liar and I hope you bite your tongue twice this week.”
Desmond laughed.
Such wonderful praise coming from his beloved apprentice.
“I don’t see what you’re mad about.” Desmond lightly lied, placing a hand on a supposed wall, “We are learning about ‘history’ right now.”
The wall lit with glowing lines the same color as the Apple before the wall slid open.
“This sounds more like exploration and free labor than an actual lessons.” Adha dryly countered and Desmond just laughed because…
She was absolutely correct.
All three of them were using the Eagle Vision to look around although they did bring torches in case they get tired of keeping it active for too long.
Adha still had to turn it off and rest her eyes for a bit before turning it on again. During that time, she’d grab the back of Desmond’s robes and Desmond would talk about what he knew about Minerva and her kind.
Not that he knew much.
It was easier to tell Adha the truth about the future in the dark.
He didn’t exactly tell Adha what his play was in the last remaining plan Minerva had but he believed she had an idea of what it was.
He’d wait for her to tell him what she believed Desmond’s part in Minerva’s plan had been.
Although…
She probably already knew.
Once she could activate her Sight once more, they’d continue to walk what remained of the facility underneath Alamut.
A lot had already been destroyed and all that was left was rubble and dust although Desmond could smell the faint scent of sulfur around some of the collapsed rubble.
Desmond managed to take out enough of the rubble to see what laid beyond.
More rubble.
And the remains of metal and chains.
What laid beyond must have been the prison cells.
The smell of sulfur was strange though.
Some of the rubble was charred as well.
Someone had used explosives to destroy that part of the prison.
Desmond had a feeling it might have been a Hidden One before them. Minerva would have not resorted to explosives to destroy anything and the Brotherhood never used explosives before Khalid began experimenting on them.
But why?
Was this something Desmond should look into?
For all he knew, this could have happened when the Hidden Ones who refused to be part of the Brotherhood destroyed as many records as they could. Maybe they had used this prison as some sort of archive before.
“Oh. Is this what we’re looking for?”
Desmond turned to look away from the rubble just in time to see Adha place a foot on a large piece of debris with a…
… dirt-covered scimitar sticking out.
Adha placed both hands on the handle and pulled as hard as she could. The moment her hands touch the handle, the scimitar’s blade began to give a blue shimmer and Desmond knew that this was the sword that Minerva talked about.
It held the same shimmer as the dagger Minerva gave him.
Desmond swore he heard a ‘pop!’ sound just as Adha pulled the scimitar out of the debris.
They watched as the debris split in half and Desmond had to question the physics behind that one.
Could the sword itself have some kind of function that keeps things in place? Like some kind of light magnetism or something similar.
It was, after all, a weapon made by Minerva’s kind.
Adha looked at the scimitar and made a few quick practice swings. Blue and gold dust appeared as it moved and Desmond tried to catch some of them. They immediately disappeared in his hands.
A hologram of some kind maybe?
Or should Desmond assume it was more sci-fi than he expected and be something like nanomachines or something.
Wait.
He shouldn’t be able to see nanomachines, right?
Would Minerva really give her descendant a sword that has nanomachines in it?
Was nanotechnology a thing for her kin?
Desmond absolutely didn’t know. His hand didn’t feel any different.
“I don’t like this.”
Desmond blinked, lowering his hand as he watched as Adha twirled the sword in her hand effortlessly, “Is it too heavy?”
“The weight’s perfect.” She answered, letting the sword slid out of her grasp before pushing it up so she could balance it on the palm of her hand, “I’m no expert but even I can see that this is probably the most perfect weapon I’ve ever held in my hand.”
She lightly threw the sword by flicking her hand upward and Desmond instinctively caught it.
“Too perfect then?” Desmond asked as he did a couple of practice swings as well.
Adha was right.
It had the perfect weight even in his hand.
And sometimes, that was a bad thing.
Adha was used to using weapons that were heavier than normal.
There was really no real reasons for it. She just preferred heavier weapons.
Oded once told him that he guessed it was her way of reminding herself that this was reality but no one could truly know why she wanted a heavier weapon.
Desmond couldn’t be entirely sure. Knowing Adha, Desmond believed it would be something as simple as the fact that her father taught her how to wield heavy weapons and she’d just been used to them.
“It’s too gaudy.” Adha dryly corrected, making Desmond blink. He turned to stare at her and she raised an eyebrow, “What? That blue shimmer will be a distraction, sure, but it would also be a way to find me easily.”
…
Desmond turned to stare at Altaïr who had been eyeing the sword the entire time. Altaïr raised his head and stared at Desmond as he nodded, “It’s too distinct. Even the most foolish guard would remember her if she was to use it in the field.”
“I don’t need a weapon I can’t use.” Adha said dismissively, waving as she suggested, “You have it, Desmond.”
“Minerva left this for you.” Desmond insisted.
“Oh? Now you’re concerned about the wishes of the dead?” Adha teased before waving her hand once more, “Okay then. I received it and I am now giving it to you as a gift. Consider this your apprentice’s first and only gift.”
“First and only…” Desmond repeated as he shook his head, unable to keep the fondness from his voice, “As your mentor, it would be rude of me to accept such a priceless gift.”
Adha narrowed her eyes in annoyance and Desmond grinned as he said, “But as your ex-betrothed, I’ll take this as payment for the cancellation of our engagement.”
“How shameless of you, considering you’re the one who canceled our engagement before it even started.” Adha rolled her eyes as she continued, “Sure, if you want to play it that way, go ahead.”
“Should I also receive something for the cancellation of our betrothal?” Altaïr asked curiously as Desmond offered the sword to him to check.
He didn’t need to say anything, Desmond knew that he was curious on what this ‘perfect’ weight was supposed to be.
“I feel like I should be compensated since it was Rashid being a dick that canceled our betrothal.” Adha commented as she crossed her arms. From the slight furrowing of brows, Desmond knew Adha was thinking of what to give Altaïr since she probably felt bad giving Desmond a gift but not Altaïr.
Especially since Altaïr came to help them without complaining at all.
The moment Altaïr grabbed the handle of the scimitar, the shimmering disappeared.
They all stared at the blade.
It looked like normal steel.
Altaïr looked at the scimitar in his hand before he looked up at Desmond as he quickly said, “I’ll fix it.”
Desmond’s lips curled into a big smile when he saw the worry and confusion warring on Altaïr’s face. He stepped forward and placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing the dirt off with his thumb as he said, “It’s fine, Altaïr. I don’t think you actually broke it.”
Desmond dropped his hand before he moved it to cover Altaïr’s hand and the scimitar’s blue shimmer returned. He let go and it continued to shimmer for a few seconds before returning to looking like a normal sword.
“Huh.” Adha let out.
“Perhaps it will only give such a glow when it’s touched by someone with specific genetic makeup.” Altaïr guessed and Desmond blinked, wondering if his journals concerning the future were enough for Altaïr to understand what ‘genetic makeup’ meant.
Seeing Adha’s brows furrowed even more, Desmond was going to assume it wasn’t a phrase people usually heard around this time.
“You mean that people with certain bloodlines are able to make it shine, right? I think that would be a safe assumption to make at the moment.” Desmond agreed with a nod. Desmond turned to look at Adha as he asked, “This sword is mine now, right?”
“Yes?” Adha answered in a questioning manner, wondering why Desmond was asking such an obvious question.
Desmond nodded at her before turning to face Altaïr. He placed his other hand over Altaïr’s hand and said, “You should use this, Altaïr.”
Altaïr froze for a brief moment before he said, “I can’t do that, Desmond. Adha gave this to you.”
“And we’re pretty much married at this point.” Desmond’s cheeks warmed as he admitted such a thing.
God.
Just because he himself had accepted how Altaïr was pretty much his consort at this point didn’t make it less embarrassing.
Considering how Adha had taken a step back, Desmond was sure his dear apprentice was suffering from second-hand embarrassment by now but he just ignored her plight like the good teacher that he was.
“So what’s mine is yours.” Desmond said with a smile, “Also…”
He squeezed Altaïr’s hands as he said, “I want you to feel the weight of this sword and be reminded that your home is here.”
“In Alamut.” Desmond pressed his forehead against Altaïr’s as he whispered, “… with me.”
Altaïr stared at Desmond for a moment before he pulled the sword towards him silently. Desmond let go of his hands and watched as Altaïr unclipped his own sword still resting in its scabbard from his belt and replaced it with the scimitar.
“Altaïr…” Desmond called out quietly, having a sense of what Altaïr was about to do. The words ‘you don’t have to do this’ never even left his lips, too stunned by the simple fact that Altaïr had dropped to one knee in front of him.
He offered his sword to Desmond as he said, “What’s mine is yours as well, Desmond.”
“But this sword…” Desmond didn’t have the heart to say it out loud.
Altaïr had told him during one of their nights together that the sword had been the first and only commission that his late mother had requested from the blacksmith in Masyaf. A present she prepared for her unborn child growing inside her.
About how the eagle pommel and winged crossguard being the only things she didn’t want to be changed even when the blacksmith suggested a nicer design that would make the sword easier to wield.
About how she had wanted to name him Altaïr because she believed that she would have a son.
About how his father had told him those stories as he showed him the sword when he was young, his usually emotionless expression breaking into one of love and grief.
About how his father’s last words to him had been an apology for not being able to give the sword to him when he was older.
Desmond placed a hand on the sword and grabbed it gently. He lifted it off Altaïr’s hands and his heart skipped a beat.
For a brief moment, he wasn’t underneath his home.
He was underneath his old home.
In the sanctuary…
Holding the same sword as he stared at Altaïr’s statue, wondering if the legendary mentor of old had ever had the same doubt as he and Ezio did about what they were supposed to do now.
It was a little lighter than what he was used to. The sheath had the same marks and scratches from incidents long ago.
He held the sword close, feeling the eagle pommel pressed against his cheek as he smiled at Altaïr, “I…”
“I’ll hold on to this.” Desmond grinned at him as he said, “That way, you’d always have to stay close to make sure I’m taking good care of it.”
Altaïr stood and placed his hands on Desmond’s waist, pressing their foreheads together once more as he whispered, “Then I better stay as close as possible.”
“You better.” Desmond whispered back as their noses touch.
Just as their lips met, they heard an annoyed resign sigh from the other side of the room.
It was a night much colder than usual.
It had snowed all day and only stopped when the moon was already high in the sky.
Desmond had spent the better half of his day changing the patrols to include more breaks and shorter time for every Assassin. He even went as far as to have them check the people in town to ask if they need wood for their fire and to make sure all houses would have fires burning inside to keep them warm even if it meant waking everyone up.
By the time Desmond returned to their room, it was already too late for him to join his family for dinner but Altaïr was still with Faheem and Kadar having dinner.
He himself had gotten something to eat while working on the last documents that he needed to approve before retiring for the night.
His little helpers (scholars actually older than him) stayed with him and even ate while working with him.
They would absolutely be getting a year-end bonus (which Desmond had to change to ‘winter-end bonus’) higher than what their contract stated for exemplary work.
Honestly, if it wasn’t for them, he would have been knee deep in documents and proposals until the sun rose.
Or…
Until night gave way to rain or snow or fog.
He already got reports from the Assassins they sent to check nearby. It took them a while to return and Desmond was okay with that. It meant that they were being careful in their travels.
The strange weather phenomenon extended far beyond Alamut so it wasn’t some weird ‘shit that only happens where Desmond is’.
But there was still the possibility…
It was possible that it was some kind of ancient device with a wider range than Desmond was comfortable with.
All Desmond could hope for was that one of the scholars researching the weather conditions would find an actual, believable scientific explanation.
Desmond watched the fire crackle from the firepit in the center of the room. It wasn’t anything grand. Like everything else in the mentor’s tower, it was simple and functional. From what Desmond saw when he first toured the tower, only this floor had a firepit at the center of the room, with the smoke reaching upward towards a hole that would travel to the edges of the floor. It wouldn’t harm the birds staying in the aviary above them but it also meant the rest of the tower was left to the cold.
Desmond knew that his father would be staying in the harem, he saw him leaving the aviary after he had created a fire to keep the aviary warm for the rest of the night before Desmond was pulled back to his office to keep working.
They didn’t really talk all that much, both of them telling the other to keep warm tonight before saying good night.
The harem would be warmer and Desmond was sure that there was a fire pit in their room.
The other people staying in the mentor’s tower, Faheem and Kadar, would retire to their rooms in the palace where it would be warmer after dinner so… Desmond and Altaïr would be all alone in this tower for tonight.
Now that Desmond thought about it, he was sure that the castle didn’t have any real grand ‘remodeling’ from when it was first built by the Hidden Ones. This meant that the firepits were most likely in the original design of the castle.
Did they expected such cold weather?
Desmond would probably never know considering historical records of the Hidden Ones were harder to come by than Rashid bowing down to them and confessing to all his wrong doings.
The fire was already keeping the room warm by the time Desmond got inside. Altaïr must have left it burning before leaving for dinner.
It would be easy to think that Altaïr did it so he wouldn’t come home to a cold room but, considering how Desmond knew the rooms in Masyaf didn’t have any way to keep a fire going without endangering the entire fortress and that, in the coldest of nights, they usually slept in the dining hall together where it was warm, Desmond knew Altaïr enough to know that he made the fire because he didn’t want Desmond to come home to a cold room.
He even went as far as move things around so nothing was close to the fire.
It was still a danger but Altaïr was sure that it would be okay.
Desmond filled a teapot with herbal tea that setti had prepared herself and placed it on the fire before getting two cups.
He saw the wood that Altaïr had been using to carve Aquila (and the eagle had tried to puff up while posing for Altaïr, only for Altaïr to tell him that he needed to look ‘normal’). He was still trying to get the general shape of Aquila while he had his wings spread out and Desmond was happy that Altaïr had a hobby that he enjoyed. The fact that it was a hobby he wasn’t an instant master of was a good thing too.
He wanted Altaïr to experience the ups and downs of having a hobby. To feel the kind of happiness that only springs after working hard.
Before long, the tea was boiling and Desmond took it out and filled his cup. He knew that it would taste better if he was to boil the water then add the tea leaves but he thought that was too troublesome.
That was how tired he was.
He looked around.
Well…
He wasn’t too tired to do something actually ‘productive’.
Was it a coincidence that the strange weather phenomenon plaguing Alamut stopped on the first day of the first month of 1191?
Desmond was sure there was some kind of significance to it but he had no time to think about that.
He was too busy taking care of the consequences brought by the strange weather pattern.
The start of 1191 was heralded by a severe thunderstorm in Jerusalem. Kasim had been advised by the temporary Rafiq to seek shelter in a secure location as they predicted that the storm would last for two more days.
Kasim picked one of the small houses near the temple mount that served as an emergency safehouse for the Brotherhood, more as a way to keep an eye if anyone was going in and out of the temple mount or underneath it.
This house wouldn’t have a view of it, especially with the weather but it would give Kasim an idea of anyone walking to that general direction.
That was the best he could do at the moment.
To be honest, pretending to be an informant in Jerusalem had been easier than he expected. They were, after all, in need of more help especially after the poisoning incident.
There were a lot of rumors concerning Rashid’s lack of action as well that sparked quite a lot of debate among the remaining Assassins stationed here and their informants.
Many Assassins believe that Rashid was being blocked from acting by Alamut who was trying to take the Jerusalem bureau from Masyaf.
Kasim considered himself lucky that many informants were more neutral than he expected. Many of them had nothing but good things to say about Rashid but, in the same vein, they also talked about how stupid it would be for Alamut to even consider taking Jerusalem.
Kasim would agree.
On a geopolitical level, Jerusalem was so far from Alamut that it would create a lot of trouble just trying to create a secure route between Jerusalem and Alamut.
On a more personal level, Kasim just couldn’t see Desmond actually trying to take over Jerusalem, or Masyaf for that matter.
While Kasim could count the number of times he talked to Desmond on one hand, the projects and procedures he had put in place both when he was simply assisting his father and after he became the acting mentor would point to one path he wished for the Brotherhood to take.
Self-sustainability while hiding in the shadows.
Maybe the rumors were true that Desmond was a descendant of the Hidden Ones, appearing before Alamut to return the Brotherhood back to the shadows where they should have been from the start.
Or…
Desmond didn’t want to deal with all the politics that come with being a ruler of a well-known, powerful force.
Honestly, Kasim was leaning more toward the latter.
Giving up the title of imam to his younger brother felt less like wishing to not muddy the line of succession and more like he didn’t want to be part of all that.
Kasim pressed his head against the window, watching the heavy rain obscuring most of the road.
He hoped Alamut had better weather than this. The last time Alamut had such heavy thunderstorm was probably four years ago.
He remembered that a few of the Assassins were sent out to help a nearby village that was suffering from flooding due to the never ending storm. His father had been one of them.
And Desmond.
That was the first time they shared a mission together and Desmond had joined even when people told him not to. Floods were unpredictable and they were endangering their future mentor.
But Desmond had silenced them by reminding them they had no time to argue with one another and left with the team.
Kasim only heard what happened afterwards when he next met his father.
His father had been impressed by Desmond. It had been the reason why he supported Desmond’s claim to being the next mentor.
With Kasim’s report, his father had agreed that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad wasn’t a danger to Alamut or to Desmond’s future as their mentor.
That meant it was probably time for him to return to the real reason why he joined the faction that didn’t want Desmond as the mentor.
Kasim supposed it wouldn’t be long before his father started to remove the more dangerous of them, whether through incidents that would lead them to retiring or being sent to more remote stronghold, Kasim was sure his father would do what he must.
After all…
It was Desmond’s father who ordered Kasim’s father to infiltrate that faction.
Kasim jumped to his feet.
The storm mostly muffled the sound but Kasim was sure he heard some kind of wood breaking.
Like a wall or a door.
He quickly wore a cloak over his informant robes and sneaked out of the house using the window on the roof, activating his Eagle Vision to look around.
Two houses to his left…
There were two figures giving off a white glow.
Kasim made his way towards them as swiftly and quietly as he could, the darkness and noise of the thunderstorm giving him aid in muffling the sounds he made and making the path difficult in equal measures.
He reached the house and quickly hid behind the boxes.
He was sure this house had been a simple one but, right now, it was filled with boxes.
Supplies.
Someone must have delivered them under the cover of this thunderstorm and used a different road.
Kasim would have to check all the other houses nearby to be sure he wouldn’t miss anything else.
He came just in time to see one of the figures strike the other with such a powerful display of martial prowess that their opponent’s sword flew out of their hand, clattering to the floor and sliding away from them.
The figure wearing the garb of a crusader knight kicked their opponent in the stomach, forcing their unarmed opponent on their knees as they gasped for breath.
Their opponent was wearing the clothes of a Christian priest, now stained with the blood dripping from his wounded right arm.
“Robert de Sablé thinks everything will fall into his lap if we’re all dead?” The priest gritted as he glared at the knight, “You lick the boots of a scum that- Argh!”
“Silence.” The knight ordered in a calm even tone.
He screamed in pure agony as the knight stabbed his abdomen. The knight pulled the sword out and pressed a foot against the open wound and their helmet muffled their voice as they said, “We are doing what must be done to cleanse the Order of filth like you.”
The priest simply laughed as he turned his head to the side slightly, blood dripping out of his mouth as he gave the knight a defiant pained smile, “One day, he will betray you too. He’ll use you until there’s nothing left and push you off the cliff, drag your name and honor to the gro-”
The knight silently slammed their sword down straight through the priest’s head with enough force that Kasim heard the floor crack. The knight sliced off the priest’s head, a quick flash followed by the loud booming of thunder muffled the sound of the head rolling away from its still bleeding body.
“Show yourself, Assassin.” The knight ordered and Kasim narrowed his eyes.
How did they know…
Before Kasim could stand, a figure wearing the robes of a Master Assassin dropped to the floor.
Kasim didn’t even notice him. How did the knight…
That flash.
If the Assassin had been hiding by the rafters or the roof itself, he must have casted a shadow when that lightning struck.
“You were with Alamut’s future mentor in Tyre.” The knight stated.
Kasim heard of that mission from his father as part of his mission briefing to accompany and keep an eye on Altaïr.
So this was Faheem Al-Sayf’s oldest son.
Kadar looked more like their father so he supposed Malik Al-Sayf looked more like their late mother.
“Drench your feather and claim this as your own if you wish.” The knight used a white piece of fabric to clean the blood of their sword before sheathing it, “But if it my blood your feather yearns for then you will not live to see the sun.”
“I’m merely investigating the people connected to the Basilisk. I have not received any orders for your head.” Malik said, staring at the head just a few inches away from his foot. He stepped to the side to evade the growing pool of blood as he suggested, “I will take care of the body. We never saw each other.”
“As much as I abhor to join hands with an Assassin, my master does believe your master would be more amicable to having a polite conversation than that old man stuck in his little mountain.” The knight’s helmet did not muffle the disdain in their voice, “Do what you wish, Assassin.”
Kasim continued to keep quiet even after the knight had left. He was sure that Malik Al-Sayf remained loyal to Masyaf and Rashid. The knight’s misunderstanding must have came from the fact that Desmond ordered Malik to join him in the mission.
Kasim was an outsider and he’d preferred to continue to be one.
“Would you care to help me, brother?”
Kasim sighed.
He expected Malik to have realized he was there. After all, he wasn’t hidden from anyone watching from above. He stood and nodded as he asked, “How may I be of service, brother?”
With that single sentence, Kasim answered Malik’s real question.
‘Are you just an informant or an Assassin?’
“Alamut has explosives, do they not?” Malik asked, “I remember hearing that Altaïr used one in Tyre.”
“I do.” Kasim nodded. Desmond had given him five before he left and they were to be used as he saw fit.
He truly wondered if Desmond believed in him too easily because of how close he had become with Altaïr.
He assumed Desmond was annoyed with him for inserting himself to every single time he met Altaïr back then.
Perhaps it was both.
“Please use that.” Malik looked at the beheaded corpse as he said, “We’ll time it with one of the thunder strike.”
“I see…” Kasim nodded, “Understood.”
The fact that they were going to destroy crusader supplies was also going to be a boon to them.
“And…” Malik turned to look at Kasim as he said, “Tell Desmond that I have letters from the Basilisk’s allies that talk about Rashid being a Templar.”
Kasim stared at Malik for a moment before he said, “I did not know that you were working for Desmond.”
“I’m not.” Malik corrected, “I was looking for the truth.”
Malik clenched his fists as he said, “And this is where it led me.”
Notes:
Okay… so the sword here is based on the DLC Prince of Persia sword you get in Mirage (to complete the dagger and hourglass Desmond received). This also takes over Adha’s Sword that she gives to Altaïr in Altaïr’s Chronicles.
Altaïr becoming its master is a reference to how in AC1, the strongest sword isn’t the Sword of Altaïr but actually a scimitar you get once you ranked up (also it’s a reference to Adha giving her sword to him in Altaïr’s Chronicles) XD
As usual, this is the last chapter for this year. I’ll see you guys next year, January 11!
Desmond's Death Day Megaposting is a late because my friend and I really got into Balatro an hour before I should have started posting. Sorry OTL
The other fics published to celebrate Desmond's death day are:
- Extra smut for Eagle of Alamut
- Dragon Altaïr x Desmond oneshot where I cram as many rofan tropes as I can
- One shot smut of Desmond with Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton
Chapter 98
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The strange weather pattern might have ended at the start of the new year but it wasn’t the end of Desmond’s problems.
The surrounding areas needed help. The most urgent ones were the villages near the river.
Their only saving grace was that the strange weather phenomenon also froze parts of the river but that was only a momentary grace.
Once the ice thawed…
“Flooding is our greatest concern.” The Assassin who was assigned to check on the villages near the river reported as he stood behind Desmond and Altaïr with his arms crossed.
Desmond sat by the edge of the cliff overlooking the river below with a frown.
He read the reports and he expected this level of danger. They, fortunately, had time until the ice thawed.
But it was still concerning.
“I’ve talked about it with father.” Desmond stepped back from the cliff but kept an eye on the river, “We’ll request that every village evacuate and stay in the ruins near the castle.”
“The ruins?” The Assassin mulled over the plan for a moment before nodding, “I think the ruins could accommodate everyone from all the villages I went to. The problem would be the supplies and if they would be willing to stay in the ruins until the river calms down.”
“We can’t wait for the water to calm down naturally.” Desmond shook his head as he finally turned to the Assassin, “I have our scholars looking for ways to ‘calm’ the river as soon as possible.”
Well…
Desmond glanced at Altaïr who nodded slightly.
He and Altaïr talked about what little Desmond could remember about how his time took care of floods. It wasn’t detailed at all, to be completely honest. The Farm didn’t bother to teach anything connected to it and his time in New York hadn’t helped in any way to make him curious about the infrastructure of flood risk locations.
But he did try to explain to Altaïr what he remembered, however small it was, and Altaïr presented it to the scholars he believed would be interested in creating a plan to fix the river before any incident occurred.
It was up to the scholars to make a plan that they could pull off with the resources and knowledge they had.
Desmond also knew that it wasn’t just the possibility of a flood that they should be worried about.
With the power of the river’s movements, they also risked the possibility that the land on either side would give way. That could lead to the land underneath the houses losing its integrity and causing an accident.
This had the highest chance of happening once the ice had thawed.
“For now, we’ll bring carts to help the villagers travel. Tell them that they can only bring what they can carry. If they want to bring more than they can carry, they’d have to use their own carts and horses.” Desmond said as he walked away from the cliff with Altaïr following him closely.
“What about those who say that they won’t leave?” The Assassin asked and Desmond could already hear the tiredness in his tone.
It seemed they all knew that there would be those stubborn enough to risk their lives to stay.
“It’s fine. Just stress that they would be risking their lives and…” Desmond paused for a moment before continuing, “Also remind them that people would first suspect them if they returned and something is missing from their homes.”
The Assassin sighed. It might seemed cruel but they understood that the pressure from the community could help to keep them safe.
“And also stress that there’s no plan to relocate them forever. Once the scholars have a plan in place, the villagers will work together to execute whatever plan the scholars have with our supervision.” Desmond continued, “This way, we’ll limit how many Assassins we’ll have to assign to this mission, while providing the villagers necessary knowledge to protect their homes.”
Desmond glanced back before adding, “This will also help in fostering cooperation and camaraderie among the villages since they’ll all be working together.”
“I see.” The Assassin nodded as he thought about Desmond’s plan before asking, “So they’ll just remain in the ruins until the scholars finalize the plan?”
“Yes. If they’re worried about where they’ll sleep, tell them that the ruins had been cleaned up and they’ll be staying in the buildings.” Desmond added.
Altaïr and the others who had to stay in the ruins had gone overboard and actually fixed a lot in the ruins. It would be enough to provide shelter for the villagers and Desmond planned to hire those who wanted to get extra money to fix the rest of the ruins.
Voluntarily, of course.
“We’ll give them food for free. Three meals a day per person. We still have enough supplies to last us about three years so we can take the hit.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, “We’ll replenish our supplies as soon as we can…”
As long as the price wasn’t too high.
He knew prices around these parts would be high at the moment because of the weather they’d had during winter.
Worst case scenario, he might have to order a team to pose as merchants and buy supplies far enough from them that the prices of the supplies and the expenses they would incur during their travel would be within their budget for this year.
The problem was that Desmond wasn’t even sure if that was possible but he was going to try anyway.
Desmond had no plan to keep their supplies below the agreed upon amount. That was just courting trouble and he didn’t want to gamble the lives of his people.
“For now… please keep an eye on the river and the villages.” Desmond ordered, “Make sure they’re ready to leave as soon as possible and check for any camps nearby.”
“Do you think a spy would try to slip into the ruins after we transport them?” The Assassin asked with a frown.
“A spy would be easy to find. We’ll ask three separate villagers per village if they don’t recognize any of the people in the area we provide for them.” Desmond explained with a shrug, “Unless the spy can see into the future and pay off the three random villagers we’ll pick that day, they’ll be found and dealt with.”
Desmond turned slightly so he could see the land beneath the cliff, “A bigger concern would be bandits and anyone else thinking of ransacking the villages after they’ve evacuated. They’ll probably appear a few days after you’ve announced to the villages that we’re going to evacuate them.”
“I see.” The Assassin nodded as he said, “I’ll keep that in mind during my patrols then.”
“Be sure to include any high grounds that has a view of even a single village.” Altaïr finally spoke as he looked around, “They’d have to make fire to survive so check for smoke or soot and ashes on the ground.”
The Assassin blinked. Not that Desmond was surprised. Altaïr was silent the entire time they looked around.
It was a habit Altaïr had whenever he was following someone of higher ranking.
That ‘someone’ being Desmond made it a little bit embarrassing though.
The Assassin nodded once more as he said, “Understood, Altaïr. I’ll keep that in mind as well.”
“We should return to the village before the sun sets.” Desmond said, remembering the last village they visited before coming to this cliff to have a better view of the river. He waved a hand as he corrected, “Actually, you return first. Altaïr and I will hunt something that we’ll share with the village.”
The Assassin frowned as he reminded Desmond, “A lot of the animals around here are currently hiding because of the cold weather.”
“But not all.” Desmond added with a grin. He waved his hand as he said, “Just tell the villagers that we’ll all eat tonight and get a cart.”
“How many do you plan to hunt?”
“Enough for dinner and a bit more to give to them and the other villagers before we return to Alamut.” Desmond answered with a grin.
The Assassin sighed before commenting, “Well, that’s one way to make them more amicable to our plans, I suppose.”
That wasn’t Desmond’s plan. He just wanted to give food to the people. He knew how harsh the past months had been and, to be completely honest, he still had doubts that the weather had been ‘natural’ even though Khalid did find a reference to something similar happening a while back.
By a ‘while back’, he meant during the construction of the castle…
So yeah. There was definitely a bit of guilt that was influencing his actions.
But he wasn’t going to say that. Better people think he actually planned everything this thoroughly and had the guile to be that conniving.
Probably.
Desmond wasn’t going to overthink this entire thing.
“Come get us once the sun’s about to set, alright?” Desmond requested. That should be enough time for them to bag a few animals for dinner. It wasn’t like they were planning to hunt a lot anyway.
Some of the villages were far enough that the meat would probably spoil if they traveled without doing something to preserve it first.
They’d hunt along the way for the other villages.
“Got it. I’ll see you two later.”
“Yup.” Desmond waved as they watched the Assassin walk towards the horses.
Altaïr remained quiet until the Assassin was long gone before he asked, “Do you think he’s a spy?”
“We can’t risk it.” Desmond answered with a sigh, “We finally cleaned house, after all.”
“What will we tell him if he asks why we’re asking five people and not three to check for spies later?” Altaïr tilted his head.
“We talked about this and figured it was better safe than sorry. It just covers more ground to ask an elderly man, an elderly woman, a man, a woman, and a child.” Desmond noted.
Altaïr stared at him for a moment before he noted, “So you don’t count it as an outright lie because you didn’t specify that we talked about the plan before we left home.”
“Lie by omission.” Desmond grinned, “It’s just another kind of fae lie.”
Altaïr’s lips curved into a fond smile as he agreed, “Of course.”
“Now, come on.” Desmond patted Altaïr’s back, “Let’s go catch our dinner.”
By the time they returned to Alamut, Desmond was pretty sure Aquila had gained weight. He was more enthusiastic in helping them hunt and Desmond didn’t have the heart to stop him from eating as much as he wanted.
The strange weather last year made it impossible for Aquila and the other eagles to hunt. There had been many times his father had to rush to the aviary to calm down the eagles stuck there because of one reason or another.
The most common reason was that some of them got into a fight because they were trying to fly around and bumped into another eagle or something in the aviary like a beam.
Desmond wasn’t sure if they were getting cabin fever or they were just stretching their wings and bumping into things because of how different it was flying indoors.
Bennu was lucky. He had the harem all to himself and the people working there were used to him flying low enough that they could step to the side so they wouldn’t get in his way.
Desmond was pretty sure the old man enjoyed being bowed to as well.
Aquila and Maud weren’t as lucky.
Maud had tried to stay in the aviary for a few weeks but she sulkily stayed with them after a fight between the other eagles ended with her feathers being ruffled.
… literally.
Altaïr spent an hour or so just grooming her and she glared at both Desmond and Aquila as if they were planning to ridicule her.
Desmond had no plans for that. It was a shame he couldn’t record it though.
Aquila also didn’t have a death wish, especially since Maud looked ready to peck the next person to offend her until they had a near death experience.
Or, at the very least, that was the feeling Desmond got.
It was becoming easier to get a general idea of what Maud was feeling.
Altaïr was more confident that he could understand what Maud wanted or was trying to say with her facial expressions and pose, no matter how little the difference was from how she usually looked. Desmond saw this as a good thing. Similar to how he had a good grasp of what Aquila was feeling, Altaïr’s connection to Maud was probably just as strong as his.
Of course, even in this, Altaïr would be a quick learner.
Damn overachiever.
He was lucky Desmond loved him, otherwise Desmond would have felt a bit annoyed by how easy it was for Altaïr to master something that Desmond had to take the time to learn.
Not to mention, Aquila helped him by doing charades whenever they were having problems communicating.
Maud did not do such things. It was absolutely beneath her to cater to their comforts, after all.
To be fair, she seemed to take after Altaïr in that regard. Being aloof and quiet, letting people figure it out, or not truly caring if they didn’t.
It was cute.
Then again, Desmond was in love with Altaïr so, of course, he would see it as cute.
It also helped that Altaïr showed that he wasn’t able to master wood carving just as fast as he did with connecting to Maud.
Although…
Altaïr’s reason for being unable to finish his wood carving project was that, in his own words “the face isn’t right”.
Desmond was already dreading what face he meant. To be completely honest, Desmond had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what Altaïr was carving generally.
But he wouldn’t be able to hate it because Altaïr was carving it.
He considered it small mercies that Altaïr was carving in the empty room that was meant to be his room, the one right next to Desmond’s (and, at this point, Altaïr’s) room.
That was also the room that Maud stayed in so she could fly as much as she wanted even if it wasn’t exactly all that large.
Aquila also stayed in that room for a bit but something must have happened because Aquila no longer wanted to stay there at night.
The poor bird couldn’t stay in their room though, considering… their nightly activities.
So Aquila took possession of the room next to the wood carving room. They kept it open at all times and Aquila only stayed there during the night.
Most of the time, he stayed with Desmond, gripping his shoulder tightly as he was forced to stay still while Desmond walked to wherever he needed to go.
The two of them did try to fly during one of the foggy mornings but they got drenched by a sudden downpour and never tried it again.
So, really, Desmond couldn’t blame the two once they were allowed to go outside.
Maud immediately flew off somewhere. Altaïr would connect with her a few times every day just to make sure she was safe and, apparently, she was flying wherever she pleased.
Desmond wasn’t sure if she was planning the eagle equivalent of a ‘joy ride’ or if this was some kind of day trip for her.
Aquila, on the other hand, followed Desmond in the sky as usual.
When they left for Alamut, Aquila was more than enthusiastic in being tasked to scout ahead.
He definitely worked hard for this mission.
Desmond supposed he didn’t need to tell Aquila that he put on a bit of weight.
It wasn’t all that noticeable after all and it didn’t affect his balance or speed.
“Did Aquila get fat?”
Desmond stared at Rawiya as he let a recruit take his horse back to the stable. Aquila was sitting on the top of the small bag they’d filled with dry meat to bring back home.
Half of which would be part of Aquila’s stock.
Desmond narrowed his eyes for a brief moment and Rawiya blinked before he lied, “Oh, now that I think about it, I think he just looks fat because he’s sitting. Silly me.”
Desmond wanted to sigh.
Rawiya wasn’t a bad liar but he wasn’t exactly a flawless one either.
And from the way Aquila was staring at him without moving, the boy certainly knew that Rawiya was lying.
Altaïr looked at Desmond and saw him shake his head lightly. With that single gesture, Desmond knew that Altaïr got the message that he shouldn’t try to tell the truth right now.
Even if that truth was something like ‘you’re still you’ or ‘you still look cute’.
Aquila was probably not going to to like that and would only see it as pity.
They all watched as Aquila continued to stare at Rawiya as he used the talons of his right leg to cut the bag open. He lowered his head and took a bite of the dry meat inside, all the while staring at Rawiya.
Rawiya kept smiling at the glaring bird as he leaned towards Desmond to whisper, “I think he’s learning the wrong things from your husband.”
Desmond snorted and bumped his shoulder against his friend’s as he dryly said, “If anyone can be passive aggressive in our relationship, it’s gonna be me.”
Rawiya grinned at him as he teased, “See? This is why you lovebirds are so sickening. Just listening to you talk about your relationship is painful.”
Desmond rolled his eyes as he teased back, “I don’t want to hear that from someone who’s been pining for ten years.”
“Nine.” Rawiya corrected immediately. His tone turned dry as he admitted, “Nine and ten months.”
Desmond patted his back quietly while Aquila finally grew bored and turned to face Altaïr. He flapped his wings while remaining above his bag of dry meats as he let out a small trill. Altaïr crouched as he said, “Alright. Be sure to be back before the sun sets.”
Aquila let out another trill before flying towards the direction of the forest.
Rawiya glanced at Desmond who sighed, “Aquila knows he’ll get away with a lot more things if he asks Altaïr for permission.”
Rawiya grinned at him before turning to face Altaïr as he asked, “How does it feel to be the favorite parent?”
Altaïr took out a small needle with a thread already attached to it and sewed the small slit that Aquila made on the bag quickly as he replied, “I’ve never been happier.”
Rawiya turned to face Desmond once more.
Desmond knew that Rawiya was silently asking if Altaïr was joking or not since everyone in Alamut learned that Altaïr’s jokes were delivered in the same tone as how he usually spoke and he never bothered to explain if he was joking or not.
Unfortunately for Rawiya, Desmond wasn’t going to answer him.
He enjoyed seeing people be confused when Altaïr was clearly joking.
“Come on.” Desmond placed a hand on Altaïr’s shoulder as he leaned forward a bit, “Rawiya will take Aquila’s bag for us. Let’s get our bags and go home.”
Rawiya opened his mouth but stopped to think about it. Desmond never flaunted being the acting mentor so he knew immediately that he was being punished.
Considering he did call their child fat, he supposed it was a light punishment to carry said child’s food supply.
Altaïr nodded as he stood, “Alright. We should have enough time to take a bath before dinner too.”
“That’s true.” Desmond dropped his hand as he mused, “Man, I miss hot water.”
They grabbed the other bags next to Aquila’s as Altaïr asked, “Would it be better if we unpack first before taking a bath?”
Before Desmond could answer, they heard an Assassin stationed on top of the gates shout, “Visitor approaching!”
They all turned to face the road.
‘Visitor approaching’ was code for someone dressed as either a monk or an Assassin approaching Alamut on horseback.
Desmond reluctantly requested the recruits to take their bags to the tower. It was better for them to remain by the gates while the recruits returned to the castle where it was safe.
By the time the rider had reached them, Desmond, Altaïr and Rawiya were on top of the gates, blending with the rest of the Assassins stationed there.
“State your name and business!” Rawiya ordered as the highest ranking Assassin now that Desmond and Altaïr were pretending to be part of those in guard duty today.
“Hey, Rawiya.” The rider pulled his hood back and shouted, “Where the hell is my replacement, you assholes?!”
Desmond rushed towards the edge of the gates once he recognized the voice and was about to greet his friend.
Then he saw how he looked like and he immediately said, “You look weird with a beard.”
“Are we really talking about our looks right now? Fine then. I guess we’ll have to see if you’ll look good with Rashid begging by your feet.” Rahim snarked as he patted the bags behind him, “We found your ‘smoking gun’.”
Notes:
Just to be clear, the next chapter will be next next Monday, Jan 13, then we're back to our usual weekly Monday updates :)
Chapter 99
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
A smoking gun.
Desmond was going to be honest. He absolutely did not remember when he had ever used the term. For all he knew, he could have just been thinking out loud when they heard it. Desmond wouldn’t remember it personally because it wasn’t even a phrase that he would normally use.
Hell, for all he knew, he could have said it while they were recruits just fooling around during one of their breaks.
Rahim did use it correctly but…
What the team sent to Ḥalab brought back was more than just a smoking gun.
It was an entire armada.
“This is the most damning evidence we got.” Rahim said, unable to stop looking at Bennu as the bird stared intently at the journal he brought together with a few more documents they had decided were the ‘best ones’.
The journal held records of Harash’s missions as the Keeper. Everything was written like they were supposed to be reports.
No.
If Desmond was to guess, the man had copied every report he read in this journal.
Altaïr was taught to remember every word of any document he saw so he could write it down as accurately as possible once he was safe enough.
Desmond had always thought that Rashid was putting such unfair expectations on Altaïr’s shoulders. Even if Altaïr did learn such skills in the end, it was cruel of Rashid to even expect Altaïr to succeed in mastering it in the first place.
But skimming through the journals Rahim brought, Desmond realized that Rashid knew it could be done.
There was a reason why Harash was his Keeper and it wasn’t because the man was loyal.
They already saw how far Harash’s loyalty went last year.
No.
Harash’s skills as an Assassin were what gave him the title of Keeper.
It was truly a shame that he squandered such skills to be the poisonous rat of a false king.
But he was just as paranoid as his master and it showed in these journals.
Rahim informed them that he only brought the journals detailing the last five years.
And it told a very… suspicious story.
A lot of the copied reports were either from the crusaders’ side or from one of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s men.
There were a few reports and documents Harash had copied from their allies as well.
From these copies and Harash’s reports, it was clear that Rashid was ordering him to do certain tasks that wouldn’t benefit either side.
It was the missing ‘link’ needed to move the entire armada.
The piece they needed to connect the orders Rashid gave to his Assassins that the other teams they sent to the bureaus compiled.
One of the things they figured out that Desmond was unable to say out loud was Naplouse’s experiments. The Templars had kept it under wraps quite well, until it became clear that Harash had a hand in securing the ‘smuggle route’.
This also connected Talal’s slave trade to Naplouse, showing that there was an entire organization working for their own means, using both the crusaders and the people of this land to further their own agenda.
They still didn’t know what that agenda was nor what the experiments exactly entailed. But…
Desmond knew that his mothers remembered his report in Tyre because Bennu glanced at him while Rahim was explaining how they realized that Talal was smuggling people to Naplouse and keeping them hidden for some reason.
He expected they’d connect the dots. It was the reason why Desmond made sure his report about the incidents in Tyre were as detailed as he could make them without trying to tip his hand and letting them realize that he knew exactly why Naplouse’s name was in one of the letters they found.
Given enough time, Desmond knew that they would be able to trace these all back to Altaïr’s nine targets in the original timeline.
Now that Desmond thought about it…
Rashid had every reason to kill Harash.
Was it truly a coincidence that Altaïr was supposed to kill him in the original timeline?
Or did Rashid manipulate the both of them to ensure Harash’s death?
Maybe Adha dying had been part of the plan to keep her away from the Templars if Rashid himself could not have her?
He was getting too deep into the ‘what ifs’, propelled by his displeasure of Rashid’s entire existence.
An argument could be made that Harash was Rashid’s only true ally until the end.
He had no reasons to kill Harash back then since his Keeper was not yet a loose thread.
He was now, though.
And the best part of this entire thing?
Harash didn’t need to stay alive. These journals were better than any words he could utter.
But…
He would make a good smokescreen to keep these journals a secret.
“I think it’s time we take out the trash in town.” Desmond suggested as he placed the journal back on the table.
“We’ll have Rahim do it. Make it appear like this smoking gun of his is evidence of the baker sending messages to Rashid.” Diya al-Dīn agreed as he opened one of the cabinets in his desk. Desmond didn’t have to look to know his father took out the letters Abbas brought confirming it was the baker’s handwriting and the letter they had Kasim’s sister request last year. Diya al-Dīn placed them on the table as he ordered, “Arrest the baker and make a spectacle of it.”
Rahim frowned as he said, “I’m not exactly the dramatic type, mentor.”
“Take Khalid with you and tell him to play it up.” Diya al-Dīn suggested with a smile, “He seems to enjoy acting menacingly while smiling.”
Desmond nodded at Rahim when his friend glanced at him.
It didn’t really matter if Rahim or Khalid took center stage as the main Assassin to apprehend the spy.
What mattered was that Rahim was there. Khalid would know what Desmond and Diya al-Dīn wanted to do. He’d also know to give one of the letters to Rahim so he could open it and show it while they were arresting the baker.
That way, it would imply that Rahim’s ‘smoking gun’ was the documents that confirmed the baker was a spy.
That should cover their tracks for now, especially since the Masyaf delegates were still in Alamut.
Desmond had thought that they were going to leave as soon as the weather calmed down but it seemed they must have formed some kind of attachment to Alamut because they wanted to stay and help with the relocation of the villagers near the area marked to be ‘flood-prone’.
“Understood, mentor.” Rahim bowed slightly before leaving the office without saying another word.
Once the door closed, Diya al-Dīn sighed, “We’re going to get complaints from our people about how they can no longer get fresh bread in a week.”
Desmond hummed in agreement. It was a safe assumption. The town would be abuzz with news of the baker’s true identity for two to three days or so. After that, they wouldn’t say anything bad because they would still be reeling over the betrayal.
By next week though, they’d be complaining about not being able to buy freshly baked bread in the morning or the evening.
“Hilde has been baking bread since they got their clay oven working.” Desmond said casually as he sat on the chair on the other side of his father’s desk, “I’ll have some recruits talk about it while they’re in town.”
Nothing too obvious. Something along the lines of ‘we should buy a gift for Khalid’s wife for the bread she baked us’ or something.
He’d talk to Kadar about it.
Kadar knew the best way to get recruits to spread gossip and rumors.
Not to mention, Kadar had joined the recruits at the start of this year and he’d been placed in the same batch as Adha. Adha had been complaining jokingly about how easy it was for Kadar to get into everyone’s good graces when it took her weeks just to stop her batchmates from asking if she was alright every time they bumped into her.
It would be a good way for Kadar to solidify his standing with the younger recruits.
“Will she be alright taking over as the baker?” Diya al-Dīn asked with a slight tilt of his head.
“Even if she’s not, I’ll ask if she’d like to mentor someone who would want to.” Desmond paused for a second before he admitted, “I plan on asking the women in the thermae if they’d like to learn how to bake. If enough of them want to, we can even make plans to expand this to something we can… profit from.”
Desmond couldn’t explain it yet but he had been giving broad descriptions of baked desserts to Hilde for a while now.
At first, he had only done it because Hilde had complained about how boring it was baking the same thing over and over again. So Desmond tried to give her suggestions.
He didn’t know how to bake in general. His apartment didn’t have an oven, after all. He had to buy a second hand microwave and a single electric stove with his salary and there was no way he was going to spend more of his savings to buy an oven when he wasn’t that interested in baking.
Sure, he was curious about it but then he saw how much effort he’d need to give and…
Well, it was cheaper in his eyes to just buy any dessert he wanted back then.
But, at the very least, he still remembered what they looked like.
Sure. Sugar was a problem but… they had honey.
And it was up to Hilde to think of how to use honey as a substitute.
Who knows? Maybe she would be able to think of something that Desmond had never seen before?
Desmond hadn’t really planned it all that well. He wanted to know first if there would be enough people who’d want to learn how to bake and…
“Are you planning to remove the nymphs from the thermae?” Diya al-Dīn asked as Bennu looked away from the journal ‘he’ was reading to stare at Desmond.
Desmond shrugged as he said, “I’m giving them more options. That’s all.”
Desmond turned his head to look out the window as he commented, “I’m sure not all of them would leave the thermae. Some of them do enjoy their lives there. But for those who don’t and believe that this is the only life they are allowed to have…”
Desmond turned to look back at his parents as he said, “Everyone has the right to know they will always have options. And if they believe they don’t… well…”
Desmond grinned as he added, “I think it’s my job as Jalāl’s older brother to make Alamut a better place for him to inherit, right?”
News of the baker’s arrest spread quickly all over town. The Brotherhood didn’t do anything to dissuade the public from gossiping about it.
They listened in, of course, but there was no gossip going around that could be considered dangerous.
Desmond didn’t want to hear even a whisper of a witch hunt and they did everything they could to dissuade such thinking even before the people realized it was a possibility.
The morning after the baker’s arrest, Rawiya announced the charges the baker faced in the center of town. He also told them that, if they wanted to have someone read or write a letter for them, they could come to his father.
His father even joked about how he was so bored he’d be willing to write a love letter for them.
It was the best move Desmond could think of. Khalid and Rahim were the faces of the Assassins who arrested the baker. Their words would hold a certain… threat to it no matter how gently or casually they spoke.
Desmond couldn’t do it himself though because that would make this entire incident have some kind of greater impact which they were trying to stop in the first place. The acting mentor explaining what happened? People would think that the baker had been doing something horrible enough for Desmond to make a move himself.
… technically, he did. Spying for Rashid was a greater threat than any spies the crusaders or other kingdoms could plant inside Alamut.
But the general populace didn’t need to know that. They didn’t need to fear that their neighbor may be a spy.
Rawiya was the best candidate to explain what happened.
He was born and raised in Alamut as a street urchin who was adopted into a well known Assassin family. He spent his life as an Assassin patrolling the castle.
The people trusted him because they knew him.
His words carried both the weight of a respected member of the Brotherhood and the reassurance of an old friend.
That was the reason why Desmond had placed him in charge of the teams patrolling Alamut for the foreseeable future.
Desmond trusted Rawiya would take care of things while he focused on the journals and documents from Ḥalab.
If this was a movie, Desmond assumed the next scene after Rahim gave them the documents was the preparation to travel to Masyaf.
And one could say that was what they were doing.
Unfortunately, these ‘preparations’ were mostly looking over every report and document related to their investigation of the Assassins in Masyaf in general.
That was Desmond’s primary job. It took so much time that his father took over the tasks he had as the ‘acting’ mentor.
Silver lining…
His father was now the mentor once more as far as Alamut was concerned.
And Desmond was going to keep it that way since, after this entire thing with Rashid was done, he and Altaïr were going to have their honeymoon.
Maybe kick Juno’s ass while tying up loose ends along the way.
Desmond even had the proposal ready to be presented to his parents. Officially, he and Altaïr would be on a mission to check out rumored Hidden Ones locations that might shine more light about their forgotten past. Unofficially, Desmond was pettily making sure his journey with Altaïr was of a much larger scale than the one Altaïr shared with Maria in the original timeline.
He was sure that his parents wouldn’t reject his proposal.
They already knew he was going on a journey this year, after all.
Speaking of Altaïr…
Unfortunately, due to Altaïr’s connection to Rashid, he wasn’t allowed to help Desmond with compiling all the reports and documents they had. Khalid had a similar reason for being unable to help with this. Since Khalid’s brother was a member of Masyaf’s council and their ‘strained’ relationship was well known, it would be better for him to not be part of this task as well.
It was up to Desmond and his fellow batchmates to compile everything into an easy to digest summary that no one in the council in Masyaf could turn a blind eye to.
In some ways, this was their first unofficial job as the mentor and council.
While his dear husband had fun helping Khalid with his experiments instead.
Desmond was pretty sure that the hidden gun would be appearing earlier than normal considering how Altaïr had asked him what ‘smoking gun’ meant.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t blow up the scholar’s tower in the process.
It took them a month to create the final report.
In that every same month, all the villagers were relocated to the ruins. Desmond only visited them during the first two days they were settling in, together with Altaïr and the Assassin that was in charge of this mission.
They found no spy but they did receive reports that the Assassins sent to help with the relocation had found hastily cleaned up camp sites near the cliffs overlooking the river. Desmond ordered those Assassins to return and stay hidden in the villages. They were to take down any trespassers and check for any strange movements nearby.
He asked them to only kill the trespassers if they were a danger, otherwise, they should bring them to the ruins where they already turned one of the buildings into a jail.
He knew that the strange weather was hard on a lot of people. Sometimes, bandits only resorted to criminal acts because they had no choice. Of course, he didn’t think all of them could be given a second chance.
He was simply too jaded to believe such a thing. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t willing to give people a chance though.
With the villagers settled in, the Assassin in charge of keeping them safe and healthy was already proceeding with the plans to hire those who wanted extra money.
Apparently, most of them did. Desmond couldn’t blame them. Just because they were given three meals a day and they didn’t have to pay for anything, that didn’t mean that they weren’t worried about how they were going to eat after they returned to their villages.
Because of this, Desmond’s plan to make a farm in front of the castle might become a reality this year.
Of course, the farm had to be a bit far from the castle so it could be burned without any fear in case an army tried to attack them. He’d have to make plans for that as well that his father could implement later this year.
The scholars also figured out a solution to the impending flooding of the river.
They were going to dig multiple paths for the river to go to where it was okay for those portions of the land to be flooded instead. Desmond wasn’t sure if that was what a dam was but the scholars wanted to survey the land near the river to check for possible locations. If things went well, they’d be able to pick a few places that could even serve as places for the villagers to use for farming vegetables or fruits that wouldn’t be destroyed even if the area was flooded.
Altaïr was the one who gave him the summary of the scholars’ plan and Desmond knew that Altaïr had to listen to them for quite a long time. It was a miracle he was able to summarize it in an hour long report at this point. After his report, Altaïr suggested that Assassins escort the scholars on their survey all the while checking the surrounding area for anyone who might have eyes on the abandoned villages.
Maybe they were being too cautious about the possibility of bandits and thieves aiming for those villages but it was better to be safe, especially since the scholars deserved all the protection Alamut could grant them.
Desmond was sure that Altaïr’s plan was only given a cursory glance by Faheem before he approved it. He heard from Altaïr that Faheem was giving him proposals from the scholars to look over as well because Altaïr “looked bored” and if that wasn’t a hint of Faheem wanting to retire Desmond was going to eat his shoe.
The next month had Desmond scrambling to get everything in order, preparing for worst case scenarios and setting up a chain of command that everyone would adhere to while he and his father were gone.
Because his father was going too.
“It’s not because of any lingering attachment I have for Rashid. I must be the one to accuse him. That is my responsibility as the son of the man he hated the most.”
Chapter 100
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
“Do I get a bonus?”
Desmond blinked. He stared at the grinning face of Khalid for a moment before he repeated, “A bonus…”
“Isn’t there a part in the law you passed a while back where it states that those who work tasks that are not supposed to be theirs shall receive a bonus from their employer?” Khalid reminded him.
That was included in the law, yes.
Desmond remembered adding it in during the first draft.
Hell, Desmond remembered why he added it.
There had been too many times he had to work overtime to help with the clean up or the accounting in Bad Weathers even when it wasn’t supposed to be his job.
And, of course, some of them had been delegated to ‘unpaid’ work because his boss was scummy like that.
So, yeah. He made sure to include the bonus part and he also ordered that all workers be given a copy of their contract which would be checked and approved by a new group in the scholars’ tower called the ‘department of employment (name pending)’.
The group was composed of Assassins who could no longer do missions and were qualified to be a Rafiq or an assistant to the Rafiq, led by a scholar who was ‘inspired’ by Desmond’s questions about how labor laws worked around these parts. These Assassins either didn’t want to leave Alamut or didn’t want to be a Rafiq. They’d been delegated to doing menial work around the castle instead which they were okay with. Still, they enthusiastically accepted Desmond’s job offer and had been doing quite well in their new job.
Desmond was honestly worried he was just a few steps away from building an actual law firm at this point.
It was frighteningly dangerous how easy it was for him to change the way of things in this place. At first, he thought it was because of the rumor that he was a descendant of the Hidden Ones. He thought that the idea of being connected to the lost ancestry of the Brotherhood made it easy for the people to accept the changes he was making because they believed it was what was the norm with the Hidden Ones.
Then he realized it was just… Desmond couldn’t believe it when he first realized it but people really just liked the changes he was making.
As long as it kept the people safe and brought the castle profit…
He was being given enough leeway to drown out the opposition.
But he didn’t expect Khalid to negotiate with him.
“I mean…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, “If you’re alright with us filling out a contract of your employment-”
Desmond’s brows furrowed as he thought out loud, “Wait. If we’re going to write your contract, then it’s only fair that all the Assassins have a contract of their own.”
He took the nearest rolled up blank parchment as he continued, “We’ll also include the recruits-”
“Desmond, I just want compensation for taking over the mentor’s job while you and the doctor are going to Masyaf for your family drama.” Khalid cut him off, placing his hand over the parchment before Desmond could unfurl it.
“Our family drama…” Desmond repeated dryly.
“Everyone knows how Rashid was like an older brother to our mentor.” Khalid shrugged before grinning once more as he teased, “Which means that he’s a bit like your uncle.”
Khalid leaned closer as he continued, “And it’s not exactly wrong to say that he raised Altaïr like a son.”
Desmond sighed and pushed Khalid’s shoulder lightly as he said dismissively, “Yes, yes. My relationship with Altaïr is incestual, blah, blah, blah.”
Desmond placed the blank parchment back on its previous place as he asked, “So what kind of compensation do you want?”
“You know how Altaïr and I have been working on creating this so-called ‘hidden gun’ you’ve talked to him about, right?” Khalid waved his hand as he answered Desmond’s growing worry, “And no, I have no plan to finish that up while you and Altaïr go on your honeymoon after this. That’s Altaïr’s pet project. I’m just helping him out.”
Khalid placed both of his hands on Desmond’s desk as he leaned a bit closer, “But I am interested in using the delivery system of the hidden gun for our bombs.”
“… like a cannon?”
Or a bazooka?
Or maybe even a mortar.
Dear god.
Desmond was fucking up the progression of armaments already.
Maybe he shouldn’t have approved the trade agreement with a merchant from the Song dynasty back when he was just helping out Khalid with the recreation of the bombs the Hidden Ones supposedly used before.
Was he expanding their trade routes too much?
Probably.
But, at the same time…
If they develop such weaponry, maybe Alamut wouldn’t be taken over by the Mongols later on.
Just because he planned to have the Brotherhood return to the shadows, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to help protect Alamut.
Especially considering how Jalāl would be the one leading their home around that time.
Or maybe even Jalāl’s child.
Desmond sighed.
He was soooo going to regret this.
“Give me a concrete proposal by tomorrow and we’ll talk about it.”
“I’ll have it done by this evening.” Khalid countered, not even bothering to hide his glee. He was already by the door as he said, “I’ll see you later, Desmond. You won’t regret this!”
The door closed and Desmond rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Knowing Khalid, he already knew that Desmond was going to regret this so his last words were more of a joke than an actual promise.
“Um… are we… going to prepare contract for everyone?”
“No.” Desmond answered the two scholars assisting him today.
He ignored how one of them thanked Allah furiously under his breath.
Just because they got overtime pay, that didn’t mean they wanted to work long hours to prepare a draft of everyone’s contract.
Desmond’s lips twitched.
Yeah.
It was better not to tell them that there was no way he was ever going to agree to writing contracts for the Brotherhood. That felt like an insult to everyone’s reasons in becoming an Assassin.
He just wanted to tease Khalid.
Well…
Guess now he had to think if it would be a good idea to agree in creating such advance weaponry…
Khalid went an extra mile and got backup, that treacherous rat.
“I’m not going to agree to your proposal just because Altaïr is backing you up right now.” Desmond warned and ignored the unimpressed look his two assistants gave him.
Sure, he approved Altaïr’s proposal earlier concerning the list of scholars that would travel to the villages after looking it over once but, in Desmond’s defense, he and Altaïr already talked about it a bit last night before they… ‘retired for the night’.
“He’s just here to assist me.” Khalid informed him and Desmond did not like that smile at all.
He met Altaïr’s eyes and saw the determination shining in them.
Of course Altaïr would want this project to be approved.
He wanted to know how his own project, the hidden gun, could be implemented into other things.
Sometimes, Desmond truly believed he just became Altaïr’s Apple 2.0.
He was the worst enabler of all.
But it was hard to say no when Altaïr’s face lit up whenever they talk about devices and innovations from Desmond’s time.
“Altaïr…” Desmond entwined his hands as he rested his elbows on the desk. He placed his chin on top of his entwined hands as he said, “Khalid is a big boy. He doesn’t need any assistance with his presentation.”
“Are you pulling rank?” Khalid asked, looking too entertained to actually complain about this.
“Of course not.” Desmond glanced at one of his assistant, “He is.”
“Altaïr.” A scholar a decade older than everyone else in the room placed an entire stack of paper on his desk, “These are all proposals given to us directly by the scholars. They’ve not been checked by Faheem and, thus, had not gone through the proper procedure.”
“As the next head of the scholar’s tower, we ask that you take all these documents and return them to the scholars. Please remind them of the proper procedure.” The scholar’s face darkened as he added, “In whatever manner you deem would work best in getting it through their thick skulls.”
“I’m not-” Altaïr stopped and sighed. He grabbed the stack of papers as he said, “I will talk to them.”
Altaïr turned to look at Desmond as he said, “I’ll see you later then, Desmond.”
“Make sure you don’t get too engrossed talking to them and forget dinner, alright?” Desmond reminded him.
“I promise I won’t forget.” Altaïr said with a smile before leaving the room.
Khalid watched the door close before turning to face his true enemy, “That’s cheating.”
“Good thing we Assassins don’t really care about that kind of thing when we’re the one doing it, right?” Desmond asked in a singsong tone.
“How prepared are you?” Khalid asked with an amused smile and both of Desmond’s assistants placed different stacks of paper on their desk.
Desmond placed a toy sword on the table.
“You even planned for the possibility I’d ask help from Jalāl?” Khalid raised an eyebrow at that.
“He’s a kid. He would want to see things go ‘boom’.” Desmond defended himself, not bothering to tell Khalid that the toy sword was also for the possibility that his friend would use his own daughter to soften Desmond up. Desmond leaned back as he said, “Now. Be professional and let’s see your proposal.”
In the end, Desmond did approve of Khalid’s request to research artillery using a similar mechanism as Altaïr’s project concerning the hidden gun’s development.
Desmond managed to put a few conditions though, including how both Faheem and Oded were to receive weekly reports about the project and they were allowed to intervene at any given time if they believe things were becoming too dangerous or Khalid had not noticed something that could be important.
Another was that Khalid couldn’t start the project yet. He could only start it once he was no longer the acting mentor.
Which meant…
Desmond’s father would have to deal with that project since Desmond and Altaïr would be on their honeymoon.
It was a win-win situation, as far as Desmond was concerned.
The plan was to have seven small teams of three leave Alamut every other week. They would station themselves in nearby locations to Masyaf and would wait for a signal from Desmond before making their way to Rashid’s little castle.
It took a lot of time. Desmond knew that.
But this way… it would be harder for Masyaf to realize that something was wrong.
They even timed it perfectly so the last team to leave Alamut would be the team sent to receive Rashid’s monthly report.
This also gave Desmond a bit of leeway. The tunnel that would lead to the Apple would be fully opened by the end of June. Their worst case scenario would have Rashid removed from his post by the end of May. He’d have enough time to help with the clean-up before making his way to Jerusalem and grabbing the Apple.
So while Desmond waited for the final phase of the plan…
“My father sends his utmost gratitude for the gift you have sent him.” az-Zahir said with a smile, “He has even told me to give you an unofficial invitation.”
“Unofficial?” Desmond repeated as he placed the cup down. The tea served in az-Zahir’s palace was definitely different even though he knew that the tea leaves used were from a specific merchant that was supplying Alamut as well.
That meant it was a difference in the preparation.
“My father and I both know that you wouldn’t want to accept such an invitation.” az-Zahir’’s smile grew just a little bit bigger as he said, “You made your stance clear.”
“The Brotherhood has no plans to become Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s enemy.”
“Of course.” az-Zahir took a sip of his tea before adding, “But you also do not have any plans to form an alliance with us.”
Desmond remained quiet, making az-Zahir chuckle as he placed his cup on the table.
“It’s alright. My father understands.” He stared at Desmond as he noted, “He is quite wary of you and your plans for the future of Alamut.”
“Jalāl is Alamut’s future.” Desmond calmly stated, “I will honor whatever decision he makes once he becomes the imam.”
az-Zahir hummed, holding the cup with both of his hands as he said, “Someone has been whispering to father’s ear that it would be better if young Jalāl was to take the throne now.”
Desmond’s lips curved into a sweet smile, “Please advise your father to be wary of such thoughts.”
“Advise…” az-Zahir repeated and returned Desmond’s smile with his own, “Do you know who is the scariest man in these tumultuous times right now, Desmond?”
“Your father?” Desmond answered politely in a questioning tone.
“Thank you for such kind words but we both know that’s not true.” az-Zahir tapped his cup with one finger as he said, “It’s the man behind the rapid growth and prosperity of a castle in the mountains.”
“The man who’s now here, ensuring the transfer of authority back to his home.” az-Zahir continued. He pushed the tea away from him as he informed Desmond, “My father told me to be wary of you and to figure out your next plan.”
“But you’re not going to do that.” Desmond noted.
“Am I not?”
“Nope.” Desmond smiled at him, “When we first met, I believed you would. Then I realized…”
Desmond turned at the window overlooking Ḥalab in all its glory, “… my issues with my birth father were clouding my judgment.”
Desmond turned to look back at az-Zahir as he said, “You don’t have the same ambition as your father nor do you wish to succeed him. You’re content with what you have here in Ḥalab. No…”
“Ḥalab is your home.” Desmond’s smile grew softer, “Your uncle cared for you a lot, didn’t he?”
“He has been more of a father to me than the great Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had ever been.” az-Zahir agreed with a nod, “He taught me what it means to love Ḥalab.”
“I will never agree to an alliance with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn. He’s too ambitious for my taste. But…” Desmond smiled at az-Zahir, “I’d love for our friendship to continue regardless of the kind of relationship we will have with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.”
“I… I would like that as well, Desmond.” az-Zahir closed his eyes as he admitted, “But you must know that, if there comes a time when my father aims his blade upon Alamut, I cannot be of help.”
“A warning will be good enough.” Desmond suggested lightly.
“A warning…” az-Zahir chuckled at Desmond’s cocky request before agreeing, “Very well. My private chamber’s balcony faces the stronghold. If you see a vase of red and white flowers sitting on the table there, that will serve as my one and only warning.”
“Thank you.” Desmond took a sip of his tea as he asked, “We just have to wait it out then.”
“Oh?”
“When the times come that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s successors take over… well…” Desmond smiled, “We will help ensure Ḥalab safety, of course.”
“Successors.” az-Zahir’s smile turned bitter as he commented, “How embarrassing that you seem to know more about my family than I do yours.”
“Well… I’m going to be here for a well.” Desmond grinned as he said, “I can tell you about them some other time.”
“Perhaps while we have tea in your stronghold?” az-Zahir suggested.
“I’m afraid I can’t show you the inside of our ‘secret’ stronghold.”
“Shame.” az-Zahir lightheartedly said before they both chuckle. He cleared his throat before asking, “Then, next time, please introduce me to the man you eloped with.”
Desmond sighed.
There was no real reason to correct that misunderstanding since they were using it to keep people from realizing that Desmond and Adha went to Iram.
“Sure. I wasn’t exactly sure if he’d be welcomed here considering, well…” Desmond didn’t bother to finish that sentence.
“Oh, it is certainly scandalous.” az-Zahir nodded before smiling that boyish smile of his, “But I would be such a bad friend if I don’t support your love now, wouldn’t I?”
“The worst.” Desmond snarked, making az-Zahir laugh once more.
“How long will you stay here in Ḥalab? I can work with your schedule since you rarely visit.” az-Zahir said without any malice. They both knew how much work it took to take care of their people and lands after all.
“I’ll be here for another week. I’ll send you an invitation to introduce the next steward of the stronghold.”
“Another week. Where will you go next?” az-Zahir asked curiously.
“Altaïr and I will take a short trip to Cyprus.”
“Cyprus…” az-Zahir’s lips curled into an amused smile, “Ah. I hear the king of Cyprus has captured a few women that have close ties with a certain lion trying to dig his claws into our lands.”
“Oh? I heard it was just a rumor.” Desmond casually said.
“For now. There is no way that man would announce to everyone that he failed to protect his woman and his sister.” az-Zahir tapped his point finger against his cup, “You should tread carefully, Desmond. The whispers in the market all say the same thing. The lion is on his way to take what has been taken away from him.”
“I’m not planning to make it a three way battle, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Desmond smiled, “I’m just going to do what is expected of me.”
“As the imam of Alamut or as an Assassin?” az-Zahir asked curiously.
“My dear friend…” Desmond grinned, “I’m not the imam of Alamut.”
Chapter 101
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Their farewell to az-Zahir was a quiet one. It was just a simple tea party the day before they left.
Calling it a tea party was a bit too much, to be honest.
It was more accurate to call it a simple afternoon tea where az-Zahir was officially introduced to Altaïr and the new steward of the stronghold here in Ḥalab. The new steward was Yahya, an older Assassin who was part of Rawiya’s team. He had mainly been patrolling and keeping Alamut safe after getting transferred to Rawiya’s team.
Desmond first knew him as the one who taught Peredur the languages mainly used around here.
He also knew him as someone Rawiya trusted the most when it came to their duty of ensuring the safety of the people in Alamut.
He heard from Peredur that Yahya had been a field Assassin for almost a decade and he’d taken the job of tutoring Rawiya as a change of pace. Growing roots in Alamut during that time wasn’t part of the plan but Yahya decided to stay in Alamut even after his tutoring job was done.
Honestly, Desmond knew that his father’s suggestion to place Yahya as the steward was to ensure the loyalty of those remaining here in Ḥalab now that it was under Alamut’s rule.
Well…
Desmond was sure that Ḥalab would return to Masyaf’s jurisdiction once they were certain that Masyaf could stand on their own.
To be completely honest, Alamut taking responsibility over Ḥalab was a disaster waiting to happen.
It was simply too far from the edge of Alamut’s sphere of influence. Specifically, Ḥalab was days away from the nearest bureau under Alamut.
Unless the Brotherhood was to expand and create more bureaus, the stronghold here in Ḥalab would be isolated if Masyaf decided to ignore it in its time of need.
They couldn’t count on another lucky break like how everyone from the Jerusalem bureau managed to travel to Alamut safely while some of them were sick. They were ‘protected’ by the fact that no one was actually chasing them.
If shit hit the fan in Ḥalab, the most probable conclusion was that everyone had to leave while being pursued by ‘enemies’.
As for the identity of those hypothetical enemies…
Desmond had no concrete idea of how things went after Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s death. He didn’t even have any memories of how the man died.
But he did remember how his death fractured everything and how his sons fought with one another to become his rightful heir. He had no memories of az-Zahir’s part in all of that infighting but, knowing the young man, he would probably stay neutral to protect Ḥalab.
While they were not in charge of Ḥalab, the Brotherhood must still protect the people living here. It was for a simple reason. Regardless of the political inclinations of those in charge or where their alliances may be, the people themselves were innocent. That was all the reason the Brotherhood needed. And it would be better if the responsibility fell to Masyaf because they were closer than Alamut.
That was why Desmond knew that they would have to give up the stronghold in Ḥalab sooner or later. Desmond was counting on Masyaf to get back on their feet and leave behind Rashid’s large shadow before the death of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
They would use the excuse of giving Ḥalab back as a reward for getting their shit together.
Although he already had a plan in place as an alternative if necessary.
It would be easier to support Ḥalab if there were nearby bureaus, after all, and Alamut was raking enough profit to keep the scholars happy and…
Desmond had a cut on that.
It was the least the scholars could do considering Peredur based the books on him, after all.
It felt like some kind of embarrassing version of blood money so Desmond never touched it. Instead, he decided it would be used to fund his proposal for the expansion of the Brotherhood.
And the first step towards that expansion was to connect Alamut and Masyaf in their own version of a chain of bureaus and secret houses. This chain would serve to make it easier to transport supplies and manpower whenever necessary…
Like what should have happened in the first place.
Desmond wasn’t going to take all the credit for this idea.
He based it on an old proposal that another Assassin made before.
Rashid himself.
It was the same proposal that pushed Rashid out of Alamut and Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if he had been forced to make the proposal by the old mentor.
Technically… Desmond’s grandfather since he was now adopted but he didn’t really see him as one…
It was the kind of malicious pettiness that Desmond could see that dead geezer do just because of his jealousy over Rashid’s charisma and skills.
Rashid saw right through it. Desmond was certain of it. That was the only explanation to why the old proposal had been riddled with loopholes that Rashid used as ‘excuses’. These excuses served to explain why he was pushing back the plans to expand Masyaf’s territories to meet Alamut in the middle.
So Desmond had to fix it. Maybe it would have been easier to start from scratch but there was this strange joy that came over him when he finished fixing that sorry excuse of a proposal.
Desmond didn’t even know that fixing an old proposal could count as an insult to the original author but that was the kind of feeling he got after fixing everything.
And he made sure that the project would proceed even if he wasn’t there to oversee it.
But first things first…
Cyprus was an important location, not just to the every powerful faction in these lands but to Desmond himself.
He remembered how the Apple that would later fall into Ezio’s hands was from Cyprus. It was hidden in some kind of archive that the Templars had built underneath Limassol Castle. He wasn’t able to investigate the place when he visited Cyprus last time, mainly because he had been busy pretending to be an informant and helping Rauf assassinate Andronikos while staying under the radar as Vega.
Now though, he had an excuse to ‘visit’ the castle.
“Assassinating Isaac Doukas Komnenos is risky.” Markos commented after hearing Desmond’s plan. Markos wasn’t exactly the Rafiq because the Brotherhood didn’t have a bureau in Cyprus but his second home served as a secret house for any Assassin staying here. Informants visit him in his third house which actually belonged to his uncle. There was even a hidden basement where they could hide if necessary.
This meant that Markos was the closest to a Rafiq Cyprus had to offer.
“If you’re worried about Rashid, don’t be.” Desmond rolled up the map he used as an aid to explaining his plan. He handed the map to Markos as he smiled, “I want him to know it was me.”
Markos glanced at Altaïr who had been leaning against the wall with a clear view of the entire room before commenting, “Well, if you wanted to show your authority as the next mentor, ordering Rashid to kneel would probably be a better idea than doing this. Assassinating someone in his territory without sending him a message is a bit too much.”
Desmond turned to look at Altaïr who simply shrugged.
Oh, good. Altaïr also realized that Markos had the wrong idea.
Desmond wasn’t just being paranoid.
“I don’t need to flaunt my authority to anyone.” Desmond said as he turned to stare at Markos once more, “And I’m not doing this to have a pissing contest with Rashid of all people.”
Desmond felt like he was going to get a headache but he pressed on, “He can believe whatever he wants and dance his days away in that little castle of his. I’m doing this for the future of the Brotherhood.”
Markos stared at him quietly for a moment before he nodded, “Not counting the fact that you outrank me so I don’t have any real power to stop you from doing this-”
“Markos, just because someone outranks you doesn’t give them a free pass.” Desmond cut him off calmly, “If you think you’re doing the right thing, then stop them.”
Desmond shrugged as he added, “Just make sure to send a report afterwards and try not to hurt them too much. We’ll send a team here that will listen to your side and take it in consideration. So… if you think any Assassin is getting out of line, feel free to tie them up and wait for us to intervene.”
“Even if they’re from Masyaf.” Desmond stressed.
“Oh.” Markos blinked before nodding, “Thank you. I mean… I know I’m not a Rafiq or anything but I appreciate that, Desmond.”
Markos waved his hand as he said, “Anyway…”
He placed a feather on the table as he continued, “I do believe you’re doing the right thing. It goes against our Creed and our tenets to let that man do whatever he wants. Not to mention, while they are related to one of the men burning the lands in war and strife, those women still deserve to be saved.”
He pushed the feather as he added, “But I’d like you to know that I think allying with that man is a dangerous path for the Brotherhood to take.”
“Assassinating his enemy and saving his fiancee and sister are not my way of offering an alliance.” Desmond sighed.
Sure, it did look like that but there was no way he was allying with King Richard, especially after he just rejected Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s offer.
“They’re a way for me to talk to him.” Desmond informed him.
Markos frowned as he asked, “If you’re not planning to ally with the Christians then why would you want to talk to one of their kings?”
“I’m giving him a chance to clean his own house…” Desmond grabbed the white feather on the table as he continued, “… before we do it for him.”
“It’s as Markos said, there’s no castle in Limassol.”
Desmond felt like he should be embarrassed but he was honestly just annoyed. He rubbed his head as he mumbled, “Well, fuck.”
Altaïr whistled as he raised his arm, letting Maud rest on him as he said, “It doesn’t necessarily mean that you remembered things wrong. Maybe the castle is going to be built some other time. Just… not right now.”
“We’re going with Plan B then? I’ll make some noise while you go find the Templar Archive?” Desmond asked with a sigh while Aquila landed on his shoulder. He ignored the staring contest the two eagles were having.
Honestly, they competed over the weirdest things and it was better to just let them do their thing.
“That’s our best course of action.” Altaïr said with a nod, “I’ll look around with Maud.”
Maud took that as her cue to fly off Altaïr’s arm. Desmond watched Altaïr drop his arm as he said, “Remember…”
“I won’t kill anyone or take anything.” Altaïr finished. His lips curved into a fond smile and he caressed Desmond’s cheek with the back of his hand, “Don’t worry, Desmond. I’ll be careful.”
“I’m not worried that you wouldn’t be careful. I guess…” Desmond frowned as he looked below them.
Limassol was a bustling place, filled with people quickly making their way home or running to somewhere they believed would be safer.
Desmond’s memories of this place weren’t that clear but…
This was where Altaïr started to get close to Maria Thorpe in the original timeline.
It wasn’t jealousy. He was too happy with his life with Altaïr to be jealous of a ‘future’ that would no longer happen.
To be completely honest, it had become easy to differentiate his Altaïr from the Altaïr he knew both in the Animus and as a Bleed.
They were two different people coming from the same ‘starting point’ but diverging at a crossroad that Desmond’s appearance in this time had created.
Being here in Limassol though…
Reminded him too much about what was ‘supposed’ to happen.
How, in many ways, Desmond was destroying Altaïr’s legacy.
“Desmond?”
Altaïr’s voice pulled Desmond from his spiraling thoughts as he dropped his hand.
Desmond already missed the warmth of his hand against his cheek.
“If…” The wind blew at that time, pausing his words. Their hoods stayed on but the wind caused Desmond to see Altaïr’s hair slightly curling at the end. His lips curved into a small smile.
Altaïr had started to grow his hair, whether it was because he wanted to or because he got too busy dealing with the scholars to have the time to shave them, Desmond wasn’t sure.
But…
It looked good on him.
He looked different but in a good way.
His Altaïr.
“If you could pick how the Brotherhood would remember you centuries from now, how would you like to be remembered?” Desmond asked.
Altaïr hummed as he looked at the sky. He raised a hand towards the sky as he said, “I don’t mind if no one remembers me.”
He dropped his hand as he continued, “I was taught that being an Assassin means being no one.”
“A shadow that none can catch.” He turned to look at Desmond before continuing, “But… if I can be remembered for even just a single thing, I want to be remembered as being yours.”
Desmond blinked, showing his surprise of such an answer. His surprise caused Altaïr to smile, “Rather than be remembered as an Assassin… as a weapon… As a bringer of death… I want to remembered as a man who loved you with all his heart.”
Desmond’s eyes shone as he gave Altaïr a small fragile smile. His voice cracked even as he tried to lighten the mood, “I mean… I’m sure there’s going to be letters complaining about us and how lovey-dovey we’ve been. Nothing survives the passage of time more than spite.”
Altaïr laughed as he took Desmond’s hand. He squeezed it lightly as he said, “I think that’s a wonderful way to be remembered.”
“Me too.” Desmond grinned, “I think it’ll be the best.”
Desmond found his target in Dipkarpaz together with an army ready to greet the fleet that King Richard was sailing with. The port was filled with weapons that would deal a devastating blow to ships.
Catapults…
Rows of archers with an abundant supplies of arrows…
And oil. Lots of oil.
All it would take was one precise shot and the port would turn into a fiery inferno that would take days to quell.
But Komnenos wasn’t an idiot. He also brought his hostages here in the port, sitting at the tallest building being covered by vibrant fabrics above their head and colorful pillows all around them.
‘Protected’ by barrels of oils.
Any approaching ships would be able to notice them. Those vibrant fabrics and pillows formed a beacon that showed Komnenos’ cruelty and guile. They’d notice the barrier of oil as well…
No one would dare try to retaliate. Not when their king’s sister and betrothed were right there.
It wasn’t just a stray arrow that might hit either of them that they had to be worried about…
Even if their aim was true, they risk the possibility of striking someone holding a torch or an arrow shrouded in flames.
Hell, they might also think that Komnenos had already ordered a few of his men all around the port to burn those oils at his command or if the tides turn against them.
It was simply too risky for them to attack.
Desmond knew that Komnenos wouldn’t do it. Only an idiot would kill them when he was about to lose. No matter how ‘chivalrous’ or ‘righteous’ or whatever dumb shit King Richard was portraying himself to be, he would retaliate in kind if the people he loved died in front of him.
So this was primarily a scare tactic. He was banking on the crusaders believing he was evil enough to kill the hostages.
And they would believe it because he wasn’t a ‘crusader’. They didn’t know that he was part of the Templar Order. No one did.
Well…
Harash knew and he left a few copies of the letters he received from Komnenos, including a letter about how Komnenos had agreed that Andronikos must be assassinated to ensure the safety of whatever the Order was hiding here in Cyprus.
Komnenos wasn’t an idiot. He planned to use King Richard’s betrothed and sister to further his own goal, just as he used Andronikos’ death to his advantage.
Desmond would applaud Komnenos if he wasn’t disgusted by the plan itself.
Honestly…
Desmond wasn’t sure if what he was doing was the right call.
History dictated that King Richard would be victorious and take Cyprus for himself. Not even a year under his rule, he would sell this land to the Templar Order.
The people of Cyprus deserved stability and a kind of leadership that would protect them but…
He couldn’t make any real move right now.
Not when they were planning to take Rashid out. The Brotherhood could not afford to destroy the fragile neutrality that they shared with these Christians.
Not yet.
Desmond knew that that neutrality would collapse later this year but they still had time.
They needed the time.
They could only be a third party going toe-to-toe with the Christians and the Saracens after Masyaf was stable under a new rule.
Desmond made his move just as the crusaders’ ships had started to be bombarded by arrows wreathed in flames or jars filled with oil.
One of the catapults was pushed to the sea after it caught fire. One of the jars it was supposed to throw had been leaking and the oil that leaked was ignited accidentally.
Desmond had to hand it to them, they placed the catapult near the edge and had a pulley system in place so they could easily push them to the sea. They knew what they were doing. He wasn’t sure if this kind of defense system had already been in place or if this was one of the things that Komnenos learned after becoming part of the Templar Order.
Either way, he was as arrogant as Desmond expected him to be. Once three ships were burning and none of them were retaliating, Komnenos visited the two women to gloat.
He was too enthralled with the desire to terrorize the women to notice anything wrong. Just as he was about to grab one of them, most probably to drag her near the edge of the roof and make her watch as the ships burn, Desmond grabbed his wrist and slammed his left hand over his neck, piercing his neck quickly.
The last thing he saw was Desmond, disguised as one of the silent guards keeping an eye on the women.
Before anyone else could react, Desmond threw his knives at the other guards, taking down two of them. The last one managed to block his knife and charged him but Desmond pushed Komnenos’ corpse and the guard had to catch his master, not knowing that he was already dead.
Desmond jumped both of them, pinning the last guard with the added weight of the corpse and slammed his left hand over the small opening between his helmet and armor.
“Requiescat in Pace.” Desmond whispered as he closed Komnenos’ eyes before dragging the feather across his bloody neck. He quickly took off the guard’s armor before putting the feather in one of his pouches. As he pulled his hood up, he turned towards the two as he said, “I’ve come to rescue you both.”
The crusaders didn’t know what exactly happened. Only that, around fifteen minutes since the bombardment began, a red smoke appeared where Joan of England and Berengaria of Navarre were being kept captive. A few minutes later, their enemies started acting erratically.
Many of them ran.
It was complete chaos.
And Richard could only think of one reason why…
They’d lost their chain of command.
Chapter 102
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
The proper way to do things was to get the two women somewhere safe but Desmond could not risk Markos and the other informants.
So he had to improvise.
He already had a cart ready. Asking two high nobles to hide underneath the less-than-clean fabric, pressed against stacks of hay?
That was the easy part.
The two women were still high on adrenaline coursing through their systems, making them frazzled and panicked. They didn’t complain and dove inside, letting Desmond tie the fabric to make sure it didn’t fly off but still ensuring that they could breathe underneath it.
The hard part was pretending to be a monk on his way to Kaplıca, also known as Davlos. He had to evade soldiers rushing to and from Dipkarpaz. They were far too preoccupied with the assassination of their leader but it was still a bit stressful.
Desmond knew he could take them all down if he needed to but he didn’t want to traumatize the two women hiding in the cart. They probably thought he wasn’t all that different.
Just another ‘godless barbarian’ out to profit from them.
He couldn’t even risk talking to them right now. Not when he needed to get to Kaplıca as fast as possible.
It was Desmond’s best bet at the moment.
It was north of Cyprus, as far away from Limassol as possible, but it wasn’t too far from Richard’s fleets. They’d see the second part of his plan.
Which was the red smoke that Desmond prepared on the beach…
The two women covered themselves with the white fabric, huddled together and keeping a close eye on Desmond as he threw another log to the roaring fire.
“They should be here in a few hours or so.” Desmond said, keeping his hands on his waist and his back turned towards the two women. He could still see them using his peripheral vision but they probably believed they were in his blind spot.
“Who are you?” One of them asked in a tone oozing with authority.
Not even the piece of hay stuck in her disheveled hair could detract the confidence in her voice.
Confidence… or arrogance?
Desmond wasn’t sure yet.
He turned to face them and placed a hand behind his back. He pressed his other hand over his chest and bowed slightly as he said, “Forgive me for my late introduction. I am Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III, first son of Nūr al-Dīn Muḥammad II.”
Seeing the slight creasing of her brows, he added, “My father is the ruler of Alamut, far to the east.”
The other woman whispered something to the one who demanded Desmond’s attention but it was loud enough that Desmond’s heightened senses heard it anyway.
“I memorized all the lands near here. Alamut is not one of them.”
Desmond was going to have to guess which woman was which since neither of them bothered to introduced themselves back.
The one who demanded his attention looked older and her eyes were filled with distrust and wariness. The other one who whispered just now was certainly younger and her eyes held a hint of hope beneath the wariness she possessed.
“I’ve never heard of Alamut.” The older one who was probably Richard’s sister said in an almost haughty tone.
He noticed the slight trembling of her shoulders and changed his mind.
It wasn’t haughtiness.
It was bravado.
They were powerless and at a disadvantage. Not only that, they were foreign to these lands and Desmond was faster and stronger than both of them. He could easily overpower them if he wanted to.
That was probably what was going through their minds.
“I’m not surprised.” Desmond straightened his back and kept his hands in front of him entwined, “Perhaps you would be more familiar with my brethren in Masyaf.”
The eyes of Richard’s betrothed widened for a brief second and she whispered something to the other woman.
“They’re the infidels that would die for their master if ordered to do so. They’re mad men.”
Oh, boy.
Desmond couldn’t even correct that one since they’d learn he could hear them and that would be rude.
“And what would you want with us?” Richard’s sister asked with narrowed eyes, stepping to the side slightly.
That moved could count as either an attempt to make sure she could pull the other woman behind her if necessary or…
To throw the other woman forward to shield herself.
She had a good mask but Desmond had an idea of which action she’d take when push came to shove.
“I just want you to tell King Richard that I saved you, that’s all.” Desmond answered as he sat, keeping an eye on both of the women and the sea. They stared at him without making any move as Desmond explained, “Komnenos was going to die by my hand today. His cruelty to the people here is enough for our Brotherhood to take his life.”
He nodded at them as he added, “Saving you two was… well… good fortune, I guess.”
“You’re going to use us to negotiate with my brother.”
Finally! Confirmation on who was who.
As Desmond guessed, the older looking woman was Joan of England, King Richard’s sister. That meant that the other woman was Berengaria of Navarre, the king’s betrothed.
“I just want a chance to talk to your brother.” Desmond corrected politely.
“He will not yield to an infidel.”
Desmond sighed, “Look, I know you don’t trust me and I get that you think I’m more of a beast than a human, I do, but…”
Desmond tilted his head as he asked, “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too rude?”
“It is not that I believe you are a beast because of where you were born but it is because of how you killed that man in such a cowardly manner.” Joan retorted in that haughty tone of hers.
“That’s a lie.” Desmond snorted, his lips curling to an amused smile as he said, “You’ve lived your entire life in court. I’m sure you know some of your family members have ordered the assassinations of others. Are they just as beastly as I am or is it different because they ordered a ‘beast’ to do it for them instead?”
Joan glared at him which he just shrugged off as he turned to face the sea. He ignored her glare as he said, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to argue with you about…”
He could feel his mothers scolding him for not acting in a more regal manner as he snarked, “… our cultural differences.”
“Look.” He turned to look back at them and patted the sand next to him as he said, “Just sit down and relax. Your knights in shining armor will be here soon and then we don’t have to see each other ever again.”
“You are a rude man.” Joan commented as she slowly sat down, far away from Desmond. Berengaria just stared at him as she sat behind Joan, adjusting the fabric to keep them both warm.
Desmond bit off the first sarcastic retort he thought of and just politely smiled as he nodded at her.
It was going to be a looonnnggg wait.
Desmond hated it when he was right.
It took a few awkwardly quiet hours for the crusaders’ fleet to sail to Kaplıca.
There wasn’t a port they could dock to so they sent over dinghies from each ship.
At least, Desmond was sure those small boats were called dinghies.
Okay, he wasn’t entirely sure but something inside him insisted that they were called dinghies.
Desmond didn’t even know why he was focused on that.
Once the dinghies reached the shore, he nodded at the two women as he said, “Go on. I won’t stop you.”
They hesitated for a moment before briskly walking towards the arriving small army.
“Berengaria!” Joan shouted when Berengaria stopped and turned to face him.
She gave him a hesitant small smile as she whispered, “Thank you. I hope… I hope your talk with my love goes well.”
Desmond didn’t even have time to say anything back because she already turned around and ran towards Joan who was now glaring at Desmond.
‘My love’.
He could hear the infatuation coiling over each syllable.
He watched them reach the soldiers who escorted them to Richard. The king looked over the two women with an expression of concern.
This should have been the first time Desmond laid eyes on Richard himself but Desmond recognized him immediately thanks to what remained of his Bleeds. He observed the three of them, ignoring the rows of soldiers in front with their shields out.
Or the archers at the back aiming at him.
He could dodge their volley. Anything he couldn’t dodge, he could parry with his sword and dagger.
But he was hoping that Berengaria would, at the very least, tell Richard that he just wanted to talk.
Ah.
Seeing the way Richard moved and the gestures he made…
It was definitely a political marriage for him.
Desmond wished he didn’t notice that. It was the kind of political drama he didn’t want to be a part of.
Thankfully, the two were escorted to a dinghy and rowed back to one of the ships. Desmond kept his arms crossed as he watched the king approach him.
Not too close though.
He stayed a couple of feet away.
Far enough that he needed to speak loudly as he asked, “I am grateful that you have saved my sister and my betrothed. I hear that you are from Alamut?”
“I am Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III, first son of Nūr al-Dīn Muḥammad II.” Desmond repeated the same introduction he gave the man’s sister, “I am here on behalf of our Brotherhood.”
Richard stared at him quietly before raising a hand. The archers hesitantly dropped their bows but kept holding onto their arrows while three heavily armored knights followed their king as he walked closer.
“The ‘Brotherhood’.” Richard hummed as he stood in front of Desmond. Close enough to be polite, far enough that Desmond would still need to charge him if he wanted to attack him with a sword. Desmond remained quiet as Richard commented, “I’ve heard rumors about the growing divide between Alamut and Masyaf. Something about…”
The king’s lips curled into a mirthless smile as he asked, “… the adopted son of Alamut copulating with his half-brother?”
Desmond sighed and dropped his hands before clarifying, “We do not share the same father or mother. We look quite similar because we share the same ancestor.”
“I am not one to place judgment on such matters. The purity of the royal bloodline should be protected.” The king said with a smile, “Our dear church does have a lot to say about how blatant you are in taking in a male lover.”
“Husband.” Desmond corrected.
“Ah, I see.” The king nodded slightly in lieu of an apology, “How I envy your freedom.”
This was not how Desmond expected their conversation to go.
Honestly, he was more annoyed that Richard seemed to be more interested in his love life than why a supposed prince had gone through all the trouble just to speak to him.
Richard glanced at the sea before suggesting, “If Alamut wishes for us to assist you in taking over Masyaf then I believe an official alliance is for the best.”
“You can take more than one spouse, yes?” The king asked and Desmond already dreaded the real reason why Richard was interested in Desmond’s love life. Desmond opened his mouth just as the king suggested, “My sister might be a widow but she was once the queen of Sicily.”
“And she hates me for being a barbarian.” Desmond dryly commented.
Damn. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say.
“I can assure you, she had many things to say about you just now but ‘hating’ you was not one of them.” Richard said with a smile, “It’s fine if you do not want her. I have-”
“I’m not planning to take any other spouse. Altaïr is the only one I will spend the rest of my life with.” Desmond cut him off, making the man blink at him. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “And we don’t need help with Masyaf.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Masyaf.” He said politely with a smile.
“I see…” Richard didn’t look offended at all. If anything, he looked amused. He turned to look at the sea as he said, “I can see why they all say that you’re planning to give your seat of power to your younger brother…”
If another person was going to tell him that he was with Altaïr so he wouldn’t muddy the line of succession, he was going to hit someone.
“You’re unfit to be a ruler and you know that more than anyone.” Richard stated and it was so surprising that Desmond could only tilt his head. Richard turned to face him once more as he commented, “You’re too rigid in your ways.”
Desmond would like to think that he was quite flexible but he wasn’t going to get into some kind of argument with Richard about that.
It was too much of a hassle.
The king didn’t seemed to mind that Desmond didn’t say anything. Instead, he asked in a curious tone, “So then… if you’re not here to seek my help or to propose an alliance, why are you here?”
Desmond slowly took out a small journal from one of his pouches and placed it on the ground.
“You can come closer, if you’d like.”
“I’ll pass.” Desmond dryly said as he stared at the knights on either side of the king and the one glaring from behind his liege. He took a step back as he said, “It’s a list of names that you would be familiar with. I even included their crimes.”
“I see…” Richard nodded at the knight to his right who strode forward and took the journal silently. The knight knelt in front of his king and offered the journal which Richard took. He flipped through the pages as he asked, “There’s a lot of serious allegations in this. How can I be sure that you’re not just trying to seed discord among our ranks?”
“Last page.” Desmond replied, dropping the polite smile he had.
Richard flipped to the last page and his face darkened as he saw what Desmond had written there.
It was just a warning of how he was being used by Robert de Sablé and his merry band of Templars as well as a location where he could find evidence of these supposed ‘allegations’. He raised his eyes to stare at Desmond with narrow brows as he warned, “If this is nothing more than a farce…”
“I’m sure you’d do a proper investigation.” Desmond said with a slight bow.
“And, while we’re investigating these allegations, it would only be wise that we ensure that all of the names in this list were to be kept busy and unable to make any big moves. Perhaps some of them should be kept in their territories or transported to certain ‘facilities’.” Richard stated, his calculating eyes focused on Desmond.
“It’s up to you how you’d like to proceed.” Desmond entwined his fingers in front of him as he continued, “All the Brotherhood wishes is to see if you will make the right choice.”
“The ‘right’ choice.” Richard repeated, his lips curving into a smile filled with confidence, bordering on arrogance. He closed the journal as he commented, “It seems to me that the ‘right’ choice would be a choice that would give both you and Saladin time to fortify your defenses and make your own plans.”
“We are not allied with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.” Desmond calmly stated before shrugging, “Besides, I believe he will be busy as well, cleaning-”
Oh shit. Would he understand if Desmond used this phrase?
Fuck it.
If he asked, Desmond would just try to explain it…
“… house.” Desmond finished and he just knew what he said was more awkward than it should have been.
“Ah. Are the three of us going to be busy cleaning house then?” Richard asked.
Desmond just shrugged instead of answering.
He was just glad that Richard understood what it meant. Also… it wasn’t necessarily right in the first place.
Alamut had already cleaned their house. All that was left for them to do was to gather all the trash and throw them to the bin.
“You are an interesting person, Prince Desmond.” Richard commented, hiding the journal underneath his armor. He raised his left hand and the knight to his left stared at it for a moment before walking towards Desmond.
Desmond watched as the knight kept a blank expression while offering him a coin.
“If you give that to any of my trusted advisors, they will help you reach me.” Richard explained as Desmond accepted the coin.
It was a silver coin with a lion engraved on one side and a cross on the other.
“I’m certain you know which of my advisors can be trusted.” Richard commented with a smile.
“I can make an educated guess.” Desmond answered honestly. The Brotherhood only looked into the ones that profited on Rashid’s orders after all. That didn’t mean those who didn’t were clean or trustworthy.
“Such a humble man, you are. Truly a shame that you cannot be persuaded to take a second wife.” Richard said in an almost teasing manner.
Desmond didn’t even have a ‘first’ wife.
God, he wanted to leave five minutes ago.
“Even if you do not wish for an alliance, you’re in quite a valuable position right now. Or maybe I should say…” His smile grew as he said, “You will come into a more valuable position soon.”
Either he was insinuating that Desmond was going to become the mentor or he was talking about Rashid getting ‘fired’.
Probably the latter.
Either way, Desmond wasn’t going to say anything to confirm or deny it.
“How do you feel about mediating between me and Saladin?” Richard asked.
“I’ll talk to my father about it. In the meantime…” Desmond politely smiled at him as he suggested, “It might be better if you practice saying Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s name correctly first.”
Chapter 103
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
“Markos has a fourth safehouse?” Desmond whistled as he looked around the dingy house that looked sturdy enough.
Smelled awful though.
“Is Markos’ family actually rich or something?” Desmond commented as he backed away from a suspicious looking stain.
“From what I hear, Markos just knows which houses are not occupied due to…” Altaïr looked at the same stain on the wall that Desmond was staring at as he continued, “… circumstances.”
That word could mean a lot of things. A tyrannical self-proclaimed ruler that let his so-called soldiers pillage and raid certainly made it easy for certain ‘circumstances’ to spring up in every nook and cranny in Cyprus.
Still… Cyprus, as a whole, looked better than when Desmond had been here.
‘Better’ was relative though.
“I’m honestly worried we might get some kind of disease staying here.” Desmond commented with a frown.
“Markos assured me this one was abandoned because it was supposed to be ‘haunted’.” Altaïr said in his usual tone but Desmond knew that the man he loved absolutely thought the entire thing was ridiculous.
“How scary.” Desmond sarcastically said as he walked towards Altaïr, looking around. There were a lot of holes in the walls that could just as easily create ‘whispers’ whenever a gust of wind passed by. Not to mention, the entire home creaked.
Even when he and Altaïr weren’t moving, it still creaked.
If he had to guess, there was a high possibility the ‘sturdy’ part that he first thought of was only hiding rotting wood or even…
Termite-infected wood.
‘Haunted’ would be a better alternative.
He looked down at the flooring as he asked, “So, it’s here then?”
“The ones I deemed most important, yes.” Altaïr crouched and lifted part of the flooring, showing Desmond a simple box made of some kind of metal.
At least, it was metal.
Termites would have a hard time trying to get inside… if there were termites in this house.
Desmond honestly wasn’t sure.
Altaïr raised his head as he continued, “There were more books, parchments and artifacts than we anticipated but it’s still within the parameters of our plan.”
“Wait.” Desmond frowned as he asked, “Artifacts? Not like expensive objects but actual ‘artifacts’?”
“Most of them seemed be just gold and jewelry but there were a few like that glowed gold like this…” Altaïr covered the box with the flooring once more before standing. He took out something that looked like a coin with a hole in the middle and handed it to Desmond.
“Well… now you’re just fucking with me.” Desmond mumbled, recognizing it immediately.
Altaïr tilted his head as he said, “I’m going to assume you’re complaining to ‘fate’ or perhaps the ‘universe’ and not to me.”
“And you’d be right.” Desmond agreed, unable to stop himself from grinning at how easy it was for Altaïr to understand him. He lifted the ‘coin’ up to look at it closer and noticed the difference.
“Remember how I told you that there’s two necessary keys to open the Grand Temple?”
Altaïr nodded as he recounted, “An Apple of Eden and another key that looks like a coin…”
Altaïr’s brows furrowed as he asked, “Are you saying that the supposed ‘key’ that Minerva told you we wouldn’t need just so happened to fall into our hands?”
“At first I did think that but…” Desmond turned the key to look at the other side before continuing, “This isn’t it. I mean… at first glance, it looks like it but this is a different one.”
Desmond returned the key to Altaïr with a frown, “I’m 80% sure, anyway.”
Altaïr tilted his head and Desmond answered his silent question, “As far as I can remember, the key the Grand Temple needed should have a green snake eating its own tail. That one doesn’t have any snake at all.”
Instead, there was some kind of horse with a fish tail instead.
“Maybe it’s similar? That’s why it glowed gold?” Altaïr suggested as he blinked, eyes glowing as he activated his Eagle Vision.
Desmond could guess that the coin still glowed gold in his eyes and agreed with Altaïr’s Eagle Vision, “It should still be gold, yeah. It’s too similar to the key I remembered so that’s definitely an artifact of some kind from Minerva’s time.”
Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he mused, “Probably some kind of key as well but not for the Grand Temple.”
“Another temple then.” Altaïr blinked to deactivate his Eagle Vision and returned the key to one of his pouches, “We’ll have an idea of where once we can look over the books and parchments.”
Desmond nodded in agreement. To be completely honest, Desmond had an idea of what this key could be.
Considering how the Apple Ezio would later take from the Templars came from Cyprus, Desmond always felt that Cyprus was connected to it in some way.
He didn’t necessarily believe that the Apple itself was hiding in Cyprus. No way. If it was, Altaïr should have gotten two Apples during his tenure as the mentor in the original timeline.
So Desmond assumed there had to be a clue or something here.
He expected documents detailing Templar history and future plans.
He wasn’t expecting an actual artifact from Minerva’s people hiding among the ‘riches’ the Templars accumulated.
Even if this didn’t lead to the actual Apple that would find its way to Venice centuries from now, it would still lead to another temple.
“We’ll proceed as plan then.” Desmond stated as he crossed his arms, “We’ll return to Akka while…”
“Another team retrieves everything we took in secret.” Altaïr finished with a nod.
It was a plan they talked about before landing on Cyprus.
All Desmond remembered was that there was some kind of library or repository underneath Limassol Castle. Taking everything in there before the Templars realized what was happening had been their secret objective.
To do that, Desmond had to take the limelight, ensuring everyone was focused on him while Altaïr and the other Assassins stationed here in Cyprus took everything from this secret location.
And Altaïr had another secret mission.
While Desmond was waiting for the perfect time to assassinate his target, Altaïr had to find the location of this secret archive and retrieve whatever he deemed most important before the other Assassins joined him.
At first, that was why Desmond let Aquila stay with Altaïr, to help him together with Maud. Aquila would be able to send him a message if Altaïr needed with help. But now that they were on the final phase of their secret mission, Aquila would stay with Markos.
In case of an emergency, Desmond could connect to Aquila and instruct Markos and the other Assassins.
The fact that Aquila could also alert Desmond if the others figured out Altaïr’s secret mission was a bonus.
Desmond didn’t necessarily distrust Markos and the others but he was trying his best to mitigate the future obsession the Brotherhood would have with these relics from the past.
Speaking of which…
“Where’s Aquila and Maud?” Desmond asked as he crouched.
Altaïr crouched as well and lifted the flooring as he said, “Maud refuses to come near here. The stench offends her.”
Desmond hummed as he began to shovel the dirt around the box and place them on top using his hands. Altaïr began to help while continuing, “Aquila is with the others.”
Desmond closed his eyes and connected with Aquila. He closed the connection and sighed as he shook his head, “They’re giving him food.”
Altaïr’s lips twitched but he said nothing. Once the box was completely covered in dirt, Desmond placed the flooring on top once more and looked at his dirty hands, “We should wash up.”
“There’s a well nearby.” Altaïr paused before adding, “Or we can just wash up at the port. Didn’t you wish to leave this island as soon as possible?”
“Absolutely.” Desmond sighed as they both stood.
“Your meeting with the Christian king went well then.” Altaïr joked in that serious tone of his.
“It probably ranks around my top 5 worst meetings of all time.” Desmond joked back. He reached out but stopped when he remembered how dirty his hands were. Instead, he bumped his shoulder against Altaïr as he said, “Come on. I’ll fill you in while we get to the port.”
The port was in total chaos by the time they got there. Many of the ships were trying to sail out of Cyprus as fast as they could so it was easy to slip into one of them.
All these ships were sailing out because they were worried of what the crusaders would do to them. After all, many of them had some dealings with the self-proclaimed ruler that Desmond just assassinated.
That meant they weren’t exactly in the crusaders’ good graces.
Their skills as Assassins helped keep them from everyone’s eyes as well.
To be completely honest, they just hid with the cargo in complete darkness. People rarely check the cargo bay and, even if they did, there was enough boxes and sheets for them to use.
“Altaïr…” Desmond whispered in the darkness that was completely gray thanks to their Eagle Vision.
“Hm?” Altaïr hummed next to Desmond, his shoulder and the side of his thigh pressed against Desmond’s.
“Is it weird that I don’t want to have sex with you here?”
“No.” Altaïr answered immediately, turning to glare at something to their right, “The cargo hold isn’t exactly a good place for that.”
“Stop glaring at the chickens. It’s not their fault they have an upset stomach.” Desmond said lightly. Altaïr just leaned towards him, resting the side of his head on Desmond’s shoulder.
“What brought such a question?” Altaïr asked, his tone both curious and relaxed at the same time.
Desmond rested the side of his head against Altaïr’s, feeling his hair tickling his skin. Desmond closed his eyes as he answered, “Well… we’re in a dark place all alone. Isn’t this usually the kind of place people have sex in?”
He didn’t have to see Altaïr’s face to know that what he had just said made Altaïr furrow his brows in confusion. He grinned when he heard Altaïr ask, “Is that what people in your time do in this kind of place?”
Desmond pondered how to answer that for a moment.
Well… people did have sex in airplanes?
That sorta counted as something similar?
Maybe?
“According to movies, I guess?” Desmond answered instead. It wasn’t like he personally knew anyone who had sex in some kind of public transportation, after all.
Now that he thought about it, the whole ‘have sex in the ship’s cargo’ probably came from one of the movies or tv shows he watched back then.
Desmond wasn’t even sure why that was his first thought. He was probably just so bored at the moment that he thought of the most ridiculous of things.
“What’s a movie?” Altaïr asked.
Well…
He supposed he wasn’t going to bored any time soon now.
“Hey, Hamaal.”
“What’s wrong with your voice?” Hamaal asked before turning his gaze on Altaïr.
“It’s not that.” Desmond dryly said, even though he knew that his voice sounded raspy as hell.
“Really? Because I’ve been watching over the port since Aquila came to find me. It really impresses me how easy it is for me to figure out that he was trying to tell me that the ship you two were on will be landing here in Akka . More importantly…” Hamaal raised an eyebrow as he asked, “I know you two went straight to this roof as soon as you can slip out of ship.”
Hamaal waved a hand over the two of them as he continued, “This means whatever you two ‘did’ for you to sound like your throat had an intense workout had to have happen either in Cyprus or in the ship.”
“I told Altaïr stories to pass the time, dumbass.” Desmond said without any bite. If anything, dumbass was more of an affectionate nickname in his mind.
“Oh, did he tell you about the ‘Luke, I am your father’ one?” Hamaal asked Altaïr, “That one got us all running laps all over Alamut.”
“Why?” Altaïr asked with a tilt of his head.
“Because our reactions were apparently ‘too loud’ according to Oded.” Hamaal explained before chuckling as he shook his head, “Good times.”
Good times, indeed.
Telling stories of the movies he watched to his friends had been one of Desmond’s favorite memories as a recruit. Hell, he used to tell stories to Jalāl as well and his younger brother would tell them to Kāve and Zain.
He hoped that Jalāl was doing okay…
Kāve tended to sneak him honeyed bread whenever he was sulking. Desmond should have reminded Zain to keep an eye on that sweet tooth before he left.
He felt Altaïr press his shoulder against his, pulling him away from his wandering thoughts. He bumped his shoulder against Altaïr’s as a silent thank you before nodding at Hamaal.
“So… were you just waiting for us or…?” Desmond let his sentence hang, knowing his friend would inform him the real reason why he was at the docks.
“I’m here to report to you. I figured you wouldn’t want the Rafiq to hear this.” Hamaal leaned against the wall behind him before starting, “Peredur’s infiltrated the Knights Hospitaller as planned and has sowed enough discord among them that they’ve commandeered a ship.”
He pointed at direction of the port as he continued, “That one with the red sails.”
The ship Hamaal pointed out wasn’t all that big and could probably be sailed by a skeleton crew if necessary.
“They’re meeting King Richard in Cyprus to tell him about Naplouse.” Hamaal continued, “As part of the plan, the sailors helping them were hired by us beforehand.”
A service Desmond paid for using the ‘blood’ money from those damn books.
“Aquila.” Desmond called out as he raised his arm. One of the two eagles that had been flying above them landed on his arm and tilted his head at Desmond.
“I need you to join Peredur on that ship and guide him to thathouse, okay?”
Aquila nodded before tapping his arm lightly twice.
Desmond smiled fondly as he took out two strips of dry meat that Aquila happily gobbled up. He scratched the side of Aquila’s neck as he said, “Assist Peredur to the best of your ability and alert me if anything happens, okay? I’ll give you more when you return.”
Aquila puffed his chest and rubbed against Desmond’s fingers before flying off.
The plan was to rile the Knights Hospitaller enough that they’d unknowingly become a smoke screen for the other Assassins in Cyprus. The ship Peredur hired would be loyal to him and they’d use it to sail out of Cyprus with the other Assassins and everything they confiscated from the secret Templar archives.
Markos insisted that he was going to stay behind since someone had to remain in Cyprus to keep an eye on things.
Desmond agreed only because he trusted Markos’ judgment.
The worst case scenario was that Peredur would have to sail out of Cyprus with the Assassins only. They weren’t exactly sure just how tightly the crusaders would cordon off Cyprus for now, after all.
The lives of their brothers were more important than whatever treasure trove they’d taken from the Templars.
“Anything else?” Desmond asked Hamaal.
“Everyone’s in position. We’re only waiting for the ones who’d go to Masyaf for the monthly report.” Hamaal continued, “As far as we can tell, none of the Rafiqs have an idea on what’s happening. Or…”
Hamaal rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “Maybe they already know something’s going to happen and they’re keeping their heads down.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Altaïr commented as he stared at the port, “We need to investigate them as well. They took orders from Rashid directly. How can we be sure they didn’t know of Rashid’s misuse of his power?”
“The investigation and judgment of each Rafiq will fall under the next leadership of Masyaf.” Desmond stated solemnly, “It has to. If we also investigate and judge the Rafiqs, many would believe we’re undermining Masyaf.”
Undermining Masyaf was something Alamut could, technically, do because Masyaf had always been meant to be under Alamut, after all. But that wasn’t how many Assassins in Masyaf were raised. If Alamut wasn’t careful, Rashid’s removal could trigger a civil war between them because their actions could be considered as aggressive.
That was why Desmond made sure that the council in Masyaf would take over in a ‘clean up your own mess’ type of compromise.
Trying to push Masyaf under them would only cause dangerous backlash.
Masyaf must remain independent.
Desmond was fine with slowly fostering a partnership between Alamut and Masyaf instead.
That meant less paperwork for him too which was just a bonus.
“Either way, the Rafiqs are keeping their heads down to not get roped into whatever’s about to happen.” Hamaal steered the conversation back to his report, “I think we can safely say they won’t be a problem for now.”
Desmond nodded in agreement while Altaïr sat at the edge of the roof, continuing to stare at the port.
Desmond glanced at where he was staring at specifically and noticed it was the red ship that Peredur was using with the Knights Hospitaller. Aquila was already sitting at the very top of the mast. A quick brief connection gave Desmond a feeling of boredom and his lips twitched.
Aquila could just follow the ship once it set sail but he took Desmond’s request to keep an eye on Peredur to heart, it seemed.
“Yeah, let’s not antagonize the Rafiqs by being too suspicious of them. Just keep your distance as usual.” Desmond ordered lightly, earning a nod from Hamaal.
“Other than that, I received this from one of our brothers traveling between here and Jerusalem.” Hamaal said as he handed Desmond a folded piece of paper.
It was written in code.
A very specific code…
Your father knows you ran away with the stable boy. Don’t come here.
It was from Kasim.
He was requesting Desmond and Altaïr come to Jerusalem.
Chapter 104
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Going to Jerusalem was the easy part.
Making sure none of the informants or other Assassins saw them while they made their way to the safe house nearest to the temple was the hard part.
Normally, Desmond would just go and meet with the Rafiq. He was the next mentor of Alamut so there was no reason to tell the Rafiq anything but it was common practice that Assassins pay the bureau a visit whenever possible. The Rafiq was there to support the Assassins in their missions and to coordinate with the informants. Most of the time, the Rafiq would be the one to decide which informants should know about the visiting Assassins. Sometimes, it was safer for certain informants if the Assassin did not contact them or even know of their existence, after all.
But no one in Jerusalem was supposed to know that Kasim was an Assassin. He had even been using a glove with a fake wooden finger underneath to help keep it a secret.
Even if Desmond was to make some excuse, eyes would definitely be following his every move (to the best of their abilities, of course). Even the slightest chance of Kasim’s true allegiance being found out was a consequence that Desmond could not accept.
Kasim was meant to keep a low profile while checking the movements of the crusaders around Jerusalem, that was all.
Kasim was only supposed to send a message to Desmond if it was an emergency.
Any kind of emergency concerning Jerusalem and the temple…
Yeah.
Desmond wasn’t going to risk Rashid learning about it.
So they had to be quiet about this.
They traversed during the middle of the day. Sure, night was the best time to sneak around but the Brotherhood would also be familiar with such a move.
This time of day when the sun was barreling down on them was their best bet for going under the radar.
They had to be careful so, by the time they reached the safehouse, the sun was already setting.
Maud was outside Jerusalem. By this point, everyone in the Brotherhood knew that Desmond was accompanied by an eagle. Even if Aquila was off assisting Peredur in Cyprus, the Assassins in Jerusalem would definitely be wary of any eagles flying above.
It was ironic that their eagle companions had to be more worried about Assassins than Templars.
Instead of going for the front door, they slipped inside using the window on the second floor, keeping their Eagle Vision active.
They could hear muffled sounds coming from downstairs…
And Desmond was already dreading what awaited them because…
That was the sound of someone trying to speak even though they were currently gagged.
Their Vision showed them parts of the flooring that glowed a light red glow. Some kind of danger…
Like parts that would give away their position by creaking.
Because of this, they were able to navigate their way to the stairs with Altaïr taking the lead, right hand resting on the hilt of the sword that Desmond had gifted him while he had a knife coated with poison in his left hand.
Well…
It was more of a kind of fast acting sleeping concoction.
Desmond, on the other hand, wasn’t holding any knives but he was resting his hand on the hilt of his own sword.
Better safe than sorry, after all.
They reached the first floor soon enough and Desmond had to blink because never, in his entire life, would he have expected to see such a thing.
Maria was on the floor with her arms and legs wrapped in tight rope. It was a bit comedic to be completely honest because of how much of an overkill it was.
Desmond could only think of calling this technique as ‘rope mummy’.
Malik was sitting at the other side of the room, covering his face with both of his hands and looking like he had been given the most arduous of tasks by a higher being of some kind.
And Kasim…
Kasim bowed at them as he said, “Thank you for coming, Desmond.”
He nodded at Altaïr in silent greeting before turning to face Maria who was glaring at him from her spot on the floor, “This is a knight under Robert de Sable. She had been ordered to take out certain key personnel that we were keeping an eye on.”
She tried to say anything but it only came out as a mumble.
Desmond could guess she was insulting them or something.
He wanted to sigh.
He didn’t forget about Maria and, to be completely honest, he had always been torn on what to do about her.
He knew that Maria would be caught in the crossfire once King Richard started his spring cleaning but there was a part of Desmond that believed she would survive and make the right choice.
Just like she did in the original timeline.
But now…
It seemed that her fate was truly closely tied with Altaïr, no matter what Desmond did.
This wasn’t Desmond going ‘woe is me!’ though. He trusted Altaïr too much to even think that Maria would be able to drive a wedge between them.
Not to mention…
Maria wasn’t that kind of person.
“So you detained her to stop her from killing them?” Desmond asked curiously.
Now, there were no tears spilled if the people they were keeping an eye on were to be killed. There was enough evidence to order for their assassination, after all.
They were kept alive because Desmond knew Rashid would know something was up if they started dying.
That was why he was doing it the roundabout way and getting Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn and King Richard involved.
The Brotherhood would have started to assassinate them one by one and Rashid would have caught on. But those two rulers?
They would be discrete about this. After all, if people found out that there was a third party undermining their rule, it would be a huge blow to the image of absolute control and dominance that they were trying to keep up.
“No. We’re hiding her because she’s being hunted by her own people.” Kasim explained, earning a glare from Maria who probably had something to say about the whole ‘hiding’ part of that sentence.
“They want her dead?” Desmond asked with a frown.
While Desmond didn’t exactly remember everything, he was sure that Robert trusted Maria. She only fell out of the Order’s good graces after Robert died.
“They suspect she has something to do with the destruction of one of the warehouses the crusaders use.” Kasim glanced at her before continuing, “Its destruction caused soldiers to look into what happened in the warehouse and…”
Kasim glanced at Malik. Malik didn’t move so Kasim turned to look back at Desmond as he said, “I was the one who blew up the warehouse.”
Maria’s shouting was muffled by the gag around her mouth but Desmond could imagine what she was trying to say.
“While she is a crusader and she is working for Robert de Sablé, I-” He paused before correcting himself, “We deemed that it would not be fair if she was to be killed because of our actions.”
Desmond and Altaïr exchanged looks.
If he understood what Kasim wasn’t saying, he and Malik saved Maria because they believed she was ‘innocent’ in a way.
Desmond couldn’t ignore the possibility that a big reason (but not the only reason) why they saved her was because she was a woman though.
He could totally see the two of them hunting her down to assassinate her before she ‘tattled’ on how the explosion was the work of an Assassin and then changing their minds when they saw that she was a woman.
Sounds sexist for sure but it kept Maria alive so Desmond wasn’t going to poke them about that.
He’d just schedule a sparring match against Adha when they get back.
In front of Kasim’s younger sister…
Yeah.
That would be a better alternative.
“Okay… sooooo…” Desmond stared at Maria who was trying to drill a hole on Kasim’s head as he crossed his arms, “Why did you call for us?”
“Ah, yes.” Kasim rubbed the back of his neck before looking at Malik, “Malik Al-Sayf has letters from the Basilisk’s allies that talks about Rashid being a Templar.”
Malik dropped his hands and stood, silently offering a stack of letters to Desmond. Kasim nudged him and Malik frowned as he said, “We were supposed to send you a message about this earlier but Alamut was isolated from the rest of the world last year.”
The strange weather phenomenon.
Yeah.
Desmond could see why that forced Malik and Kasim to sit on these letters until now.
“How did you know we weren’t in Alamut anymore, by the way?” Desmond asked Kasim while taking the letters, wondering if there was some kind of leak on their side.
“Amir is stationed here in Jerusalem and he informed me of the plan.” Kasim answered like he was reporting to Desmond and continued as Desmond skimmed through the letters, “He’s in the bureau right now, pretending to be keeping an eye on the Rafiq because ‘Alamut has vested interest in ensuring Rashid learns his lesson’.”
Malik’s brows furrowed but he didn’t say anything.
It must be hard to hear his master being talked down like this but Desmond wasn’t going to coddle him. Instead, he stared at Malik as he asked, “What do you want to do?”
Malik looked surprised by the question and Desmond couldn’t blame him.
Being asked what he wanted to do must be a foreign concept to Malik.
“This will help drag Rashid off his throne but the legitimacy of these letters would be put into question. Unless…” Desmond offered the letters back as he said, “You admit that you were the one who found these. You’re a trusted Master Assassin in Masyaf and your loyalty has never been questioned. Your words hold weight.”
Desmond’s face darkened as he warned, “Of course, the fact that your father and brother are both in Alamut is all the opposition needs to smear your name. If you do come out and help us accuse Rashid, those who are fully under Rashid’s control would drag you through the mud. It won’t be pretty.”
“The life of an Assassin is never pretty.” Malik commented calmly before saying, “It is my duty as an Assassin to do what’s right.”
“But you don’t have to feel such pain.” Desmond said, “Even without these, we have enough evidence against Rashid.”
“So you don’t need these?” Malik asked with eyes silently challenging Desmond to say no.
“It would be better if we did but we will win even if we don’t.” Desmond answered. He placed a hand on Malik’s shoulder as he said, “Malik, think about what you want after this is all over. If you help us, many in Masyaf would see you as a man who would turn against his own brother at a drop of a hat. Even if others would know that you are not that kind of person, it is still a lonely path to take. Of course, if you want, I can help you transfer to Alamut and live with your family. But…”
Desmond smiled as he said, “I know that you don’t want to abandon Masyaf so… you don’t have to help us.”
Malik stared at him for a moment before pushing the letters towards him, “I made up my mind the day I got these. I will not be a coward who hides the truth to live a peaceful life.”
Malik stepped back as he continued, “And you’re right. As much as I wish to be with my family, Masyaf needs me more than they do. Father was born and raised in Alamut. It’s only right that he lives the rest of his life in a place filled with happy memories instead of the stressful life he held in Masyaf. And Kadar…”
Malik turned to stare at Altaïr and a small resigned smile decorated his face as he continued, “He has all the right to go where he wants. If he wishes to dig his roots in Alamut then, as his older brother, the only right I have is the right to accept his decision and watch from afar.”
“I will do what I must as an Assassin of our Brotherhood, not as a soldier of Rashid.” Malik announced and Desmond could hear the hesitance in his tone when he said Rashid’s name.
It wasn’t that he was hesitating over going against Rashid.
He just wasn’t used to calling Rashid by his name.
“Very well then.” Desmond placed the letters into one of his pouches as he said, “Find Amir and tell him I sent for you. Tell him this: ‘I had to change my shoes because I stepped on horseshit’. As long as you say it exactly as I just did, he’ll let you join their team.”
It was truly impressive how Malik could show how unamused he was just by giving Desmond a look. Hell, even Maria was giving him a similar look that was mixed with what he could only describe as ‘what kind of bullshit code is that?’. Desmond sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “Look, I didn’t make the secret code, okay? Hamaal made it. If you want to complain about how embarrassing or stupid it sounds, go complain to him.”
That was the point though.
Codes were usually cryptic or mysterious sounding.
Desmond once (just ONCE!!!) wondered if that didn’t make it easier to figure out that someone was trying to send a message.
Because of this, Hamaal thought of a ‘normal’ code that they could use instead.
What counted as normal was debatable though but…
It led to different kinds of codes being passed around Alamut.
Gone were the usual ‘say the 3rd line of this specific poem’ or ask some cryptic bullshit.
Instead, they were using codes like “I woke up early because my cat sat on my face” or “I’ve been eating nothing but fish for a week now”.
In all honesty, Desmond was just glad that this mission’s secret code wasn’t something like “I dropped my bread this morning” or “Did you hear about what happened at the marketplace?”
No.
Scratch that.
“Did you hear about what happened at the marketplace?” was a better secret code, hands down.
The fact that it was no longer used because it felt too normal and might cause confusion if it was a genuine question or the code phrase was one of the worst things Desmond heard in his years as an Assassin of Alamut.
“What do you plan to do with her then?” Altaïr’s voice brought Desmond out of his spiraling thoughts and they all turned to stare at Maria who started spouting something behind her gag while glaring at them.
Desmond really didn’t like the sound of that question.
Both Kasim and Malik looked at each other and their expressions reflected one another.
It was a look of two people who were trying to do the right thing but had absolutely no idea how to proceed after step 1: kidnap a Templar because she turned out to be a woman.
Hell.
Desmond didn’t even know if he could suggest anything to the two.
“Okay, let’s take a step back and review what we know about the situation.” It took all of his willpower not to sigh. They did the right thing but, really, it was telling of how unfamiliar they were with dealing with a woman who could kick their ass that they needed Desmond’s help.
Hell.
That they were willing to get Altaïr’s.
“The people trying to kill her. Are they Templars or soldiers under Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn?” Desmond asked.
“We’re not sure.” Malik answered after he and Kasim glanced at one another. He spoke in the same way he would report to a Rafiq, “We think it’s her people because it’s strange that they want to kill her instead of taking her in for questioning but we cannot be completely sure if they are part of the Templar Order or not. They do don the garbs of Saracen soldiers.”
“I see…” Desmond thought about it for a moment.
The best case scenario would be to save Maria and take her away from the Templar Order before King Richard starts his ‘spring cleaning’.
However, Desmond knew that Maria was too stubborn. She’d just run back to Robert de Sablé. There was no reason for her to believe that Robert ordered her death.
Well…
Maybe he could push a few pieces in place for her to realize that she’d been hung out to dry?
Okay then.
Desmond walked towards Maria and crouched in front of her. He raised his arms in a surrender kind of gesture as he said, “I’m going to take off your gag so we can talk, okay? All you have to do is talk to me and then I’ll let you go afterwards.”
Kasim stepped back and placed his hands behind his back as Desmond expected. It was a silent show that Kasim was accepting Desmond as a higher ranking Assassin who had taken over the mission.
Or, as Desmond saw it, Kasim was quietly letting Desmond take care of their mess.
He wasn’t going to rub it all over Kasim’s face though. He was just glad that Kasim accepted his help.
Malik glanced at Altaïr first before stepping back as well and, honestly, Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if Malik looked at Altaïr as a way to gauge if Desmond normally did something like this.
No.
Desmond normally didn’t.
But…
Altaïr was also his best cheerleader and worst enabler so Malik was looking for a sign that would never appear in the first place.
The worst part was that Desmond was Altaïr’s best cheerleader and worst enabler as well.
Thankfully, Maria nodded so Desmond gently untied her gag.
The moment the fabric was off her mouth, she spat, “I’ll kill you all.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Desmond dryly said with a nod. She must have thought he was insulting her because she growled at him. Desmond rested his hands on his knees as he asked, “So… do you know if the one after your head is a fellow Templar or is this a ‘kill on sight’ order from the Saracens?”
“If you think you drive a wedge between me and my comrades, you are solely mistaken, Prince Desmond.”
Man.
Desmond was impressed on how she could sound so angry yet still polite.
Must be because she believed Desmond was royalty.
Ah, shit. He was royalty.
He really didn’t need to be reminded by that.
“Okay, then. Let’s say your death has been ordered by the Saracens, don’t you think it’s weird that they want you dead immediately?” Desmond asked curiously, “If I was in charge, I’d order your arrest because I can think of at least 2 questions I want to ask the supposed perpetrator that blew up one of the buildings under my jurisdiction. Not to mention…”
Desmond stared at the red cross on her chest, “Your allegiance is clear as day. Jerusalem, as far as the general populace is concerned, is under the protection of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn. The fact that you’re brazen enough to walk the streets wearing such armor shows there’s a big gap in security. If anything…”
Desmond made a slicing motion towards his neck as he said lightly, “The person in charge of security and those that had a hand in ‘helping’ you enter Jerusalem should be on the chopping block. I would only have information about either of them if I take you in alive.”
Maria didn’t say anything but she still continued to glare at Desmond.
That was fine.
He knew that she understood the logic behind Desmond’s words.
“So how about it, Maria Thorpe?” Desmond smiled at her as he asked, “Wanna make a bet with me?”
Chapter 105
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Desmond was a bit surprised to hear that Majd Addin was already the acting ruler of Jerusalem. Apparently, Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn wasn’t here at the moment and there were a lot of rumors about where he could be.
He could be waiting near Acre, preparing to take control before King Richard could consolidate his forces.
He could be somewhere near Masyaf, planning to subjugate the meddlesome Assassins before focusing on the crusaders in their lands.
Hell, Desmond even heard he could be in Cairo for some reason or another.
No one truly knew where the hell the man was in the first place and the rumor mill was overworking itself, every new rumor becoming more and more outlandish than the last.
Desmond was quite sure that wherever he was, he was planning to do something that would fuck with Majd Addin. Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn already received Desmond’s gift, after all. That man was too smart not to take care of his internal affairs first before dealing with the enemies outside his sphere of influence.
Desmond’s real question was if Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn gave Majd Addin this much power early on this year in the original time and that was the reason why the Templars could dig underneath the temple without any real problems or if this was because that man was letting Majd Addin run wild to trap him later on.
Either way, it worked in Desmond’s favor.
The bet was simple. Desmond and Altaïr would help Maria contact Majd Addin. Since Majd Addin was a Templar under Robert like her, she should be able to get some help from the acting regent of Jerusalem.
… if he didn’t order her death, of course.
It was truly tragic how much Maria believed that Majd Addin would help her. No matter how small the doubt in her mind was, she seemed to be consoling herself with the idea that, if Majd Addin did order her death, he did it without the approval of Robert.
Her loyalty was wasted on the Templar Order.
But it wasn’t like Desmond was hoping she would turn her loyalty to him. The only thing he wanted to do was to take Maria off the board before she got herself into danger.
Kasim was not allowed to help because he was not even supposed to be an Assassin. Malik, on the other hand, left to meet with Amir.
Malik only nodded at Altaïr which, in all honesty, was probably the funniest thing Desmond had seen since they left Alamut.
There was just something about how awkward the two of them were with one another that tickled Desmond.
Desmond and Altaïr stayed in the safe house with Kasim for a few minutes to give Malik a bit of time before they continue with the bet.
Just enough time that people wouldn’t think that Malik had any time to contact Desmond in Jerusalem.
They’d have to prepare for the possibility that Malik’s actions would get to Rashid’s ears before they made their move but Desmond believed Amir would have that covered.
“So… even the great Brotherhood is fractured.” Maria commented in that polite but insulting tone that Desmond never knew she had.
“We just have a festering wound that needs to be cut off.” Desmond commented lightly as he flipped through the letters Malik gave him.
He did it to pass the time but, oh boy, these ones were definitely painting Rashid in a bad light.
Hell, three of them were even talking about how Rashid joined Robert’s side to overwhelm the faction under the Basilisk. There were even a list of Basilisk supporters that were assassinated under Rashid’s orders.
It didn’t say that Rashid became a Templar to join Robert’s side. For all they knew he could have already been a goddamn traitor long before the internal power struggle of the Templar Order began.
What it did specify was that Rashid backed Robert up in the Frenchman’s bid to take the title of Grandmaster.
If Desmond was to compare that to how Templars and supporters under Robert’s were still alive, it wouldn’t explicitly call Rashid a traitor but the picture it’d paint couldn’t be ignored.
Either Rashid let them live because it benefited him in some way or he didn’t even notice their glaring misconducts and abuse of power which would bring into question his ability as the mentor.
The fact that he didn’t let the ones siding with the Basilisk live and ordered their deaths only served to point to the former.
Speaking of which…
“Did you know that Rashid was one of you?” Desmond asked curiously as he placed the letters back in his pouch.
“He betrayed us.” Maria answered with a growl, “That man has no honor.”
Well…
Considering how he thought of poison as the coward’s way, one could argue that Rashid did have some form of honor.
It just so happened that his idea of honor was easily thrown to the ground and stomped on if it meant that he’d acquire more power.
“None of us are truly as honorable as the knights in the stories.” Desmond commented, frowning slightly when he realized that he sounded like he was defending Rashid. He turned to look at Maria as he added, “Both our Brotherhood and your Order.”
Maria glared at him but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. If she said that they were honorable, Desmond could just as easily ask her why she was ‘assassinating’ her own people. Wasn’t that very action dishonorable?
They both knew that and Maria wasn’t going to argue with him about it.
He knew her enough to know that she harbored doubts in her heart but, as long as she didn’t acknowledge it out loud, she could ignore its very existence.
In some way, that was Desmond’s coping mechanism back when he was a bartender.
Anything he couldn’t joke about, he ignored.
If he didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t exist.
His hesitance to use Abstergo products. The way his eyes would flicker all around the room to check for cameras and possible exits.
Those feelings and habits didn’t exist if he didn’t acknowledge them.
“How did you know my name?” Maria’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.
“We’ve been investigating everyone that profited from Rashid’s orders. You know… like your boss who became the Grandmaster because Basilisk’s ‘friends’ were assassinated.” Desmond answered, not really minding that he was giving such vital information to her. Kasim glanced at him but said nothing and gave nothing away.
If Maria saw it, she would have probably thought that Kasim was just glancing around the room in general. He’d been doing it every few minutes. It was a technique that Assassins honed during training. They needed to keep an eye out all the time, after all.
But Desmond had been around Assassins for more than a decade now. He noticed that Kasim’s eyes lingered on him longer than usual just now.
It was his silent way of being wary of Desmond’s actions.
But he wouldn’t say anything because he was loyal to the Brotherhood and Desmond was his future mentor.
He also wouldn’t show any discontent in front of an enemy.
Altaïr continued to meditate next to him and Desmond knew that he was connected to Maud, scouting the route they would take for their ‘mission’.
“No matter how hard you try to hide who you are, people still talk.” Desmond continued as he folded the letters and returned them to his pouch.
“Do you also think I am Robert’s whore?” Maria asked with such venom in her voice that Desmond could honestly believe that hers were much more potent than the poison they used to coat their blades.
“Oh? So Robert isn’t impotent then?”
Maria spluttered, her cheeks reddening as she said in an unusually high tone, “He’s what?”
That was a joke.
“I mean…” Maria immediately said before Desmond could tell her that he was joking, “It’s not any of our business if he is!”
Hhmmm…
Seeing her reaction made Desmond think that it would be better if she kept believing Robert was impotent.
“Of course. What happens in one’s bedroom is not our concern.” Desmond couldn’t help himself and added, “Or… what doesn’t happen in one’s bedroom.”
Maria looked ready to throttle him, ropes binding her be damned.
Desmond didn’t mind because he saw the way Altaïr’s lips slightly turned upward at Desmond’s awful joke.
Yup. The poor man was definitely in love with him.
Majd Addin was in the poor district of Jerusalem, preparing to conduct one of his so-called trials once again. Of course, the ones he was putting on trials were the poor and defenseless. Desmond remembered this part of Altaïr’s memories.
In the Animus, Altaïr learned of Majd Addin’s cruelty when these so called trials were already called ‘executions’ instead. At that point, Majd Addin had already taken so many lives and driven the people of Jerusalem to fear and paranoia.
But it seemed he was only starting his reign of terror, focusing on the people that could not ask for help from those of higher status than him.
Altaïr had given them a detailed report of where the next trial was to happen and who was supposed to be on trial.
Four people in total.
A thief, a murderer, a heretic and a smuggler.
The thief was just a young boy that picked up an apple that was on the ground near a fruit stall.
The murderer was the widow of a recently departed old man that she had been married to.
The heretic was a Christian monk that had been giving alms to the poor and praying for them.
The smuggler had been selling goods from faraway lands.
All of them had more than ample reasons to defend themselves.
The child didn’t even eat the apple, having been arrested while he was picking it up.
The widow’s husband could have just as easily died of old age.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn allowed everyone to worship whoever they wished in Jerusalem so the Christian monk couldn’t exactly be called a heretic by the laws that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had placed.
And the smuggler was known in the marketplace as a merchant who sold goods from faraway lands and being called a ‘smuggler’ was just a way to justify how his wares were confiscated.
It was ridiculous as hell and…
Desmond was sure that this would be the final day that this disgusting ‘trial’ would ever take place.
Altaïr’s scouting with Maud revealed more people were gathering for this trial. The way they were positioned…
Desmond had a feeling that these ‘people’ were there to take matters in their own hands. He didn’t say anything to Maria though. It would probably distract her from the bet.
He and Altaïr did look at each other while Altaïr was reporting about the influx of people coming to see the trial and he knew that Altaïr had the same guess as him.
It was, after all, the perfect time to cut off the head of a snake before it grew too large.
They said their farewells to Kasim shortly after. Desmond thought it was cute that Altaïr and Kasim only nodded at each other. It was a different kind of friendship than the one he had with his batchmates.
And it made Desmond want to laugh because it didn’t hold any of the awkwardness as the goodbye nods Malik and Altaïr shared a while back.
Honestly, Desmond was just happy that Altaïr had friends other than Kadar now. He just hoped Altaïr’s scholar friends wouldn’t be a bad influence on him.
They encountered no problems going to where Majd Addin was waiting for the trial to start. Maria wasn’t as quick or nimble as them, bogged down by her armor which she refused to remove. She was only willing to compromise with wearing a robe over it.
But what she lacked in mobility, she made up for with her determination and stubbornness. Something that was clear to Altaïr.
“She has the potential to be a good Assassin.” Altaïr commented as they waited for Maria to catch up to them.
“Don’t say that to her face.” Desmond asked with a mirthless smile, “She’ll think you’re insulting her.”
Altaïr hummed and crossed his arms as he asked, “So… did my other self marry her?”
Desmond wasn’t surprised that Altaïr realized it. His smile dropped as he asked back lightly, “What gave it away?”
“You wrote the name Maria Thorpe in your journal.” Altaïr reminded him before turning to face Desmond as he said solemnly, “I don’t feel anything about her. I didn’t suddenly fall in love with her or anything just as ridiculous.”
Desmond didn’t like how Altaïr said it. To be more exact, it did make him a bit happy hearing such a roundabout way that Altaïr loved him too much to fall for anyone else. At the same time, he didn’t want Altaïr to insult her and using the word ‘ridiculous’ felt wrong to hear coming from Altaïr even if Desmond knew that Altaïr didn’t mean it was stupid to love someone like Maria.
“My ancestor didn’t fall in love immediately.” Desmond defended a past that no longer existed, “He fell for her slowly as they learned about one another.”
Altaïr remained quiet for a moment before he nodded, “He must have been happy with her…”
“He was.” Desmond nodded as his lips curved into a small smile.
Altaïr turned to stare back at Maria who was still struggling to climb towards them. He dropped his hands as he said, “I still think he’d be jealous of me if he learned that you love me.”
Desmond blinked at him before letting out a laugh.
He couldn’t even imagine it but…
He bumped his shoulder against Altaïr’s as he said, “Well, even if he says he wants me too, I would say no because…”
“You’re much more handsome than he is.” Desmond joked, making Altaïr chuckle.
They both ignored Maria glaring at them as she finally reached them, having heard Desmond’s joke.
Majd Addin was waiting in a building near the platform where he would execute today’s ‘criminals’, sitting comfortable in one of the rooms overlooking the open space where they were quickly building the execution platform.
“Majd Addin.”
He stood so regally that one could forget that he had started out as a humble scribe and turned to bow, “Lady Maria. Ah, forgive me. Ser Maria. Quite a nice day today, wouldn’t you agree?”
Maria balled her hands into fists at the mocking bow he gave her. Desmond was sure that she had a lot of things to say but he also knew that she would say the words that Desmond told her to say first.
Just as he was sure that she wouldn’t tell Majd Addin that there were two Assassins quietly watching them from behind the door that Majd Addin could no longer see because he was facing Maria.
“I’m not here for such unnecessary pleasantries. I want answers.” She said.
Majd Addin raised an eyebrow and placed both of his hands behind him as he said, “Oh?”
“Is it true what I’ve heard…” Maria paused briefly before repeating the exact words that Desmond asked her to, “Do the Templars wish to use the Apple of Eden for ill? Not to enlighten the people, but to subdue them?”
Desmond knew that she would have many questions.
How did Desmond know about the Apple?
Why did he think that the Order would want to subdue the people they were meant to protect?
None of those mattered to her at the moment though. Desmond knew her enough to know that the very idea that the people she believed were her comrades betraying her beliefs was something she wouldn’t be able to ignore.
She needed answers.
No.
She needed someone to tell her that it was all a lie. A ruse created by the supposedly evil Prince Desmond of Alamut.
Unfortunately for her…
“Ah. I see that you’ve pulled the wool that Robert has put upon your eyes.” Majd Addin didn’t seemed perturbed by anything that Maria said. Instead, he walked towards the window and placed a hand on the sill as he said, “Look at them, Maria. They’re weak. Pathetic. Headless chickens running in every direction without any real thoughts. They need to be led to the proper path.”
He turned to look back at her, “They want to be led. It’s in their very blood.”
He stepped back from the window and waved a hand towards it as he continued, “They want someone to lead them. To coral them to have lives free of worries. Simple lives! That is what the people desire.”
“But our Order was created to protect the people, not rob them of their liberty!” Maria shouted in anger.
“Our Order does not care about liberty, my poor naive Maria.” Majd Addin said in a mocking tone. He turned to look at Maria as he raised his hand, “What we desire… the very reason the Templars exist is to seek order.”
“To put order in this chaotic world.” He curled his fingers into a fist as he continued, “A world where we can lead the people to everlasting peace.”
“That’s not order. To take away the people’s liberty… their freedom… their freewill…” Maria unsheathed her sword as she proclaimed, “That is nothing more than enslavement! What you want is a world where you rule as kings of a kingdom of silent puppets!”
“This is why we told Robert that he coddles you so.” Majd Addin sighed and dropped his hands, “Guards!”
Majd Addin’s brows furrowed when none came but he had no time to say anything because Maria took a step towards him.
“I don’t care if you ordered my death or not anymore.” Maria took a deep breath before proclaiming, “I will atone for my ignorance and destroy this foolish dream of yours with my own hands!”
She charged Majd Addin with the righteous fury of an honorable knight but her steel did not slice through his flesh.
The sound of steel meeting steel resounded all over the room and Maria’s eyes widened as she realized who her opponent was.
“Why?!” She shouted at Desmond as he kicked Majd Addin back.
“You can’t kill him, Maria. That would complicate things.” Desmond said as he pushed Maria’s sword back using his own.
They all heard the loud cry above them and Altaïr rushed to the room, “He’s here.”
The sounds of shouting erupted from the streets and Desmond nodded at Altaïr before saying to Maria, “We need to go. Now.”
Maria opened her mouth to say something but they all heard a loud crash coming from downstairs.
They all knew the sound they heard could only come from someone (or someones) destroying the door on the first floor.
“Go, go, go!” Desmond hurried Maria along and she had enough self-preservation to listen to him. They all jumped out of the room using the only window and made their escape through the rooftops.
“That’s…” Maria didn’t need to finish her sentence.
They all saw the same thing.
It wasn’t a riot.
No.
It was soldiers, arresting the people working for Majd Addin and storming the building where he had been staying.
And in the midst of all that organized chaos was Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
“Come on. We need to leave, now.” Desmond hurried Maria, patting her on the arm before running ahead.
Everywhere they ran, the streets were teeming with soldiers.
They needed to hide in the bureau or leave Jerusalem as soon as they could. Desmond was sure that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn wasn’t just planning to take Majd Addin out today.
No.
It wouldn’t be surprising if Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn locked Jerusalem down just to make sure no rats escaped his purge.
“Altaïr! Desmond!” Kasim ran towards them just as they left the poor district, carrying-
“Oh shit. Don’t tell me…” Desmond’s eyes widened at the small sack that Kasim was carrying.
“I’ll tell you everything later! We need to leave!” Kasim shouted and Desmond could hear a lot of loud angry shouting coming from the direction Kasim came from.
Fuck.
Desmond didn’t need to think all that hard about it.
Kasim was being chased by Templars and those damn Templars were being chased by Saracens under Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s orders.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
When Desmond thought that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn should do his own spring cleaning this time around, he failed to take into account that his spring cleaning might fuck up the Templars’ schedule of retrieving the goddamn Apple.
Kasim looked back briefly before throwing the sack at Desmond as they continued to jump across the rooftops of Jerusalem, “Here! I’ll shake them off and meet you all outside!”
Unfortunately, the sack wasn’t properly tied close, probably because Kasim either nicked it during a skirmish between the two factions or he had been running for his life after taking it himself.
Thankfully, Desmond managed to catch the Apple as it fell out of the sack.
“Desmond?”
Desmond blinked.
The Apple felt heavy in his hand.
But more importantly…
“Lucy?” His voice cracked as the woman he killed all those years ago stood before him, wearing the same clothes she wore when the blade pierced through her stomach.
“Are you okay, Desmond?” Lucy asked as she took a step towards him, making Desmond instinctively step back.
“I think we better take the Apple away from him.” Shaun suggested from behind Lucy and Desmond blinked once more as he recognized both him and Rebecca looking at him.
He remembered this place.
This very time…
He would never forget this day.
He was in the vault underneath the Colosseum…
… on October 10, 2012.
Notes:
Dun, dun, dun.
Yeah, you’re getting a cliffhanger. Want more bad news?
Next chapter will be posted on Desmond’s birthday:
March 13, Thursday.
That’s right.
Thurs. Day.
Hahahaha
Chapter 106
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Desmond looked around, trying his best to stay fucking calm. The only people with him in the vault were Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca.
Kasim and Maria weren’t here.
Altaïr wasn’t here.
He patted himself.
He was wearing the clothes he wore the day he entered this damn vault. He tried to open the…
Fuck.
What was this called?
Desmond knew what this was called, why couldn’t he fucking reme-
Zipper!
That was what it was called!
He fumbled as he tried to zip the bag open. It took less time that it wasn’t too concerning but it was definitely long enough that he felt embarrassed by the entire thing. He took out the phone inside, not caring of the other things spilling out of his bag.
The screen projected “October 21, 2012, 09:13 PM” as if it was mocking him.
He dropped his phone and covered his mouth with his left hand, suddenly feeling ill.
Did he travel back into the future?
Why now?
How could he stay here when…
“Altaïr…” Desmond mumbled as he moved his hand to cover the left side of his face. His left ring finger felt so foreign to him right now but that wasn’t what was important.
“This is so fucked up.” Desmond mumbled as he shook his head.
“Desmond, do you remember who you are?” Lucy asked as she raised her hands in surrender.
Desmond didn’t answer her even though he heard her. He didn’t even say anything when both Rebecca and Shaun took a step back away from him.
“Your name is Desmond Miles. You were born on March 13, 1987.” Lucy recited the same sentences she would always start with whenever he was Bleeding so hard that he could not differentiate himself from his ancestors.
“Look at your left hand, Desmond.” Lucy ordered gently, “Please, Desmond. Look at your left hand.”
He knew what she was doing. She thought he was Bleeding as Altaïr and the best way to stop Altaïr’s Bleed was to remind him of his left ring finger.
“I’m not Bleeding. Stop it, Lucy.” Desmond ordered back as he lowered his hand.
She was lucky that he didn’t snap at her. Hell, he couldn’t even let out a sigh at this very moment.
His body felt like it was refusing to relax after a very taxing adrenaline fueled event.
Which wasn’t exactly wrong…
“What did he say?” Rebecca whispered and Desmond noticed that Shaun had his phone out.
“He said… he’s not Bleeding?” Shaun frowned as he stared at his phone.
Oh.
Fuck.
He was speaking Arabic.
He didn’t even realize he was speaking Arabic. It was simply natural to him. As if…
No.
Arabic had already replaced English as his first language.
That was why it had become more natural for him to speak Arabic.
Desmond took a deep breath, holding the Apple with both hands.
Breathe in.
One.
Two.
Three.
Slowly breathe out.
He did the same exercise two more times.
“I’m not… Bleeding.” He said and he didn’t even know it would be giving him a headache, forcing himself to speak English.
“Sounds like you have an accent, mate.” Shaun snarked but Desmond could hear the doubt in his voice.
“Sexy, right?” Desmond joked, his lips barely able to form a smile.
Shaun didn’t seemed to mind or maybe he didn’t even see how Desmond’s heart wasn’t in it. Instead, Shaun just rolled his eyes just as Desmond remembered him doing every time Desmond made a joke that he didn’t think was all that good.
“Maybe it’s the Apple. Desmond…” Lucy offered her hand towards him as she said, “Throw me the Apple.”
Well, that was certainly a dead giveaway that she still thought he was a danger. If she didn’t, she would be walking towards him and taking the Apple.
Speaking of…
“Lucy…” Desmond rubbed the Apple with this thumbs, feeling it vibrate slightly as it let out a warmth that he didn’t even remember ever feeling before, “Why’d you betray the Brotherhood?”
Lucy froze for a fraction of second before she said in a calm tone, “What are you talking about? Desmond, the Apple is messing with your mind. You don’t have to give it to me, just drop it.”
She sounded so sincere, so worried…
And it was because he could finally observe her with a clarity that he didn’t possess before that he understood just how blind he had been back then.
They wanted him to lean on her and to trust her completely.
And he did.
After the isolation he faced on the Farm…
After that persistent feeling of knowing that no matter what he did or how he acted, a part of him would always feel like an anomaly in New York…
After the days spent in captivity, only talking to Lucy and Vidic…
Trusting Lucy became easy after he learned that she was an Assassin.
Trusting Lucy became easy after Shaun showed how much he didn’t like the choices Desmond made in life.
Trusting Lucy became easy after seeing how close Rebecca was to Shaun.
Trusting Lucy was the easiest thing to do because he had always been alone.
But he wasn’t alone anymore.
He carved out a new life for himself.
A life that balanced the danger of being an Assassin with the happiness of having a family that cared and friends that he could trust.
And now…
He was back here.
Alone.
Part of a team that would trust a traitor more than they would him.
“Is this your doing?” Desmond asked the Apple, which… to be completely honest, wasn’t the right move considering the three people with him in this vault were probably already thinking that he’d lost it.
That he had been corrupted by the Apple.
Maybe he had.
Maybe everything that happened before.
Killing Lucy…
Watching Clay sacrifice himself to save him…
Dying to save the world…
Returning to the past and living his life as Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III and falling in love with Altaïr…
Maybe that had been a vision that the Apple showed him so he would choose to let the world burn.
But…
“This isn’t real.” Desmond said, knowing full well that he was speaking Arabic. He closed his eyes and pressed the Apple against his temple, “We both know this isn’t real.”
One of the Apple’s ability was to create illusions that felt real.
Desmond wasn’t entirely sure how the Apple did such things but he also knew that the Apple could control a person’s mind.
He had used that very power to kill Vidic without pulling the trigger himself.
So it was possible that the illusions themselves were being directly shone into his mind. That the Apple’s illusions were simply another way to use the Apple’s ability to manipulate one’s mind.
And this…
This was an illusion.
It had to be.
“I reject this kind of reality.”
He felt the Apple grow hot against his palms.
“Desmond!” Lucy shouted but he ignored her.
“Even if this is real…” Desmond opened his eyes as he said, “This isn’t my reality.”
The Apple vibrated strongly in his hands as it began to glow.
Lucy rushed towards him with her hand out.
For a brief moment, he actually believed she would grab him but…
He saw her eyes flicker towards the Apple so he used his left hand to smack her hand away before she could grab the Apple, all the while turning slightly to keep the Apple out of arm’s reach.
Her eyes widened in surprise and he felt the Apple grow hot in his hand.
Countless lines lit up all over the vault, making Shaun exclaim, “I think this is our cue to go!”
“Desmond, please.” Lucy pleaded as she grabbed Desmond’s wrist, “You need to let go.”
It would be so easy to pull his hand back and strike her with his Hidden Blade. He had every reason to.
She used him.
She betrayed him.
She betrayed the Brotherhood.
It didn’t matter if she did it because she thought the Order could save the world. It didn’t matter if she was manipulated by Vidic into betraying the Brotherhood.
It didn’t change the fact that she was his enemy.
But…
She was also one of the few people who tried to be Desmond Miles’ friend.
So he held up the Apple.
“This is the future you’re helping them make.” He whispered.
Lucy gasped before freezing with eyes wide open.
Everything slowly became a blinding white light. Rebecca and Shaun disappeared in the light shouting both of their names.
Lucy fell on her knees as she gasped, her eyes widening as she mumbled, “No… This isn’t… I’m not… Nonononono-”
A litany of ‘no’ continued as she cradled her head in her hands.
Desmond turned around. Beyond the blinding light surrounding them was a golden tree.
A familiar golden tree…
He turned to look at Lucy who continued to deny the truth shown to her and he willingly dropped the Apple in front of her.
“I hope you make the right choice this time around, Lucy.” He said without any emotions at all.
He didn’t even know what he should feel about her mental state right now.
Guilty for being the cause?
Elated over finally getting revenge?
He felt neither of them.
Because he wasn’t Desmond Miles anymore.
Because this wasn’t his time anymore.
He turned around and ran towards the golden tree without looking back.
The blinding light slowly turned gray the closer he got to the golden tree.
When he reached it, there was a figure made of soft golden light, standing in front of the tree as if they were watching it.
“Why are you rejecting this second chance?” The figure asked, using Desmond’s voice.
Now, that was messed up.
“Is this even real?” Desmond asked back.
“If it was, would you still leave the Apple to Lucy Stillman?” The figure asked another question instead of answering Desmond.
Desmond didn’t look back.
He didn’t have to.
He knew that even if he looked back, all that would greet him would be the endless gray all around them.
A second chance?
Fuck that.
His second chance started the day he arrived in Jerusalem as a sixteen year old orphan.
Whatever the hell this was…
His answer to that question would always be the same.
“Yeah, I would.” Desmond’s lips curved into a mirthless smile as he continued, “What she does with it is her choice to make.”
“Is this the redemption you desire as Desmond Miles?” The figure asked, “To give her a second chance? Is this your way of apologizing to her for killing her?”
“It’s the choice I make as Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.” Desmond corrected, “Now that she’s seen the truth, it falls on to her to push for the future she wants.”
“The fate of the world and humanity is now in her hands.” His mirthless smile fell as he continued, “The turmoil that comes with that responsibility is her punishment for betraying the Brotherhood.”
“What a cruel punishment…” The figure noted before commenting, “I suppose I should have expected such a punishment from the future mentor of Alamut.”
“I don’t really care what you think about my actions.” Desmond focused his attention on the tree behind the golden figure, “I need to return to my time.”
The figure did not speak for a moment and Desmond wondered if they had stopped themselves from asking ‘is this not your time, Desmond Miles?’
He liked to think that meant the figure understood where he stood in all of this.
Instead, the figure asked, “Do you think this tree can bring you back to that time?”
And that was the worst part, wasn’t it?
He absolutely didn’t know if it could bring him back.
But…
“I have to try…” Desmond said as he closed his hands into fists.
The figure was quiet for a moment before they said, “Look at your left hand, Desmond.”
Desmond was becoming too annoyed to go along with the figure’s ‘game’ but he raised his hand anyway.
His left ring finger was missing.
Desmond’s breath hitched.
“The Apple cannot pull you to another time, Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III. It isn’t capable of such a feat.” The figure said out loud what Desmond was hoping for the most.
That meant that he didn’t change anything.
The Lucy he tried to give a second chance wasn’t real then.
Not only that…
Everything he just experienced wasn’t real.
He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
“What it can do is make you see any timeline that passes through the Gray.” The figure raised their hand to point behind Desmond as they continued, “Including the growing timeline you are making.”
Desmond lowered his hand and turned around, his breath hitching as he recognized the man sitting on a window sill.
“Altaïr…” Desmond called out as he took a step towards the man holding a tablet in his hand, swiping down on the screen twice before stopping.
He raised his head and Desmond froze.
Instead of Altaïr’s familiar golden eyes, this man had light brown eyes.
The man stood, grabbing the folded jacket next to him and wearing it over his white collared shirt. He passed Desmond without acknowledging him, as if Desmond wasn’t there in the first place.
Desmond froze after noticing the specks of green in the man’s eyes.
He looked too much like Altaïr for it to be a coincidence.
But those eyes…
They were Jalāl’s eyes.
He was sure of it. He had seen such bright light brown eyes for so long that he couldn’t mistake it. And the specks of green in Jalāl’s eyes was one of the few things he inherited from their father. There was no way Desmond could mistake such a thing.
He turned to watch this man, both familiar and strange at the same time, walk towards a bed.
The man dropped the tablet on the bed before grabbing a phone on the bedside table. Just as he grabbed it, the phone started vibrating. His lips curved into a fond smile that Desmond had seen so many times before. He poked the screen with his thumb before pressing the phone against his ear.
“I’m on my way.” The man spoke in English with a clear Arabic accent. He passed Desmond once more as he continued, “Yes, I know you’re downstairs. I’m leaving my room right now.”
Desmond watched him leave the room. The door locked automatically and he heard a beep come from the small touchscreen panel next to the door.
He walked towards the window where the man had been sitting and placed his hands on the sill. His breath hitched as he saw what was outside.
It was Alamut.
There was no mistaking it.
But he could see new houses and buildings. There was a large digital billboard where there used to be a rooftop garden, showing what was probably the latest phone by a company called Aquila Industries.
Based on what he could recognize and these locations’ distance from where he was, he knew immediately that he was standing in his own room.
And below was a large garden filled with red hibiscus.
He saw the man with Altaïr’s face and Jalāl’s eyes run towards someone that had been crouching in front of one of the flowerbeds. The figure turned to face him and Desmond saw his own face smiling brightly at whatever the man said.
He watched them leave together, their shoulders bumping against one another again and again.
He continued to stare at the garden filled with vibrant red flowers before he turned to smile at the golden figure now standing in the middle of the room, “Thanks.”
“I have done nothing to receive your gratitude.” The figure stated, “This possible time exists because the 25th imam of the Nizari Isma’ili, Jalāl al-Dīn Ḥasan III, lived a different life than what was recorded before.”
“All because he had the support of Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.” The figure continued, “It is through their combined efforts that his reign-”
“Stop.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t need to know the future. I mean…”
He dropped his hand and grinned as he said, “I want to experience it.”
“I understand.” The figure nodded before offering their hand. A ball made of golden light appeared in their hand as they said, “Then there is no need to remain here. As you’ve said countless time already… this isn’t your time.”
Desmond wasn’t even sure where in ‘time’ they were.
The room had changed back to the same empty gray space they had been in before and the golden tree behind the figure continued to lengthen and shorten as if mimicking the beating of a heart.
He walked towards the figure and reached out as he asked, “So this is also a different time then? It’s not just a hallucination by the Apple?”
As he placed his hand over the glowing ball, the figure answered, “Repeating October 21, 2012 was an illusion that takes data from that specific time and date. But this…”
The ball began to glow brightly as the figure continued, “This exists beyond the recorded data of time. It can access any data here, regardless of if it’s an existing past or a possible future. Minerva and her people call this the Gray.”
One of the branches of the golden tree began to grow as the figure explained, “This place is all that is left for those who no longer have a time to call their own.”
“And that is why…” The bright light coming from the ball threatened to burn Desmond’s eyes, forcing him to close his eyes.
With his eyes closed, the figure’s voice became clearer, sounding so much like Desmond that it made him feel strange.
“You will never belong in this lonely place, Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.”
Desmond knew immediately that he was back in his time.
No.
He had returned to reality.
Because he recognized that he was resting his head on Altaïr’s lap.
Oh, god. He wasn’t blind enough to not realize just how embarrassing it was that he could recognize Altaïr’s lap so easily.
But that served as nothing more than an afterthought because…
He was back!
That was what mattered the most.
He opened his eyes, his lips curving into a smile as he mumbled in a raspy voice, “’Morning.”
Altaïr’s face softened and his shoulder slumped as he caressed Desmond’s cheek, whispering back, “It’s still dark outside.”
Desmond couldn’t help but chuckle at such an Altaïr reply.
He reached out his hands and said, “I’m fine, Altaïr.”
Altaïr’s lips trembled ever so slightly but Desmond saw it anyway. He placed his hands on Altaïr’s cheeks, not caring how awkward their positions were right now with Altaïr’s hand still on his cheek as well.
“I’m not just saying that, Altaïr. I’m really fine.” Desmond repeated. He felt his heart grow warm as he whispered, “Because… I’m here now.”
Notes:
Jalāl being the 25th imam in this story is the same as in history. This is meant to be a ‘reminder’ that, while Desmond is going to be the mentor, he wasn’t going to take the role of imam even after their father steps down as the supposed mentor. Just wanted to make that clear just in case someone thinks that Jalāl should be the 26th imam in this story.
This chapter is posted this Thursday because of Desmond's birthday. I know I usually have something else for his birthday but, unfortunately, I didn't have any time to write an additional fic because of RL. Sorry :(
Chapter 107
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
“That’s all well and good, but we’d appreciate it if you could get up now, Prince Desmond.”
Desmond’s smile turned into a grin and he sat up before turning to look at Maria who was sitting with her back against the wall in front of Altaïr.
“Sorry.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, trying to look apologetic even though he wasn’t at all. Seeing Maria’s unimpressed look directed at him, he cleared his throat while glancing around. He blinked before saying, “Uuuhh…”
“We’re safe for now.” Altaïr said as he handed Desmond the small sack with the Apple inside it, “I carried you here while Kasim went the other way to lead his pursuers away from us.”
“Shit.” Desmond rubbed his face as he took the sack from Altaïr, “We’ll just have to hope that the other Assassins and informants are too busy and didn’t spot him then.”
They didn’t need to give Rashid any seeds that he could sow into this whole ‘Alamut has been secretly sending Assassins in our territories to undermine us’ bullshit that would pit Masyaf against Alamut during a time when Rashid’s ass should be the only one on the line.
“Kasim is a Master Assassin from Alamut. He knows what he must do.” Altaïr reminded him before adding, “I told him to leave Jerusalem as soon as he can and return to Alamut.
Altaïr paused for a moment before saying, “Just to be safe.”
Desmond’s lips twitched.
‘Just to be safe’.
Desmond knew Altaïr enough to know that he was just saying that so it wouldn’t sound too serious in front of Maria.
The truth was Altaïr shared the same worries Desmond just had.
Even though they both knew that Alamut had made it part of their training to actually be good at hiding from Assassins as well, there was still that worry that things were going to end sideways because of an incident like this.
It was because of how close they were enacting the final plan at last. They were becoming paranoid of everything.
“Yeah, better safe than sorry, after all.” Desmond said lightly as he looked at the sack.
Desmond needed to calm down. Everything was going to work well enough anyway.
Now that they had the Apple, there was no reason for Kasim to remain in Jerusalem. As far as they were concerned, Kasim’s mission was a success.
He’d have to stay away from Jerusalem and maybe the other lands under Masyaf’s purview since someone might recognize him but that wouldn’t be a problem. Kasim preferred missions closer to Alamut, after all.
“What do you plan to do with that?”
Maria’s question forced Desmond to pull away from his thoughts. He turned to face her as he took out the Apple from the sack. His attention moved to the Apple as its golden gleam slowly made its appearance in this quiet dirty room.
Even Maria couldn’t help but turn her eyes towards the Apple, not that Desmond could blame her.
There was something mesmerizing about the Apple. It was warm against his palm, glowing and dimming like a beating heart.
He could even feel something akin to a whisper. It wasn’t something he could truly hear with his ears but he could feel it in his mind.
Ezio’s Apple had been quiet, almost as if it was dead.
This Apple…
Desmond couldn’t explain it but he knew the Apple was trying to appeal to him by pretending to show some sort of ‘life’.
Or maybe this was truly how the Apple was supposed to be. Pretending to be a living being with a heart and a ‘soul’.
Maybe that was what Minerva took away when she asked Desmond to show her the Apple.
Regardless of why this Apple appeared to be ‘more’ than Ezio’s Apple, it didn’t change the fact that…
This piece of shit forced him to hallucinate and made Desmond worry that he had been taken away from his home so badly that he had been a dick to an imaginary version of his past as Desmond Miles.
So it shouldn’t be surprising that Desmond wasn’t inclined to feel anything remotely nice for this little technologically advanced asshole.
The Apple stopped dimming and glowing at that, as if it had realized that Desmond was just getting more annoyed by it trying to appeal to his morality or emotions or whatever the hell the Apple was trying to exploit.
Desmond wasn’t sure if the Apple was sentient in some way, like having an AI or something, or if everything it did had been out of some kind of reaction to Desmond touching it and reading his intention.
But he knew that the Apple wouldn’t do anything anymore. He wasn’t sure why he thought that but… it just seemed ‘right’.
Like he had subjugated the Apple in some way by calling it a piece of shit.
… if it was an AI, Desmond was going to have to question Minerva and her people about creating an AI that may be into being insulted.
But that was a problem for a later date. For now, he could focus on his conversation with Maria. He placed the Apple on the floor in front of him before raising his head to look back at her as he asked, “Do you think I’ll use this to subjugate the people as well?”
“It would be so easy for me to say yes. I have no reason to believe whatever you say after all but…” Maria stared at him calmly as she said, “I wish to hear what you have to say first before I make any judgments.”
That was good enough for Desmond. Maria was willing to listen. That was what mattered.
If they were having this conversation a few hours ago, Maria would have listened with him with doubt in her heart.
But Maria right now…
She didn’t necessarily trust him but she was willing to try enough to listen to what he had to say with open ears.
“I’m going to look for others like this and…” Desmond grinned as he proclaimed, “Find a way to destroy them all.”
Her eyes widened briefly before she reminded him, “They carry power beyond what we can create in our lifetimes. You’d rather destroy such power than use it yourself? Do you not think that, in the right hands, they could be the power that will protect everyone and bring them everlasting peace?”
“You should know by now what this is made for.” He countered as he dropped his grin before he took the Apple into his hands, “It’s meant to control us humans. It was created to lock away our free will so we can become puppets for a master that sees us as nothing more than tools.”
“Whoever holds one such as this holds the fate of countless people in their hands.” Desmond placed the Apple into one of his pouches as he continued, “Yes, it can do great things in the hands of the right people but…”
“I believe humanity should walk a path they make with their own hands without relying on the powers created to chain them and turn them into mindless dolls, dancing to the tune of their master.” Desmond said calmly, “Humanity deserves the freedom to create their own future. Only by having the freedom to choose can humanity be given the duty to walk the path of peace and the responsibility of accepting the consequences of their actions.”
“I don’t want to be some kind of savior or some great ruler that leads everyone to everlasting peace. If humanity wants everlasting peace then everyone will have to work for it. That’s the price of having freedom.” Desmond’s lips curved into a small smile as he asked, “Isn’t that a much better future than a peace built of chains and shackles?”
Maria remained quiet, looking as if she was contemplating her next words. Desmond didn’t mind. He knew a lot of things were happening right now. It would be more surprising if someone like Maria was able to take everything in stride and figure things out immediately.
No.
Maria needed time. In a single day, she found out the Order she swore to give her life to had been lying to her and…
Desmond bumped his shoulder against Altaïr and tilted his head.
“You lost consciousness after you touch the Apple.” Altaïr informed him, his golden eyes trained on Desmond’s face as if looking for something that should worry him, “You held onto the Apple while I caught you.”
“Did you carry me while I was holding the Apple?” Desmond asked curiously.
“No. I took the Apple out of your hand and returned it to the sack as fast as I could and then…”
Desmond blinked, wondering why Altaïr paused.
“He held you in his arms while carrying the sack between his teeth.” Maria took over, each of her words showing her disapproval in Altaïr’s actions.
“Ah.” Desmond understood why though. Altaïr would definitely do that in an attempt to keep the Apple from complicating things.
Still…
“Your teeth?” Desmond teased, unable to stop himself from grinning.
“We needed to leave the area as quickly as possible.” Altaïr answered as if he was reporting to the Rafiq.
This close though…
Desmond could see the reddening of his ears.
How cute.
He didn’t say anything though because he could see Maria looking at them with the same expression he usually saw in Alamut.
Resignation.
It hasn’t been a day since she had to ‘suffer’ through their presence and she was already tired of the two of them.
That had to be a record.
Still…
Desmond stood as he said, “We can’t stay here forever. We should leave Jerusalem as soon as we can and return to Alamut.”
Desmond nodded at Altaïr who nodded back. While Altaïr closed his eyes and connected with Maud, Desmond turned to Maria and suggested, “How about coming with us to Alamut for now?”
Maria’s expression became blank and Desmond could guess what was going in her mind.
She didn’t want to be an Assassin, that was for sure.
But she also didn’t want to offend a prince like Desmond.
“I’m not asking you to join us.” Desmond said lightly, making sure his gauntlet and hidden blade were secured and tapping the tip of his feet to slightly adjust his boots, “I’m inviting you to stay in Alamut as my guest while you figure things out.”
“Of course, we’ll have to spin it in a more positive way so no one would bother you because of your previous connections to the Order.” Desmond thought about it for a second before suggesting, “We’ll just say that you’ve requested sanctuary in exchange for information about the Order. There’s no need to give any information, though. We have en-”
“I’ll write everything I know.” Maria cut him off before standing. She looked at her garb, the red cross embroidery seemingly mocking her. She took it off, leaving her in her chainmail armor and throwing it to the floor, “I have no place to return to. Might as well make a deal with the enemy since everyone thinks I’m a traitor.”
Desmond didn’t like the self-deprecating way Maria was talking about herself but any comfort he would offer might be considered an insult.
That was why he simply nodded at Maria as he said, “Then we’ll get you some other clothes as well.”
Altaïr opened his eyes and announced, “We’ve found a route out of Jerusalem but…”
Altaïr’s face darkened as he said, “There’s a possibility that it’s a trap.”
“Too easy?” Desmond asked with a frown.
Altaïr shook his head before answering, “Too ‘perfect’.”
“What’s the difference?” Maria asked as she adjusted her belt to make it easier to move in the chainmail armor.
“Too ‘perfect’ means the route is dangerous enough to be risky but not too dangerous for an Assassin. Paranoid people like us could just be overthinking this or…” Desmond’s face darkened as he continued, “Someone is specifically targeting an Assassin of our caliber.”
There were other routes they could take, of course.
Hell, if they wanted to, they could wait this out. Keep hiding somewhere until it was much safer to leave. The problem with that plan was that they didn’t know how long Jerusalem would remain in such a state.
For all they knew, it could be months.
And that wasn’t acceptable.
Desmond needed to be in Masyaf for Rashid’s accusation.
He was the one who spearheaded the ‘project’ after all.
And…
There was no way he was going to let his father face Rashid without backup.
That meant they had to leave as soon as they could.
So they made a ‘dumb’ plan.
Altaïr and Maria would take a different route with the Apple while Desmond followed this supposed perfect route.
It didn’t take him long to know who had laid the ‘trap’. All he had to do was find somewhere high enough to overlook the exit that was supposed to be clear of any patrols every seventeen minutes.
Which turned out to be a rooftop garden that was in front of one of the southwestern viewpoints that Desmond remembered from Altaïr’s Bleed.
It had a clear view of the wall and there were soldiers patrolling the vicinity too frequently to be normal.
“Shouldn’t you be in Egypt?” Desmond asked as he slipped inside the rooftop garden, showing no fear as the guards inside unsheathed their swords.
“My brother and I were called to help with this monumental task.”
Desmond had only see a sketch of him before and, even if he hadn’t, he looked too much like az-Zahir for it to be a coincidence.
“When I said ‘my brother’, of course I do not mean az-Zahir. He is safe in Ḥalab as usual.” The young man raised his right hand and all the men sheathed their swords as he continued, “I mean our oldest brother al-Afdal.”
“So… Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn wants the support of his two oldest sons in this endeavor then.” Desmond noted lightly as he sat on the window sill he had just used to slip inside.
They all continue to stand there as if waiting for him, unable to hide the wariness in their eyes. The young man gave him a cordial smile as he said, “I’m honored that you recognize me. As you have surmised, I am al-Malik al-Aziz Uthman ibn Ṣalāḥ ad-Din Yusuf.”
Yeah, Desmond was just going to call him ‘al-Aziz’ in his mind because there was no way he was going to call him ‘al-Malik’.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Din’s second son placed a hand on his chest as he continued, “It would delight me greatly if we became friends, Desmond of Alamut.”
Desmond returned his smile with a polite one as he said, “I do not mind being friends…”
Desmond’s smile grew sweeter as he continued, “As long as you understand that being friends with me does not mean I am allying myself to you.”
“What would make you think I would ask for such a grand gesture?”
“You’re Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s second son. I know middle child syndrome when I see it.” Desmond joked before standing. He entwined his fingers in front of him as he said before al-Aziz could say anything, “I’m going to take a guess and say that you’re meeting me here without your brother’s knowledge.”
“Father does not know of this as well.”
Desmond tilted his head as he asked, “Are you sure?”
It flickered in his eyes for only a second but Desmond saw it anyway.
Paranoia.
Desmond could only guess what kind of relationship Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had with his children based on az-Zahir’s conflicting desire to be acknowledged and willingness to cut all ties if it meant keeping Ḥalab safe.
Seeing the second son now…
Desmond could guess what kind of political/family drama he was about to get sucked into.
“Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn won’t name you his heir even if I ally myself to you.” Desmond said calmly, glancing at the guards in the rooftop garden.
The third from the right.
He was the only one who flickered his eyes towards his supposed master when Desmond spoke.
Observing the young man for every little detail escaping his regal stance.
Man, it must be tiring. Being spied on by people that should have been loyal.
This was why Desmond didn’t like anything even remotely political even if it was necessary for the Brotherhood.
“You act as if you know my father more than his own flesh and blood. Or did our younger brother speak to you about our family?”
Desmond chuckled lightly before answering, “No. We mostly talk about the best tea we’ve had and recommend teas to one another. Oh, and we like to complain about the never ending paperwork. He has it worse though, with Ḥalab being such a regular stop of merchants all around.”
Desmond’s smile became more amused when he saw the way al-Aziz’s brows furrowed. He took a step back and sat on the sill once more as he gave the young lord a bone, “Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn is an ambitious man that can make these lands prosper or burn everything to ashes.”
“That is reason enough for us to observe him. It’s from those observations that…” Desmond poked the vine coiling around the sill as he continued, “I try to infer how he would act in any given situation.”
“That doesn’t mean I can accurately guess his every move though.” Desmond stated as he waved his hand, “I’m not that good.”
“But you are confident that becoming allies with you would not help with the succession.”
Desmond pitied him a bit. Being the son of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was harder than it had to be because…
“Do you know why Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn brought you two here?” Desmond asked, resting both of his palms on either side of him.
“I believe it is because he heard you were here and-”
Desmond chuckled, not really caring how that seemed to ruffle the young man’s feathers. He waved his hand as if to dismiss any offense he might have incurred and said, “I’m sure Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn didn’t even know I was coming to Jerusalem at the same time he decided to purge the rats scurrying under his boots. This sort of thing needs lots of planning and he’s not the kind of man that would go through all this trouble just to test which of you would find me.”
Desmond stood once more and took a step to the side, waving a hand towards the window as he said, “Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn is using this to test you both, yes. But it’s not some grand ‘secret’ mission. It’s simple.”
Desmond gave him a polite smile as he asked, “What can you show your father that your brother cannot?”
He could see al-Aziz’s mind start turning with the way his brows furrowed and his eyes stared at Jerusalem with a faraway gleam to them. Desmond didn’t necessarily have any reasons to help either brothers and az-Zahir knew him enough to not even bother asking.
A battle for the throne was something that Desmond didn’t really want to be part of, regardless of how close he was with anyone.
The political fuckery that Ezio had to suffer through because of House Auditore’s relationship with the Medicis and the falling out Washington and Ratonhnhaké:ton had in the middle of a goddamn war?
Yeah.
Desmond had enough political bullshit to last him lifetimes.
“If that will be all, I’ll take my leave then.” Desmond stepped back while turning around to face the men in this rooftop garden, “It was nice meeting you, al-Aziz. Whatever plan you make, please keep me out of it.”
“Wait-”
Desmond really didn’t want to wait but that would be rude and he was technically talking to the son of the most powerful man around these parts as a representative of Alamut. So he just tilted his head to give al-Aziz his silent inquiry to why he was being halted from exiting the stage of a play he didn’t want any part of.
“My brother is incompetent.”
Oooohh boy.
“It would be best for these lands if he does not inherit my father’s place.” The young man continued, offering his hand to Desmond, “Your Brotherhood cares for these lands, do you not? Then it would only be logical for you to side with me.”
Desmond wanted to sigh.
He had received reports about all of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s seventeen sons and, yeah, he did agree that the oldest son, al-Afdal ibn Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, wasn’t exactly the best choice for a successor.
“If any ruler does anything that jeopardize the lives of the innocents or trample on their rights…” He smiled at al-Aziz sweetly as he said, “Then the Brotherhood’s blade shall find its mark.”
The guards around al-Aziz gripped the hilts of their swords but they didn’t unsheathe them. Desmond would have to give it to him, al-Aziz was good enough to keep a blank expression even as he dropped his hand.
“Do you really think you can make an enemy of us, Desmond of Alamut?” al-Aziz asked with the calmness of a commander that could order the death of a man with a simple wave.
Desmond continued to smile as he asked back, “I don’t know, al-Aziz. Have you done something that would mark you as an enemy of the Brotherhood?”
Desmond walked towards the young man, ignoring all the guards as he stood at striking distance from their supposed lord. He raised his hands in surrender as he said, “I can take you all down before any of you can even unsheathe your weapon.”
Seeing al-Aziz about to speak, Desmond asked sweetly, “Would you like to see it?”
That made the young man pause and Desmond leaned closer before saying quietly, “You’re smart enough to know I’m telling the truth. Good.”
He tilted his head slightly as he smiled at the young man, “Then I’ll be just a little kinder to you, just this once. The Brotherhood will not ally with anyone but that does not mean we must be enemies. As long as you rule with the people’s best interests in your heart and show it with your actions, we will help keep the peace.”
“That is, of course…” Desmond leaned away and took a step back as he continued, “If you do succeed Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.”
Desmond began to walk backwards as he continued, “It’s good to have long term goals but it might be better to focus on what you should do at the moment, for now.”
“But that’s just my opinion.” Desmond shrugged, “Good luck.”
He let himself fall out of the window and quickly grabbed a nearby rope. Using it to swing to the wall’s top and jumping off it.
He landed on the cart below and heard Altaïr whistle from the front.
The horses began to pull the cart and Desmond waited for a few minutes before leaving the haystack and sitting between Altaïr and Maria in the front.
There was enough space for two more people between them and Desmond wondered if the two of them got into an argument or something.
Before he could ask though, someone on horseback galloped towards them, coming from the road that they were going to take once they reached the intersection ahead.
It was clear from his garbs that he was a Saracen and he bowed at Desmond (or, at least, he tried to, the horse was not cooperating, that was for sure) before saying, “Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would like to speak to you, Prince Desmond.”
The soldier looked a bit confused when he added, “… over tea?”
God damn it.
Chapter 108
Notes:
Before anything! Please check out sneaky-eel’s AltDes art inspired by this fic!
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
“If we run off, you’re gonna get punished, aren’t you?” Desmond asked as the soldier rode next to them.
“I was ordered to tell you that my left arm would be removed.” The soldier answered, looking worried as he kept glancing at Desmond then at the horses then back at him.
Desmond was sure that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn wasn’t going to go that far. It was a scare tactic meant to send a message: “You are not allowed to reject my offer”.
… probably.
Picking a soldier who couldn’t even hide his worry was also a deliberate move.
Desmond sighed. This was why he didn’t want to deal with Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn directly. He was just as troublesome as King Richards.
But in a different way.
In all honesty? He just hoped he wasn’t going to get another marriage proposal from god knows where.
To be fair, Desmond knew that the man’s sister and only daughter were both already married but he wasn’t going to hang his laurels just yet. There was still that looming danger of being proposed to a goddamn cousin or a distant relative.
What Desmond wouldn’t give to just get the horses to gallop as fast as possible. Hell, they could throw the man off his horse to keep him from chasing them too.
But…
It would absolutely be rude if he was to say no to az-Zahir’s father.
“Alright then. I’m guessing he’s just ahead?” Desmond asked dryly, already knowing the answer to that question.
“Yes, my lord.” He said, trying to bow once again while doing his best to keep himself balanced on his horse.
“No need for such formalities. I mean…” Desmond waved his hand over his less than presentable robes, “I’m not exactly the image of a lord right now.”
The soldier looked unsure if he was supposed to laugh at that and Desmond had a feeling that telling the man it was a joke would only make him panic over insulting a prince for not laughing immediately.
“I assume that we’re going to one of the checkpoints that’s been prepared to make sure no one escapes?” Desmond asked instead, seeing the camp on the horizon.
“Oh, yes, my lord.” The soldier nodded, “We prepared it as soon as we received word that it had begun.”
By ‘it’, Desmond assumed he meant the mission.
Or maybe operation would be more accurate in this situation?
Either way, Desmond could see that the camp had already set up a place for them to… have tea.
The soldiers stationed in the checkpoint all bowed at him as their cart entered. Desmond felt the desire to frown.
Either they recognized his face or they were just bowing because being escorted by the soldier sent to get them meant that he was Prince Desmond of Alamut.
He hoped it was the latter.
If it was the former, it might be time to return to pretending to be Vega once more.
They were escorted to an empty spot near the stables with a roof that covers the entirety of the cart and all the horses. Servants immediately walked towards them and gave water to the horses and two of the servants even started to brush the horses’ manes.
They all jumped down from the cart and Desmond curled his pinky around Altaïr’s. Altaïr squeezed his pinky using his own, silently agreeing with Desmond’s plan.
Hopefully, Maria would be able to follow their lead. There were too many eyes and ears around them for either of them to whisper the plan to her.
Another soldier greeted them outside the ‘private’ stable they just left, bowing at Desmond as he said, “I have been ordered to escort you.”
He stepped to the side and waved a hand as he said, “This way, please.”
Desmond just nodded, knowing it would do him no favors to say ‘thank you’ right now. For now, he had to play the part of the oldest son of Alamut’s imam who had been… invited out of the blue.
They were guided to the other side of the checkpoint, towards a simple light brown tent. The soldier pulled the flap out of the way and bowed once more and Desmond took that as his cue to enter the tent, followed closely by Altaïr and Maria.
The first thing Desmond noticed was that there was no other exit. The only way in and out of this tent was the one they had used to get inside. Another thing that Desmond noted was that there were soldiers five feet away from one another, standing in a loose circle with their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.
And in the middle of the tent was a table with two chairs, one on either side. The chair facing the exit was occupied by Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn himself, wearing armor that suited a general more than a sultan.
It was obviously made of the best materials available in these lands and there was no jewelry that would have hindered or slowed him down.
He was dressed for a skirmish, not for a party.
“As-salamu alaykum.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn greeted with a nod.
Desmond bowed slightly as he greeted back, “Wa-ʿalaykumu s-salām.”
“Come and accompany me for a bit, Desmond of Alamut.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn patted the table and Desmond quietly stepped forward. He sat on the chair facing Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn while Altaïr and Maria stood behind him.
“Leave us.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn ordered as he stared at the two behind Desmond, “Go and prepare your-”
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn smiled as he continued, “… cart. I assure you this will only take a moment.”
Desmond raised his right hand just above his jaw.
Altaïr bowed and Maria quickly mimicked him. They quietly left the tent and the light coming outside disappeared as the flap close.
Desmond dropped his hand and waited as a servant, a boy who couldn’t be older than twelve, quietly filled the two cups on the table.
Desmond recognized the tea immediately.
“az-Zahir sent this to me a month ago. He wrote that it was the best tea he’d had.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn said. Once the boy stepped back, Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn took a sip before placing the cup back on the table.
Desmond waited for Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn to let go of the cup before grabbing his own cup and taking a sip.
It was the same tea that Desmond had back when he visited Ḥalab with Altaïr. This one had been steeped half a minute too long but it wasn’t that bad.
“It’s quite delicious. Thank you for sharing such a delight.” Desmond said with practiced grace as he placed the cup back on the table.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s lips curled into an amused smile before he said, “az-Zahir told me that you prefer to go straight for the jugular so let’s both agree that we’ve done all that is needed to be ‘polite’.”
Desmond would be internally dancing in joy if he wasn’t dreading what their real conversation would entail.
Please not a marriage proposal.
Anything but a marriage proposal.
“What do you think of my second son?” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn asked and it took all of Desmond’s will not to sigh in relief.
He knew that the proper answer would be ‘he is a promising young man’ or ‘I am sure he would do great things in the future’ but…
Seeing the gleam in Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s eyes, Desmond knew that a proper answer wasn’t what the man wanted.
“He has potential but he’s too blinded by his rivalry with his older brother.” Desmond answered instead.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s smile turned more amused as he nodded, “Do you know the funny thing about that?”
“His older brother, al-Afdal, doesn’t even see him as a rival nor does he believe that there is any competition at all.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn said before sighing as he shook his head, “That boy believes that he is my successor simply because he is the oldest.”
“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn asked Desmond with a smile.
Desmond wanted to agree but that would be insulting this powerful man’s sons and that was a mine that he wasn’t even sure would blow up or not. Instead, Desmond commented, “I’m sure you have the power and the wisdom to make the correct choice when the time comes.”
“What use are power and wisdom when you’re dead?” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn countered lightly. He took the cup once more and sipped it before continuing, “Even if I was to announce a different successor, there would be those who would support both of them and push them to destroy one another.”
“As long as I am alive, we are united.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn said calmly, placing the cup back on the table, “But a dead man cannot stop the living.”
“Are you dying?” Desmond asked, not caring if it was a rude question. The Brotherhood needed to know if Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was dying and that was more important than any mistakes he might make as a prince.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn laughed as he pressed his back against his chair. His lips curved into an amused smile as he shook his head, “As far as I know, I am as healthy as a war horse.”
He placed a hand on his chest and nodded as he said, “But I am grateful for your concern, regardless of the reasoning behind it.”
He dropped his hand and tapped the table with the nail of his point finger as he continued, “I am speaking of the future. No one can escape the call of death, after all.”
Desmond hummed, silently agreeing to that.
“I am using this operation to give both of my sons a chance to show to everyone that they have what it takes to succeed me.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn let out a small sigh as he shook his head, “As you might attest to, it’s not going well.”
“My oldest is simply doing what I ordered and my second son. Well…” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn raised an eyebrow at Desmond.
Desmond just gave him a polite smile as they both silently agreed to not say out loud the fact that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn did, in fact, know that his second son contacted Desmond.
“You still have other sons.” Desmond reminded him.
“And they’re the smart ones. All of them do not want to succeed me.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn informed him, “Whether voluntarily or by coercion, they have stepped away from becoming my heir.”
The Brotherhood had reports of the others, yes, and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn would be right. One of them, the seventh son if Desmond wasn’t mistaken, had stepped away from any conflicts because his mother had begged him to.
Becoming a ‘contestant’ without any powerful allies was just suicide, after all. And, even if they were to be have any kind of support, the two oldest sons had already amassed enough support to attempt a coup if they wanted to. Any small fry with delusion of grandeur would just burn to ashes at this point.
He also knew that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s other sons have decided to support either the eldest son or the second eldest son in this bid because that was their only way to survive the future political vacuum that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s death would leave.
There were only three men who remained neutral and one of them was az-Zahir.
And az-Zahir himself agreed that the other two were remaining neutral because they were waiting for a ‘sign’ that would show which side would win. They’d easily flip to support the winning side once it was clear who would succeed their father.
Damn…
Thinking about it, Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn must have realize just how fucked the people he ruled over would be.
Because if al-Afdal or al-Aziz don’t concede to the other, it wouldn’t be surprising if it led to civil war.
“You must have a plan.” Desmond said calmly, “You’re not the type of man who would simply say ‘I’m already dead so it’s no longer my problem’.”
“Am I not?” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn asked with a smile that held no warmth at all. His eyes were focused on the prince that wasn’t even his ally and Desmond knew that the man was observing him.
Assessing him…
The same way Desmond was assessing him right now.
“We both know the worst case scenario in this situation and you wouldn’t stand for it.” Desmond noted as he placed his hands on either side of his cup, letting the warmth of the cup anchor him, “It would mar the legacy you’re leaving behind.”
“Legacy…” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn repeated in a thoughtful tone. He stared behind Desmond, at the only exit leading them to the outside world.
“When I was young, all I could think of was how to serve Allah.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn said in an almost wistful tone, “My uncle saw my potential and nurtured it but I was the one who decided what I would do with the gifts Allah gave me. These gifts are the reasons that I can serve Allah.”
Fuck.
Desmond knew that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was pious but he really didn’t want to talk about anything religious. His view of the world was simply too jaded thanks to Minerva and her kin.
If this continued down the religious route, Desmond was definitely going to say something that would brand him as a heretic and get on Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s bad side.
“I had a plan. A vision. And then…” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn returned his focus to Desmond as he continued, “I heard of you.”
“An orphan who became a prince yet willingly gave his position as heir away to his younger brother.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn stated as if reading a line from a play he didn’t exactly enjoy, “To be completely honest, I held no interest for such a story. What interested me was…”
“Your lack of interest in power.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn admitted. They continue to stare at each other with a calm facade as he continued, “That is what interested me.”
“Why would that interest you?” Desmond asked, already fearing the answer to his question. For some reason, he was getting flashbacks from his meeting with the Lionheart.
“Because a man who is not enticed by power desires something more.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn stated, “In this future you seek, will these lands prosper?”
Desmond remembered the future he saw back when the Apple tried to control his mind. An Alamut that seemed to be thriving…
He couldn’t be sure if such a sight extended beyond his home’s borders but…
He believed in the Brotherhood of the future and…
… in Jalāl’s descendants.
“Yes.” Desmond answered with conviction.
He couldn’t explain anything to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, of course. There was no way he was going to talk about the Apple’s powers.
But it seemed that his short answer was enough for Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn. The man nodded as a small smile appeared on his face. He closed his eyes as he said, “A man blinded by pride and glory would want an unsullied legacy. But what I wish to leave behind…”
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn opened his eyes as he continued, “… is a path that can be used to unify these lands.”
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn nodded at the servant boy who bowed before briskly walking out of the tent. Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn turned to look back at Desmond as he continued, “If I cannot find it within my direct bloodline then… I’ll just have to ensure that it is still of help.”
Desmond didn’t turn around although he knew that the tent’s entrance flapped open once more. The servant boy returned with a young girl who couldn’t have been older than three years old. She stood on one side of the table, between Desmond and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, remaining quiet as her eyes flickered between the two. She wore a simple white abaya underneath a white hijab but…
Desmond noticed the chain made of gold around her neck. Probably some kind of necklace or pendant…
“This is Amal, the first daughter of al-Afdal.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn introduced her and Desmond was absolutely dreading the idea that he was going to suggest a goddamn marriage between him and this child.
“I’ve already sent word to your father and he has agreed to welcome Amal into Alamut.”
What.
“As a potential bride of your brother.”
… oh, fucking hell.
Desmond stared at Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, stomping every desire to widen his eyes and drop his jaw.
He wasn’t expecting this, at all.
Hell…
“Even if they will be betrothed, there’s no need-”
Wait.
No.
This cunning son of a bitch.
“I see.” Desmond said instead. Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s lips curved into a smile that looked more like a smirk in Desmond’s eyes.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn wasn’t sending his granddaughter to Alamut to be betrothed to Jalāl.
She was being sent there as a political hostage tying Alamut to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
In the eyes of many, this could be seen as an alliance of some kind. Hell, he could just see the middle child syndrome acting up and al-Aziz assuming this meant they were throwing their lot with al-Afdal since Amal was his niece.
But no.
That wasn’t Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s plan.
If Desmond was right…
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn specifically talked about Desmond himself and his plans…
This meant…
Amal was meant to be a trump card that the Brotherhood… no.
That Desmond could use to legitimize Jalāl or his heir into becoming Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s successor.
And his father had agreed to this already so Desmond couldn’t do anything.
He could see why though…
Diya al-Dīn would have agreed because he understood what Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn wanted.
An ‘insurance’ to keep the unity held by Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s presence.
This was the worst because Desmond understood why it had to be done.
Having a stake to Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s legacy by marriage held enough threat that they could easily tip whatever succession war would occur after his death.
And, worst case scenario, Jalāl’s future bride and their future child could succeed instead with the backing of Alamut and most definitely az-Zahir.
Hell…
Knowing how close Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was with his brother, there was a possibility even his brother knew of this and would support them if the worst case scenario turned into reality.
At the same time…
He turned to face the girl standing quietly. Their eyes met and she quickly looked down.
“I would appreciate it if you take her with you back to Alamut.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn stated calmly, “Of course, I trust that your family will raise her well.”
In this kind of situation, it was common for a girl of such great lineage like Amal to be sent with servants to wait on her as well as maybe soldiers to keep her safe.
But Desmond realized that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to send any spies at all.
He was giving the girl up completely because…
She herself wasn’t important. It was her bloodline that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was sending to Alamut.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” Desmond said with a sweet smile.
“It would be cruel if I was to send her to anywhere else but…” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn smiled back as he said, “You take your ‘tenets’ seriously. You will not let anything befall an innocent.”
And that was the crux of it.
Even if she was a political hostage, even if she was the granddaughter of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn…
The most important thing was that she was innocent in all of this. She was too young to completely understand what was happening and Desmond could guess that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was betting on Amal growing up in Alamut and being integrated into their family.
Because he knew that Desmond would protect his family.
Fucking hell.
This was worse than being offered to get married to a child, that was for sure.
There was no way Desmond could reject this.
So all he did was stand as he said, “Very well. We shall take our leave then. We have quite a journey ahead of us.”
“Of course. My men should have already finished loading your cart with my gifts.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s eyes gleamed in amusement as he said, “To show my joy in this future union.”
“I thank you for your generosity.” Desmond said politely and was about to talk to Amal when Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn raised his hand.
“Escort Amal to Prince Desmond’s husband.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn ordered and all the soldiers began to move. The young princess was guided out of the tent by the soldiers with the servant boy quickly following after them.
Leaving Desmond and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn alone.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn stood and walked towards one of the lamps lighting the tent. He opened the lamp as he said, “Before you go, may I ask one thing.”
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn turned to look at him as he asked, “ That husband of yours… he’s Umar Ibn-La'Ahad’s son isn’t he? ”
Desmond tilted his head as he answered, “I’m surprised you remembered Umar.”
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn chuckled before admitting, “It is hard to forget the face of the only man that came close to slitting my throat in my sleep.”
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn snuffed the candle out as he continued, “I do not regret my order to kill the man but… I can give that boy a chance.”
“If there ever came the time that your Brotherhood wishes for my death, let that boy be given that honor.” Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn walked towards Desmond as he continued, “An ending for a story of revenge or a tragic story of the son dying in the hands of the one who killed his father… Either way, it would be a fitting death.”
Desmond stared at him for a moment before stating, “Altaïr doesn’t want revenge. And… the Brotherhood will not be part of any ‘glorious end’ you wish to have in the future.”
“I will say this…” Desmond took out a feather and placed it on the table, “If there comes a time when you must die for the sake of the peace of these lands and the safety of the people…”
“I’ll be the last face you’ll see.” Desmond announced.
Chapter 109
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
The gifts that Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had ordered to be placed in their cart weren’t all that bad.
It was still too much in Desmond’s eyes and left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth every time he was reminded about how these gifts could be considered as the price of Amal’s life while also being a bribe to keep the Brotherhood from washing their hands of whatever political drama would unfold after Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s death.
It could be considered a small mercy that the gifts were hidden in inconspicuous boxes. Anyone that would look at their cart would probably assume they held supplies they were bringing to their monastery while they were pretending to be monks.
He’d have to open them to check what was truly inside though.
Best case scenario, they could use it as emergency funds in case they had a bad harvest and one of those strange weather phenomena again.
Thankfully, Desmond was distracted by the sight of Altaïr on his knees, helping Amal weave a crown of flowers. They both held solemn expressions, as if working on a very important task.
Maria was awkwardly watching them a few feet away and immediately walked towards Desmond as he approached them. Just as Maria stood in front of him, Desmond’s eyes met Altaïr who tapped his left point finger against the back of his hand before whispering to Amal, “That one is too loose. Pull it slowly.”
Desmond didn’t need to acknowledge Altaïr’s gesture.
The left point finger tapping the back of the right hand meant that ‘it’ was safe.
‘It’ was a broad term but Desmond knew Altaïr enough to know that the man had checked all the gifts and deemed them safe.
That was wonderful.
Now, Desmond could just ask Altaïr was what inside instead of trying to check them all himself.
“My lord.” Maria bowed at him and, yeah, Desmond certainly didn’t like seeing her so…
Ugh.
Desmond didn’t even want to think about the word.
“Everything is ready. Will we be departing ahead of Princess Amal’s servants?”
Oh, boy.
That was a loaded question.
She was phrasing it as a question just trying to clarify that Amal’s servants would follow them back to Alamut, sure, but Maria’s blank expression and the way she slightly emphasized Amal’s name made it clear that she was actually asking if they were truly bringing such a young girl to Alamut.
Maria might not have heard the full story but she had been around other nobles far too long, so she understood that Amal was being sent as a political hostage.
“Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn has cleared this with my father.” Desmond answered and the way Maria’s brows furrowed slightly before she nodded showed him that she understood that Desmond’s hands were tied since Amal’s fate had been decided by his father and Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
He was sure that she had more questions but she wouldn’t ask anything right now. It was more important that they appeared united.
After all, Desmond was sure Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn realized who Maria was.
The fact that he didn’t order her to be arrested and that he didn’t even ask Desmond about her meant that he must have assumed Maria had been Desmond’s spy from the start or a turncoat that Desmond converted to his side.
That was the only thing that was keeping Maria from getting taken away and shipped to the same place they were keeping the other Templars they had plucked from Jerusalem.
Desmond patted Maria’s back lightly as he said, “Let’s go. I’d like for us to cover some distance before the sun sets.”
Maria bowed as she said, “Understood.”
They both walked towards the cart but Desmond stopped next to Altaïr while Maria continued to make her way towards the front of the cart.
Amal raised her head to stare at him and Desmond knelt next to Altaïr. Her flower crown was a mess, a few flowers threatening to fall off, and was made of flowers Altaïr must have found nearby.
It reminded him of the first crown Jalāl made.
It wasn’t perfect but…
It was made of flowers that persevered under harsh conditions.
“That’s a beautiful crown.” Desmond commented gently as his lips curved into a smile.
“Thank you.” Her voice was small, almost inaudible. She looked at the ground for a moment before slowly looking back at him. She didn’t say anything and looked like she was waiting for Desmond to speak once more.
“Your grandfather wants you to come home with us.” He tried to explain to the young girl.
“Yes.” She replied with a nod.
Desmond wasn’t sure if she truly understood what he meant but, at the same time…
It would simply be cruel of him to give her hope that she could say no by asking ‘are you okay with that?’.
“Okay then. Will it be alright if I carry you?” He asked with a smile that he hoped would keep her at ease.
“Yes.” She answered once more with a nod.
“Please excuse me.” He said quietly as he stood. He stepped closer and crouched, gently lifting her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he walked towards the cart. Altaïr grabbed the nearest box and placed it on the ground quietly. Desmond stepped on it and used it to get inside the back of the cart instead of joining Maria in the front. Altaïr returned the box to the cart while Desmond picked an empty space near the front of the cart to sit. He helped Amal sit next to him while Altaïr quickly sat next to Maria, taking the reins. One of the servants staying in the stables rushed towards their ‘private’ stable and helped the horses get out by pulling out the wooden structure that they were using to stop the horses from walking forward. He bowed at them as they rode pass him.
It wasn’t just him.
Every soldier and servant they pass by bowed to them.
Desmond just hoped that they were bowing to Amal and not to him. There was a difference between being polite to a prince and being polite to their ruler’s ally.
And Desmond was anything but Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s ally.
Hell…
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn knew both father and son enough to know that an alliance was off the table.
That was why he never mentioned anything close to the word ‘ally’ when he was talking to Desmond.
And why Amal was coming to Alamut more as a hostage than an actual future bride of the next imam.
Once they were out of the camp, Desmond tapped Altaïr’s back once and waited for Altaïr to hand the reins to Maria. Once Altaïr closed his eyes, Desmond took out a small rolled up piece of paper and a piece of charcoal from one of his pouches. He quickly wrote a small note and rolled it, having done this enough times that he had mastered the art of rolling paper without smudging the charcoal.
Maud flew inside the cart, making Amal gasp as she grabbed Desmond’s arm. The golden glow in Maud’s eyes disappeared and Desmond saw Altaïr glance at him to nod. Desmond nodded back before he used his other hand to pat the top of her head as he whispered, “It’s okay. This is Maud.”
A part of him almost called Maud ‘our daughter’ but stopped himself.
Yeah.
It was clear that Maud was in control right now, staring at Desmond as if telling him he should be glad she accepted Altaïr’s request to go to him.
Maud was going to peck him if he called her their daughter.
“Please give this to az-Zahir in Ḥalab.” Desmond requested as he tied the note onto Maud’s left leg.
Maud gave him a look that could only be described as ‘I know az-Zahir is in Ḥalab. Do you think I know another az-Zahir? Where? In Cairo?’
Desmond was sure he was exaggerating but he swore that Maud’s look did say something similar to that.
Still, Maud let him tie the note to her leg and just gave him a slow nod while keeping that very same expression before flying out of the cart.
No negotiating for more treats.
No request for any treat at all.
It was a different experience, for sure.
He had to wonder if Maud always gave such judgmental looks before doing Altaïr a favor or if that was something she did only for her ‘father-in-law’.
He turned to look back at Amal. She was staring at the sky, as if trying to still watch Maud even though she had already flown too far for them to see.
He patted the hand still gripping his sleeve gently and Amal turned back to look at him. He smiled at her as he asked, “Will it be alright if I see your crown?”
She let go of his sleeve and nodded before grabbing the crown of flowers she dropped on her lap. She offered it to Desmond silently and he took it while saying “Thank you” softly.
He hoped that she was just being shy right now. It wasn’t exactly a good sign if a child as young as her was normally this quiet.
“This is great. Can you teach me how to do this?” Desmond asked with a smile.
She stared at him for a moment before pointing at Altaïr, “He said you taught him.”
The cart grew quiet before Maria burst out laughing.
It wasn’t even that funny but…
Desmond laughed as well.
He supposed it was a bit embarrassing.
Once the laughter died down, Amal seemed comfortable enough to lean her shoulder against his arm as she tried to fix the flower crown she made with Altaïr.
“Did your grandfather tell you why you’ll be staying with us?” Desmond asked gently as he watched the young girl try to pull the stem of the flower just hard enough to keep it from wobbling.
“No.” She answered as she continued to stare at what she was doing, “Mother said…”
Her brows furrowed and Desmond was sure it was both because she was trying to concentrate and also because she was trying to remember her mother’s words.
“She said… it’s to keep me away.”
“Away?” Desmond repeated.
“Safe.” She said, raising her head to look at Desmond, “I’m safe if I’m away.”
Desmond wanted to rub his face.
If he understood what Amal was saying…
Her mother agreed to it (if she even had a choice) because she believed that this would keep her daughter safe.
… which meant her mother knew that it wasn’t all rainbows and shit.
From how Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn described his oldest, it seemed like Amal’s father believed that he was entitled to succeed Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn and that everything was dandy.
That was supported by the reports Alamut had about the oldest of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s son. He didn’t exactly have his head in the clouds nor was he incredibly naive.
He was simply… confident. Overly confident that he deserved such a future.
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn didn’t believe it though. That was the reason why he tested both his oldest son, the one who believed that he was destined to be the heir, and his second oldest son, the one who wanted to be his heir.
Desmond wasn’t sure how Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn felt about his second son’s actions of going behind his back to gain an ally and failing at that but Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn made it clear how he felt about his oldest son’s actions in Jerusalem. To be more exact…
His lack of initiative and only doing what he was ordered meant he failed Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s little test.
But…
If Desmond was to think about this more deeply…
Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had already planned to use Amal as a way to ensure there was a third ‘nuclear’ option after his death.
That meant he believed that his oldest son would never be worthy of his legacy.
Or maybe he expected that Amal’s connection to Alamut would force his oldest son to step up?
Fuck, he hated trying to understand Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
But he could imagine how Amal’s parents reacted when Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn announced that she would be sent to Alamut to become Jalāl’s future bride.
Her father would have mistaken this ‘act’ as another sign that he was the rightful heir and that Amal was being sent to finalize an alliance of some kind that he would benefit from.
Her mother though…
‘You’ll be safe if you’re away’.
She probably knew that their lives would be in danger once Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn was dead.
Desmond wasn’t sure how much she knew of Alamut but, at the very least, she knew that Amal would be married to the next imam of Alamut.
Someone who held enough power that she believed her daughter would be safe no matter what happened to their family.
The conversation moved to something much easier to… digest.
She had also been raised in her father’s harem together with her mother and her older brother before he left. From what Desmond could see, she didn’t really have any memories of her older brother because he was removed from the harem before she turned two.
Desmond supposed her brother was already being taught everything that a prince should learn. Jalāl also started taking lessons at an early age.
They also learned that Amal’s mother had been in charge of her education and she was a strict one. Because of this, she used more words than what Desmond could remember Jalāl was able to say when he was around her age.
Now that Desmond thought about it…
Would Amal be taken to the harem then?
She was young enough that it would simply be the proper procedure for her to stay in the harem but…
While she was meant to be Jalāl’s future wife, she wasn’t exactly family so Desmond felt like this was one of those gray areas where it was a bit questionable to take her to the harem…
Okay.
His parents would deal with that.
Yeah.
They were the ones who agreed to this without consulting Desmond. It was only right that they take care of Amal.
He was being petty, sure, but he also knew his parents enough to know that they would decide with her best interest at heart.
Hell…
With how young the two were, it wouldn’t be surprising if Jalāl and Amal would grow up thinking of themselves as siblings.
Oh god.
Desmond now had to wonder if it should be considered as pseudo-incest if what could be considered as step-siblings were to marry.
Oh, he was sure that some royalty wouldn’t even bat an eye on this sort of thing but…
Ugh.
Yup.
He was letting his parents deal with all of that.
They returned to Alamut without much fanfare. Maud had been sent ahead (and Desmond was still sighing over az-Zahir’s reply that could be summarized as “nope, my piece of work father didn’t give me a head’s up, congrats lol”) to alert Diya al-Dīn that they would be reaching the castle before afternoon prayers.
The townspeople didn’t notice who they were, especially since they wore a fabric around their lower face and Altaïr switched with Desmond to stay in the cart where his golden eyes could better be hidden. Amal stayed with him, looking all around with bright eyes.
She would tug on Altaïr’s sleeve and ask him about what she was seeing.
She didn’t even know what raw meat looked like or what some of the fruits were.
Well…
The Assassin in charge of the fruit stall had been getting fruits from farther lands because of the route that their ‘merchants’ had been using. Technically, they were Assassins pretending to be merchants to make it easier to get information from different lands but, to be completely honest, Desmond had a feeling that they considered being a merchant as their day job and they were just taking Assassin gigs now.
There was no need to worry though because they did their tasks without fail but it was still something that Desmond had to keep in mind.
Those men were sharks when it came to finding new items they could sell for a profit.
When they reached the castle grounds, Desmond had to finally sigh. His father was with Jalāl, waiting for them with their very own entourage.
He supposed he could indulge this whole ‘first meeting’ thing they were trying to push for. He jumped down from the cart first and waited for Amal to stand before asking, “Will it be alright if I help you get down?”
“Yes, thank you.” She answered with a nod, making her look cuter than usual as it was clear that she was repeating a sentence she had to practice a lot.
He held her by the waist and lifted her off the cart before gently placing her on the ground next to him. She held the flower crown in her hands even though it was already wilting and walked next to Desmond with her head high as they approached Diya al-Dīn and Jalāl.
Diya al-Dīn placed a hand on Jalāl’s back and gently pushed him as he said, “Come, greet your future wife.”
Oh boy.
They were already going down that route, huh.
Jalāl stepped forward and Amal did the same without any prompting. They stare at one another and Desmond could see some of the Assassins actually watching this with the same interest people had watching two cats meeting for the first time.
… Or people who didn’t have access to romance books all that much and were going to take whatever they could get.
The first sign of danger was Jalāl’s brows furrowing.
Jalāl raised his head to stare at Desmond as he said, “She doesn’t look like Attie.”
Desmond felt like the entire world should just freeze over at this point.
“I want to marry someone like Attie!” Jalāl shouted as he stomped his right foot.
Desmond assumed Amal was a sweet quiet girl and had been worried that she might cry over such blatant rejection.
Instead…
She nodded and said in a voice that must have been her mother, “That’s alright. I’ll allow a second wife.”
At this point, everyone turned to look at Altaïr because…
He was the ‘Attie’ Jalāl was talking about.
Chapter 110
Notes:
I'm sorry this is a bit late. I lost, like, half a day dealing with an RL stuff that can be summarized as the meme "This could have been an email" hahahahaha
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
The rest of the day went well… all things considered.
Desmond locked eyes with his father and they both silently agreed to do a bit of damage control. The mentor took Amal to the harem after ruffling Jalāl’s head and chuckling at his son’s pouting while Desmond gave Altaïr an out by asking him to assist the other Assassins in bringing the gifts inside.
This helped Desmond focus on his younger brother who was still pouting and looked ready to actually throw a tantrum because his opinions had just been ignored.
He rubbed the back of his neck and locked eyes with Zain who remained quietly behind Jalāl with his cousin. Zain smiled and Desmond knew that his friend was silently telling him that it was his job to calm Jalāl down.
Jalāl’s temper tantrums were a rare event but, in exchange for such rarity, it was quite tiring every time it happened.
Jalāl would throw off all his clothes and roll around the ground silently. Once he had their attention, he would start repeating what he wants in a calm manner that was more unnerving than any screaming or crying and he would not relent until his ‘opinion’ was taken with the utmost seriousness.
Now that Desmond thought about it, Jalāl might have gotten such habit from being around Assassins who had a habit of being deadly calm even when angry.
Case in point…
Altaïr and Desmond.
Oh god. Desmond just realized that Jalāl did start growling whenever he was throwing his tantrum after Altaïr came to Alamut. Desmond never put two and two together because Jalāl had only thrown one tantrum after he met Altaïr.
And it was when Altaïr didn’t join them for lunch that one time he had been so busy dealing with the scholars.
That was something Desmond would have to unpack some other time, he supposed. It was more important to focus on keeping Jalāl from actually throwing a temper tantrum right now.
Jalāl’s temper tantrum was tiring because one wrong step and Jalāl would start rolling around the ground once more and, depending on where he decided to throw a fit, he’d either get dirty or actually get a few scratches and bruises.
Most of the time… both.
Because Jalāl had a habit of throwing a tantrum whenever he wasn’t on a very clean, smooth floor…
In all honesty, Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if Jalāl did that on purpose.
Desmond went on one knee in front of Jalāl and said gently, “You don’t need to marry her when you grow up, okay?”
“I can marry her.” Jalāl mumbled as he gripped the fabrics of his robes tightly. He was still pouting (a very early sign that he might be thinking of throwing his clothes off) but his eyes weren’t watering nor were his shoulders shaking.
Good.
“She said I can get another wife.”
…
Okay.
(Desmond really had no problem if his younger brother wanted to have multiple spouses. Their parents made it work so there wasn’t enough evidence to show that Jalāl couldn’t do it. It should be noted that there was also no evidence to support the idea that he could make it work with multiple spouses. But Desmond wasn’t going to destroy that newfound dream of his.)
It was just…
Jalāl was too young to be thinking of that.
“So I just have to find an Attie for me!” Jalāl announced and, instead of watery eyes, Desmond saw the determination in his eyes.
Oh, boy.
For some reason, he had a feeling this would be haunting him for decades to come.
Dear god, he just imagined that there would be some announcement later down the line that stated something like “Looking for second wife/husband, must be…” like it was some kind of hiring ad.
Now, that would be a nightmare on so many levels.
“I see…”
What else could Desmond say to that?
He couldn’t exactly dissuade his brother from this, considering there wasn’t anything inherently bad with the whole ‘when I grow up, I want to marry someone like my brother-in-law’ dream he had right now.
“Well…” Desmond patted Jalāl’s head and ruffled his hair as he grinned, “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Be friends with Amal first and grow up healthy and strong together. Don’t even think about marriage for now.”
“Okay!” Jalāl nodded as he mirrored his brother’s grin.
It was a mirthless victory. Sure, Jalāl wasn’t going to throw any tantrum but now there was the ticking timebomb of Jalāl’s ‘search’ for a second spouse.
Desmond was sure he should have a talk about unrealistic expectations and all that.
There was no way anyone could ever come close to being like Altaïr, after all.
But he was going to reserve that talk for ‘future Desmond’.
“Come on. Let’s get you back to the palace.” Desmond stood and offered his hand to his younger brother who took it immediately.
Instead of walking to the palace though, he walked back to the cart and stood next to Maria who had her arms crossed and was quietly staring at everyone moving Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s gifts off the cart.
Altaïr had made a tactical retreat and was nowhere to be found, leaving Maria alone to look imposing, as if any of the Assassins helping out would ever plan to take a look inside and take a few treasures for themselves.
Yeah…
That would be hard to do.
Not impossible though.
He was sure Altaïr could do it.
But Altaïr had no need to do such things.
“Adha.” Desmond called out and one of the recruits stepped off the cart. He noticed Maria’s eyes widened the moment Adha pulled down her hood and the fabric covering the lower half of her face.
The two women stared at one another for a second before Adha turned to Desmond as she said in that polite fake tone of hers that she used whenever there were strangers’ ears around them or when she was being sarcastic, “Will you be taking another disciple, master?”
At that question, Desmond could feel all the other Assassins glance at him. Some did it well enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed their movement.
But Desmond noticed them all anyway.
He wanted to sigh. He could already see the gears turning in everyone’s minds.
Adha was his only disciple. If he took Maria as his second disciple, they would probably have some weird ass theory about how Desmond preferred to train women or some bullshit.
“No. You’re my only disciple and I’d like to keep it that way.” Desmond replied lightly. He nodded at Maria as he introduced her, “This is Maria. She provided valuable information about the Templars in exchange for sanctuary.”
“I see.” Adha stared at Maria and Desmond could see her sizing up Maria. Why? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that one.
The fact that they could have been the love of Altaïr’s life had Desmond not screwed up the plot so badly only served to make this entire three way conversation they had a bit awkward in Desmond’s eyes.
God, he shouldn’t be feeling like he was the mistress but he sorta kinda did feel like it right now.
“I’d like her to stay in the palace for now. Could you give Maria a tour of the castle while I talk to the palace staff about her accommodations?” Desmond asked as the two women continued to stare at one another.
It was the logical choice, to be completely honest.
Any other Assassin would try to question Maria in some form or another. Maria might even beat the crap out of anyone who said the wrong thing if Desmond wasn’t careful on who to choose as her guide.
Honestly, picking Adha was still a strange thing to do since she was still a recruit and Desmond would have chosen one of his friends because they were high ranking Assassins who he knew would honor the fact that Desmond was the one who brought her to Alamut.
Unfortunately…
All of his batchmates except for Zain left Alamut as part of their plan. Zain would never leave Jalāl’s side since he was the young prince’s acting bodyguard while his cousin was still growing up.
As for his other friends…
Khalid was probably still in the scholar’s tower, doing god knows what, and, in all honesty, he wouldn’t put it pass the man to try and get Maria to try out one of his (and Altaïr’s) experiments.
Rawiya wasn’t around and Desmond could guess that he was still asleep. He probably took the graveyard shift for the patrols again.
So, really, Adha was his only choice left.
And she was honestly the best choice because she had stayed in the palace quite a lot ever since she was young so she knew the staff quite well. They’d be happy to assist her once they finished setting up Maria’s room.
“Alright.” She nodded without even taking the time to look at Desmond.
Okay then.
Desmond was too tired to deal with… whatever was happening with the two of them. He was sure they wouldn’t kill one another so he’d let them… do whatever they wanted to do.
“Let’s go, Jalāl.” He said to his younger brother and led him to the palace.
He was just going to hope those two wouldn’t start snarking at each other.
He should have hoped that the two had just snarked at each other. After he took Jalāl back to the palace and promised his brother that he’d escort him to dinner after his lessons, he took some time to talk to the palace staff.
Most of them were retired Assassins, either by choice or by… unavoidable circumstances. The one in charge of all of them was probably the oldest retired Assassin in Alamut, a decade older than Rawiya’s father and old enough to be mistaken as Desmond’s grandfather by 21st century standards.
It should have been a short conversation. All Desmond had to do was ask them to clean up one of the rooms for Maria to stay in and talk to her about what time she’d like her meals to be sent to her room.
The conversation grew longer because he had to request that the ones to talk to Maria should make it clear that she wasn’t a prisoner and, if she wanted to, she could eat in the dining hall with the rest.
… naturally.
That ‘little’ criteria was what turned their conversation even longer because they had to have a long discussion about which one would be able to talk to a woman, who was also an ex-Templar, casually enough that they’d be able to drop the hints obviously enough that Maria would get it without being ‘too obvious’ about it.
Desmond knew that he was making it more complicated than it needed to be but he wanted Maria to feel welcomed without her believing that it was because of his status as the next mentor and first prince of the castle.
By the time they had a list of people that would be able to do what Desmond wanted, one and a half hours had already elapsed. Since no one had rushed to get him, he assumed things were going fine.
It was not… not by his standards anyway.
He walked out of the palace and made his way to the shadow’s tower to talk to Oded and get a report of how things were going with the training and the Brotherhood’s other missions when he saw the large crowd circling the training ring.
It was quiet which was pretty much normal for Assassins watching a match. The noisiest matches had always been his and his batchmates’ matches and that was because they developed some friendly trashtalk which bled to their audience.
Normally, the Assassins just watch quietly. Maybe they’d make a comment after the match or shout something if things went south.
Still…
Desmond just had this feeling that something was wrong.
So he walked towards the ring. The Assassins stepped aside to make way and Desmond wanted to groan once he saw who was having a sparring match.
Adha and Maria were at each other’s throat, parrying and dodging each other’s attacks with blunt swords used for training.
Maria countered Adha’s speed with her strength, making them…
Not exactly equal. Maria had more experience than Adha, that was clear with how she moved. However, she was more used to moving with heavy armor so she was fighting with a handicap now that she was wearing Assassin robes that they had gotten on their way out of Jerusalem.
That handicap leveled the playing field for Adha.
Still…
“Do I even want to know?” Desmond dryly asked as he stood next to Oded who watched the match with the same stoic expression he always had for every match he presided over.
“I’m sure one of the recruits can tell you all the sordid detail that led to this.” Oded answered calmly, “They came here a few minutes ago and Adha requested that they spar. She and her opponent had fire in their eyes that made it clear ‘no’ was not an option.”
“I see…” Desmond sighed and watched as Maria blocked Adha’s incoming strike from the side and pushed her off. Adha’s balance was off because Maria blocked her mid-strike but she was able to catch herself before she fell on her back, instead taking a few steps back.
Honestly, Adha would have more chance in getting a hit in if she was using a dagger. She would be faster. Hell, she might even be fast enough to hit Maria before she could block.
“Would you like to try?” Oded asked and Desmond knew that the man was asking if he’d like to stop the match.
“No.” Desmond answered as he rubbed the back of his neck, “They both agreed to this. I’m sure they wouldn’t lose themselves to the fight. They’ll stop before things get too serious.”
Besides…
Nothing endeared people to the Assassins here in Alamut than seeing them give it their all in a match.
Desmond sorta got it. He remembered that Mario’s mercenaries warmed up to Ezio after he started sparring with them. Hopefully, this would open the door to other Assassins finding it easier to talk to Maria.
If there was an actual reason why they had to spar, he’d just talk to them individually later.
For now…
“Imma go check up on Altaïr.” He said, nodding at Oded as he said, “I’ll come talk to you later.”
“I’m looking forward to our talk.” Oded bowed slightly at him and Desmond walked out of the training ring. There was no need for him to stay.
Hell…
He was pretty sure those two didn’t even notice his presence.
Altaïr was in the mentor’s tower, taking note of everything Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn sent with them. A few older Assassins helped with the inventory as well, organizing them in different piles to make it easier to list them all.
Kadar was the one writing down everything Altaïr was saying and was the first to notice how Altaïr’s voice became just a little bit slower as he turned to look at Desmond.
They both ignored how Kadar just gave this bright smile and stepped to the side as if trying to become one with the wall.
“Hey, hope I’m not bothering you all?” Desmond asked as he remained by the door frame. When he asked Altaïr to help with the boxes, he only expected Altaïr to haul some of them.
He wasn’t expecting him to stay and take charge.
“It’s fine. We’re still trying to organize them.” Altaïr stated as Kadar handed him the journal he had been writing on.
Altaïr raised an eyebrow at Kadar’s grin who just gave him a thumb’s up.
Oh no. Someone was corrupting Kadar with the mannerisms that Desmond had unintentionally spread and he had no idea who it could be.
Thankfully, Altaïr didn’t seemed to be bothered by it and Desmond’s attention zoned in on the journal in his hand.
Desmond immediately recognized it as one of the books the Assassin in charge of the coffers used. Altaïr walked towards him as he flipped the pages. He stopped at the first page as he reported, “There’s a total of seventeen boxes.”
Seventeen? Desmond wondered if it was meant to be a joke considering Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn had seventeen sons.
He honestly couldn’t see the man joking…
Then again…
He did joke about punishing that poor soldier just to make sure Desmond didn’t say no to his invitation.
“There’s a lot of fabrics and gemstones.” Altaïr noted as he looked over the journal, “We would have to request for an expert to take a look at them and give us a better idea of their quality but I believe they’re meant to be used by the princess.”
That wouldn’t be surprising.
“By my estimation, preparing enough clothes for her wouldn’t even take tenth of the fabrics here…”
“Altaïr…” Desmond cut him off as he dryly asked, “Do you know how many clothes would be enough for a princess?”
Altaïr paused for a moment before revising his statement, “I believe we need an expert opinion on how many of these fabrics would be left after we get the princess an entire wardrobe.”
Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smile brought out by Desmond’s own grin. They both turned to look at all the items cluttering this empty room that Desmond was sure Altaïr had picked because it was near the door. There was no way these boxes were going to be kept in this tower.
He’d have to talk to his parents and ask if these gifts should be transferred to the palace or the harem.
“Some of those fabrics don’t look all that comfortable.” Desmond noted with a slight frown.
“I believe they’re meant to be used for ceremonial outfits and the such.” Altaïr commented.
That would be the logical conclusion that Altaïr would end up with but, in all honesty, Desmond wouldn’t it put it pass Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn if they were meant for clothes Amal should wear every day.
A visual reminder of her heritage…
Wait.
That actually didn’t sound like Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn.
Was he overthinking it?
Or maybe…
“Is there any signs that these gifts were prepared by Amal’s mother?” Desmond asked lightly.
“There’s no evidence of who could have prepared them. If she did, she would have probably ordered servants to do it for her.” Altaïr answered.
“Of course.” Desmond agreed, rubbing the back of his neck.
That made most sense, after all.
There was no need for someone like Amal’s mother, the wife of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s oldest son, to personally pack these many boxes by herself.
“This box is filled with clothes.” One of the Assassin noted as he hauled the box he just opened. He placed the box in front of Desmond and Altaïr. All three of them crouched and checked the contents of the box.
The clothes didn’t look brand new and many of them were more like nightwear that a child would wear.
Underneath the clothes though was a doll, made of fabrics and wood. The fabric was soft to the touch and a bit fraying around the edges.
There was no need for someone like Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn to send this.
“I’ll have someone take this box and bring it to Amal’s room.” Desmond said as he placed the doll back inside the box.
“Should we take this out?” Altaïr asked as he took out a small dagger hiding in one of the thick, folded coats.
It was the perfect size and weight for a child of Amal’s age to hide and carry around. The red gem on its hilt was the same color as the hijab the doll wore.
His lips curved into an amused smile as he said, “No, keep it there.”
There was no need to take it.
It was sent here to protect a young girl, after all.
Chapter 111
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Desmond and Altaïr spent the rest of the day helping with the organization of the gifts. Most of them seemed to have been meant for Amal.
Fabrics to be used for her many (many) outfits.
Gems to be crafted into jewelry she would use. Desmond even had doubts if these would be for jewelry that she’d need in the future or if she was already expected to wear them as a child.
He was totally unsure about the gems and, at this point, he realized that he simply lacked any pertinent information to make a sound judgment when it came to what a girl would need and a safe guess of the quantity of anything especially during this time period as well as taking into account the fact that Amal was both the grand daughter of one of the most powerful men in these lands and the future wife of the next imam.
They even found three more daggers hidden in some of the boxes. One was inside some kind of wooden toy that felt more like something an out-of-touch adult would buy than a real parent who took the time to understand what their child would want.
He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that one was from her father.
The other two were poorly hidden. So poorly that Desmond was sure they were meant to be found so they could be some kind of distraction to keep them from finding the real daggers.
The fact that they prepared two ‘fakes’ was telling though. Desmond was certain her parents didn’t talk about this before separately preparing their respective dagger.
He didn’t mind giving both daggers to Amal but he’d have to check if she knew how to use it. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did. Jalāl already knew how to handle a dagger and would always walk around with a small one strapped to his waist. It was necessary because Jalāl was the next imam and there was no need to court danger by letting him be defenseless just because he had two bodyguards. One of which was an older boy who had just started training with a small sword.
Desmond hated that Jalāl had to learn so early that his life would always be in danger. It reminded him too much of his upbringing on the Farm. The only difference between Jalāl and him was that Jalāl had him.
And Desmond would do whatever it took to make sure Jalāl never felt the same loneliness, powerlessness, and worthlessness that he felt as Desmond Miles.
From what Desmond could see…
It seemed he’d have to make sure Amal would be the same.
He didn’t think everyone should be an Assassin and he wasn’t going to try and predict the future about what kind of life Amal wanted years from now.
The most he would do was make sure she knew that she could choose to walk her own path.
And then there were the gifts that Desmond doubted were for Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s granddaughter.
Handwritten books of different topics, packed neatly and carefully in three of the boxes. History, personal accounts, and fictional stories organized into different stacks.
Altaïr skimmed through a few of them before he noted, “I recognize these books.”
That got everyone’s attention and they watched as Altaïr picked each one, quickly flipping through them. He wasn’t reading them nor could it be seen as skimming.
Desmond realized immediately what he was doing.
He was looking for specific ‘signs’.
Something about these books that would make them identical to the ones Altaïr recognized.
Altaïr didn’t even bother opening one of them. Instead, he rubbed his hand against the back cover.
Once he had checked all the books, returning them to their proper stack each time he finished with one of them, he turned to look at Desmond as he said, “These are all from Damascus.”
All the other Assassins looked at Desmond, quietly asking him if Altaïr truly did remember every freaking book in Damascus.
But it wasn’t that… strange.
Desmond’s mind put two and two together when he heard the name Damascus.
“Jubair al Hakim.” Desmond said out loud. Altaïr nodded, having come to the same conclusion Desmond just had.
Knowing he would need to explain this to the others, he turned to face them before explaining, “He’s a scholar in Damascus. Alamut is keeping an eye on him because of his fervent desire to destroy books that he calls ‘the source of evil and hatred in the world’.
Remembering that some of these Assassins weren’t part of the investigations on Rashid’s actions in the lands under Masyaf’s purview, he added the prepared excuse concerning any topics connected to Jubair al Hakim, “We deemed it necessary to keep an eye on him because of the possibility that he may try to spread such dangerous ideology to other lands and might even influence our own scholars.”
The Assassins accepted such the explanation without question. It was less because Desmond, their next mentor, said it and mainly because it made sense.
It was also not a lie.
More importantly, that explanation served to stop anyone from asking if Altaïr really did remember the books for some reason.
Desmond’s eyes met Kadar’s and they both knew that they held the same answer to that question.
Yes.
Altaïr absolutely remembered all those books because his skills of memorizing things had been honed and drilled into him by Rashid since he was young and…
… because Altaïr would totally remember books and journals that interested him.
There was a reason why these books were being slandered as the source of evil and hatred in the eyes of a zealous Templar after all.
“God, I can’t wait for the day to be over. I miss sleeping in our room.” Desmond said quietly as he rolled his shoulders while they made their way to the room Jalāl usually stayed in for his lessons. He glanced at Altaïr as he said, “Thanks for walking with me.”
Altaïr raised an eyebrow at those words before he asked, “That was awkward, right?”
Desmond chuckled as he nodded, “Yup.”
“I know I said I just wish to check up on setti and her family before I join Kadar and his father for dinner but…” Altaïr quickly looked around before he placed a hand on Desmond’s shoulder, gently guiding him to a small space between two pillars. Desmond’s lips curved into a grin as he pressed his back against the wall. He rested his arms around Altaïr’s shoulders and pulled him close, closing his eyes as he felt Altaïr’s lips on his.
It was easy to lose himself to the familiar comforting warmth of Altaïr’s embrace but he still felt Altaïr place the small bag that kept the Apple hidden inside one of Desmond’s pouches.
Their lips parted for just a few inches and Desmond whispered, “Sneaky.”
“I couldn’t find a good time to do it.” Altaïr whispered back and Desmond knew what he meant. The entire ride back to Alamut had been in the presence of both Maria and Amal. Maria wouldn’t have said anything but Amal would have been curious.
“The Apple or the kiss?” Desmond teased.
Altaïr’s answer came in the form of another kiss and Desmond could feel the curve of his smile against his lips. He parted his lips and tilted his head slightly, deepening their kiss as their ton-
“This is a public space.”
They didn’t push each other away. They did, however, pull away from their kiss to press their foreheads together, letting out a resigned sigh in unison.
Desmond pecked Altaïr on the lips before gently pushing him back. Altaïr quietly stepped to the side, letting Desmond see the dastardly person who had cut their moment short.
“Adha.” Desmond nodded at his smug disciple, not even surprised anymore that she was enjoying the fact that she stopped them.
What he was surprised about was the fact that Maria was standing next to her.
Neither of them looked wounded or bruised nor did they look like they were going to wait until the other was asleep and smother them with a pillow so Desmond was going to assume the sparring match ended well.
“Should I ask why you two are here?” Desmond asked as he stepped towards them and stood next to Altaïr.
“I was just escorting Maria to her room as ordered.” Adha answered dryly and Desmond could already see that she was going to be such a bad influence to Maria. The ex-Templar was confused right now, probably not used to such a casual interaction between Desmond and Adha, the supposedly prince and some random female recruit. If she became friends with Adha, Desmond just knew she’d quickly understand that Desmond preferred such casualness.
Which would be a good thing…
But that also meant Maria would start snarking at him about Altaïr and Desmond’s relationship.
It would definitely take Desmond a bit of time to get used to that.
“But accidentally stumbling on you two being scandalous in public is a good thing.” Adha commented, making both men furrow their brows at her. She glanced at Maria before announcing, “I’m joining Maria on her journey once I’m initiated.”
Seeing Maria’s frown made it clear that what the ex-Templar’s stance was with all of this. Hell, Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if that had been the reason why they had a sparring match.
There was just one problem.
Desmond didn’t even know that Maria had decided to go on a journey.
It wasn’t surprising, not really. Desmond knew that Maria had been thinking about what she wanted to do with her life during their time on the road. He had given her space, not asking anything at all.
And now he was hearing her plans from Adha first? Someone that Maria met just a few hours ago?
For some reason, Desmond felt like he should be offended but he couldn’t even find the strength to do that.
Because the first thing that left his lips were…
“Are you two eloping?”
Maria opened her mouth, most probably to deny such a wild accusation, but Adha beat her to it with a voice filled with all the sarcasm in all of Alamut brought forth by Desmond’s dumb question, “No. We’re not you two.”
The funniest part was that they never eloped and Adha knew that. She was there.
Unfortunately, everyone believed they did and there was no way Desmond was going to try and clear shit up now because that would only invite new questions that could chip off the truth from the web of lies through omission carefully spun since Altaïr came to Alamut.
Desmond rubbed his face and nodded instead, “Yeah, okay, fair.”
“Are you planning to return home?” Altaïr asked Maria directly and Adha rolled her eyes, knowing that Altaïr had bypassed her to give Desmond a bit of breathing room against Adha’s ‘attacks’.
“No.” Maria shook her head before looking around. Seeing that they were alone, she said quietly, “I only told Adha that I plan to travel around and look for… dangerous items that might be better off removed from this world.”
“I figured out that she meant something like…” Adha glanced at Desmond’s belt where he kept the dagger and the hourglass from Minerva.
No, seriously.
They were together for a few hours.
Just how many topics and how deeply did they talk about each one that they got to the point of talking about the future and the artifacts?
Desmond pinched the bridge of his nose.
It wasn’t exactly a bad idea, all things considered.
If Maria had told him her plans, he would have been worried because he wasn’t sure that Maria had enough tolerance against the influence of the Pieces of Eden.
Adha, on the other hand…
She had shone no reaction to any of the artifacts she saw and Desmond was sure she could easily ignore the Apple if needed. She was, after all, the Chalice.
One of the last living descendants of one of the greatest scientist of the precursor race, Minerva.
“How about this, I can give you a map with those artifacts’ locations.”
To be more exact, the Apple could show the map and Desmond would just copy it.
“Once you’re initiated, we’ll spin this as something like ‘additional training’ and reconnaissance for possible future bureaus and overall surveying other lands.” Desmond suggested, making stuff up on the spot, “We’ll think about this and plan this first. For now…”
“Just take some time to rest.” Desmond suggested to Maria, just a few more seconds of headache inducing Adha ideas away from begging the two to take the night off.
Dinner was an awkward affair.
Amal joined them and their father reminded Jalāl that she was to be his future wife so they should try and get along.
Jalāl, bless such an innocent soul, asked why Amal was joining them for dinner when Altaïr never did.
It took Desmond talking his ass off about how Altaïr had dinner with Faheem and Kadar every night and…
He might have unintentionally made Jalāl believe that Altaïr was adopted by the Al-Sayf family.
Desmond would have hoped that he was saved but, knowing his past records, he just knew this little misunderstanding was going to bite him in the ass later.
He just hoped he remembered to give Faheem a head’s up about Jalāl misunderstanding the relationship between Altaïr and the Al-Sayf.
Oh, god. Malik must never hear about this.
Unfortunately, whatever plans Desmond had about trying to salvage the situation had to pushed aside for now because his mothers requested him to join them in their after-dinner tea.
The fact that his father was not there was a clear indication that this was not going to be a simple ‘so, how have you been doing?’ kind of talk.
Tea was served in the very same garden that he first met them and they all lounged around the middle, sitting on a very soft carpet while being surrounded by pillows all around.
The garden was beautiful even at night, countless lanterns created an image of fallen stars lighting the entire place.
The only real damper of such a sight was the nagging worry that it was a fire hazard.
“Don’t you ever worry that something will catch fire?” Desmond asked as they waited for all the servants to leave. The door quietly closed once the last of them left and Desmond turned around to look at the small table at the center of their little circle.
Honeyed breads, nuts and fruits accompanied the hibiscus tea the servants had prepared and Desmond couldn’t help but smile as he took one of the small pieces of honeyed bread.
“This garden has always looked like this.” Raiza said calmly before taking a sip of her tea, sitting straight just like Desmond. Desmond hummed, not truly sure what else to say to that.
“I think it’s too melancholic.” Dvora commented, taking up so much space as she sat like some kind of mermaid, using a stack of pillows to keep herself upright. She grabbed the bowl of dates and ate one before continuing, “But Raiza and Nur wouldn’t allow me to change it.”
“She wanted to remove the lanterns and add a large fire pit in the center.” Nur whispered as she sat comfortably next to Desmond. Desmond continued to eat his honeyed bread as he listened to his mothers talk.
“We were going to put it at the center of a very small lake.” Dvora clarified and Desmond could imagine what Dvora wanted.
That would probably be a more concerning fire hazard but he wasn’t going to say anything. He had a feeling that it wasn’t the conversation that he was summoned for.
As if noticing Desmond’s desire to get to the real topic at hand, Raiza placed her cup down and asked, “Would you like to be in charge of Amal’s upbringing?”
“I’m not adopting her.”
They all stared at him, probably surprised by how quickly Desmond said such a thing. He stared at them for a moment before shrugging, “Just wanted to make sure we’re all in the right page.”
“That wasn’t what we meant but…” Raiza blinked as she said, “We appreciate the clarification.”
“What we’re asking if you want to have the final say on Amal’s education and anything that she might need growing up.” Dvora took over, poking Raiza’s thigh with her left foot gently.
“Why?” Desmond asked, curious why such an offer was even on the table.
It was weird, right?
Being in charge of his future sister-in-law?
Like, maybe Desmond was being paranoid but it sounded like some kind of setup to make way for some period drama bullshit that Desmond absolutely didn’t want to be a part of.
“You have been pushing for more options for women.” Raiza reminded him and Desmond blinked.
Ah.
To be completely honest, he forgot how his plans to give women options to be more independent was probably strange in other people’s eyes, including his mothers.
He had to start small, of course. That way, he wouldn’t receive too many complaints until it was too late.
He should have expected his mothers to realize that he wasn’t just going to ‘end’ this project of his with giving the nymphs the option to be bakers and cooks instead.
And… he did want to make sure Amal grew up happy. At the same time…
“I think…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, “I think I’m not qualified to actually take charge of something as important as Amal’s education and well-being.”
Not to mention, he planned to go on a ‘vacation’ after Rashid was taken care of. It would be irresponsible for him to take Amal as his ward(?) when he was taking a long ass vacation soon.
“And I trust you all to have her best intention at heart.” He looked at each of them as he added, “You helped me grow up the way I am now so… you’re not going to do a bad job, at least.”
Dvora laughed at his bad joke while Nur smiled at him.
It wasn’t exactly wrong. Sure, Desmond had been an adult stuck in a sixteen year old body when they first met but…
They taught him things he didn’t know about these lands and this time. They taught him part of the history of the Brotherhood he didn’t even know exist.
They were…
They weren’t bad. Both as his mentors and… as his mothers.
They started off on the wrong foot and Desmond wasn’t going to forget just how fucked up their first meeting was.
At the same time, they remained steadfast of their support of his plans for Alamut and the Brotherhood.
“When she’s a bit older, I want to talk to her though.” Desmond added, “I want to ask her what she wants to do and I want to help her… for now…”
“Just don’t go overboard with the education, please?” Desmond lightly joked, making Nur smile and Dvora chuckle.
“We can do that.” Raiza nodded solemly, “We have no plans to let her experience what we had to endure. We will give her everything she needs to the best of our ability.”
“Can I ask for one thing though?” Desmond added, waiting for them to nod before requesting, “Please let Amal and Jalāl play with the other kids.”
“I know it’s a security risk but there’s a few kids around her and Jalāl’s age. Kasim’s younger sister and setti’s daughter and… Kāve too. They can play in the palace’s courtyard and you can have a few people guard them during those time. Just…”
“You wish to give them a childhood similar to others.” Nur realized.
Desmond nodded, his lips curving into a small smile as he said, “I think… kids should be allowed to be kids, you know?”
He tried to ignore the reminder that Desmond Miles never got to do such a thing.
At the very least, he wished his younger brother and sister wouldn’t suffer the same fate.
“We’ll add it to their schedule. It would be good for them to socialize with others, after all.” Raiza said with a nod.
“Thanks.” Desmond nodded back.
Before any awkwardness could descend upon them, Dvora placed a date on Desmond’s empty plate as she said, “Just to be clear, we don’t hate Altaïr.”
“I never thought you did?” Desmond said, unsure where this was going.
“We’re waiting for you to invite him.” Dvora said as she placed another date on his plate.
Wait.
What?
“Uuhhh…” Desmond blinked.
“I told you he didn’t know.” Nur sighed as Dvora added one more date on his plate.
“Well, I told you two we should tell him but Raiza was like ‘no, that would be pressuring him’.” Dvora reminded the two, doing a very convincing Raiza impression at the end.
“I don’t sound like that.” Raiza said with a frown.
She actually did.
They all stopped when they heard Desmond laugh lightly. He grinned at them and rubbed his right eye as he said, “I’ll talk to Altaïr about it.”
“Thanks.” He said lightly, looking down at the date filled plate, “… for trying not to pressure me.”
Seeing Raiza nod as if he just agreed to her misconception that telling him that the ball was in his court concerning Altaïr’s attendance for these family dinners, Desmond couldn’t help but chuckle.
… and quietly eat the dates in his plate.
Chapter 112
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
By the time Desmond returned to their room, Altaïr was already there. That wasn’t surprising. Most of the time, Altaïr would finish his dinner with the Al-Sayf family before Desmond even finished talking to his parents.
“Welcome back.” Altaïr greeted him the moment Desmond opened the door. He tilted his head in silent question when he noticed Desmond’s lips turned to a grin.
Yeah, he would be wondering about that.
Desmond probably looked like he was as tired as Sisyphus most definitely felt each day so suddenly grinning would be a cause for ‘concern’.
“It’s nothing.” Desmond shook his head as he entered the room, “I just…”
He rubbed the back of his neck as he admitted, “I never realized how much I’d miss hearing you say that.”
Altaïr hummed before closing the book he was reading. He placed it on the table and walked towards Desmond as he asked lowly, “Shall I keep saying it then?”
A very tempting offer but…
Desmond placed a hand on Altaïr’s chest as he said, “This is going to sound really ‘old’ of me but… I think I’m too tired to even do anything sexy with you.”
“Anything sexy…” Altaïr mumbled and Desmond knew he distracted the man with his… strange way of putting it.
It did help him gently push Altaïr away so he could enter their room and he faceplanted immediately on the mountain of pillow, sighing as he closed his eyes.
He knew the room would be a bit dusty since they were out for a while but the pillows felt alright. He opened one eye while slowly turning his head to the side and glanced at what he could see from his current position.
Everything looked to be in order, not a single item was even a milimeter out of place.
“Did you clean?” Desmond asked, already knowing the answer.
“I just wiped the dust off. Nothing intensive.” Altaïr answered by the door and Desmond heard the sound of the door closing before the clicking of the locks.
God. It was such a good idea that they took the time to take a quick bath before dinner. Desmond was too drained to take an evening bath right now.
They didn't take a bath, not because they thought they were going to be too tired to do it later though.
They just thought it would be completely rude if they were to go to dinner without at least a short bath. Desmond knew, for a fact, that they didn’t really smell like roses and daisies when they arrived at Alamut and no one even dared to say that in front of their faces.
Crap.
“We need to tell Maria about the thermae.” Desmond groaned and placed both of his hands on either side of his head. He began to push himself up but Altaïr placed a hand on his back, gently pushing him down once more.
“I’m sure Adha has told her about it.” Altaïr said softly as he sat next to Desmond and pull Desmond’s hood, “Desmond… you should at least change first before you go to sleep.”
Understanding that Maria was being taken care of (no, Desmond wasn’t going to think too deeply about that), he simply groaned and pressed his face against the pillow. He would have to turn his head soon otherwise he was going to suffocate but… not right now. Right now, Desmond just wanted to become one with the pillows.
He said something that was simply too muffled but he knew Altaïr understood him anyway. His clothes were still clean. It would be fine to sleep while wearing them.
Altaïr caressed his head, gently combing through his hair before making his way towards Desmond’s neck. Desmond shivered as he felt the warmth of Altaïr’s fingers and the distinct texture of his leather glove against the sensitive skin of his nape.
Altaïr’s hand pulled back and was replaced by a soft kiss, making Desmond sigh as he turned around. He couldn’t see Altaïr from his current position but he could feel him as he moved. He felt Altaïr pull his boots off, making him mumble, “I can do it.”
“It’s alright.”
Desmond shivered as he felt Altaïr gently hold his right foot. An incoherent sound escaped his lips as he felt Altaïr’s thumbs press against the sole of his foot.
It took Desmond an embarrassingly long time to realize that Altaïr was massaging his foot.
And he was fucking good at it.
“Fuck you, you overachiever bastard.” Desmond managed to say between moans as Altaïr continued to massage his foot, pressing the right points that left Desmond both shivering and putty at the same time.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Desmond could hear the smirk even when he couldn’t see Altaïr’s face. He didn’t even know when Altaïr stopped massaging his feet, his brain having became a sorry excuse for mush a few seconds ago.
All Desmond could feel was the firm pressure Altaïr’s hands brought with them as he massaged Desmond’s calves, slowly making their way upward.
Altaïr straddled his legs as he began to massage his lower back.
If Desmond was a cat, he’d be purring right now.
All he could do was stay more relaxed than a puddle of water on a summer’s day.
Yeah. There was no way that description made any sense but Desmond’s brain could barely function as it was, right now.
“This might be better than sex.” Desmond thought out loud, making Altaïr chuckle.
“I’m sure I can change your mind.” Altaïr whispered as he squeezed Desmond’s ass.
Desmond couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. Altaïr sat on his legs and poked his lower back, making Desmond say, “Sorry, sorry. It just sounded so much like a porno line that I-”
The idea of Altaïr being in a porno invaded his mind without his consent, causing him to giggle as he tried to stop but it was too late, his sides already ached a lot.
“What’s a porno?” Altaïr asked curiously.
It wasn’t even funny. Not really.
But it still made Desmond laugh even harder.
“You’ll tell me if you’ve fallen in love with Maria, right?”
Desmond would like to think that Adha’s expression could be summarized as ‘I have no idea where you even got that idea and I’m not interested enough to ask because I know the answer will be stupid’.
It was the brows.
Adha had very expressive eyebrows.
“You two talk about your future plans when you’ve only met a few hours ago.”
And in those few hours, the two decided to duke it out in the training ring but Desmond wasn’t going to remind Adha about that.
He had a feeling she would just ask if he was jealous that he didn’t get to spar with anyone yesterday.
If Desmond was being completely honest, he was much more impressed that Maria found the energy to try and beat someone up. He was pretty sure her body was as sore and aching as theirs.
“We didn’t pour our hearts out or anything.” Adha smirked at him and rested her elbows on the table so she could lean forward, “Since you’re really curious, I’ll throw you a bone. I knew immediately that she didn’t ask for sanctuary.”
“Oh?” Desmond raised an eyebrow as he leaned forward as well.
“She didn’t act like someone who was granted sanctuary but it’s obvious that something weighed heavily in her mind.” Adha said, her tone sounding like she was reporting to the Rafiq and there was definite pride in her voice.
Desmond thought she deserved it. While Maria wasn’t as good as him or Altaïr, she still had a solid poker face. For Adha to have seen right through it only meant that her skills in observation was much better than it had been when she first started as a recruit.
“So she told me that she’s just ‘passing by’.” She snorted, as if it was the saddest excuse for a lie that she had ever heard.
It was not.
Desmond knew that the recruits had lessons on lying and Adha once told him that one of her batchmates suck so badly at lying that he once lied “I saw your husband sleep with a fish”…
… to Oded.
It had been an ‘exercise’ of how to lie under pressure with Oded acting like he was interrogating them.
Oded was single. He had always been single. No one even knew if Oded had any sexual or romantic preferences at all.
So, yeah.
Adha had seen her fair share of bad liars and Maria wasn’t all that bad.
This just made him think that Adha was placing Maria on some kind of pedestal. What kind of pedestal was it?
He wasn’t even sure he wanted to find out.
“So I kept pestering her until I got her to agree to tell me the truth if I beat her in combat.” She shrugged as she added, “Yes, I know she wasn’t at her best when I challenged her but…”
She grinned at him as she repeated the words he once told her, “Assassins don’t play fair.”
Oh, man. Desmond felt like a proud teacher right now.
Cheating her way to victory.
Yup.
She was definitely his disciple.
“And that’s how you learned of her plans?” Desmond pushed their conversation along.
“That’s right. She tried her best to be vague about it but… well…” She leaned back as she continued, “She didn’t expect me to know about the artifacts, that’s for sure.”
Her brows furrowed as she asked, “Speaking of… could I take a look of the artifact you took?”
“She told you about it?” Desmond raised an eyebrow, surprised that Maria talked about the Apple.
“She didn’t say it but her careful use of words during our conversation made it clear that your paths intersected because of an artifact.” She answered before leaning forward once more, “So… may I see it?”
“You already are.”
Adha frowned as she asked, “What do you mean?”
Desmond pointed at the stack of paper to his right where the Apple had been sitting on top of it since they had been in this room where they usually had their lessons.
Adha stared at the golden sphere before turning to look at Desmond as she asked, “You just… left it there? To keep the papers organized?”
“Nope.” Desmond tapped the Apple, making it glow briefly, “I wanted to see if you could hear its whispers.”
“What whispers?” Adha asked. Instead of answering her, Desmond just raised an eyebrow. That small movement was all it took for Adha to understand what Desmond meant.
“Interesting…” Adha moved her upper body so she could see it from different angles as she asked, “Can I touch it?”
“Sure.” Desmond nodded before adding, “Just be careful. The little bitch is good at corrupting people with fake promises of power and shit.”
“Oh, you must love this little thing.” Adha sarcastically commented, noting how vulgar Desmond was when talking about the damn artifact. She poked it first, watching it light up even brighter than when he had poked it.
He narrowed his eyes.
It was clear that the Apple was trying to be enciting.
He leaned back and crossed his arms, watching quietly as Adha grabbed it with her left hand.
The Apple glowed…
… then stopped almost immediately.
“Oh, you’re right. This one’s a bit of a whore, isn’t it?” Adha joked as she threw the Apple up in the air before catching it.
Desmond felt like he should scold her for using a vulgar word but, at the same time, he did start it.
Did this count as being a bad influence?
“Did it try to tempt you?” Desmond asked.
“It gave me a flash of something. The future perhaps?” Adha threw the Apple once more before continuing, “Or maybe it’s showing me the thing I wanted to see the most.”
She was being vague on purpose. It would do Desmond no good to push it. So he just asked, “Do you believe the vision it gave you?”
“No.” She let the Apple fall to the table between them as she continued, “I’m not really inclined to trust something that you’ve already told me is meant to corrupt us humans.”
Desmond smiled at her, making her sigh as she said, “Don’t smile like that. You only smile like that when you’re about to tell me that your brother did something you’re proud of.”
“Alright. I’ll stop.” Desmond said as he deliberately grinned at her, making her roll her eyes. He grabbed the Apple as he chuckled, placing it back inside his pouch as he announced, “Then let’s continue our lesson.”
“We haven’t even started…” She mumbled before asking, “Speaking of, what lesson would that be?”
“If you’re planning to travel with Maria after your initiation then…” Desmond patted the stack of papers on his right and the stacks of books on his left, “You need to be good enough to speak every possible language you might encounter during your travels.”
“Oh…” She stared at all the books and stacks of paper that had taken over the table.
“Of course, I don’t expect you to master them all and become as fluent as someone born and raised in those lands.” He patted both stacks once more as he lightly said, “I will only allow you to join Maria in her travels if you can speak the languages well enough that you can understand their sentence structure and the most commonly used conversations like greetings, invitations for meals, how to find the bathroom and the library…”
She rubbed the bridge of her nose as she listened to him continue to list more and more examples (Desmond was going to be honest, he was just fucking with her by the third example) before asking the most dreaded question of all…
“I suppose… this is only an introductory lesson?”
“Of course.” Desmond replied cheerfully, “Don’t worry, Adha, I asked Altaïr to find you scholars to teach you all the languages you need to learn. Even when I leave for my next mission, I’ll make sure your schedule has been finalized and…”
Desmond gave his adorable disciple a sweet smile, “… you’ll have it all done by the time you have your initiation.”
“This is payback for all the teasing I did yesterday isn’t it?” Adha asked. The resignation was clear in her tone.
“Hm?” Desmond continued to smile sweetly, “Why would you say that? I’m only doing what I must as your mentor, after all.”
Neither of them stated out loud how Desmond didn’t actually answer Adha’s question.
Desmond knew something was up when he heard that Altaïr had been ‘whisked’ away by the Al-Sayf father and son two hours before dinner.
He had been busy taking care of his own paperwork and ensuring that everything would be fine once he left once more. Khalid visited in the afternoon to ask Desmond if Altaïr or Faheem planned to return to the scholar’s tower today. Apparently, Altaïr and the two Al-Sayf men had confined themselves in Faheem and Kadar’s room and Khalid was voted by the scholars to inquire if they would remain ‘leadership-less’ for the remainder of the day (a scary thought, for sure).
Desmond’s first thought was “Eh, it’s probably nothing.”
It took him a few seconds to remember that his brother had misunderstood the entire situation and believed Altaïr had been adopted by the Al-Sayf and that sent red alerts in his mind.
He managed to finish everything that needed to be done by the end of the day in an hour in a flurry of movements powered by fear and dread.
His assistants said nothing. Khalid watched him for a few seconds before telling him that he’d ‘hold the fort’ for the rest of the day.
All Desmond could do was nod at him before rushing to the mentor’s tower.
He expected to be greeted by an argument of some kind. Maybe a scolding. Hell, he was even prepared for a serious discussion that might include Faheem finally getting a stomachache from all the stress he and Altaïr had been giving him all these years.
He did not expect to hear Kadar trying to get his friend to wear something else other than his Master Assassin robes. The door was slightly ajar, letting Desmond hear them without having to come too close.
To be fair, his senses were more heightened than normal people. He was sure that they were speaking soft enough that they shouldn’t have been heard unless those eavesdroppers were next to the door.
Desmond, on the other hand, could just sit at the top of the stairs and listen in. It seemed to be a benign conversation that could even be considered private.
He was still worried that it was a trap though.
Lower Altaïr’s guard by talking about something simple before pouncing on the real subject.
He was just going to listen in until he was sure this wasn’t some kind of trap to interrogate Altaïr about Jalāl’s misunderstanding.
“I really think you should try wearing something… nice. Not that I’m saying our robes aren’t nice! But it’s… you know… your first meeting with Desmond’s parents. Especially his mothers!”
Oh.
Desmond rubbed his face.
He did ask Altaïr this morning if he wanted to have dinner with his family tonight. He wasn’t surprised that Altaïr told Kadar that he had said yes.
He stood just as Altaïr answered, “From the stories Desmond told me of them, I believe they would simply make fun of me if I wear something different.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
Well…
Dvora would definitely tease him, for sure. Nur and Raiza wouldn’t say anything about it though.
He should really leave. He didn’t need to hear this.
“Still… you need to make a good first impression! They’re your mothers-in-law! You don’t want to get on their bad side.”
Desmond’s left foot barely stepped on the next step down when Kadar asked, “Oh, father. Do you have any information about them? Something Altaïr can use to make a good impression?”
Speaking of which… was this why Faheem was dragged into this? Because he had inside information?
Oh, the man was more soft-hearted than he pretended to be.
“I don’t know them.” Faheem’s voice carried the resignation and tiredness of a father that had no choice but to indulge his son’s whims.
“Although…”
Desmond didn’t like that tone.
That was the tone Faheem would have whenever he knew what he was going to say was something Desmond wouldn’t want to hear.
“I do remember one of them. A bit, anyway.” Faheem said, “I don’t remember her name but she’s Adha’s aunt, if I remember correctly.”
Oh, shit.
“Adha’s father, Rekem, was her older brother and, when we were young, I remember that they looked quite similar. Sometimes, they would switch places and we wouldn’t even know it until their father would scold them if they get caught.”
“When we were kids, one of the novices back then would order us kids around to get him food and drink whenever he was patrolling the part of the town we used to go to play. He got a little rough on us one time and hit Rekem hard enough that he fell on his knees. He just scraped his knees, nothing serious. But the next time that novice was patrolling our ‘territory’…”
“Well…”
Desmond was sure Faheem paused for dramatic effect. There was no reason for him to pause at all.
“‘Rekem’ gave him a cup of tea that left him clutching his stomach in pain. Then… he, well, you already know at this point, she beat him up using a stick she brought that day.”
Silence enveloped the entire floor, leaving Desmond to rub the bridge of his nose in ‘peace’.
“All I’m saying is… be careful, Altaïr.”
Oh.
That bastard definitely said that to get back at them for all the years he had to suffer their presence.
Alright then.
Desmond would have to add more stuff for Faheem to look into later.
Payback’s fair game, after all.
Chapter 113
Notes:
A mini-outside POV at the start because I felt like it. Also… smut is uploaded on the Extra story. XD
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Jalāl was an easy child to look after. He listened to adults when they spoke and, whenever he heard something that felt wrong, he would ask someone he trusted for clarification. He was a curious child who believed just as much as he doubted everything he heard.
Everybody knew that Jalāl was the way he was because of his older brother.
Desmond had always showed his younger brother the kindness and patience that a lot of blood related siblings didn’t show each other.
In many ways, Desmond acted more like a second father than a brother. A father figure that was focused more on raising a child than a prince.
As his friend, Zain couldn’t be any more proud whenever he watched over them. Desmond had always been a good man and nothing showed that side of him more than whenever he was with his younger brother.
Alamut was truly lucky to have Desmond as their next mentor.
Zain expected to become Desmond’s guard once he had taken the mantle of mentor. Not because they believe Desmond needed to be protected, of course not.
His family had always guarded the mentors of Alamut, not to protect them but to support them.
And, if necessary, to make the choice to save their life when they would be unable to.
It was also their duty to take the mentor’s life in the event that they served not a teacher but a tyrant. But no one truly talked about that silent burden of theirs.
Zain wasn’t even sure if the current mentor knew about it.
Becoming the mentor’s guard and the Brotherhood’s final blade were duties that Zain had grown up hearing. He didn’t feel any bitterness about the path his family had laid out for him. When he became a recruit, the mentor had told him that he didn’t need to follow the same footsteps that his father and uncle had walked.
Zain didn’t say anything back then. There was nothing to say, after all. He didn’t know if it was a test or if it was real.
More importantly, he thought of everything as a ‘hypothetical’.
The mentor had no children for Zain to watch and think “this one will grow up to be a fine mentor” or “the Brotherhood is doomed if this one doesn’t change and it will be by my blade that the Brotherhood would escape such fate”.
He wasn’t like his father and uncle who grew up with the mentor, being his playmates at a very young age.
And then… Desmond came to Alamut.
They didn’t think he would be adopted immediately. He was a stranger that moved with a grace that was both familiar and unfamiliar to everyone. He hid it well and, had Zain’s father not commented on how easy Desmond weaved through the crowds that one time they saw him delivering medicines to the townspeople, Zain wouldn’t have noticed it.
He made it looked effortless.
As natural as breathing.
It was easy to call Desmond a genius.
But the older Assassins knew that what he had wasn’t something ‘natural’.
What he had was something ‘trained’.
Many believed he was a spy for Masyaf back then, perhaps even the real Altaïr. More believed that he came from a Brotherhood far away, more in tune with their lost past as the Hidden Ones. Zain himself didn’t know either way and he was raised to look for an answer, not make one up.
That was why Desmond was placed in his batch. They had already met back then and even talked a bit while they had been dragging some old forgotten desks. Desmond was kind but he didn’t let anyone come near him.
Zain was old enough to know that the older Assassins who had a lot of sway in the Brotherhood were the ones who placed Desmond in their batch.
It was easy to spy on Desmond using the recruits after all.
The mentor didn’t ask Zain to spy on him. There was no need to, after all. The mentor had made it clear that he planned to support Desmond in digging his roots into Alamut.
They didn’t ask him to support Desmond as well. Becoming Desmond’s friend had been his own decision.
He knew that Hamaal shared the same view as him.
It was easy to become friends with Desmond after all.
Even if it was someone ordered to spy on him.
Zain wondered if Desmond ever realized it. He probably did. Knowing his friend, Desmond probably assumed that there was more than one spy in their batch. Maybe he also thought Zain was a spy.
It wouldn’t be all that surprising if he did.
And, even though Desmond believed that some of his friends were spies, he still let himself grow closer.
He still let them become his friends.
That was what made it easy for Zain to tell the mentor that he planned to follow the same path his father and uncle walked.
It wasn’t because it was his duty.
It was because he was following a man he believed would become the greatest mentor the Brotherhood would ever have.
Had Desmond not come to Alamut, Zain would have been Prince Jalāl’s guard with his cousin.
He didn’t know if he would have shared the same thought.
After all, had Desmond not come to Alamut…
Zain wouldn’t have to watch two stubborn children glare at each other.
“Why do I have to be in danger?” Amal asked with a tone that felt a bit off. Zain assumed she was trying to mimic someone, probably her father or mother.
“‘Cause you’re new.” Jalāl answered, stomping his right foot once as he continued, “New guys get saving!”
Zain felt the desire to correct the prince’s sentence but that would mean throwing himself into the ring and he didn’t want to do that at all.
“But you’re the most important one here.” Amal countered with the very same tone she had been using, “Bad men want you more.”
Zain bit the inside of his cheek.
He couldn’t even smile even though Amal mispronounced some of the words. She seemed to have a problem saying anything that had an ‘s’ and she tended to roll her ‘r’s a bit longer than necessary.
But it wasn’t his place to correct her.
He shared a glanced with the two guards assigned to Amal and they all silently stared at one another. A silent agreement to pretend to be statues so they wouldn’t become part of the future couple’s very first fight passed between them and they continued to stay still, as if a dangerous predator would leave if they just… don’t. move.
“But I wanna fight the djinn!”
“As do I.”
Their glares intensified at the same time their words became much harder to understand, all the ideas of enunciation flying out the window as they become more and more heated conversing with one another.
“Why don’t we just make Kāve the princess then?” Sinem, the daughter of Jerusalem’s previous Rafiq, suggested lightly, pointing at Zain’s poor cousin.
“M-me?” His cousin pointed at himself, as if the very idea of being the princess never crossed his mind.
“But Kāve’s my sidekick.” Jalāl said but Zain could clearly see that the boy was thinking about it.
Jalāl turned to look at Amal who narrowed her eyes as she said, “No.”
Zain wasn’t even sure she knew what the word ‘sidekick’ mean. She probably made a good guess about what it could be based on the fact that it was Kāve’s ‘character’.
“Yeah, just make Kāve the princess and you two can be Assassins sent to save her.” Farida, Kasim’s younger sister, agreed cheerfully.
“Can’t I just be a prince in need of saving?” Kāve dryly asked as he raised his hand.
“Sure. That works too.” Sinem agreed with a nod before turning to look at the two ‘quarreling’ children, “So you two work together to save him.”
“Okay.”
“If I must.”
Zain wanted to sigh in relief. At the very least, it seemed like they dodged an actual fight between the two.
“Kāve, on your knees. I’ll tie you up.”
Zain bit the inside of his cheek once more.
Oh, no. He mustn’t laugh at his cousin’s misfortune.
Desmond came to get Jalāl two hours after the children started to play. He came by just in time to see Farida dramatically scream, throwing herself on a pile of leaves that they had gathered before talking about who got to play who. Sinem was already on top of it, having been vanquished first.
Desmond let his brother pull him towards their ‘victory’ site and he noticed that Sinem seemed to be already taking a nap, blinking rapidly as she woke up thanks to getting hit on the face by Farida’s arm.
Desmond was almost certain that she went down first so she could take a nap.
Altaïr had been walking alongside him but stayed behind to watch, holding a huge bouquet of flowers that threatened to swallow his head.
“You look nice, Altaïr.” Desmond heard Zain say in lieu of a greeting as Altaïr stood next to him. Zain tilted his head as he asked, “Are those… new robes?”
Altaïr sighed was audible through Jalāl’s cheerful report of what happened.
“Kadar wanted me to wear something… else.”
Desmond’s lips twitched as he remembered the many robes scattered around the Al-Sayf room.
Some… more colorful than others.
“I had to compromise with him with this.”
By ‘this’, Altaïr actually meant that Desmond talked to Oded and asked for a set of Master Assassin robes that had never been used before. It wasn’t exactly new. More like an emergency ‘backup’ that was hidden in one of the boxes in the armory for some reason.
Desmond remembered seeing a glimpse of its fabric back when he helped Khalid steal back his experimental bow.
“Oh, dear Assassins, heeeellppp…” Kāve dryly said, still bound on a chair that Desmond was sure wasn’t part of the garden decorations.
Amal stared at the tied up young boy for a moment then turned to face Jalāl. She poked Kāve’s side with her toy sword as she announced, “Foolish man! I now have your princess!”
“Prince.” Kāve quietly corrected.
“Prince.” Amal repeated while Jalāl frowned at them, “If you want to save him, throw down your weapon and surrender to me!”
Okay.
Where the hell did she learned to say that???
“Uuuhhh…” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what to do. A quick glance around made it clear that no one knew what was happening.
Farida immediately stood and shouted, “That’s right! You’re so awesome, master! You’ve fooled the Assassin!”
“Oh, uuhh, yeah. We got beat up because it’s part of your… great… plan?” Senim tried to follow up with the new plot but Desmond had the feeling she knew that, had this been the plan all along, it would have made more sense for all three of them to gang up on the supposed ‘Assassin’.
Jalāl stared at them, tilting his head to the side then turned to look at Kāve before saying, “Okay. You can have him.”
“Prince?!” Kāve spluttered.
“Let’s go, De. I’m hungry.” Jalāl grabbed Desmond’s hand and pulled it.
“Dinner time? I’ll go too.” Amal handed the toy sword to Senim and walked towards them without even a single glance to her supposed betrayal.
Oh, wow. It was only the second day and they were agreeing over food. That was a good sign, right?
Senim and Farida looked at one another before Senim said, “We should go home too.”
“Yeah. Let’s play again tomorrow!” Farida suggested with a grin.
“Can we?” Jalāl asked Desmond with bright hopeful eyes. Amal stayed quiet as she stood in front of them but she was staring at Desmond, waiting for him to answer.
“Of course. But only after you finish all your lessons for the day, okay?”
“Yes!” Amal answered at the same time Jalāl said, “Okay!”
“Ummm… can someone untie me… please?”
Desmond expected dinner to be awkward. It was the first time Altaïr was invited to the harem, after all, and there was no way his father was going to help out.
That man was going to keep quiet and watch from the sideline, silently supporting his wives.
Just thinking about it gave Desmond a headache.
… Desmond wasn’t even sure if it was okay for Altaïr, a man, to be invited in the harem in the first place.
None of the servants batted an eye or even looked at Altaïr with anything close to contempt. An old servant glanced at him before nodding at Desmond as if to silently tell him that she approved of his ‘catch’.
She was probably the oldest woman in all of Alamut, being old enough to be his grandmother. Desmond wasn’t sure how he should feel about someone that old thinking “yeah, I get how you’d want to tap that” but…
Well, at least she had good taste.
“We hope you like the food, Altaïr.” Dvora said with a smile, naturally becoming the spokesperson among the three, “Desmond never told us what your favorite food was so we just asked them to prepare Desmond’s favorites.”
There was a hint of disappointment in her tone and Desmond knew it was because Dvora wanted to hear more about Altaïr.
Unfortunately for her, Desmond knew that what she was interested in was the ‘juicy’ details and there was no way in hell Desmond was sharing that to one of his mothers.
… or to any of his parents.
“I’ve enjoyed all the food I’ve had in Alamut.” Altaïr answered and there was stiffness in his delivery that Desmond could only guess came from whatever drivel Faheem told him about one of the women in the room.
“Then here’s hoping these are to your taste as well.” Dvora said lightly before clapping, “That’s right. We should have tea after.”
Desmond bumped his shoulder against Altaïr as he suggested, “I’ll make the tea.”
Seeing Nur’s eyebrow raise, he immediately added, “az-Zahir gifted me a box of tea.”
“I think you all would like it.” He turned to smile at Altaïr as he asked, “It was quite good when we drank it with him last time, right?”
Desmond knew that Altaïr would easily remember it as the same tea that he had when he met the young sultan and nodded, “Yes. It had a smoky taste that went well with honey bread.”
“No wonder Desmond liked it. That boy does love honey bread.” Dvora commented.
“That boy is right here.” Desmond mumbled but didn’t bother to cut off their conversation.
“Can I join?” Jalāl piped up just as Nur added more vegetables to his plate.
“Of course.” Dvora nodded, “It’s not every day that your brother prepares tea for us. I mean…”
Dvora smirked as she teased, “Altaïr should have dinner with us more. That might make our dear older son make us tea more often.”
“I can make you guys tea any time.” Desmond sighed.
“Excuse our son, he can be quite slow at times.” Nur said to Altaïr, ignoring Desmond’s little splutter, “Dvora was trying to be subtle about it but what we mean is that we hope you would join us for dinner more often, Altaïr.”
Oh.
Now, Desmond felt bad.
“I was also teasing our son.” Dvora added without any hint of shame.
Now, Desmond didn’t feel bad at all.
Dvora and Nur looked at Raiza and…
Desmond actually feel bad for her. He knew that Raiza wasn’t good with people in general and it didn’t really help that Faheem told Altaïr an old story that didn’t paint a good picture of her.
And he was sure Altaïr knew who she was because she looked a bit like Adha…
Just a bit.
Not enough for Desmond to recognize their connection immediately but they looked similar enough that Altaïr would notice it after hearing that one of Desmond’s mothers was Adha’s aunt.
Raiza looked at her plate for a second before she stared at Altaïr.
Desmond was already afraid of what she was going to say and was ready to follow through when…
“Did you know that Desmond threatened to pluck all of Bennu’s feathers when he was a child?”
Desmond’s ears brightened quickly as he immediately corrected, “I was sixteen, oh my god! And Bennu deserved it.”
Bennu, who had been quietly eating his plate of meat, let out an affronted shrill.
“Oh, you know what you did.” Desmond narrowed his eyes at the eagle.
Dvora leaned towards Altaïr and whispered, “He was sparring with his batchmates and Bennu distracted him by flying near his head just as he was about to win.”
Dvora’s smile turned more devious as she asked, “Has he ever told you about how he almost got sent to the dungeons because he helped his friend steal from the armory?”
Desmond groaned.
He didn’t even knew that was on the table when he helped Khalid steal back his confiscated bow.
But that wasn’t a defense he could make right now.
Goddammit.
He was worried that they would grill Altaïr.
He should have been more worried about the amount of embarrassing stories they had about him.
“So… what did you think?” Desmond asked once they returned to the privacy of their room.
“I’m sure the weather would continue to be this cold during the evening. You’re in your rights to ask your mothers if they already made plans with the seamstress for Amal’s clothes.” Altaïr said and Desmond’s lips curved into a small soft smile as he understood that Altaïr was talking their previous conversation.
That was on Desmond. He asked the burning question that continued to knock on his mind their entire walk back from dinner and after-dinner tea but didn’t give enough context for Altaïr to understand that it was a different topic all together.
“Yeah, I’ll talk to them tomorrow about it. They probably already have a list of clothes Amal should have. I’ll just remind them that she should also have clothes for that strange winter we had last year.” Desmond sighed as he added, “Just in case.”
He sat on the mountain of pillows and turned to look at Altaïr as he asked, “So… what do you think of my parents?”
“Your father seemed fine quietly watching all of us.” Altaïr reported, making Desmond raise an eyebrow at his tone.
Knowing that Desmond was silently reminding him that he sounded like he was reporting to the Rafiq, Altaïr hummed.
Desmond was used to it.
Altaïr’s hum usually meant he was trying not to feel embarrassed. Altaïr unbuckled his belt and placed it on the desk as he continued in a calmer tone, “They were welcoming and…”
He stared at his left hand as he asked, “Your mothers are Assassins, aren’t they?”
Desmond took off his belt as well and placed it next to the pile of pillows, “What makes you think that?”
“They didn’t make any sounds.” Altaïr noted as he turned to face Desmond, he unbuckled his hidden blade and placed it on the desk as he continued, “No matter what they picked up, there was no sound. Even the fabric of their clothes didn’t make any sounds at all.”
Desmond stared at him for a moment before he said, “It’s not my place to say.”
“You know an answer like that is already an admission by itself, right?” Altaïr asked as he took off his sash, carefully folding it before placing it on the desk.
He unbuckled his belt next as Desmond said, “Only if you want it to be.”
Altaïr chuckled before saying, “We should change.”
“We should.” Desmond stood and stretched his arms above his his head, “Nightgowns are much more comfortable to sleep in, after all.”
He walked towards Altaïr and lightly gripped the fabric of his robes as he was unbuckling his right arm guard, “Or… we can help each other out?”
“Is that also a porno line?” Altaïr lightly joked as he placed his arm guard on the table, making Desmond laugh as he rested both of his arms on Altaïr’s shoulders.
“Yeah… it definitely sounds like one.” Desmond agreed and closed his eyes as he felt Altaïr’s lips against his.
The following day, Desmond woke up to the feeling of Aquila’s beak pulling his hair.
He opened his eyes and sighed, rubbing the side of the eagle’s head as he mumbled, “’morning.”
He sighed as he closed his eyes.
Aquila being here meant that Peredur had returned.
… with the stuff they stole from the Templars.
Notes:
Just to be clear, Zain’s narration uses the word ‘mentor’ to describe Diya al-Dīn because that’s what he knows to be true.
Chapter 114
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
Today was a busy day for both Altaïr and Desmond. Because Altaïr usually spent his time helping out the scholars while he was in Alamut, he was roped into organizing the books Peredur brought with him while another team was organizing the other items like jewelry and possible ancient artifacts of great value. Most of the books would be given to the scholars but there might be a few books that needed to be ‘locked’ away because it held information about the crusaders (and, more specifically, the Templar Order) that might paint a target on their back.
Both of them knew the ‘worst’ of these items had been taken out already when Altaïr checked every single one back in Cyprus. He had a lot of time to do a thorough job while Desmond was busy trying to fend off an unnecessary marriage proposal after all.
Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. Altaïr only removed the ones connected to Minerva’s kin after all, not things that the Brotherhood would deem ‘items of interest’ like personal journals detailing their enemies’ movements.
Also, people would ask questions if Altaïr was to say no.
It was less “they’re hiding something” and more “Altaïr just said no to checking out books! Is he sick? Is he dying???”
It said a lot that Desmond knew that this wasn’t an exaggeration. Those scholars had adopted Altaïr easily, seeing a kindred spirit full of greed for knowledge.
So, yeah.
Altaïr was never going to say no to reading books, even if he was ‘ordered’ to just skim them.
That was fine with Desmond.
Altaïr enjoyed reading and talking to the scholars. There was no way Desmond was going to take that away from him.
Also…
This gave him an excuse to annoy Faheem.
… by siccing Khalid on him.
Normally, Khalid would just go on his merry way, continuing his research and maybe bothering Altaïr once in a while because Altaïr always had interesting ideas or comments whenever Khalid talked about his slowing research (or if he was just bored).
Khalid also enjoyed visiting Desmond to help out or just talk, sometimes about his research, sometimes about the scholars. Sometimes, even about Altaïr.
So Desmond wasn’t surprised when Khalid decided to visit him after breakfast.
“I heard Peredur’s back.” Khalid said in lieu of greeting as Desmond arranged the stacks of paper and parchments on his desk into two separate piles. Khalid eyed the desk before offering, “I can take over for a few hours if you want to see him.”
Desmond glanced at Khalid as he leaned against the door frame.
It sounded like a kind gesture from someone who knew how close Desmond was with his batchmates.
But Desmond knew that Khalid must have realized that something was up.
It wasn’t that surprising. Everyone knew that Desmond was the one that gave the mission to Peredur to go to Cyprus and ‘recover’ countless items from the crusaders under their noses.
Khalid must have guessed that there must be a hidden mission or something similar because Desmond asked someone he trusted to do this mission alone (with the help of sailors, of course).
There was a reason why Khalid had been seen as a possible successor by his parents, after all.
“You’re offering?” Desmond lightly asked instead of immediately agreeing. He raised an eyebrow as he teased, “What’s the catch?”
“I’m bored.” Khalid dramatically answered, stepping inside and leaning against one of the tables that Desmond’s assistants used, “Altaïr is busy checking all the goodies but I’m not even allowed to step inside the room. This is blatant favoritism.”
Yeah.
By a group of Assassins that knew Khalid would get sidetracked reading some interesting book instead of helping with the organization.
Desmond kept organizing the paperwork in front of him as he joked, “Aawww, poor Khalid. Left alone in the rain while the other kids play inside.”
“I am heartbroken, Desmond. Truly heartbroken.” Khalid joined in as he lounged on the table in what Desmond could only describe as a fusion of the ‘draw me like one of your French girls, Jack’ Titanic reference and ‘Victorian woman having a fainting spell’ as described by an asshole thinking he was a gentleman.
Desmond’s poor assistant had to grab his own paperwork to keep it from becoming collateral damage.
“As much as I’m grateful for the offer, my assistants have me covered.” Desmond said with a grin, “But you can help me with something you’re going to enjoy.”
“Oh?” Khalid gracefully slid off the table and stood in front of Desmond, eyes gleaming with anticipation because Desmond had never been wrong when he used the word ‘enjoy’ to describe something that he wanted Khalid’s help with.
Desmond placed a quarter of the stack to his right in the middle, pushing it slightly towards Khalid as he explained, “Since Altaïr is busy today, I don’t have anyone to take these to Faheem.”
Khalid nodded cheerfully, knowing full well any older scholars could have been Altaïr’s substitute. Hell, it might give him another stomachache but Nahel was more than qualified as a substitute as well.
“I’m sure Faheem would be delighted to accept my help with these as well.” Khalid commented with a knowing look.
“Of course. It would be torture if he was to take care of all of these by himself.” Desmond agreed with a sweet smile.
“Alrighty then.” Khalid grabbed the stack with the casualness of a man knowing full well what was being asked of him and enjoying everything about this entire thing, “I’ll be a good friend and help out.”
“Thanks, Khalid.” Desmond said, unable to hide the sincerity in his voice. Thankfully, Khalid didn’t tease him about it even though they both knew he noticed.
Instead, he gave Desmond a wink as he joked, “If you’re really grateful, maybe whisper to your younger brother that I have a wonderful daughter who would be a great second wife.”
Desmond laughed, knowing full well his friend was joking. Still, he watched Khalid walk out of the office as he said, “How about I just make sure you have double the supplies next time?”
Khalid actually made the finger gun gesture (this was his fault, this was the consequences to his actions, oh god) as he said, “Now that… is even better. I’ll make sure to support Faheem aaaaalll day.”
Desmond chuckled as he shook his head, hearing Khalid whistle long after he could no longer be seen.
Once Khalid’s whistle could no longer be heard, he turned to face his assistants as he said, “With Faheem taken care of- I mean, with Faheem getting some much needed support for the day…”
He knew both of his assistants noticed the slip but they didn’t say anything about it.
They were probably more worried about the large stacks of paper and parchments still left on Desmond’s desk.
He patted the smallest stack to his right as he said, “These are all urgent matters I’ll finish as soon as I can.”
He patted the larger stack next to it, “These are matters that I have to look at but they’re not urgent so I’ll just leave them here and these…”
He quickly tapped three large stacks, almost making a few rolled up parchments roll off the top of the stacks, “These are all yours.”
The scholars looked at the stacks looming over them and they sighed.
“Overtime pay?” One of them asked.
“And three days paid leave.” Desmond added, “As long as-”
“We don’t take a vacation at the same time.” They repeated the same request Desmond always made whenever this happened.
Ah.
Having wonderful subordinates to take care of most of the paperwork was the best.
It took Desmond two hours to take care of everything that needed to be taken care of today. He was sure he was going to pay for such freedom tomorrow when the remaining paperwork doubled in size but that was a problem for future him.
After that, he returned to the mentor’s tower and went up to the floor where Faheem’s room was located.
“Good morning, Desmond!” A young recruit greeted him, pausing his cleaning of the window to bow at him.
“Good morning, Ayn.” He greeted back. He was one of the recruits usually tasked with cleaning the mentor’s tower and, from what Altaïr told him, Ayn was the recruit who brought him supplies for his… carpentry practice.
He walked past Ayn and knocked on Peredur’s room.
To be more accurate, it was Peredur’s writing room. All of Alamut agreed that Peredur spent more time there than he did in his actual room back in the shadow’s tower.
It was for the best in everyone’s eyes. There would have been bloodbath if Peredur continued to write at ungodly hours in a room he shared with three more Assassins.
“Come in!” Peredur shouted from the other side of the room and Desmond opened the door quietly.
“Hey, man. Welcome home.” Desmond casually greeted, his lips instinctively forming into a smile.
“Desmond! Oh! Morning!” Peredur greeted back, “Come in! Excuse the mess…”
“It’s fine.” Desmond stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him, giving the room a quick glance over.
It wasn’t all that bad. There were more stacks of paper in this room than Desmond’s office, some of which had taken over the cot Peredur must have been using to sleep.
There were also boxes littered everywhere. None of them were stacked high up which was a good thing. There was no chance of Peredur getting his head hit by a falling box.
“Thanks, Peredur.” Desmond said quietly as he walked towards his friend.
“I would have found a way to smuggle it, you know.” Peredur told him lightly as he placed a book on his writing desk. It didn’t look like one of his books and Desmond guessed it was from the scholar’s tower or maybe he bought it somewhere.
“I’d rather not risk it.” Desmond shook his head as he said, “Did Kasim ask anything?”
“Nope.” Peredur pressed his back against the desk as he crossed his arms, “I wasn’t sure if it was the right call, letting him tag along…”
“It was.” Desmond said calmly, “He was being hounded by both the Saracens and the crusaders in Jerusalem. Hiding him in your cart while you were pretending to be a merchant was the right call.”
“If you say so. Still a bit iffy about it considering his father’s… ‘friends’.” Peredur commented, showing all of his displeasure with the political side of the Brotherhood, “I dropped the box in that secret tunnel that Aquila showed me but I’m pretty sure Kasim realized what I did.”
“It’s fine.” Desmond walked towards the window and looked outside, “He’s not going to say anything…”
“Even to his father?” Peredur reminded him.
Kasim was a good man and a good son.
Desmond turned to look back at Peredur and smiled, “It’ll be fine. I’ll talk to his father later about this.”
“Alright, just let me know if you want me to pretend to be you for a bit so you can run away with Altaïr if things get dicey.” Peredur offered lightly but Desmond understood the implications of his words.
If things were to turn, as he said, ‘dicey’…
Peredur was offering to place himself in danger to give Desmond time to run away.
It was a scary thought but, at the same time…
“I’m offended that you think I’ll run away if things do go down in the Brotherhood.” Desmond exaggerated the idea of being hurt by Peredur’s words, placing a hand dramatically on his chest.
“You won’t kill our brothers just because they misunderstood their actions.” Peredur said before grinning, “Besides, I’m the best body double here in Alamut.”
He puffed his chest as he proclaimed, “They can’t kill me unless they want the scholars to riot over the loss of their golden goose.”
Desmond was sure that the scholars didn’t just like Peredur because he brought them lots of profits and Peredur knew that.
He still accepted Peredur’s offer to stir the conversation away to something more lighthearted as he asked, “Have any plans later? We can have lunch with Altaïr and Kadar if you’re free.”
“That would be great.” Peredur rolled his shoulder as he said, “But, hey, if you’re free till then, how about a little match?”
Desmond raised an eyebrow as he followed Peredur out of his room, “Sure, if you want your ass handed to you before we eat, I’m game.”
Peredur laughed as he stepped to the side after opening the door, “Let’s fight so dirty Oded will look at us like we’ve disappointed him and his entire bloodline.”
“That’s a tall order.” Desmond stepped out of the room and waited just outside as Peredur looked the door behind him, “Oded likes seeing everyone fight dirty.”
“Good point.” Peredur hummed as he rested his arm on Desmond’s shoulder. It was a bit awkward walking side by side like this considering Desmond was taller but they had perfected this kind of walking back when they were recruits.
“I got it!” Peredur grinned as he suggested, “Let’s get the recruits to play hooky today!”
“Oh?” Desmond tilted his head slightly, wondering what Peredur meant by that.
“Today, the recruits will be having a tournament with live commentary from the both of us!”
Before Desmond could say anything, Ayn let out a sound that was more like a squeak than anything the human voice should be able to produce.
“Really?!”
Seeing the kid being so excited he was vibrating made Desmond nod as he let out a smile, “Go tell the others, Ayn.”
“Yes! Of course! You got it! I’m on it!” Ayn’s words continued to be disjointed and as quick as he rushed out of the tower.
Desmond looked at Peredur as he said with a grin, “Fine. Let’s make the recruits’ day.”
“You’ll be leaving tomorrow with Altaïr once more?” Diya al-Dīn asked as Desmond helped him organize the medicinal plants on the table. It brought back memories of the past when they were simply the doctor and the errand boy.
Now, here they were…
Passing the time before dinner because they both cleared everything they needed to do to keep Alamut up and running for the next few months.
“Yeah. It’ll be better if we leave for another ‘mission’ before you leave with the others.” Desmond turned to look at him as he asked, “I’m still a bit worried about the fact that you’re leaving without your guards.”
“They must guard my double so people won’t realize I’ve left. Also…” Diya al-Dīn placed more dried leaves into the jar in front of him, “The best way to ensure that my double doesn’t make any mistakes is to have my two closest friends support him.”
Desmond understood that this plan made sense. His father’s double was a scholar who kept his face hidden and only visited the tower once every few months to return books and borrow new ones.
Desmond met him a couple of time. He wasn’t a perfect ‘copy’ by any means but he looked like Desmond’s father enough that it made sense that he would be the imam’s double. He had to lower his voice to sound like Diya al-Dīn though.
It was fine.
They weren’t trying to fool the Brotherhood but any spy that was still lurking in the town underneath the castle.
The Brotherhood would learn of Diya al-Dīn’s absence a few days after he left with the others.
There was going to be a lot of complaining for sure but they would understand it.
The ‘mentor’ needed to be the one to condemn Rashid, not some spokesperson.
That was the best way to show how serious the allegations were.
“I asked Peredur to join you.” Desmond informed him.
“If that is what I need to endure for my son’s peace of mind then I will endure.” Diya al-Dīn said with a smile, making Desmond sigh.
“It won’t give me peace of mind but it’ll help.” Desmond admitted.
They continued to organize the medicinal plants in silence for a bit more before Diya al-Dīn said, “I’d appreciate it if you can make my future entourage as stealthy as possible.”
“They’re Assassins. They’re meant to be stealthy.” Desmond dryly said, not denying his father’s suspicion that Desmond was planning to organize a retinue of guards for his father, not just Peredur.
Hell, if it was up to Desmond, he would have escorted his father himself.
But they both knew Desmond needed to leave Alamut first to contact the other teams to ensure everything was proceeding according to their plan.
There were already contingencies in place but it was necessary that Desmond know about everything that was happening beyond Alamut and to make any adjustments they had to before they ‘storm’ Masyaf.
“Now, what’s the real reason why you’re here?” Diya al-Dīn asked as his smile grew, “Not that I don’t like spending time with you, of course, but…”
He didn’t finish his sentence but Desmond understood what he was trying to say. For all intents and purposes, Desmond had taken over most of Diya al-Dīn’s responsibilities as the mentor. His father was sorta-kinda half-retired at this point.
That was why his father knew that Desmond should still have a lot of things to do.
“I’m hiding from Faheem.” Desmond admitted with a grin.
“Ah, I heard what you’ve done.” Diya al-Dīn chuckled softly as he shook his head.
“I didn’t do anything. Khalid was the one who got other scholars to ‘visit’ Faheem because he rejected their proposals.”
“I heard a few of them said that Altaïr would have accepted their proposals in front of Faheem.” Diya al-Dīn whispered, as if they were gossiping the latest scandal in their quiet little town. He shook his head as he said in his normal voice, “You have to give it to them. They’re braver than most Assassins in the face of an Al-Sayf’s expression of disappointment and annoyance.”
Desmond chuckled. From the sound of it, his father was speaking from experience.
“So I can’t ask you to help me out and talk to Faheem for me?” Desmond lightly asked.
“Absolutely not.” Diya al-Dīn immediately answered, patting Desmond’s back as he said, “My son… this is one battle you must fight on your own.”
Desmond couldn’t help but burst out laughing at how serious his father sounded.
But he was right.
Sooner or later, he would have to face Faheem’s wrath.
He was just making sure it was quite later.
“And? What’s the real reason why you’re here?” Diya al-Dīn asked lightly, making Desmond sigh.
“After the dust settles and Masyaf gets back on its feet, we’re going on our honeymoon.” Desmond announced, stopping what he was doing to stare at his father.
Diya al-Dīn continued to arrange the medicinal plants as he said, “I see.”
He closed the lid of one of the bottles as he commented, “I do hope you find some time to enjoy your honeymoon during your travels then.”
It was the first time his father acknowledged that he knew this supposed honeymoon wasn’t as lighthearted as it appeared to be.
“It won’t be all work, I promise.” Desmond said with a grin, “I’ll tell my mothers about it later at dinner too.”
“Good. It would be awkward if you tell them the day you’re leaving.” Diya al-Dīn joked, knowing full well that Desmond would never do such a thing. He smiled as he added, “I should tell you that making this the topic of discussion later at dinner will not stop them from sharing more stories about you to your husband.”
“Damn it.” Desmond dryly said, making his father laugh.
It was worth a shot anyway.
Chapter 115
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
When he was younger, he thought it was impossible to count all of the books in Masyaf. To a child, Masyaf’s library was the biggest library in the world.
He realized how childish that thought had been when he was allowed to leave Masyaf after becoming a novice. The books in the bureaus paled in comparison to Masyaf but the libraries in many of the places he had been to proved that Masyaf’s own library wasn’t the biggest at all.
It became a pastime of his, slipping inside one of the libraries without a care if it was open to the public or not. All that mattered was that he was finished with the tasks given to him by the Rafiq. After his task was done, he could spend the rest of the day reading. Only returning to the bureau when it was time to report.
He never considered it a hobby before.
It was a way to pass the time, that’s all it was to him.
The knowledge he received…
The stories he remembered to this day…
They were all just to pass the time.
And then…
He saw Alamut’s tower for the scholars. The tower was order and chaos living to create a unique tune. A tune that was disjointed when the instruments were played separately but created a harmony that should never have existed when played together. Every day, countless scholars organized the books that would simply be taken away and placed elsewhere by the end of the day. Every day some petty argument would break out because a few scholars disagreed with one another or because someone had hogged a book far too long that another person who had been waiting for it finally snapped.
In that midst of chaos were groups of scholars who discussed different topics, debated with one another, and, most of the time, came to a conclusion they agreed with.
It wasn’t special.
Not really.
Altaïr had seen such practice before. Scholars were similar to one another most of the time, regardless of where they were from.
What was different this time was how they treated Altaïr.
They talked to him. They asked for his opinions.
They saw him.
In Masyaf, everyone pretended that he wasn’t there when he was reading. A few of them would strike a conversation but they would mostly ask something about training or his previous missions.
Outside of Masyaf, Altaïr made sure to hide in places where no one would see him. Even if it was a public library, he still held on to the same habit he developed back when he was sneaking into private libraries.
But here in Alamut, everyone knew him.
Not as Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, the Master’s favorite.
They didn’t even see him as an arrogant man who supposedly wouldn’t take even a few seconds to help anyone.
No.
Here in Alamut he was, first and foremost, Desmond’s husband.
In Masyaf, people rarely talked to him because of his connection to Rashid and because of his supposed personality.
Here though…
It didn’t matter if Altaïr was to say something that sounded arrogant. They all knew how he acted around Desmond.
They’ve seen and heard him.
Perhaps Altaïr should consider it some kind of insult but he wasn’t offended at all.
To be called a ‘fool for love’ was something he took pride in. It meant that he was able to show his feelings for Desmond in a way that others noticed too.
No one mistook his actions for anything else.
And that was the most important thing for Altaïr.
Falling in love with Desmond had been a journey in many ways but loving him?
That was as easy as breathing.
Perhaps they saw him in a different light because of his love for Desmond.
Maybe the kindness and patience Desmond showed everyone before Altaïr even came to Alamut vouched for him.
Whatever the reason may be, Altaïr found himself at peace even as the scholar’s tower descended into chaos over some research topic or another.
He found himself using the knowledge from a book he read a decade ago to help a scholar currently, as Desmond liked to call in, ‘in a slump’.
Before long, it became a norm for him to spend his days between the scholar’s tower and the shadow’s tower, talking to Assassins and scholars alike.
The Assassins here talked to him about everything and anything. Training, philosophy…
Even stories about the past that Altaïr wasn’t even a part of.
Many times, they requested to spar, not to show that they were better than him but to learn from him. None of them tried to ‘sugarcoat’ their words and he did the same. They both told each other what they thought about how they fought, what their weaknesses were or where they could improve. Almost all of them warned him of the same thing… that he fought like he didn’t care if he lost a limb or his own life.
Oded sternly talked about it more than once.
It was something that Altaïr thought was ‘normal’.
It was only after Rahim asked him if he would think it was okay if Desmond was to act the same as him, without a care of losing any limbs, that he understood that they were telling him this not as a perceived weakness but as their way of worrying about him.
Altaïr was trying but it was more than a decade of training that needed to be fixed. It would take some time.
‘Time’ that turned to frustration more often than Altaïr would have liked to admit.
The scholars and their tower of knowledge served to give Altaïr a chance to relax from that personal training of his.
Being with them, talking to them…
It felt natural that he started to look after the many documents that passed through the entirety of the tower on a daily basis. Most of them were pushed into his face as he was enthusiastically asked what he thought of the proposals and research papers that held their dreams and hard work.
He found no reason to lie, speaking the truth of how he felt. But he learned from watching others, even Desmond himself, that it wasn’t enough to say what one felt. People usually liked it if a suggestion was given or a detailed explanation was provided.
So Altaïr did the same.
He explained which part he thought was the weakest or needed to be elaborated on more. He gave his honest thoughts and let his words flow into suggestions and random ideas that popped into his head whenever he felt like it.
Before long, it became normal for him to read documents before they were sent to Faheem.
No one planned for it as far as Altaïr knew.
It just… happened.
That was when Faheem asked him a simple question that made Altaïr pause.
“What do you plan to do in the future? And before you torture me with an answer like ‘whatever Desmond wants’, I’m asking about your plans for something that you want to do that isn’t connected to Desmond.”
It would be easy to say ‘to serve as the Brotherhood’s blade’. It was a better answer than ‘to do what master commands’ which would have left his lips years back.
But…
Faheem had a reason to ask such a question back then.
He must have seen something in Altaïr’s actions in the scholar’s tower. Something Altaïr himself ignored.
“I don’t know.” was the answer that left his lips but they both knew that wasn’t right.
Altaïr felt that it was inappropriate for him to make plans that concerned not just himself but Alamut as well.
From how Faheem sighed and acted after hearing Altaïr’s answer, it was safe to assumed he understood the words Altaïr could not say out loud.
About a sweet dream Altaïr couldn’t find himself accepting because it felt a little… Altaïr wasn’t sure what the word he was looking for. It felt like he was stepping into the role of a person everyone told him he could never become.
So, yes, he did know that Faheem was trying to give him more and more opportunities to show that he was worthy to become the head of the scholar’s tower. To dig his roots somewhere in Alamut that was solely his and not something he received for being Desmond’s husband. Faheem was old enough to retire after all and, with Kadar in Alamut with him, it wouldn’t be such a strange timing to retire.
… especially with the laws Desmond passed that supported retired Assassins and informants.
And it wasn’t like he would be bound to Alamut if he became the head of the scholar’s tower, unable to leave its safety. Just like Desmond, he would delegate to others.
… and Altaïr already knew that Khalid was not allowed to have any deciding power in the scholar’s tower.
It wasn’t that Khalid would abuse it. He just enjoyed teasing others so much that the scholars would attempt a coup, less because they wanted to kick Khalid out and more as an excuse to recreate historical coups.
One might think Altaïr was exaggerating but there were already a tentative plan on how the scholars would coup. Altaïr would know…
He helped planned it.
In his defense, it was a ‘what if’ scenario that captured almost everyone’s attention, earning a spot in the elusive ‘times most of the scholars actually agree with one another’ in the history of their tower.
He was sure Desmond would find it hilarious if the scholars staged a fake coup while Faheem was still the head of the tower.
The two of them seemed to have started their own little harmless war for some reason and Altaïr knew he was caught in the middle, having suffered through Faheem’s little story about Desmond’s mother.
Speaking of whom…
There was something about Desmond’s mothers that knocked on Altaïr’s head for some reason. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was but he felt the need to stay alert the entire time they were having dinner.
It wasn’t because he felt like he was in danger or that Desmond may be in danger instead of him.
But…
He supposed ‘danger’ would still apply to how he felt back then.
It just wasn’t the danger of being harmed or killed.
It felt more like the danger of being judged by someone who held all the power.
He wondered if that was what it felt like to be in the presence of parents who loved their children.
A part of him wanted to believe it was as innocuous as that but he couldn’t help but think that it was more than that.
He was missing something important.
A puzzle piece that would bridge another ‘theory’ he felt like he should know already.
And he already had a clue. Desmond neither confirming nor denying his question about his mothers’ connection to the Brotherhood was a hint all by itself.
Desmond thought it would be best if Altaïr learned the truth from his mothers. Altaïr didn’t mind. He wasn’t in any rush to figure things out.
There was no reason to be hasty about it.
Relaxing and taking it slow…
It was easy to do such things in Alamut.
Today’s agenda of skimming through books and journals he already gave a look over once before fell into the ‘category’ of taking it slow.
He knew that there wasn’t any truly dangerous in any of these books that might point at Minerva’s kin or give away Adha’s lineage as one of the few surviving descendants of those who came before.
Ah. That also counted one of Desmond’s mothers, didn’t it? Adha’s aunt… the one who observed everything with a quiet intensity that made Altaïr’s ‘desire’ to stay alert grow more urgent.
He knew that Desmond was adopted and had been in Alamut since he was sixteen but…
It was clear that he got some of his parents’ habits.
Or maybe it was possible they got some of his?
Either way, the way Adha’s aunt looked at him from time to time reminded Altaïr of how Desmond would look at people he was analyzing.
For some reason, Altaïr felt the need to show off his swordsmanship more than once as if it would help him stay alive.
Maybe Faheem’s little story did get to him more than he thought.
“Altaïr.”
What was the phrase Desmond used for this kind of situation? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?
Not that he was saying Adha was the devil.
It was simply funny how she appeared while his thoughts had flitted over to her aunt as he was skimming through a journal filled with harvest summaries a hundred years ago.
Truly riveting stuff…
“Adha.” He nodded at her as he closed the journal. He already skimmed through the last page so he placed it in the ‘safe’ pile as he stood. Adha remained by the door with her arms crossed, waiting for him to come closer because she didn’t have permission to enter the room.
No one scolded Altaïr for stopping his work and he didn’t bother to step out of the room, preferring to stand in front of Adha, the two of them standing on either side of the door without a care of whoever might be listening.
If Adha wanted a private conversation, she would have made it clear when she called his name.
Altaïr still glanced around to make sure there was no one hiding outside the room, not that it was possible considering how empty the hallway was.
Maria was leaning against an open window a few feet behind Adha and their eyes met. He nodded at her and she nodded back.
That was good enough of a greeting between them.
“Is there anything I can assist you with?” Altaïr asked Adha as he focused on his childhood friend.
“Desmond is busy providing commentary for a tournament right now.” Adha informed him. It said a lot that she knew Altaïr long enough that she immediately understood his little head tilt meant he was asking some question he felt that he didn’t need to say outright (usually ‘And?’ or ‘Why are you telling me this?’). She didn’t even show any annoyance to it and simply explained, “It’s a tournament for recruits but I’ve been forbidden to join it because, according to Desmond, I need to focus on my languages.”
He understood where Desmond was coming from. What Adha wanted to do after being initiated was dangerous. Even if Maria was with her, she would still be traveling to unknown lands without any other support.
Making sure she could communicate with as many people as possible was the least Desmond could do to lessen his worry.
But Altaïr had a feeling that Adha wasn’t here to simply complain about how unfair it was that she wasn’t allowed to ‘kick some ass’.
“I see…” Altaïr rubbed his chin as he asked, “Are you asking me to help you play ‘hooky’ so that Desmond won’t scold you too much?”
Adha’s eyes gleamed as she nodded, “Just a bit. I have a short break and I figured you would have the best stories to tell about the lands near Masyaf.”
She stepped to the side slightly so Altaïr could see Maria easier as she continued, “Maria hasn’t been to a lot of places around those parts like me and we’re curious how similar or different they would be from what we know.”
Altaïr stared at the two of them before turning to look at the other Assassins still organizing everything.
“Go take a short break, Altaïr.” One of the older Assassins suggested lightly, “After you return, I’ll take a short break too.”
“We should make a list.” Another Assassin suggested, “So we can organize which of us would take a break first.”
“I’m still good. I can be the last on the list.”
“Well, I’d rather take a break sooner than later. Go ahead, Altaïr.”
“Remember you can’t bring any drinks or food inside so if you’re feeling a bit hungry or thirsty, go eat or drink something while you’re on your break.”
“Thank you.” Altaïr nodded at them before stepping out the room. He could hear them tell him to have a good break or something similar as he closed the door behind him and walked next to Adha. Maria waited for them to pass her before following them, staying behind them.
“So… what do you really need from me?” Altaïr asked quietly.
“We don’t need anything from you.” Adha dryly stated before saying with a smile, “I was asked to escort you to your child.”
Altaïr simply hummed. He knew that she meant Aquila. There was no reason why she would escort him to Maud (who he didn’t exactly consider his child… that would be suicide considering that prideful eagle’s personality). He could just as easily connect with Maud to find out where she was but, if he had to guess, she should be in the forest near Alamut or in the aviary.
It depended on whether she wanted to relax (forest) or train (aviary).
“I see…” Altaïr said instead, knowing that Desmond was the only one who could have requested such a roundabout way to get Altaïr to rendezvous with Aquila.
They made their way towards the back of the thermae, timing their approach so no one would be there to see them without looking like they were sneaking around. To anyone who passed them by, Altaïr was simply telling them about the different locations he had visited because of his past missions.
It was just a casual stroll… that slowed down a bit to ensure the back of thermae would be open.
Adha handed him a key that he recognized as Desmond’s, the engraving on it spelling out ‘Sacred Voice’ in an unknown language that Desmond taught him slowly, together with the languages of his ancestors.
This key never left Desmond’s person but Altaïr wasn’t surprised that he would lend it to Adha.
Adha was the only other person in Alamut that knew about Minerva and her kin.
He quietly took the key from her and went on his knees in front of the flowing water that surrounded the thermae. He flipped the false bottom up and slotted the key into the hole underneath, turning it to the left.
Once he heard the almost inaudible sounds of gears turning, Altaïr turned the key to the right and pulled it out before flipping the false bottom down and standing. He didn’t give it back to Adha and simply placed it inside one of his pouches. Adha didn’t say anything which meant that Desmond did instruct her to give the key to him.
He saw Maria frowning but all of them remained quiet as they walked towards the wall slightly covered by shrubbery.
They jumped down the small hole quickly with Altaïr taking the first leap. He quickly rolled out of the large stack of hay just as Adha fell on top.
Adha rolled off as well, barely missing Maria’s ‘landing’ just as the hole closed above them.
This was the first time Altaïr had used this entrance but Desmond told him about it before. Just like Desmond’s story, the entire place was shrouded in darkness which wasn’t all that debilitating for him but…
“I assume you brought a lamp?” Altaïr asked in the darkness.
“I did. Give me a sec…”
Altaïr blinked, letting the world turned to gray, just in time to see Adha take out a small candle with a little metal holder.
It was part of the emergency kit every Assassin in Alamut brought with them. Easier to carry than an actual lamp…
She placed it on the ground before taking out a fire striker and a flint from 2 different pouches. It was a precaution to keep them separate and to ensure that the fire striker would be in a pouch that wasn’t filled with anything that could ‘strike’ a spark.
He watched quietly as Adha struck the flint against the fire striker. It took her two tries before the spark caught the candle’s wick, illuminating the room in dim light.
It was better than nothing.
With the dim light helping Maria who couldn’t activate the Eagle Vision and Adha who was still training her own Eagle Vision to last longer, they walked the labyrinth underneath Alamut.
Altaïr walked ahead of them, knowing the route they had to take and unimpaired by the dim light.
“Is it really alright for me to be here? To learn of this secret passageway.”
Ah.
So that was why Maria had been frowning.
Calling this a passageway was not entirely correct though…
He highly doubted she would remember the route they were taking, especially since it had too many turns that no normal person could remember.
He wondered how he should answer that.
Desmond trusted Maria because of the past-future that would never happen.
Altaïr trusted Maria because Desmond trusted her.
He wasn’t sure why Adha trusted her but, at this point, Altaïr didn’t see the point in asking.
He could see it though.
Why, in another life, he fell in love with someone like Maria…
Objectively, he could see why.
Subjectively… he couldn’t exactly see a future where he didn’t love Desmond.
But that was a topic that wouldn’t serve him any good right now, not when Maria was waiting for a reply.
Adha was of no help in this situation. She was probably just as curious to why Maria was being given the privilege of joining them.
“Aquila is guarding a box filled with items and books that might be connected to those who came before.” Altaïr explained, “As you and Adha are the only people who know about the Apple, we believed you could be of help.”
He glanced back before continuing, “I only skimmed through each item in that box. We’re hoping that you could look into them further with Adha’s help. There might be something there that would give you clues on the locations of other artifacts.”
Maria didn’t say anything as they reached one of the exits of the labyrinth.
Aquila’s trill echoed but he remained on top of the chest, flapping his right wing to greet them.
“And…” Altaïr stood in front of Aquila before turning to face Maria, “I trust that you won’t betray us and tell anyone about the contents of the box.”
“How can you be so sure?” Maria asked as Adha stood behind her, showing her curiosity but remaining quiet.
Telling her ‘Because Desmond knows the kind of person you are and I trust his judgment’ would only warrant more questions and might make her wary of them.
So he answered instead, “Because you know how painful it is to be betrayed.”
Maria didn’t seemed surprised by that answer. If anything, her lips curved into a mirthless smile as she mumbled, “I cannot deny that…”
Seeing that as the end of their conversation, Altaïr went down on one knee and let Aquila rest on his shoulder as he said, “Also…”
He patted the box as he said, “I need someone to help me carry this to your room and we all know Adha would carry it in a way that would make me take most of the weight.”
Maria blinked at how dryly Altaïr explained why he needed help while Adha commented lightly, “It’s called being smart.”
Hearing Altaïr’s tired sigh finally brought a small genuine smile on Maria’s lips. She shook her head before walking towards Altaïr, “Of course I can help.”
She went down on one knee on the other side of the box as she said, “I promise to carry this with you fairly.”
“I expect nothing less from you, Ser Maria.”
Chapter 116
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
There’s a POV shift in the middle for… dramatic effect XD
Chapter Text
Desmond and Altaïr’s travels could be summarized into four words:
Uneventful… by Brotherhood standards.
There were two parts in the plan, from the start.
The worst thing that happened during their travels was Aquila demanding triple the reward of dry meat and getting pecked by Maud for…
Desmond was going to assume it was her way of saying ‘stop being greedy’.
He was honestly just wondering where the hell Aquila learned the very concept of doubling and tripling things. As far as Desmond could remember, Aquila knew addition, not… he guessed this counted as multiplication?
They compromised on doubling his rewards which wasn’t all that bad.
He was still wondering how the hell Aquila learned such a concept and Altaïr suggested he take Aquila to the scholar’s tower to be tested.
Desmond was against that. If anything, those scholars might start teaching Aquila stuff under the guise of ‘experimenting’ on him and then what?
They would have a super intelligent eagle?
That Maud would definitely not like.
Before they would know what to do with the implications of things, they would have TWO super intelligent eagles that could do math and shit.
Fuck, they might even be able to do quantum physics for all Desmond knew.
… well, okay. That was an exaggeration.
… or was it?
For now, they would just have to observe if Aquila and Maud become more intelligent. They already had a better understanding of the world and human speech than normal birds. Maybe this was the next evolution to that.
Or maybe Desmond’s connection to them was the reason why this was happening. Considering how Desmond was special to Minerva’s kin because of his bloodline, it wouldn’t be surprising if he managed to influence Aquila and Maud because of said ‘specialness’ or whatever they wanted to call it.
It was also possible that this was a case of the multiple POEs on him having an effect on the two eagles.
They would just have to keep a close eye on both of them as they continued the preparation for the next phase.
Phase One was for the other members of this mission to leave Alamut under the guise of having different missions before stealthily making their way into locations near Masyaf.
Part two was informing everyone that the mentor was on the move and to be ready. The plan had been for Desmond to do this part so he could personally see how everyone was doing and make any changes if their situation deemed it necessary but they were on a strict schedule now because Desmond returned to Alamut.
Enter Aquila getting double rewards as he helped, flying to other locations to be Desmond’s messenger so he didn’t have to travel to those locations. Of course, Aquila’s ‘targets’ were the Assassins that understood just how deeply connected Desmond was to the smart eagle. The double reward was worth it considering how hard the eagle was working.
Thankfully, there were no major problems that would have brought their mission to a halt. The worst incident was the Rafiq of Damascus realizing that there were Alamut Assassins in Damascus. Thankfully, the Rafiq didn’t send any messages to Masyaf about what he saw and just had said Alamut Assassins for dinner.
Desmond had been in Damascus to hear that report and he just smiled at the Assassins stationed there as he informed them that they were going to have more in-depth stealth training with Oded once they were backed in Alamut.
No one said anything and he could see that they were embarrassed about being caught.
To be honest, this was within their ‘error margin’, as Desmond called it back when he was presenting the plan to his parents. There were already excuses and alternative plans in place just in case something like this was to happen.
What he didn’t expect was the Rafiq to simply smile at him and ask nothing when he visited the bureau. The worst thing he said was sarcastically commenting that he heard nothing but good things from their brothers about Altaïr’s betrayal of Masyaf.
How it took a lot of courage to betray everyone for love.
Desmond would have said something but Altaïr just replied with “Thank you” and that was the end of that ‘conversation’.
The Rafiq seemed unsure if Altaïr was being honest with his words of gratitude or if he was being sarcastic as well. It didn’t help that Altaïr said it using the same calm tone he usually had.
Desmond realized that Altaïr was fucking with the Rafiq because his calm tone was just a little bit lower than usual. It took a bit of time but Desmond finally understood that the slight change of his voice was a clear indication that he was joking.
Still, the Rafiq gave them a warning in his usual sarcastic way.
He said that it shouldn’t be surprising if Masyaf prepared a warm welcome to any visitors around this time.
Desmond could probably interrogate him if he wanted to but it would just be a waste of time. The Rafiq didn’t tattle on them but that didn’t mean that no one else did.
Hell.
Desmond knew that there was a possibility that Rashid was onto them. After all…
They did arrest the man’s Keeper. Even if they were given the excuse of ‘bad weather’ to stop the news from spreading during the winter, the other Assassins from Masyaf had already returned home with a letter saying that said Keeper tried to steal from Alamut.
It was a flimsy excuse at best.
There was no way someone like Rashid would believe that was the entire story.
So…
They planned for that as well.
The Assassins from Alamut reached the gates of Masyaf just as the sky was turning a lighter shade of blue.
Rauf was on guard duty that night by happenstance. He had taken over a shift meant for a poor brother who had eaten bad fish the day before, leaving him… too ‘preoccupied’ to take guard duty for the night.
It had been a quiet night and the sounds of a cart rolling the well-trodden road caught everyone’s attention.
It was the most interesting sound they heard since the start of their guard duty… well, it could be debated that the sounds of a female cat desiring a night of passion was a strong contender of the most interesting sound that night.
Once they were near enough to be seen by the Assassins on top of the gates, the Assassin in the middle pulled his hood down before taking the fabric off his face. Those fabrics around their faces were clear indications of their Alamut origins. Other than the way they hid half their face, they looked just like every Assassin in Masyaf. They could just as easily blend into a crowd and be mistaken as one of them.
“Ah! Nahir! Welcome back! That time of the month again, eh?” One of the usual Assassins guarding the gates shouted. While Rauf had never spoken to any of the Assassins from Alamut, he did recognize the man that took his hood off. He had seen him a lot in Masyaf. Rauf supposed he was one of the Assassins usually assigned to report to the master.
“We are nothing if not punctual!” Nahir shouted back with a smile.
“Well, come in, come in.” The Assassin welcomed them warmly and the gates creaked open as another tolled the nearby bell twice.
Twice meant ‘guests’. Rauf never understood why they treated their fellow brothers from Alamut as guests instead of… well… brothers but it was the order of the master and the master knew best.
They brought with them a cart as always, filled with supplies that they used as a way to pretend to be monks traveling with supplies for their monastery. Rauf had seen them leave the supplies behind every time and they were always medicines and other things that would be sent to the medical wing of the fortress.
Rauf followed the others as they went down to greet their visitors. By the time they reached the ground, the gates were already closing behind the Alamut Assassins.
“Safety and peace, my friends.” Nahir greeted with a small nod while the other two Assassins nodded as well.
“Upon you as well!” The Assassin assigned to take command of last night’s guard duty greeted back, “We hope you had a safe journey?”
“It was uneventful.” Nahir answered before adding with a small frown, “We did hear that everyone has been barred from entering or leaving Jerusalem. Is everything alright?”
They began to move and someone nudged Rauf to join them. Rauf knew it was because his guard duty was about to end and he would have to teach recruits next so he didn’t complain and simply walked next to the Assassin to the right of the cart.
He could still hear the conversation ahead of them. Information was hard to acquire in Jerusalem right now and everyone was busy trying to prepare for the worst.
It must have shown in the village they passed by because the Assassin next to Rauf asked, “Is everything alright here in Masyaf? Everyone seems… busy.”
Rauf blinked. There was something about the man’s voice and how he spoke that made him pause.
“Is it a secret?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.
“Oh. No. It’s not a secret at all.” Rauf answered quickly before letting out a tired sigh, “We’ve been trying to anticipate Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s movements. We believe that he might be planning to purge every land under his rule soon. And…”
He leaned closer as he whispered, “There are rumors that King Richard is planning to do the same with the lands under crusader rule.”
“I think he’d have a harder time doing such a thing.” The Assassin he was talking to commented, “Unlike Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn, certain lands don’t necessarily fall under his jurisdiction.”
“That’s true.” Rauf agreed before asking curiously, “I didn’t expect Alamut to be so familiar with what happens around here.”
The Assassin raised an eyebrow and Rauf realized just how rude he sounded. He bowed slightly as he said, “My apologies. I did not mean to offend you or your fellow brothers.”
“It’s alright.” He patted Rauf’s back so casually that Rauf was taken aback for a brief moment, “Rashid did his best to make sure you all think we do not care about you, after all.”
They all stopped walking as they reached the center of the training ring and the Assassin Rauf was talking to turned to ahead as he asked, “Isn’t that right, Rashid?”
Rauf’s eyes widened at how casually the man was addressing their master.
That was when he noticed it.
Everyone in the training ring were Assassins of high ranks and they all had their hands on the hilt of their swords.
“You should go now, Rauf.” The Assassin kept his eyes at what waited ahead as he ordered.
Rauf didn’t question it.
He quickly backed away together with the other Assassin who escorted them.
“This is quite a surprise, Desmond.” Their master said as he stood above them, by the entrance of the keep, “We didn’t expect you to come all the way here to order my death.”
“Your death?” The amusement in the Assassin’s tone was clear as he walked forward. Nahir bowed as he stepped to the side and the Assassin Rauf had been talking to stood in front of his brothers as he pulled down his hood and the fabric covering his lower face.
Rauf’s breath hitched.
When he heard that Desmond Ibn-La'Ahad looked like Altaïr, he thought it was an exaggeration.
They didn’t look exactly the same but they looked too closely for it to be a coincidence.
However…
There was a big difference between them.
Altaïr always had a blank expression on his face that made everyone guess what he truly felt. Some who did not like him liked to say that he felt nothing.
Desmond though…
Desmond smiled at the master liked an adult indulging the whims of an unruly child.
Free of fear and with a confidence that could only come from someone who believed they held all the authority.
“I would never ask for your death, Rashid.” Desmond said in such a light tone, as if he was simply commenting on how nice the weather was. His smile was as gentle as his voice as he said, “I’m here to visit Masyaf.”
Desmond stepped forward, making many of the Assassins surrounding them step back instinctively. He didn’t pay them any attention and stood at the center of the training ring. He slowly crossed his arms as he began to slowly walked the perimeter of the ring, “I think my grandfather was wrong.”
Desmond stopped walking and turned to look at the master, “No matter what the past was between the two of you, he should have never let you do as you please.”
Rauf felt like they were witnessing something private. There was a certain air surrounding them that felt more familial than an unruly subordinate thinking he could say whatever he wanted to their master.
“But I do believe that the Brotherhood should not be chained to the whims of one person, no matter how wise they seem or who their forefathers were.” Desmond continued as he turned his gaze upward, “My grandfather was not fit to be the mentor.”
Desmond lowered his head to stare at the mentor as he continued, “Maybe things would be different if you had been the mentor.”
Why was he speaking like that? It almost sounded like he was insinuating that…
“That’s what my father thinks.” Desmond continued as he unbuckled his sword from his belt. His movements were slow but many of Rauf’s brothers took another step back.
The way he moved…
It didn’t feel like they were cornering him.
It felt more like he was watching their every movements…
Desmond held the sword by its scabbard, just a few inches from the crossguard. From where Rauf was standing, he got a clear view of Desmond’s sword.
The winged crossguard…
The eagle-shaped pommel…
There was no doubt in Rauf’s mind. It was Altaïr’s sword. He remembered it clearly, having seen in up close once when he asked Altaïr to hold it, admiring the work put onto it.
“So I’m here to test that theory of his.” Desmond raised his arm and pointed the hilt of the sword at their master, “You’ve spent years pretending to be a mentor here in Masyaf…”
He lowered his arm and pointed the hilt of the sword at the Assassins surrounding him, “Come.”
His voice was as gentle as his smile yet they were just as commanding as he ordered, “Strike me down.”
Part three of the plan had been simple.
And it had been a lie from the very beginning.
This had always been the plan.
Desmond knew Masyaf just as much as he knew his home. If things went to shit, he could escape without much difficulty.
That was why Desmond had always been the one to come with Nahir and Peredur to Masyaf under the guise of the monthly visits.
He and his parents knew that Rashid wasn’t stupid enough to not realize that something was up. So…
They used it against him.
“You’re Master Assassins, aren’t you? Come on, you can do better than that.” Desmond poked the one by his feet with the tip of the scabbard.
The first wave of enthusiastic ‘sparring partners’ were sprawled around Desmond. They were the ones who were too loyal to Rashid or those who had something to prove.
It was better that they stayed down for now.
“You need to work on your footwork.” Desmond poked the one nearest to his right before tapping the one next to him with his scabbard, “Try using a lighter sword, that might help with your balance.”
He looked at the remaining Assassins, probably a dozen or so if he didn’t count the ones aiming their bows at him at the top of the walls and the higher levels of the fortress. He kept his tone light as he asked, “Do you know what you all did wrong?”
He looked around and his eyes met Rauf’s, “Rauf, you’re an instructor. How about you help everyone out and tell them what they did wrong?”
Rauf’s eyes widened before he quickly looked around. That wasn’t all that surprising considering how Desmond more or less just put him in the limelight without any heads up.
Rauf finally looked at Rashid and, ooohh boy, Desmond could see how hard he was gripping the railing in front of him.
His knuckles were already white at this point.
“Go on, Rauf.” Desmond said in a singsong-like voice before Rashid could say anything, “Everyone’s waiting.”
Rauf looked back at him and Desmond raised an eyebrow. Rauf looked like a deer caught between two cars with headlights on and, yeah, Desmond felt a little bad.
Not bad enough to give the poor man a break though.
Instead, he sighed and called out without looking away from Rauf, “Nahir.”
“There was no coordination among them.” Nahir answered immediately, “They came at you without any real plan and the others simply watched instead of assisting them. Their movements were too erratic so those with bows could not provide support as well.”
“Good.” Desmond nodded and poked the ground with the tip of the scabbard, “Just because there’s one opponent and-”
Desmond tapped his chest with the eagle pommel twice as he continued, “-said opponent has not unsheathed his blade…”
He made sure to look at everyone in the eye as he continued, “That doesn’t mean that you can just charge at him without thinking of a plan.”
“Coordinate with one another. Be mindful of everyone’s position.” Desmond tapped the ground once more, “Let’s try this again.”
He waited for a second before asking, “Do you all need to talk to each other first?”
Desmond shrugged as he suggested, “We can take a short break, if you want?”
“No need.” An older Assassin said sternly.
Just as Desmond expected.
Next would be the ones with wounded pride.
“Alright then.” Desmond opened his arms as he said, “Same rules. All you have to do is hit me once and you win.”
Desmond lowered his hands as he smiled at them, “Show me what you’ve got.”
Five of them looked at one another and nodded at each other before charging him. Whatever their plan was…
“Don’t step on the bodies!” Desmond reminded them.
There.
Desmond dashed towards the one who hesitated and slammed the eagle pommel against his throat. As he staggered back, Desmond kicked him on the chest, using the force of his kick to evade an incoming downward slash from another Assassin.
“You coward!” One of them shouted and Desmond snapped his finger.
As he expected, everyone was confused by what he just did (and why he snapped his finger) and Desmond used that confusion to speak, “We’re Assassins. We honor the lives of every person, no matter the sins they’ve committed, but…”
“We should not be confined by something like honor.” Desmond walked around the four remaining Assassins in the ring with him, making sure not to step on the other men still groaning on the floor, “Honor… fairness… those are words that do not belong in the darkness where we are.”
Desmond sighed as he looked at Rashid, “What use is honor if it will get them killed?”
He didn’t wait for an answer and stepped towards his remaining opponents, “No matter. This is also my responsibility as the next mentor.”
No one tried to argue with him which he was going to count as a good thing. He raised his arm and pointed at them with the eagle pommel as he continued, “Come on then. Show me what you got.”
He didn’t look away from them as he pointed at the archers, “You too. Take the shot but be careful not to hit your allies.”
Desmond finally looked at Rashid as he said, “I’m sure you taught them that much, right?”
Chapter 117
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
The Assassins of Masyaf weren’t bad. Of course not. They were quite formidable, all things considered.
The problem was that they weren’t used to having to deal with an opponent like Desmond. A single Assassin could take out a lone opponent. If they were too formidable for one, three Assassins would do the trick.
Or…
Three should be able to overpower a single opponent. That was what ‘logic’ would dictate.
However, logic got thrown out the window because of how Desmond took control of the situation. Desmond imagined Rashid and everyone else expected him and his two companions to run away.
Not to turn this into a sparring match.
And Assassins weren’t used to ganging up on someone who wasn’t trying to run.
If Desmond had run, he was sure that it would be a repeat of what happened to Altaïr back when he was chased out of Masyaf. Assassins would chase after him and waves upon waves of small teams of Assassins (a maximum of three Assassins per team) would slowly chip away his stamina while others would run ahead to bar his exit, forcing him to keep on moving and depleting his stamina even further.
But there was no exit to bar when said opponent stood his ground.
They never had an opponent like Desmond before, someone who knew all their moves and could predict what they would do next because of it. And, just to twist the knife currently stabbing them at the very heart of Masyaf, Desmond was unpredictable, able to weave familiar moves into actions they had never fought against before.
The fact that he was using the sheathed sword of Altaïr and talking to them like he was an instructor checking to see the recruits’ progress only rubbed salt in the ever growing wound.
The countless sparring matches he’d participated and watched in Alamut made it easy for him to counter everyone’s movements. His body moved as quickly as his mind, using all the moves he knew to ensure he would always stay on top. It didn’t matter if it was a feint from Haytham, a low kick from Ratonhnhaké:ton…
Hell, Desmond’s body immediately countered two incoming strikes using Ezio’s tried and tested move of pushing one sword to hit the other. Many soldiers and mercenaries got wounded because of that move and Desmond had to kick the other Assassin to make sure he wasn’t hit by the blade. A move that Ezio never bothered to do himself.
Yeah. That little bit of kindness was all Desmond’s.
Their swords clattered to the ground and Desmond hit the back of their necks with the eagle pommel to keep them down.
He was in some kind of zone, that was for sure.
Minimal body movements to conserve his stamina.
Precise strikes to quickly take out his opponents without any lasting effects, not including their wounded pride.
In a span of five minutes, Desmond took out most of them. He wouldn’t say he wasn’t breaking a sweat though. He could definitely use a nice cool drink right now and his shemagh was uncomfortably sticking to his skin right now.
A part of him wanted to throw off his robes and shemagh to keep the fabric from sticking to his sweat-covered skin.
Instead, he pointed at the fortress as he said, “Your aim is off. You’re too tensed right now. Try relaxing a bit.”
He lowered his arm and stared at the two Assassins left, Rauf and the other Assassin who escorted them here.
To be completely honest, he was fucking with them. He couldn’t analyze every arrow that tried to hit him but he was sure some of them were too tense right now so he wasn’t exactly lying.
Hell, he was just glad that there were no accidental casualties. Some of the younger Assassins who had been hiding in the fortress came out to drag away the poor men Desmond had the pleasure of sparring with so no stray arrows hit them and Desmond easily dodged all of them, even making a show of hitting some of them with his scabbard just to mess with their heads.
He wasn’t even sure if Rashid ordered them to get the groaning Assassins on the floor or someone else realized just how dangerous it was to keep them on the ground while the archers were pressured to shoot at Desmond. Ever since Desmond became the center of everyone’s attention, Rashid had kept his eyes on him the entire time. He hadn’t spoken a single damn thing. It was a bit creepy to be completely honest.
But Desmond wasn’t going to say anything about it.
The more immersed Rashid was for this charade, the better.
Instead, Desmond lowered his arm and turned to smile at him as he asked, “Is this all you can offer me, Rashid?”
Rashid stared at him quietly and Desmond didn’t say anything more, simply smiling at the old man looking down from his crumbling throne.
“I’m sure you would love it if I was to send more of my men.” Rashid said calmly, completely ignoring Desmond’s question, “And then what? Do you think you can defeat them all, Desmond? Are you so arrogant you have fooled yourself in believing you cannot get tired at all? Or…”
He narrowed his eyes as he asked, “Do you think we do not know that an army waits nearby? That your plan is to cripple us to make it easier for Alamut to lay siege?”
“Lay siege?” Desmond repeated as he blinked. He snorted, making an effort to stop himself for a second before letting out a hearty laugh that made Rashid pause. Desmond waved a hand at Rashid’s direction as he said breathlessly, “Sorry, sorry. It’s just…”
He took the time to get his breathing to normal before he continued, “Sorry about that.”
He saw the burning fury in Rashid’s eyes and almost laughed once more. Man, the old man probably thought Desmond was insulting him.
Which he was.
“I’m just…” Desmond placed one hand on his waist as he continued, “… surprised. Yeah, let’s go with that word.”
“I mean…” He dropped his hand and slowly walked around the training ring, noticing that more and more Assassins were watching him. There were even some recruits who were peeking out of some of the windows that overlooked the training ring. He made sure his voice was loud enough that everyone could hear him, “Is there any reason for Alamut to lay siege on Masyaf?”
Desmond stopped walking and turned to face Rashid once more as he asked, “Are we not brothers? Are we not from the same Brotherhood, with the same wishes and ideals for this world? To protect the innocents from the whims of those hungry for power and riches.”
“Why would we cross blades, Rashid?” Desmond asked loudly, “What gives you the very idea that we should cross blades?”
“Is there a reason why we should?” Desmond asked as he took a step forward.
“The only reason why our blades would be at each other’s throats would be if our wishes contradict one another, right?” Desmond asked and took another step forward. He stared at Rashid as he pressed, “Do they?”
“You speak as if Alamut has never desired that we bow down and become your vassal.” Rashid asked back instead of answering Desmond.
How pathetic.
“Vassal?” Desmond repeated the word before sighing, “Rashid… vassals are for kingdoms and those with the desire to rule over others.”
“We are a Brotherhood.” Desmond reminded everyone who could hear him, “Not soldiers of a master with delusions of grandeur.”
Desmond clipped Altaïr’s sword back to his belt as he continued, “Why are you so scared that Alamut would want such a thing? Hell…”
“Do you even know how much paperwork we’d have to go through if we did take over Masyaf?” Desmond dryly asked, “Paperwork about the logistics alone would be a bitch to read.”
“Paperwork…” Rashid repeated, probably incredibly confused over Desmond’s inconsolable toxic relationship with paperwork in general.
“But, hey, I’ll do you a solid.” He took another step forward as he asked, “You want to break all ties with Alamut? You want to isolate Masyaf from the only real ally you all have? You want to turn Masyaf into your little kingdom and rule over it like a some king?”
“Sure, I’ll help you out.” Desmond’s tone was light as he made his way to the entrance where Rashid was, “I’ll talk to my father about it and you’ll have my support as the future mentor to go on your merry way. Reign over this little kingdom of yours, pretend all you want that you’re doing it for the good of the land and not because your desire for power overshadows your supposed wisdom. Show the world that you are fit to rule and that you’re not just using our brothers as soldiers for your own personal gain but for the peace of this land.”
“All you have to do is one simple thing, Rashid.” Desmond placed a hand on his chest as he ordered, “Prove to us that you didn’t betray the Brotherhood.”
It was Rashid’s turn to laugh.
Desmond could see confusion and indignation on everyone’s faces. He paid them no mind and waited for Rashid to spout his bullshit.
“So this is your plan then? To call me a traitor?” Rashid asked in a tone that sounded like he saw Desmond as a pitiful stupid boy. He shook his head as he continued, “If this is your attempt to make everyone doubt me…”
“Then all you have to do is prove your innocence, right?” Desmond cut him off as he raised his left hand. Peredur and Nahir took off the fabric protecting the cart’s contents from the elements and opened a box filled with parchments. They began to hand out the parchments to everyone they see and Peredur gave one of them to Desmond.
“This is a list with a brief summary for each count of betrayal we’ve compiled.” Desmond made his way towards Rashid and Nahir quickly grabbed another box before following him.
Desmond stood in front of Rashid while Nahir slipped inside the fortress and opened the box, giving each parchment to everyone he saw.
Recruits, scholars, Assassins…
It didn’t matter who.
Everyone was going to get one. Hell, Desmond made sure there would be enough and then some more.
“My father transferred a lot of his duties to me so he had a lot of free time to write every single one of these.” Desmond said with a smile as he offered the parchment to Rashid.
Sure. He had time to write every single one but he actually had help. Desmond didn’t lie though. He never said his father actually wrote all of these, just that he had the time to do it.
Rashid took the parchment and unfurled it. His face remained as blank as ever but Desmond could see the rage hiding behind his eyes.
The man was furious and his tone held an iciness to it that was not there before as he asked, “Do you really think it would take a little parchment to destroy everything I’ve done?”
Desmond gave him a grin as he patted the man’s arm lightly, “Why’re you being so serious? You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Desmond’s tone was sickeningly sweet as he asked, “Right?”
He leaned closer and poked the parchment in Rashid’s hand as he continued, “You will have your chance to dispute each and every item in that list.”
He stepped back and made his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “If everything there is a lie then your council will stand by your side, would they not?”
Rashid froze and Desmond’s sweet smile grew as the old man realized the real plan.
After all…
There was someone in Alamut who knew about the secret tunnels underneath Masyaf.
As if on queue, someone called out in a disbelieving tone, “Altaïr?!”
Rashid turned to look inside the fortress. Altaïr remained standing just on top of the first set of stairs, the door leading deeper into the fortress behind him.
Desmond was reminded by a future that would never come to past.
That was where Abbas stood in his final confrontation with Altaïr back then (or maybe years from now?).
Now, Altaïr looked down at Rashid as he announced, “Nūr al-Dīn Muḥammad II, our imam and mentor, has finished his preliminary meeting with the council.”
He stepped to the side and an older looking Assassin, probably just a few years younger than Rashid stepped forward.
He wore the robes of a council member on top of his Assassin’s robes, as black as the robes of a Rafiq but with white embroidery on its sleeve. He stared at Rashid as he announced, “On behalf of all the council members here in Masyaf, we hereby proclaim that, effective immediately, Rashid al-Din Sinan will be confined to a room of our choosing. This order shall remain in effect until his trial is concluded.”
As expected, chaos erupted all over. Angry shouts drowned out the confused whispers, most were directed at the council member and at Altaïr.
Only a few dare ask Rashid directly of what was happening.
Desmond stayed next to Rashid, ready to tackle him if the old man decided to try and run. He knew that the man was still athletic enough to fight Altaïr…
Or maybe the Apple helped with that?
God, it would be funny if Desmond accidentally broke Rashid’s back because he tackled him.
Would leave him in hot waters, for sure, but would still be hilarious.
He was tempted to goad Rashid into running just to try and break an old man’s back.
Yeah, he was definitely not a good person.
“Enough!”
The command caught everyone off-guard as both the council member and Altaïr stepped to the side.
“Diya al-Dīn…” Rashid mumbled as he stared at the imam now standing above them, just on the other side of the door leading deeper into the fortress.
Desmond’s father wore simple robes, not even the robes of a Master Assassin nor was there a single piece of jewelry on him. Yet, he held everyone’s attention. His voice was calm as he noted, “I was wondering what the commotions was all about and here I see you all shouting at the messenger without even letting them speak?”
Desmond’s smile dropped and he bowed as his father walked out of the door leading deeper into the fortress.
“Is this how Masyaf conducts themselves?” Diya al-Dīn looked at all of them before continuing, “We are not yet passing judgment to Rashid nor have we condemned him without a proper trial. The council has reviewed an overview of the evidence we have against Rashid. Based on their review, they have deemed it would be safer for Rashid to remain in a secured room with proper security while the council spends the next few days reviewing everything we’ve brought.”
He raised a hand towards the Assassins on the upper levels as he continued, “Everyone will be allowed to look at the evidence once the council finishes with it. We have extra copies for anyone who wishes to read it. If you cannot wait then you can even join the council meeting if you’d like as long as you remain respectful while they are having their meeting.”
He turned to look at his son and Desmond straightened his back as he listened to his father continue, “Desmond will also be available to answer any of your questions about what is happening and what has been levied against Rashid.”
“Of course, Rashid will not be condemned as soon as all the evidence has been reviewed.” Diya al-Dīn turned his gaze to Rashid, “After the council finishes their review, Rashid will be given a chance to defend himself against all pieces of evidence we have compiled.”
“Alamut does not wish to usurp nor to destroy Masyaf.” Diya al-Dīn announced, “We are here because we do not wish for our brothers to turn away from our Brotherhood’s creed and tenets.”
“We bring evidence that will be scrutinized by your council, brothers you know and trust.” Diya al-Dīn reminded everyone, “If this is all a big misunderstanding then the truth will come out soon enough.”
Diya al-Dīn turned to face Rashid once more, “We expect your cooperation, yes?”
“After all…” Diya al-Dīn’s face remained blank as he stated, “If you truly did not betray the Brotherhood, there is nothing to fear, correct?”
Rashid glanced at Desmond and Desmond squashed down the desire to smile at him, knowing that the man was reminded of Desmond’s words just now.
“Of course.” Rashid answered with a small nod, “The truth will come out, no matter what.”
“Nahir, Peredur. Please escort Rashid to the room the council had decided and stay there until a proper security detail can be put in place. Altaïr will guide you all.” Diya al-Dīn ordered. Before anyone could say anything, Diya al-Dīn continued, “The council will have their first meeting to review the evidence soon. If you wish to join, please come to the grand hall. That is where we will review everything. We may request some of you to give testimonies as well. We hope you will all cooperate with the inquiry.”
While Diya al-Dīn was talking about what will happen next, Rashid stepped closer to Desmond just as Nahir and Peredur reached them. Nahir and Peredur placed their hands on the hilt of their swords but didn’t say anything, watching them as Rashid said, “You don’t really think this will be the end, do you?”
“Why should I think that?” Desmond asked as he tilted his head slightly, “As my father said, we’re only starting. I’m sure you will be able to say your side of this ‘story’ in a few days.”
Desmond paused and tried to look like he was thinking before continuing, “A week at most. Of course…”
Desmond leaned closer as he said, “If other people were to go forward with more evidence and testimonies…”
Desmond finally gave him another sweet smile as he continued, “It is the Brotherhood’s responsibility to look it over as well.”
“If you think that this will all end with a ridiculous trial-”
“Do not finish that sentence, Rashid.” Desmond ordered as his smile dropped. He stared at Rashid as he warned, “Do not even think of rallying them to a war you cannot win.”
He stepped back as he stated, “There is no need for unnecessary bloodshed.”
He nodded at Peredur and Nahir and watched silently as Rashid followed them. Altaïr met with them on top of the stairs but Rashid remained quiet even as they stared at each other for a moment. Altaïr said nothing and turned away first, leading them somewhere deeper in the fortress. They made their way past the door behind Diya al-Dīn without Rashid and Diya al-Dīn acknowledging one another. Only the council member bowed at Rashid as he passed them.
“We will be supporting you through this unprecedented time. The council will have more future announcement on how we will move forward soon but, for now, please return to your duties for the day.” Diya al-Dīn nodded at Desmond before turning around and making his way deeper into the fortress. The council member immediately followed him and Desmond entered the fortress now abuzz with whispers, some louder than others.
He clapped his hands once and got everyone’s attentions.
“Some of our brothers remain outside and will patrol the surrounding areas to ensure no scouts will come near Masyaf. You all know how important it is that our current predicament does not reach the ears of our enemies.” Desmond reminded everyone, “Remember…”
“Do not compromise the Brotherhood.”
Chapter 118
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
There’s a POV shift in the latter part of the chapter because I felt that it would give more details in the narration.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
There were eleven council members currently residing in Masyaf. From the reports Masyaf prepared for Alamut since its inception (which Desmond painstakingly read through, from the very first report ever sent, as if he was reviewing for the bar exam), the council was formed to take care of the day-to-day operations and any problems that would pop up during Masyaf’s construction.
While the fortress was being constructed, Rashid went on missions, mostly ones that focused on scouting nearby areas and information gathering.
It was easy to see that Rashid did it to create an information network that was tied to him alone, not to the Brotherhood as a whole.
Of course, there was still the possibility that he did it because he wanted to personally take care of missions with the people who followed him to these ‘unknown’ lands but Desmond was too jaded to believe such a glass half-full idea.
Because of how Rashid set Masyaf up, the council was little more than glorified assistants, given enough power to make decisions that wouldn’t step on Rashid’s ‘territory’ as a fledgling king.
There used to be around fifteen council members when Masyaf was under construction but four of them became the first Rafiqs of Jerusalem, Damascus, Akka and Ḥalab. The Rafiq of Ḥalab later became the man in charge of the day-to-day operations of the Brotherhood stronghold there once it was given to Masyaf as a… mutual understanding between Rashid and az-Zahir’s uncle to not fight within the walls of Ḥalab and to cooperate in keeping the peace.
After that, the number of council members never changed and they don’t exactly hold any ‘voting’ power. They were there to ‘supervise’ specific lands under Masyaf’s careful eye and to organize reports sent by the Rafiqs and any informants about the lands under their supervision.
Rashid still held the final say over everything.
But…
In the eyes of the people of Masyaf, the council held ‘power’ to make decisions. Whether it was a misunderstanding that simply happened due to the passage of time or if Rashid pushed the narrative along to hide the fact that he kept everyone in Masyaf under lock and key, Desmond wasn’t sure.
What he was sure about was that the council would have no choice but to read and understand every piece of evidence that Alamut brought and make their own decision as Masyaf’s representative.
He wasn’t expecting them all to immediately condemn Rashid. Hell, he was expecting at least half of them to even defend Rashid but that was fine.
What mattered was that the review would be publicly available. Even if majority of the council stayed firmly behind Rashid, their blind loyalty would only serve to make the Assassins who listened and understood the gravity of Rashid’s actions question their right to stay in the council.
It was a win-win situation. They would be placing Rashid on trial and would cast doubt to those in the council that were firmly behind Rashid.
As for which of the council members would go to which ‘sides’, it was up in the air.
They only had three main sources of information about the council: Khalid, Faheem and Harash.
Khalid only knew of one council member and it was his brother. The very same brother that wanted to kill him and… well… Desmond himself was an accomplice to Khalid’s attempted (and successful) poisoning of his own flesh and blood a few years back (it was to cause severe diarrhea but it still counted as poisoning) so it was definitely a very biased opinion. However, Khalid did mention that his brother’s problem lied with Khalid’s existence so the man didn’t exactly have any beef with Alamut. Rashid also pushed Khalid into being exiled to Alamut when his brother wanted him dead so that was an angle they could pursue if necessary.
… not that Desmond expected it to be necessary.
On the other hand, any insights from Harash was poisoned information from the start so no one bothered to ask him anything. Whether it was true or not, they’d just keep second-guessing everything that corroborated or went against any hypothetical information he could have provided them.
Which left Faheem…
Desmond was going to be honest. Faheem’s “I know they’re all licking the ground Rashid walks on and would offer their hands so he wouldn’t shit on the ground” answer to a simple question of “what do you think of the other council members?” wasn’t exactly surprising. Faheem butted heads with the other council members regularly from what Desmond gathered and Faheem was exiled from Masyaf even though he was a member of the council back then, one of the original Master Assassins who followed Rashid out of Alamut, and an Al-Sayf, one of the oldest Assassin families dating back to the supposed Hidden Ones. Faheem definitely had bad blood with the rest of the council and…
As much as it pained Desmond to say this, he was sure Faheem’s notoriety as a war hawk in Masyaf did not exactly help Malik when he took over as Altaïr’s Keeper in the future that would never come. He wasn’t saying that Malik’s troubles of keeping Masyaf from falling for Abbas’ poisoned words was because of his father’s history in Masyaf but he was sure Abbas used it to his advantage, just as he had used Altaïr keeping the Apple with him at all times.
Still, they were able to wring out a bit more information from Faheem about the council members. Among those eleven, three of them were men that Diya al-Dīn knew from Alamut. Six of them were sons of the original council member that left Alamut as well.
One of them was someone born and raised in Masyaf and had been the one to take over Faheem’s seat in the council even though Malik was more than qualified to replace his father in the first place.
God.
Desmond hated how the council had a political side to it.
It made him understand why the previous mentors preferred to not have a council of their own, even if it meant having more responsibilities weighing on their shoulders.
It was small blessings that Diya al-Dīn would be presiding the council’s review of the evidence while Desmond coordinated with Masyaf to ensure that nothing else happened during this tumultuous time.
He would be there for Rashid’s appearance in ‘court’ because he wanted to hear what kind of bullshit the man would sprout but he was fine not having to hear every single piece of evidence being brought to the council and anyone watching it.
He was the one who compiled the damn list and rechecked it so many times he had nightmares starring the damn thing.
It was better for Desmond to focus on what he was meant to do and waited by the balcony overlooking the training ring.
Of course, training was canceled. There was no way the recruits would be able to get any training right now. Not when all their instructors would be preoccupied by what the hell was happening with Rashid and Alamut.
It was during this time that Aquila landed on the balcony, a little to his right.
“What do you think?” Desmond asked the intelligent eagle. Instead of tilting his head to ask for clarification, Aquila only looked around before turning to look at Desmond. He let out a sound that mimicked a human’s grunt, a clear indication of how he wasn’t impressed at all.
“Well, we’ll be staying here for a while.” Desmond reminded him as he scratched the side of Aquila’s neck. Aquila pushed Desmond’s hand away with his left wing and hopped closer before unfurling his left wing. Desmond chuckled and began to groom the offered wing as he said, “There’s no aviary so we’ll have to share rooms, alright?”
Aquila stared at Desmond and he smiled as he said, “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure we’ll be too tired to do anything other than sleep.”
He thought about it before adding, “Maybe a bit of light touching.”
Seeing Aquila quickly place his wings on both side of his heads made Desmond laugh. The squawk of indignation only served to give Desmond a stomach cramp. Aquila flew away quickly and Desmond had half the mind to tease the poor boy but stopped himself.
He knew the reason why Aquila flew away was because he sensed the same thing Desmond did. Desmond turned around and rested his back against the balcony railing as Rauf stepped out of the large doors leading inside the fortress.
Desmond crossed his arms as he asked, “Has the council finished all of their announcements?”
Rauf stood a couple of feet away from him with his hands entwined in front of him and bowed slightly as he informed Desmond, “Yes. The council has given me the responsibility of organizing the patrol routes with you.”
Desmond tilted his head slightly.
They both knew Rauf was in charge of training the recruits. While he was a Master Assassin who was a few years older than Altaïr, as far as Desmond knew, Rauf wasn’t part of the Assassins in charge of patrols.
Rauf cleared his throat as he straightened his back before explaining, “The Assassin in charge of the patrols wanted to…”
His expression made it clear that he was reinterpreting what must have been derogatory words the Assassin used, “… listen to the council’s review.”
“I see.” Desmond nodded.
Well, that was his father’s problem now.
“Alrighty then.” Desmond patted the railing before using it to push himself off. He walked towards Rauf as he said, “We have five teams patrolling nearby roads as well as any possible off-beaten paths scouts or spies may use.”
“Five teams…” Rauf repeated as he blinked.
“There’s another five more teams standing by and they will relieve the current patrols at different times.” Desmond continued, “We’ve already sent word to Alamut about the trial so we should be getting five more teams in the next few days. This will ensure we can patrol day and night with minimal gaps in the patrol routes.”
“That means there would be… thirty Assassins from Alamut surrounding us.” Rauf mumbled out loud before his eyes widened. He immediately bowed as he said, “My apologies, I didn’t mean-”
“What are you apologizing for?” Desmond asked lightly. He turned around and walked back to the balcony, waving his hand once to silently order Rauf to follow him. Rauf walked behind him and stood a little to his left.
There were many little ‘traditions’ the Brotherhood had.
Standing on one’s right usually meant deep trust and respect. To have someone stand on one’s right meant that person would be unable to strike them quickly with a Hidden Blade but they themselves could be struck with the other’s Hidden Blade.
Standing on one’s left usually meant deference. They could easily be struck down by a Hidden Blade and wouldn’t be able to do the same.
Rauf’s position made it clear that they weren’t close enough to trust one another but he still respected Desmond.
Definitely because he was the adopted son of the imam.
He wasn’t even sure if Rauf believed that his father was Masyaf’s true mentor.
Well…
‘Publicly’ anyway.
“It’s not surprising if you believe we’re here to take Masyaf.” Desmond said lightly. Rauf froze but remained quiet so Desmond continued, “Thirty people might be too small to be considered a problem by many but your wariness is warranted.”
He rested his arms on the balcony as he leaned forward, “They are all Master Assassins, after all.”
He turned to look at Rauf, noticing how rigid the man was right now. He chuckled as he turned his attention back to the empty training ring below them, “We have no plans to take over Masyaf. It will only hurt the Brotherhood if we try to subjugate you.”
“All we desire is for Masyaf to remain true to our Creed and our tenets.” Desmond stated, “To do that, we need to remove any rotting wood before it infects the rest.”
Desmond turned to smile at Rauf as he continued, “To do that, we would like to request your cooperation for a bit.”
The ‘council review’ as it was later coined lasted for four days. In those four days, many Assassins were called to testify, recollecting everything they could about certain missions given to them.
Jamal was never called but he watched the entire proceeding, having asked Rauf to move his patrol duties to when the council ends for the day. Rauf had been worried about his health but Jamal insisted.
He needed to know.
Just how much their master used them for his own personal gain.
And where did the truth leave him?
Stranded in the middle of the ocean, clinging to a rotting plank that threatened to crumble against his weight.
The master’s collusion with the crusaders was clear as day. Many of them still clung to the idea that this was all a misunderstanding during the first and second day but the third day?
Previous Rafiqs now staying as scholars were called to provide their testimonies and their memories were much clearer than the Assassins who were only focused on their missions.
One of them even suggested that his predecessor who was killed by crusaders might have died because he questioned their master.
The imam had to silence everyone after the chaos that erupted after such proclamation and ordered the ‘witness’ to not provide any speculations without proper evidence. He still ordered that a letter be sent to the current Rafiq, requesting all the reports during that time.
Those reports were delivered to them the following day and it neither confirmed nor denied the allegation but it dug the claws known as doubt in everyone’s mind hard enough to bleed.
Jamal wouldn’t be surprised if the master had used crusaders to kill someone and he knew he wasn’t the only one who shared such blasphemous thoughts.
There were already whispers all around Masyaf about how the previous Rafiq of Jerusalem had been poisoned using tea that was gifted by the master himself and the only thing that saved him was the fact that he was treated in Alamut where Al Mualim could not reach him.
Of course, there were conflicting stories about it. Harash had been the one to give it to the previous Rafiq so some would say that it was Harash’s doing, not the master’s.
Jamal knew better though.
Harash was loyal to the master. If the master ordered him to cut off his tongue, his Keeper would do it.
Why else would Alamut keep the man in their dungeon instead of sending him to Masyaf as a key witness?
What they did bring were his journals and it was because of those damning things that Jamal felt like he had just survived a devastating storm but was still in danger of death below his little rotting plank.
Harash’s journals showed that Al Mualim had allied with some of the crusaders.
Crusaders that Jamal knew…
The Templar Order.
Did Al Mualim also fall for the same ideology that Jamal fell for?
No.
He was a traitor to both the Brotherhood and the Order.
He used them both.
Despicable.
If Jamal could, he would kill the traitor himself.
But Al Mualim was protected by Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad himself. The only time Altaïr was away from Al Mualim was when he was with Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III. Even then, that traitor would be guarded by six Assassins from Alamut.
No one was allowed to talk to Al Mualim, not even the Assassins keeping watch.
The first day of the council review, a few of their brothers had to be sent to the dungeon for trying to get inside the room where Al Mualim was kept.
Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III only ordered that they stay there for an entire day and he kept his word.
He personally went to the dungeons and talked to those who had detained there. All it took was two hours and he got everyone to agree to cooperate.
No one dared to storm Al Mualim’s room after that.
The man was frighteningly good at being a mentor.
Jamal couldn’t even dream of coming close to the room Al Mualim was staying in.
Not only that, everyone was on high alert right now. Desmond’s warning to remember their tenets made it hard for Jamal to slip a message to Masun.
They needed to tell the Order about what was happening and Masun couldn’t do it himself. It was too risky. The Brotherhood had asked the villagers to remain in Masyaf, citing that there had been additional patrols nearby and that they needed to be cautious for a while.
It wasn’t even a lie.
There were additional patrols, yes, but the announcement didn’t make it clear that those patrols were composed of Assassins from Alamut.
The wording itself was kept vague enough to create a sense of fear that wouldn’t cripple the villagers but kept them compliant.
‘As long as we remained in Masyaf, we will be safe.’
That was the implication of that announcement.
The fact that Desmond requested that the Assassin in charge of the guard and patrol duties be the one to announce it also helped add more weight to the entire thing.
It was frighteningly effective.
The fact that a stranger like Desmond knew the right things to say and do to keep the Brotherhood in line made him a greater threat than Al Mualim right now.
The Order must be warned…
His luck turned around on the fourth day. The last of the evidence had been presented and the council had unanimously agreed to call on Al Mualim tomorrow. That night, Jamal continued his duty to patrol the walls of Masyaf until he found the perfect time to slip away, using everyone’s preoccupation of what would happen tomorrow when Al Mualim would stand on trial.
There was no going back after this. Everyone would know he was gone by morning but it was a risk he had to take.
Thankfully, he was there when Desmond explained the patrol routes the Assassins from Alamut would be using. It was necessary for them to know about it in case of emergency and now…
He was using it to slip pass their patrol routes without being seen.
He couldn’t take a horse with him as all the horses were being guarded by another team. Moving on foot helped keep him quiet though so it wasn’t all that bad.
He walked all night and only got as far as seeing the nearest village on the horizon by the time the sun had begun to rise.
His feet were killing him and he knew that he had passed the patrol routes a few hours behind him so he made his way towards the village in hopes of finding a horse and a well.
The village was already bustling with activities, most probably farmers waking early.
Jamal grunted, his throat seizing up as he felt something stung him. His eyes widened as he felt the end of a small needle piercing his cheek.
Someone from the village walked out to greet him.
He didn’t look familiar at all and he wore the clothes of a farmer but…
He was missing his left ring finger.
“How…” He fell on his knees as his legs gave out.
The man didn’t say anything and simply watched as Jamal’s vision went black. The last thing he remembered was the sweet call of slumber as his head hit the ground.
The last thing he could think of was…
He stepped right into Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III’s trap.
The man was too frighteningly good at anticipating all their movements.
It was all for nothing.
Notes:
Yes, Jamal is the same Jamal Altaïr had to investigate after being demoted in AC1. I felt the need to add his ‘part’ to show how much the timeline has changed. :)
Chapter 119
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The initial plan was for Rashid to be questioned in the dining hall like it was just any other council meeting for the past four days.
A problem reared its head when almost all the Assassins and scholars wished watch such a historical event. The dining hall would be unable to accommodate all of them and it would just turn into a security nightmare if they were to pursue such a thing.
That was why Diya al-Dīn suggested that Rashid be tried outside on the training ring. It was an open area where Assassins could sit or stand on top of the walls and many of them could stay by the windows of the fortress or the watch tower.
It wasn’t a fool proof idea, for sure. If they stayed on the higher floors of the tower or the fortress, they would have a problem listening in and an open area meant that there was the possibility that someone could assassinate anyone in the training ring.
But it was better than the human sardine problem they would have if they did question Rashid in the dining hall so the council agreed to the proposal.
“And that is why you wish for me to wear this?” Rashid asked as he looked at the armor and helmet that Desmond brought in just now after informing Rashid of the location of his trial.
The sun was just about to rise but Desmond didn’t really care if he had cut off the man’s rest.
Rashid looked at the pieces of armor laid on the table as he noted, “This is the armor worn by soldiers from Alamut.”
He raised his head to stare at Desmond as he asked, “Is this your petty excuse to insult me then?”
“I wasn’t even thinking about that. Everyone here seemed to be allergic to armor so we got someone traveling all day and night yesterday just to get this here in time.” Desmond said with a shrug, “But, hey, if your ego is smaller than your dick then I’m sorry.”
Rashid didn’t look offended at all (or scandalized by Desmond’s vulgarity) and simply asked, “Will you be donning this on me then?”
“I will.” Altaïr answered as he stepped forward.
“So if the armor was suddenly unable to protect me, you will be blamed instead of your lover.” Rashid noted calmly, shaking his head as he commented, “Letting your heart control you has made you weak, Altaïr.”
“That’s fine. If Desmond wants it, this weakling will beat every single one of you until you’re all half-dead.”
See… in Alamut, people would laugh at this because Altaïr learned that they knew he was joking if he said ridiculous things in this joking (no one but Desmond realizes the difference in his tone) voice.
In Masyaf though…
The three council members that followed Desmond to Rashid’s room looked at Altaïr with wide eyes and Rashid froze as he stared at Altaïr with the look of a man with an excellent poker face about to crumble over-
“I see your arrogance had grown together with this ‘love’ you nurtured in exchange for your reason.” Rashid said, using the tone of a parental figure disappointed beyond measures.
Altaïr tilted his head to the side and Desmond knew immediately that this was Altaïr’s silent way of saying ‘what bullshit are you talking now, old man?’.
Not that Desmond was surprised by Altaïr’s confusion.
No one has called Altaïr arrogant for a while now. Hell, Desmond wasn’t even sure anyone in Alamut would describe him as ‘arrogant’.
The worst description he heard people use was ‘awkward’ followed by ‘let’s try to be understanding, he was raised by Rashid after all’.
Sure, when he came to Alamut, people did think he was arrogant.
… until they realized that was just how Altaïr normally spoke.
To be fair, Desmond was sure that Altaïr could have easily turned much more arrogant than he was right now. Hell, he relived those months when Altaïr’s arrogance and overconfidence brought him to his knees and forced him to crawl his way up to being a Master Assassin once more.
The difference was that Desmond existed in this timeline and they were being compared for so long that whatever arrogance Altaïr was supposed to have turned into what could only be described as a desire to be better than he already was.
It was a self-destructive habit that Desmond knew only happened because of his existence but Altaïr was slowly pushing it away thanks to both his ‘new’ carpentry hobby and his growing relationship with the scholar’s tower.
Hard to compare the two of them when Desmond knew jack shit about carpentry and everyone in Alamut knew that the scholars pretty much adopted Altaïr as something akin to a son, brother and mascot at this point.
But, in the eyes of Rashid and Masyaf, Altaïr’s tone by itself must sound arrogant.
“Nothing has humbled me more than understanding what it means to love and be loved in return. The world has never been brighter than the day I chose Desmond over you.” Altaïr joked in that deceptive tone of his and Desmond had to bite the insides of his lower lip to stop himself from making a sound.
Dear god, it was both embarrassing and funny whenever Altaïr weaponized his supposed title of ‘a fool in love’ to anyone who tried to insult him about it. He wasn’t sure who told him that the best way to dumbfound people hard enough to stop them from insulting him was to just make such ridiculous statements but, dear god, was it working more than any ‘logical explanation’ Altaïr could have tried to make.
He was betting it was one of the scholars. Altaïr only started using such jokes after he began his ‘part time job’ with them.
The most corrupting influence in the world was the intellectuals, after all.
Speaking of which…
Desmond placed a hand on Altaïr’s arm, his lips curving into a gentle smile as Altaïr casually turned to face him.
He was sure Peredur once described this habit of Altaïr’s as something along the lines of “like leaves reaching for sunlight” or some romantic shit that Desmond didn’t really pay attention to.
Altaïr’s own lips curved into a small smile that made his golden eyes shine brightly, a silent understanding passing between them before Desmond turned to face Rashid as he asked, “Would it make you feel better if I help you with the armor, old man?”
Desmond tilted his head as he smiled sweetly, “I’m quite proficient in helping the elderly with dressing themselves.”
It was the lowest form of pettiness. Rashid looked older than he actually was so it was hard to remember that he was still in his sixties.
Must be all that stress of double-crossing every single person that allied with him.
Rashid let out a sigh that would have sounded like a parent disappointed over his son’s actions but, in all honesty, Desmond just got goosebumps imagining Rashid as his father-in-law.
“Attend to me, Altaïr.” Rashid commanded so easily it made Desmond want to throw the nearest piece of armor he could grab.
Sensing Desmond’s violent daydream, Altaïr placed a hand on top of Desmond’s hand still resting on his arm and squeezed it lightly. Desmond nodded at him and stepped back, watching as Altaïr quietly help Rashid with the armor.
It was a simple armor that could be hidden under his robes but it offered enough padding to stop an arrow from piercing his skin. The problem was that it was hard to wear without help so someone had to help him with donning it and anyone wearing it looked a bit bloated.
The helmet had a dome-like shape designed to imitate the folds of a turban, simple with no decorations at all. Chainmail covered its side and back, hidden by white fabric that Desmond had added as part of the attire a ‘soldier’ had. It hid the chainmail as well as added additional protection against the heat. It didn’t necessarily mesh with Rashid’s white robes and black coat, being a different shade of white, but it would have to do.
Altaïr stepped back once he finished placing the helmet on Rashid’s head and Desmond made a show of looking him up and down. He nodded as he said, “You look nice.”
He felt the council members behind them freeze and Desmond almost grinned at them.
Of course, they would.
Desmond treated Rashid like he was an equal. Hell, Desmond was borderline treating him like an older subordinate who he had to be polite with because of the old man’s age.
Just to be a jackass, Desmond raised an eyebrow and waited. The silence enveloping them threatened to choke everyone but him and Altaïr. It might have taken Rashid a minute or so before he said, “Thank you.”
Desmond nodded to show his approval before leaving the room without even saying goodbye to Rashid. He did nod to the council members as he passed them and left the room with the door still open. He turned to face Peredur and Nahir who remained on either side of the door and requested, “Please assist Altaïr in escorting Rashid to the training ring.”
He turned to smile at Rashid as he added, “Everyone’s waiting, after all.”
In many ways, this trial might look like a play or a circus performance. It was both insulting and respectful at the same time.
Desmond absolutely did it on purpose.
More Assassins had come to watch, having arrived before dawn. The Rafiqs of the bureaus nearby were also in attendance, having learned of what was happening the night prior when Desmond finally sent out the messenger pigeons to inform the bureaus about what had transpired for the last four days.
Of course, security had to be tightened even further, both inside and outside of Masyaf. Thankfully, it seemed that the two main factions were busy with their own internal affairs. King Richard had summoned Robert de Sablé two days ago and Desmond wouldn’t be surprised if he started a purge as well.
The newly arrived Assassins could be divided into two main groups. The confused ones and the vehemently supportive ones. However, any words of support were easily ignored by those who spent the last few days listening to every piece of evidence brought to the light.
And now, it was time for Rashid to refute them.
“One of your teams escorted Jamal back…” Rauf said in lieu of greeting as Desmond stepped out of the fortress. They both walked towards the balcony and the other Assassins stepped to the side to make way.
Except for a few that were sitting on the railings. Those ones just pretended not to be listening in.
Everyone was listening in and everyone knew that.
“He’ll wake up in a couple of hours.” Desmond said vaguely. It wasn’t a sleeping dart. That one, Khalid and Altaïr were still in the process of making much more… generalized and not…
Well…
Either be ineffective with large bodies or actually cause devastating harm to the bodies of those of smaller stature.
The dart the team lying in wait in one of the villages near Masyaf used was a poison type that had been meticulously created with a specific ration of different ingredients to create a sleep-like state.
It was closer to a short coma but it was just better for everyone to think it was some kind of deep sleep.
“Once Rashid’s trial is done, all of Masyaf will have to make a decision of how they will proceed moving forward.” Desmond said calmly as he stared at the training ring, talking to Rauf but addressing everyone listening in, “The fate of Jamal and the others that tried to leave will reflect the path everyone here in Masyaf will walk after this is all over.”
“If you were in our position, what would you do?” Rauf asked and Desmond turned to face him.
He gave a small smile as he answered, “I’d follow the path that would honor our Creed.”
It was a vague answer made pretty by reminding everyone of what made the Brotherhood a Brotherhood.
At the same time, it was meant to force everyone around him to think about what the Creed meant in the first place.
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.
It could mean a lot of things. Something easily distorted by the biases of each person who heard it.
It wasn’t right for Desmond to push his own understanding on others. Part of being an Assassin and taking up the blade was to reach an understanding of their own about what the Creed meant to them.
They were, after all, people with free will.
And that free will came with the price of understanding one’s own action and living with the consequences that follow, whether it brought glory or tragedy.
Just like right now…
Desmond gave Rashid a smile as he was escorted out of the fortress, a cacophony of whispers following his wake. Rashid was escorted towards the right staircase so Desmond took the left one, both of them making their way towards the training ring.
Tables and chairs were placed by the edge of the training ring, the other council members sitting on each chair provided. Desmond walked passed them and stood behind his father who sat on a chair of his own by the right side of the training ring.
Rashid was escorted to the center of the training ring by Altaïr, Peredur and Nahir, the three council members that followed them walking towards the chairs and desks occupied by the other council members. All three Assassins left him there with Rashid and Altaïr never even speaking to one another.
All three of them walked to the right and stood behind Diya al-Dīn, a little half circle made of Alamut’s representatives.
Maybe it would be better if Rashid had been chained but that could be seen as Alamut’s ‘way’ of showing he was guilty before the council even passed judgment in the first place.
No.
In this final day, Alamut was meant to be a spectator.
“The council has confirmed that Rashid al-Din Sinan has been treated fairly during his own confinement. For his own protection, he will be wearing an armor for the remainder of this trial.” The lead council member, a man probably a year or so younger than Rashid, announced the start of the final day.
“Rashid, you stand before us to defend yourselves. We have here…”
The council started to list everything that Rashid was accused of which could be boiled to using the Brotherhood for his own personal gain and the strange ‘coincidences’ that he seemingly ignored.
After that extensive list was read out loud, the council began by summarizing the first item in that list. Desmond knew every single item by heart at this point. The first item concerned Tamir’s rise to prominence as a weapon dealer in the black market.
“The death of the three largest weapon dealers in Damascus gave way to Tamir becoming the most dangerous weapon dealer yet you have not ordered the Brotherhood to take action. Why is that?”
“To stain our blade with blood without first ensuring that the blood is from a man who has sinned is not different from mindless killing.” Rashid stated, “Every target must be observed so we do not mistakenly kill an innocent.”
The council member at the middle who had been speaking this entire time was cut off by another council member who loudly dropped a stack of paper on their table.
If Desmond wasn’t wrong, that council member was one of the few Assassins who left Alamut with Rashid.
“These are all from the Rafiq of Damascus, reporting Tamir’s actions and requesting your permission to assassinate him.”
Desmond almost hummed. The Assassin’s voice was calm and his movements were minimal. Nothing about him showed his feelings of the matter at hand.
But…
The fact that he pushed aside the natural flow of the proceeding showed how he felt about Rashid’s answer.
“Are you saying these…” He patted the stack, “… are not enough to show one’s guilt? Do you not trust the Rafiq’s eyes and ears?”
“Simply because there are a lot does not mean that it is enough.” Rashid answered in the same calm tone he had been using ever since the trial started.
“Then are you saying that these…” A nervous Assassin handed another stack to the council member who loudly placed it next to the stack that showed Tamir’s ‘guilt’.
The second stack was half the height of Tamir’s and the council member placed his other hand on the second stack as he asked, “… was enough to condemn three men?”
“It is not the amount that matters but the content.” Rashid countered.
“Alright then, let’s compare them…”
Desmond almost smiled. While Rashid’s expression didn’t change, his body froze just a little bit.
He wasn’t expecting that, was he?
Well, Desmond learned early on that the devil was in the details.
And the devils they were looking for were in the goddamn paperwork.
By the time they finished comparing the two stacks, it was clear to everyone that Tamir’s stack held more damning evidence than the shorter stack that condemned three men to their death. Tamir did everything that the three men had done before and then even more atrocious deeds that would have given him a feather ten times over.
Throughout the entire thing, Rashid remained calm and simply listened. Once the council member took the time to drink some water to soothe his most definitely aching throat, Rashid said, “I understand now that I have been mistaken. You’ve presented more than enough evidence to order his death and it shall be done as soon as this ends. You have my promise.”
The council members looked at one another before the one at the center asked, “Are you saying that Tamir lives not because it benefits you in any way but because of oversight on your part?”
“Yes.” Rashid nodded before continuing, “I am but a man. I will make mistakes and this is one of them. What matters is what we do after we make that mistake and, I promise every single one of you, I will rectify such a mistake as soon as I can.”
“Spare us your speech, Rashid.” Another council member said and Desmond remembered him as the son of one of the Assassins who left Alamut for Rashid. Unlike the other two who had been speaking on behalf of the council, he didn’t bother to hide his contempt.
Why would he?
His father died in one of the missions that was part of the list of evidence.
To be completely honest, he shouldn’t be in the council right now since this made it all personal but the other council members didn’t say anything and Alamut didn’t give any advice.
Diya al-Dīn made sure not to give any advice, only push the review along when it became clear that they weren’t moving and were just running in circles and suggest things not actually part of the trial like logistics and schedule.
“Let’s mark that first item as an oversight and proceed to the next item: Garnier de Naplouse of the Knights Hospitalier.” The council member in the middle announced before anything could boil over.
Nine main points.
Men of varying occupations and birth.
All connected by a web that Masyaf did not know of.
Rashid’s betrayal might have not started when he joined the Templar Order but…
They were now going to pull him off his pedestal and into the abyss he thought of himself too wise to drown in.
All nine items with the same defense.
‘Oversight’.
Once was acceptable.
Thrice was questionable.
But nine times?
A mentor was not allowed to have so many mistakes in such a short amount of time.
“It is now clear to me that I have-”
“Stop.” This time, the council member that was born and raised in Masyaf, one who had grown up being indoctrinated by Rashid’s teachings, was the one who ordered Rashid to be silent.
He looked torn, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He must have been five years or so older than Desmond and Altaïr but he looked like he had aged drastically these past four days.
“There are more persons of interest in this list that would probably share the same defense at this point.” The council member said, “At this point, we would question your abilities to be our mentor but…”
He didn’t finish his sentence and the council member that led this entire trial ordered, “Malik Al-Sayf, come forth.”
The other Assassins stepped aside and Malik walked towards the training ring, having stayed with Rauf and the others during the start of the trial.
The council member placed another stack on the table, an organized mix of paper, journals and parchments.
“Malik Al-Sayf, what are all of these?”
Malik didn’t look at the stack, keeping his eyes trained at Rashid as he answered, “They are letters, journals and reports that condemns those nine men as being part of the Templar Order.”
“And…” Malik kept his head high as he announced, “… explicitly states that Rashid al-Din Sinan is a member of the Templar Order.”
Notes:
I wasn’t sure if you wanted the nitty-gritty of the entire trial and I don’t want to, like, prolong the entire thing for 8 chapters or something. Hope this still feels good to read though.
Chapter 120
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Some people probably had this ‘cool’ image of Assassins in their heads. Assassins were meant to be quiet contemplative people, calm and collected…
But Malik’s announcement heralded chaos all around the training ring. Many of them were Assassins that had only arrived today, shouting their complaints and disbelief over such a ‘blasphemous’ statement.
Alamut’s representatives kept quiet and Desmond kept his eyes on Malik. Malik only continued his quiet staring contest with Rashid, ignoring the questions and insults thrown his way.
Many were even calling him an Alamut spy but both Alamut and Malik remained quiet.
Desmond could have easily cut through such bullshit by being sarcastic.
Did they really think Alamut would have such an obvious spy? If Alamut truly did have a spy (which it didn’t, that would just be too much of a pain to keep under wraps and the possible fallout would simply give Desmond a month long headache), there was no way they would use Malik, son of a well known ‘defector’.
If Desmond was to pick a spy to plant in Masyaf, it would be much easier to just get Maud to fly above Masyaf and listen in while connected to Altaïr every few days.
… not that Maud would accept such a regular ‘job’ but Desmond could probably come up with a way to negotiate with her if he reeaaaalllly wanted to.
“Silence!” The oldest of the council members shouted before starting to cough. There was a wheezing sound to his cough that caught everyone’s attention, worry over the man’s health earning them a period of silence that council member at the center took advantage of.
“Malik Al-Sayf, our brothers question your loyalty to the accused.” He said, the stress on that specific word forcing everyone to remain quiet.
Right now, it would not be beneficial to anybody to be seen openly supporting Rashid.
Desmond was sure that there would be those who still held the man on such a high pedestal that his head was reaching a metaphorical sky but only an idiot would show support so publicly right now.
They would probably do something stupid towards the end of the trial and that was the best case scenario.
“Please explain to all of us how you came into possession of these documents.” The council member ordered.
Malik didn’t look back at the council and spoke as if he was directly talking to Rashid, “My suspicion of Rashid’s betrayal started during my mission with Abbas Sofian in Tyre. We were ordered to bring back Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad who was on a separate mission with Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.”
A loud voice cut Malik off, coming from the Assassins surrounding the south of the training ring, “Alamut has no jurisdiction over Tyre!”
“We ask for silence!”
“This is a clear attempt to sabotage everything we’ve built!”
“Unfounded claims-”
“Unfounded?! Malik just admitted that Alamut had a mission in Tyre!”
Desmond patted his father’s shoulder and waited for him to nod before taking a step forward. He raised his right hand silently as he stared at the Assassin shouting his conspiracy and waited.
Whether it was the eyes turning to stare at him or his own stare that stopped the Assassin from his tirade, Desmond wasn’t entirely sure but he took that moment to turn to face the council as he requested, “May I speak to clarify some things concerning what is devolving into dangerous claims at the moment?”
“We grant you your time to speak, Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.” The council member said warily.
“Thank you.” He nodded at the council member before turning his attention to the entire training ring, “The mission in Tyre was to find and assassinate Lord Basilisk, a high ranking member of the Templar Order.”
The whispers began at this admittance but Desmond didn’t let anyone say something stupid like ‘See?! They’re taking over our jurisdiction!’ as he continued, “By that time, we already had suspicion of Rashid’s connection with the Templar Order and could not leave the assassination of the Lord Basilisk in his hands.”
“This is because…” Desmond closed his eyes as he announced, “Lord Basilisk was working under the orders of the Templars and was looking for the Chalice, a supposed treasure that can shape the future of these lands.”
He opened his eyes as he continued, “The Chalice is not an object but a bloodline with ancestors that held responsibilities on par with kings and lords.”
Desmond stared at Rashid as he added, “A bloodline like mine.”
At those words, a gleam appeared in Rashid’s eyes that couldn’t be hidden by his usual blank expression and Desmond knew that his fae lie had been distorted in Rashid’s ears. Altaïr already told him that Rashid believed that he was the Chalice, and his vague words only served to hammer in that misconception… just as Desmond planned.
He turned to look back at the Assassins gathered for this trial as he continued, “As you can surmise, I had a personal stake in this mission and, with my father’s approval, I deemed it for the better that this long hunt for a mythical Chalice, that doesn’t even work the way these ‘stories’ say, should be stopped as soon as possible. The longer the Order searches for an object that does not exist, the more pain and suffering they will inflict upon these lands.”
“Since we suspected Rashid to have allied himself with the Templar Order, it was deemed too dangerous for him to know of the ‘Chalice’. For all we knew, he could have been searching for this supposed ‘user wins’ cheat item as well.” Desmond stated, “And so, I took it upon myself to take down Lord Basilisk and his close ally in Tyre.”
Desmond’s eyes met Rashid once more and he saw the determination in the old man’s eyes. He ignored it and stepped back.
Let the damn man hang himself with the noose Desmond dangled in front of him.
“Doesn’t this mean you used the Brotherhood for your own gain as well?” Another Assassin asked. His tone didn’t held any malice and Desmond could see in his expression that he expected an answer that would quell any questions about how different he was from Rashid.
“I do not believe so.” Desmond answered as he gave the Assassin his full attention, “We learned of Lord Basilisk’s actions because of what he had been doing in the territories outside of Masyaf’s jurisdictions. Alamut only learned of the Chalice after investigating him and those under him. It is during this time that Alamut began to question Rashid’s lack of actions concerning Lord Basilisk and his ilk.”
“At that point, whatever connections I have to the Chalice is irrelevant. Lord Basilisk used his power and rank to hurt and kill people.” Desmond reminded everyone, “He was a danger to the people we all swore to protect. That is why his death was ordered.”
“Had we been confident that Rashid would do the right thing had we requested that Masyaf move against Lord Basilisk, I would have sent the request myself.” Diya al-Dīn finally spoke, remaining in his seat. He wasn’t shouting but the silence enveloping the entire training ring made his voice heard clearly, “My son was given the mission because we felt we could not trust Rashid. My son’s connection to this mythical Chalice was one of the reasons we considered Lord Basilisk and his hunt for the Chalice a danger to Alamut itself. And my son was given the mission because he is Alamut’s best and his personal stake in all of this ensured that he would see clues others would not be able to.”
Diya al-Dīn waved his hand towards the council as he continued, “Rashid’s inactions concerning Lord Basilisk and his subordinates are also part of the list we provided, along with many more instances that brings into question Rashid’s actions these past few years. It is the council’s prerogative if they wish to talk about it after these main nine points they are currently asking Rashid about.”
“If you wish to ask us more questions concerning the mission in Tyre, then we will have a separate discussion afterwards. This trial is for Rashid.” Diya al-Dīn reminded everyone, “Do not forget that fact.”
His words made everyone looked at one another before the council member that usually spoke cleared his throat, earning everyone’s attention. As he asked Malik to continue, Desmond felt Rashid’s eyes on him once more but he ignored it.
He was sure the old man thought he had created a little hole that he could chip away to get his freedom but…
Well…
Desmond had a lot of time spinning his own webs and even he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to use all of them by the end of this.
A part of him knew that this redundancy-on-top-of-another-redundancy plan he had was completely unnecessary but he wasn’t going to let Rashid get away.
Not when he could just as easily endanger the people Desmond loved at any given point in time.
“Abbas attempted to attack Desmond during that time because he mistook Desmond for Altaïr.” Malik continued his recounting, “In exchange for not sending a message to Masyaf about Abbas’ actions and how it could have been seen as an attack to Alamut, Desmond requested we help him in his mission.”
Malik’s words brought another round of whispers.
Even if he did try to downplay it as ‘an attack’, everyone knew that Abbas’ actions could have just as easily sparked a war between Alamut and Masyaf.
No one was buying that Abbas only attempted to attack someone he assumed was Altaïr. Ever since Altaïr betrayed Masyaf, Abbas had been telling every single person he met that Altaïr should be executed for his betrayal (according to Kadar and there was no reason for the young man to lie about this).
This meant that an Assassin from Masyaf attempted to assassinate the son of the imam.
“It is during this time that I understood the gravity of Lord Basilisk’s actions against our people and I began to question why our own master had not ordered his death.” Malik continued.
“Malik Al-Sayf…” A council member called out, “Your father and younger brother are currently in Alamut. Is there any proof that you did not investigate Rashid out of familial obligations.”
“Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III invited me to transfer to Alamut before.” Malik admitted and the whispers grew louder at this point. Malik ignored them as he continued, “If we are talking about familial obligations then, as the oldest son, the responsible thing for me to do back then would be to accept his offer and move to Alamut where I can take care of my father and younger brother.”
“By staying in Masyaf, I’ve shown that I’m an ungrateful son and a selfish brother.” Malik stated, his self-degrading words sounding like facts in Desmond’s ears, “Because I prioritized finding the truth and…”
Malik stared at Rashid as he said, “… protecting my home.”
It was a beautiful sentiment.
Unfortunately, this entire thing would become a blight that would follow Malik everywhere he went.
‘If he could betray his own master, how can we be sure that he won’t betray us?’
That question would linger in everyone’s mind and Malik knew that.
Still, he recounted everything he’d done, infiltrating highly secured locations connected to the people in power in Jerusalem, Acre and Damascus.
Copying every document and letter he couldn’t steal and stealing the ones he could.
No matter how one looked at it, Malik had gone rogue. While he did not use his blade against the Brotherhood, he still did things without the Brotherhood’s approval.
Without Rashid’s approval.
If Rashid was found ‘not guilty’ by the council, there was a chance that Malik would die afterwards, whether through execution or through being ordered to do an impossible mission…
And, even if Rashid was stripped of his title, there was still a chance that Malik would be punished for acting on his own.
That was how strict the Brotherhood during this time was.
Desmond himself had to slowly dismantled the very same practice in Alamut but it wasn’t as strict to begin with.
It was strict before, according to his lessons with Raiza, but it had loosened up after his father became the ‘mentor’.
The reason for it was because of Rashid’s lack of communication and his grandfather’s actions during his tenure as mentor. The fact that they welcomed a mentor who wasn’t even an Assassin was proof of the difference between Alamut and Masyaf.
Well… his father was a dropout so he was Assassin-ish, he supposed.
Not to mention, Alamut welcomed the Assassins that Rashid threw away and those Assassins weren’t exactly keen to blindly follow another master. One just had to look at Faheem to see how disillusioned to the idea of absolute rule one had after dealing with Rashid.
So there was a chance that Malik would not be punished.
… if Masyaf opened their eyes to how their blind loyalty to Rashid brought them to where they were right now, watching the trial of the man they swore their loyalty and life to.
“The scholars have provided copies of the most important documents and letters that Malik Al-Sayf submitted.” A council member raised a hand and two scholars walked around the training ring, giving a copy to anyone who requested it. There weren’t enough for everyone so many shared with others.
One of the scholars walked towards Desmond and his group, offering the last copy. Altaïr stepped forward and took the copy from him, nodding as he said, “Thank you.”
The scholar gave Altaïr a small smile and patted his arm twice before walking away.
Desmond didn’t exactly remember him. Hell, his memories of Altaïr’s Bleed barely had any memories of his childhood but, based on the man’s looks, he was probably old enough to be Altaïr’s father.
Desmond didn’t need to ask anything as Altaïr handed him the copy.
He once wrote that some of the scholars in Masyaf had been kind to a quiet boy who just wanted to read all day. It didn’t take Desmond too many braincells to connect the two.
Instead, he simply smiled at Altaïr as he took the copy from him. Altaïr smiled back but remained quiet, stepping back as Desmond went down on one knee and presented the copy to his father.
Diya al-Dīn took the copy and nodded at Desmond as a silent gesture for Desmond to stand once more. Desmond looked at the copy over his father’s shoulder as he remaining standing just behind him as the council went over each page.
Rashid was never mentioned by name in any of them but…
Many of the letters talked about their ‘friend in the mountains’.
But the most damning of all…
“ʾAʿlā Muḥammad.” The council member called out, “We know that you arrested a spy you believed to have been sent to Alamut by Rashid. Could you please tell us how you can be sure that he was sent by Rashid?”
“Altaïr.” Diya al-Dīn said and Altaïr stepped forward with his hands entwined together in front of him.
“When I was sent to Alamut by the orders of Rashid to take Desmond back to Masyaf by any means necessary, he told me to get into contact with the baker in town.” Altaïr explained and the whispers began once more.
Not surprising since no one actually talked about Rashid’s order that ended with Altaïr ‘defecting’.
“Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, could you tell everyone here the phrase you were told to say to that spy?” The council member asked.
“This poor fellow greets you.” Altaïr repeated.
“This poor fellow greets you!” Another council member shouted, slamming his copy of the documents to the table as he stared at Rashid, “These are the very same words the Templar Order uses in many of their letters!”
“This poor fellow greets you!” He repeated before shouting at one of the scholars, “Tell everyone here what it means!”
One of the other council members patted the enraged man’s back as he whispered something while the scholar stepped forward, looking at the council members and then at Rashid before answering, “While the term ‘poor fellow’ might not mean anything to any of us, it is actually a shortened version of ‘Pauperes commilitones Christi Templique Salomonici Hierosolymitanis’. We usually translate this to ‘Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon’, the official name of the Templar Order.”
The whispers grew loud enough that they could no longer be considered as whispers at this point.
Yet…
“Do you have any proof that this baker is my spy?”
Just a single question and all the noises died down.
“Let us all remember that the only person who can corroborate that this supposed spy works for me is the same man who threw everything away for something as weak as ‘love’.” Rashid reminded everyone, ignoring Altaïr’s blank expression as he continued, “He has every reason to lie to everyone here… in the name of love.”
Desmond had half the mind to slam the old man’s face to the ground and twist it over and over again to dig a hole for that damn big head of his.
He could even see some of the Assassins looked surprised by the insult hurled towards the supposed golden child of their master.
One of them was even Malik who should already know that Rashid was hiding his true colors.
Desmond supposed that was to be expected, considering Malik must still believe that Rashid’s fondness for Altaïr had a more emotional connection than a man taking care of a weapon he forged himself.
“That’s true. A testimony from someone that isn’t part of Masyaf should be taken with a grain of salt.” One of the council member agreed as he raised his hand, “It’s only right we focus on what’s already written than what is being said.”
More scholars began distributing copies that was thicker than the one that was composed of the documents and letters Malik took. One of the scholars even gave a copy to Malik before continuing to distribute it.
“I have here the original letters written by the baker, addressed to his ‘master’.” The council member raised a hand holding folded pieces of paper, “As well as letters from the very same nine men that we have been discussing. All of them addressed to their friend in the mountains.”
“All of them found in a secret compartment in the tunnels underneath Masyaf itself.” The council member stated before ordering, “Abbas Sofian, come forth.”
Notes:
Soooooo… head’s up. There won’t be a new chapter next Monday due to… uuuhhh… RL reasons. Sorry. The next chapter will be posted on the 30th.
Chapter 121
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
This wasn’t part of the original plan. Had it been up to Desmond, he would have thrown Abbas far the fuck away as soon as the freaky winter weather disappeared.
Which he actually did in the first place.
Calling Abbas back to Masyaf, however, was a back up of a back up plan of his and it was warranted.
No matter what Malik would say in this trial, he would still be doubted because of Faheem and Kadar’s association with Alamut.
But Abbas?
Abbas’ history with Altaïr made it clear there was no way in hell he would ever come to his rescue. As far as everyone in Masyaf was concerned, Abbas was here out of his own volition.
Which wasn’t exactly wrong. Desmond had only sent a simple order for him when he asked Aquila to fly to Lambsar Castle with his letter.
‘Tell the truth’.
Because that was the most damning thing he could do right now.
Malik prepared the fire pit and created the flame only one who was raised in Masyaf could.
And Abbas was here to douse the entire pit with oil.
Seeing the brief flash of confusion in the old man’s face was just the cherry on top.
Rashid definitely didn’t expect that.
Hell…
Desmond almost smirked as he realized.
Rashid didn’t even know that Abbas ‘betrayed’ him.
Whispers grew louder as Abbas walked towards the ring, clad in a similar armor to Rashid instead of the Assassin’s robes he should have been wearing.
Not that it was surprising considering Abbas and his ‘team’ (more like his caretakers to be honest) were the ones who brought the armor that Rashid was now wearing. It was a good excuse to get them inside Masyaf without anyone paying that much attention.
They also made sure to keep Abbas’ presence here in Masyaf a secret. It said a lot of what an armor and a helmet were able to accomplish in ‘masking’ someone when paired with observers too distracted by a trial. Because of this, they were able to keep Abbas from stepping into the limelight.
Abbas took off his helmet as he stood as far away from Malik as possible, facing Rashid as well.
“Abbas Sofian, you come before the council and your brothers, not as an Assassin but a soldier. Why is that?”
“This is my punishment for attempting to assassinate Desmond al-Dīn Muḥammad III.” Abbas answered like he was simply giving a report to the Rafiq, “I am now stationed in Lambsar Castle as a novice. I am to wear the robes of our Brotherhood once I have shown growth and repentance for my past actions.”
“There are those here who believe that Alamut has brought all of this evidence to destroy Rashid’s reputation and take over. Do you have any guarantee that your words will not be for their benefits?”
“I can guarantee it.” Abbas answered as he glanced at Desmond before continuing, “May I have permission to speak honestly?”
“We request nothing more than the truth, Abbas Sofian.”
“Then… may I speak freely?” Abbas asked and Desmond swore a few Assassins around them turned to glance at him.
No.
They had glanced at Altaïr.
“Very well but we warn you, Abbas Sofian. To speak freely does not pardon any malicious words that leave your lips.”
“Thank you.” Abbas stared at the crowd behind Rashid as he said, “I spent a winter in Alamut with others that I believe will agree with me. Alamut has no desire to take over Masyaf and it is simply our pride and ego that blinds us to that truth.”
“The imam prefers to be seen as a simple doctor and is loved by the people of Alamut because of it and Desmond…” At this, Abbas turned to stare at Desmond as he continued, “The future mentor of Alamut does not think too highly of us.”
Hey now.
“Why would he?” Abbas’ words turned more bitter and venomous as he continued, “Why would he care about blind men throwing themselves into the ground for a man that lies as easily as he breathes?”
…
Wow.
Desmond was thinking Abbas was trying to insult him but this…
“Abbas Sofian…” One of the council members warned but Abbas ignored him with a voice that was growing louder and louder.
“You want to know why I’m here?!” Abbas shouted at Rashid, “Because I wish to know the truth! Alamut? Masyaf? Altaïr? They can all burn to the ground for all I care!”
“I looked for the truth because you lied to all of us! You made us believe you were our master! You raised us to see you as second only to Allah himself when you yourself were meant to do what the imam wishes!”
That wasn’t exactly true. It was implied, sure, but Rashid wasn’t stupid enough to actually say that he was second only to a god.
But Abbas was on a roll and Desmond could definitely see why he was able to take the Brotherhood in that future that would never come to be.
Everyone here could feel that Abbas was being genuine.
His words may be poisoned but they came from the heart.
Abbas himself believed his own words.
If Desmond didn’t know that Altaïr would be saddened by his death and he didn’t have that nagging inner voice that kept telling him that Abbas should not be executed for actions he might do in the future, Desmond would have assassinated the man himself already.
If left unchecked, Abbas would be a danger to Altaïr.
“If you can lie about your authority, how can we trust that you haven’t lied about anything else?” Abbas’ next words were spoken more softly, “How can I still believe your words… How can I still believe that my father left the Brotherhood for me?”
Wait.
What?
“You told everyone that my father left because he did not want his presence to be a judge of my own character.” Abbas continued with shaking fists he kept to his sides, “This entire time I believed that it was my fault that my father left. You told us he left because of me!”
Desmond glanced around.
The Assassins he saw seemed enraptured by this. Was this because they all heard the same lie?
Because they all believed it for so long?
Desmond felt like he was missing something but he could understand where Abbas was coming from. Still… to make this entire thing personal…
This felt like everything was going off-script but the improv was working???
“So I looked for whatever I could find, anything…” Abbas continued, “Anything that would call Altaïr a liar.”
A few looked at Altaïr who simply ignored them.
“Something that would show, without a shadow of a doubt…” Abbas glared at Rashid as he growled, “That he lied about my father killing himself.”
“But I found nothing. All I found are correspondences between you and our enemies.” Abbas sounded tired at this point, “And I didn’t care about those. I still don’t.”
“I don’t know what’s true anymore. Was my father dead this entire time? Or is he still out there, thinking he did the right thing by abandoning me when I was just a child?” Abbas looked at the ground as he continued, “And all I have are words that showed that you are a liar and a traitor.”
“So I gave them to Desmond.” Abbas proclaimed as he raised his head to stare at Rashid once more, “Not because it was the right thing to do. I’m not like Malik. I won’t prioritize the Brotherhood over everything else.”
“I brought them to Desmond because I wanted revenge.” Abbas stated, “You lied to everyone here so why shouldn’t I think that you lied to us about my father too?”
“I’m not here to protect the Brotherhood or to gain Desmond’s ‘kindness’.” Abbas’ lips curved into an empty smile directed at Rashid as he admitted, “I just want to see you punished for lying to me.”
Desmond wanted to laugh.
Abbas told Alamut he did it to protect himself.
Now he was saying he did it out of revenge?
Was he lying to Desmond back then?
Desmond didn’t think so but, then again, he had always seen Abbas through tinted glasses smeared with bias and mistrust.
For all he knew, he had been underestimating the man that took Masyaf from Altaïr in that alternate future.
Or maybe…
It was both.
He did it out of revenge and preservation, using Desmond himself as his tool to punish Rashid.
Abbas Sofian…
It seemed Desmond would have to keep an eye on this asshole longer than he wanted to.
Desmond knew that he used Abbas in a similar manner that Abbas may have used him but…
It left a bitter taste on his tongue.
“Abbas Sofian, you just admitted that you are doing this out of revenge. What guarantee do we have that every single piece of evidence brought to our attention that came from you is not smeared with malicious intent against the defendant?”
“And what would I do? Write mountains upon mountains of words to create a false story that suits my need? All the while making sure I change the way I write for every single one of them?” Abbas asked as he turned to face the council with a smile void of any mirth, “I didn’t even know Malik would act on his own, yet I’m guessing what I found and what he presented shared the same ‘truth’.”
He turned to look at the Assassins watching this trial and opened his arms, “That we have all been lied to. That we are not Assassins protecting the weak and the innocents but puppets killing at our dear master’s whims!”
The crowd began to grow restless yet Abbas’ voice was still louder than any other voice, “Malik Al-Sayf is an idiot. He still believes in this pitiful Brotherhood and hopes that you will all unite and face this tragedy as one. I don’t.”
“Masyaf is a tree, rotting from the very day it was planted.” Abbas glanced at Altaïr before continuing, “Taking out the origin of that rot won’t stop it from rotting further. In that case, it would be better if you just start with a new seed.”
“What do you mean by that?” One of the older Assassins in the crowd asked loud enough to hush the others and they stared at one another.
“Did you know my father killed himself or did you believe the same lie? That your friend left his child to protect his honor?” Abbas asked back and Desmond guessed that the Assassin that had directed a question to Abbas had been an old friend of his father. Abbas didn’t wait for an answer and simply continued, “I mean that Rashid isn’t the only traitor here, right? Do we really think that he could take care of my father’s body on his own? Of course not. That means…”
He smiled at the crowd as he brought down the noose that would choke all of Masyaf, “There are those who knew what he was doing and helped him anyway and, the worst of all…”
He turned to look at Rashid as he stated, “There are those here who believed he had done nothing wrong.”
“Sooner or later, this very rot rooted in the very foundation of Masyaf will take another shape and destroy everything from the inside.” Abbas kept his eyes at Rashid as he continued, “He’s the beginning but he will not be the end. Even if you cut him off, another will take his place.”
“Whether out of vengeance for his death or a desire to have the power he wielded, it is this place’s fate. Its punishment for being born out of the greed and delusion of one man.” Abbas stated, yet Rashid showed no emotion to his words. Abbas didn’t seemed to care.
If anything, he looked tired.
“I have no plans to stay and be destroyed alongside all of you who will remain here.” Abbas turned his head to stare at Malik as he said, “You should transfer to Alamut, Malik. Even if you continue to chip away at the rot with all your might, you’ll die without cutting everything out.”
He looked away as he said, “You should think about your family who will mourn the life you’re going to waste till you die of rot.”
The silence that followed Abbas’ words were… charged. That was the best Desmond could describe it.
Not that it was surprising considering Abbas burned all of his bridges before shitting on the ashes.
Abbas turned to look at the council as he said, “Thank you for indulging me. As you can see…”
Abbas gave them a tired smile as he said, “I don’t have any proof that what I’ve given you have not been falsified but, by that very same way of thinking…”
Abbas turned to look at Rashid as he said, “There’s also no way for any of us to truly know if this traitor is telling the truth.”
“Abbas…” Rashid finally spoke. His voice was gentle as he said, “Your father did leave. He didn’t kill himself.”
Desmond saw it immediately.
The fury that blinded Abbas’ eyes as he heard such cruel words. His hand moved and Desmond stepped forward and-
“Ahmad Sofian is dead.”
All eyes turned to Altaïr who walked forward, placing a hand on Desmond’s arm gently. Their eyes met and Desmond stepped back, letting Altaïr stand in front of him and his father.
“He couldn’t stand the guilt of being the reason why my father was executed so he slipped inside my room at night and woke me up. He apologized not to me but to my father before cutting his throat in front of me.” Altaïr recounted, his eyes focused on Abbas who stood frozen with his hand just a few inches away from the hilt of his sword. Altaïr turned his attention to everyone as he said, “In this situation, it’s Rashid’s words against mine.”
“So I suppose you would just have to choose who you’ll believe. A fool who left everything for love or…” Altaïr turned to stare at Rashid as he said, “A man who tried to goad someone who is still grieving his father into make a bad choice.”
“That is not my intention.” Rashid defended himself in that calm manner of his that was annoying Desmond, “I simply wish to say the truth. Isn’t that what we’re all here for?”
“The truth…” Abbas repeated and Desmond’s eyes narrowed just as Altaïr’s did at the same time. Abbas’ lips curved into a smile filled with hatred and madness as he said, “Then I suppose the truth is that you’re either a traitor or you’re no longer fit to be the mentor.”
“Abbas…”
“What? That’s what everyone is thinking right now.” Abbas ignored the warning from the council, “Either he’s lying and was truly using Masyaf to help his Templar allies gain more power or he’s so stupid he couldn’t see how his orders only helped further strengthen the Templars.”
“Abbas.”
“You’ll all present evidence to show his betrayal, he’ll say it’s just mistakes upon mistakes upon mist-”
“Abbas Sofian, this council is ordering you to control yourself!”
Abbas’ tirade paused and he turned to look at Altaïr. His smile dropped as he said, “The truth should be clear, by now. None of you are asking the most important question of all.”
“I’ll take my leave then.” Abbas said to the council before nodding at Malik, “I’ll send flowers to your funeral.”
Malik didn’t say anything but his brows did furrow, watching Abbas as he left the training ring.
“What’s the question then?” An Assassin asked as he blocked Abbas’ way just as he was about to reach the soldiers from Lambsar Castle that escorted Abbas to Masyaf together with the armor that Rashid was now wearing.
The soldiers looked at Diya al-Dīn who raised his hand slightly, signaling them to stay where they were.
There was no malice in the Assassin’s question even if it sounded more like he spat it out.
“Is the man we all call our master such a fool that he would make so many mistakes?” Abbas answered calmly. Nobody tried to stop him as he returned to his squad and the head of their squad, an Assassin wearing the armor of a soldier that Desmond met during his time in Lambsar, turned to look at Diya al-Dīn.
Diya al-Dīn waved his hand once more and the entire squad bowed before walking out of the fortress together with Abbas
It was a show of good will as well as a reminder that Alamut would stay their hand. The presence of the soldiers could have been seen as a ‘quick’ way for Alamut to act if necessary but they would remain by the foot of the mountain until the end of the trial.
They weren’t necessarily needed after all.
Everyone that had been here these past four days knew that Desmond could easily take them all down. That was part of the reason why he made quite a show when he first arrived.
Another reason was that it showed Masyaf how weak they had become.
“There’s no way you’re this stupid.” Someone from the crowd said loud enough to be heard by everyone. It was a young Assassin and, by the looks of his robes, he must be a novice. He placed a hand over the right side of his head as he chuckled, “But then… that means you did all of this knowing full well what you’re doing.”
“As painful as it may sound…” Rashid closed his eyes as he said, “I am only a man-”
“Then you are no longer qualified to be our mentor.” Someone else in the crowd cut him off.
“Are you all blind?! He betrayed us! He’s lying!”
“He’s growing old. It happens to everybody.”
Everyone started to talk over each other, a flurry of chaotic noise that left no room for silence.
Until the very same novice said, “Execution.”
Chapter 122
Notes:
This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
Chapter Text
The weight of that word brought silence upon everyone.
The novice looked at Rashid as he said, “Even if he didn’t betray us and simply made a lot of mistakes… the mistakes themselves warrant his execution.”
“You’ve lost it!”
“No, he’s right!”
Oh, fuck.
Desmond recognized him. He looked a lot like the bastard who killed Sef and goaded Altaïr in the memory he saw with Ezio back then.
Shit.
He couldn’t even remember the asshole’s name but he was sure of it.
He looked young and he didn’t look exactly the same as he remembered but, if Desmond was to guess, the novice must have been that man’s father.
Well, fu-
Someone inside the fortress laughed.
A maniacal laugh that cut through all the shouts and Desmond’s spiraling thoughts.
By the second floor window overlooking the training ring, the laughter came not from an Assassin but from one who bore the robes of a scholar.
His left eye was bandaged heavily and his laughter held a wheezing sound to it that never went away.
He was older than most of the people here, perhaps only a year or so younger than Rashid himself.
“Father…” One of the younger council members mumbled as he stood and walked back inside.
“The boy’s right!” The scholar…
No.
The ex-Assassin shouted.
“Did he betray the Brotherhood or has he been making mistakes over and over again? The evidence the council brought forth would point to his treachery but… evidence can be forged and changed.” He said loudly just as the council member reached him. He lightly slapped the hand that tried to pull him back as he continued, “But what cannot be forged are the results. His orders gave rise to certain men who abused their power and authority. And, instead of acting, he does nothing. Whether it is intentional or not does not matter anymore.”
“Rashid al-Din Sinan has failed as our mentor!” He announced, “Through his actions or his inaction, he has given power to our enemies!”
“By our own rules… Rashid al-Din Sinan must be punished for the consequences of his actions and inaction!” He proclaimed, “And the punishment for aiding our enemies… a punishment he himself set when he founded Masyaf…”
His lips curved into an almost manic smile as he finished, “… is death.”
Rashid stared at him for a moment before he closed his eyes. He let out a soft sigh before opening his eyes as he said, “If that is what you want then I will accept your punishment.”
“May I ask one thing?” Rashid said, waiting for one of the council members to nod before he presented his question, “Harash is currently in the dungeons of Alamut and they supposedly found evidence of Harash’s and, allegedly, my connection to the Templar Order. Why have those not been put under scrutiny?”
“All the evidence taken from Ḥalab were reviewed days before by the council. All who were present during those days could attest to that.” The council member in the middle answered, “However… the possibility that they were forged by Harash to implicate you as a bargaining chip to save himself was taken into consideration under the advice of the imam.”
At those words, Rashid’s eyes flickered towards Diya al-Dīn but they both remained quiet.
“We concluded that, as damning all of those pieces of evidence were, we cannot, in good conscience, use them in your trial.” The council member raised a hand and three scholars behind him began handing out some kind of small journal, “All other pieces of evidence that we did not include in this trial have been summarized and compiled by the scholars for those who wish to see them. A copy has been made for each evidence themselves and is available for viewing in the library under the careful eye of the scholars to ensure it is handled with care.”
“We did not include them not to protect you…” The council member’s voice was loud and clear, making it certain that his words weren’t directed at Rashid but at everyone who might harbor a similar question in their mind right now, “… but to make sure that your trial will be done in a day. They are still available for anyone who wanted to read about them.”
The council member glanced at everyone around the training ring as he continued, “Whatever the content may be, everyone who heard the council’s review days before would agree, that they are just as damning as the evidence brought forth today.”
“Rashid…” The oldest member of the council called out and a bitter smile decorated his wizened face as he said, “If you prepared to defend yourself by using Harash as your sacrifice then I’m more than happy to say that all your efforts have been for nothing.”
He tapped his left point finger against the table as he continued, “Many of us here remembered how loyal Harash was to you. But we also remember how distant you two had become once he became your Keeper. Whether Harash remained loyal to you and everything Alamut found in Ḥalab was a way to keep you safe while taking the fall himself or the distance between the two of you meant he would gladly throw you to the wolves if it meant he would receive a lighter punishment… It doesn’t matter what he was thinking when he kept such incriminating evidence in Ḥalab. No matter the reason may be, we would never be allowed to use anything he ‘left behind’.”
“And…” The council member glanced at Desmond before saying, “I’m sure we’re not the only ones who recognize that.”
Desmond didn’t say anything. He expected it, after all.
The fact that Masyaf didn’t say anything about Alamut taking over Harash’s punishment said everything. Whether they believed Harash betrayed them as well or if he was simply following Rashid’s orders didn’t matter.
Harash was found trying to steal from Alamut. As such, he was to be judged by Alamut.
Desmond was sure there were people who didn’t like that but they couldn’t do anything about it. Everyone agreed he tried to steal from Alamut and that was the end of that conversation.
“Maybe they’re right.” The council member’s words took Desmond’s attention from the man rotting in the dungeons back in Alamut.
“Maybe your age has finally caught up to you, making you blind to things everybody else could see. What other explanations are there to why you’d only prepare to defend yourself against what Harash may or may not have left that could be used against you.” The council member tapped the table with his left point finger once more before continuing, “I don’t believe it though. I don’t think your age has anything to do with you making mistakes over and over again. I’m older than you and I like to think I’m still doing alright.”
“You’re just using it as an excuse and we would be fools to think otherwise.” The council member stated loud enough for everyone else to hear.
“While I cannot say anything to change your mind, it is with a heavy heart that I admit that I truly did make mistakes. And, while they may be honest mistakes, they are still mistakes that brought sorrow and pain to these lands.” Rashid’s words were aimed at everyone else and not the council member who simply scoffed, “I only tried to do what I believed was right but I understand that, in your eyes, I have failed every single one of you.”
“However…” Rashid turned to look at the council, “Before any verdict may be passed, I would like to say a few things first, if the council will permit it.”
The council members looked at one another quietly before the one in the center answered, “We will permit it.”
“Thank you.” Rashid nodded at them before he took off his helmet, placing it on the ground, before he continued, “Have you all considered why this is happening now? Why did Alamut start this ‘investigation’ of theirs now and not years ago?”
“We were left alone, abandoned to fend for ourselves…” Rashid reminded them, “Abbas says that the imam is our master yet that very same imam didn’t help us nor guided us when we needed him the most.”
“I did not become the mentor because I wanted to.” Rashid placed his hand over his chest as he stated, “I became the mentor because I had to. To keep us united… to keep us safe… someone had to step up and take the mantle.”
“I’m not perfect. I am nothing more than a man chained to this aging body of mine.” Rashid opened his arms, “But I did everything I could for the sake of every single one of you.”
Desmond placed a hand on his father’s shoulder and they looked at one another as Rashid continued, “Even if you believe that I’ve betrayed you, I only ask that you remember that.”
“And ask yourselves…” Rashid turned to stare at Alamut’s representatives in time to see Desmond drop his hand as they turned to face him, “Why now?”
Desmond stepped forward and proclaimed, “Because I ordered you to be investigated.”
Rashid looked ready to say something as the other Assassins began to whisper but Desmond didn’t give them a chance to say anything, “Alamut left Masyaf alone because my grandfather was a jealous man unfit to be the mentor. He feared the day you would take the title of mentor from him so he let you do whatever you wanted in Masyaf.”
A few people seemed surprised by how easy it was for Desmond to insult his grandfather but fuck him. Desmond never met him and the stories he heard about him didn’t really paint such a nice picture of the kind of man he was.
It said a lot about the upbringing his father had that his father didn’t grow up to be an asshole like him.
“When my father took over, Masyaf was already under your control and…” Desmond glanced at his father who nodded quietly before Desmond turned to face Rashid once more, “He loved you like the older brother he never had. He had hoped that Alamut and Masyaf would reconcile but he believed that Alamut wronged you and everyone here in Masyaf for far too long that it would be insulting if he was to ask for forgiveness for the actions done by his father.”
“So he let you and Masyaf do whatever you want. Out of guilt and love.” Desmond continued before announcing, “But I hold no such sentiments.”
“I’m adopted so I never met my grandfather and I was never raised to feel any emotional connection to you.” Desmond stared down at Rashid as he calmly stated, “That’s why I felt no guilt in questioning Masyaf’s intentions or competence.”
“You’re asking why now?” Desmond repeated Rashid’s question.
A question meant to cast doubt over Alamut’s real intention.
A question that Desmond knew he had to answer sooner or later, regardless if he was to become the mentor of Alamut or not.
“Because I wanted to know if Masyaf had to be destroyed.” Desmond announced, earning a cacophony of whispers growing louder and louder.
“The territories under Masyaf’s jurisdiction have not been properly taken care of.”
Desmond’s words brought a heavy silence over everyone before accusations could start flying around.
“Innocent people lost their lives and suffer under the boot of tyrants and power hungry men that see them as nothing more than flies they could crush any time.” Desmond continued, “Incompetence can be trained but betrayal?”
Desmond narrowed his eyes as he said, “That is the one thing the Brotherhood cannot forgive.”
“The one being trialed is Rashid, yes, but this very trial is only the beginning.” Desmond announced, “Alamut will never desire Masyaf to kneel. We will assist you if you request it and our gates will always be open to those who wish to join us.”
“But…” Desmond slowly moved his head to look at everyone present right now, “Do not mistake our stance. We will uphold the Brotherhood’s Creed and tenets. That is the reason why we all became Assassins.”
No matter what words Desmond emphasis, it would simply fall under deaf ears to those who didn’t want to listen.
As much as he hated to admit it, Abbas was right.
The rot may have started with Rashid but things such as rot spread.
Desmond would be an idiot if he believed that things could change for the better once Rashid was out of the picture.
The future he saw with Ezio back in the Animus showed that.
“If Masyaf is to follow a mentor that does not share our Creed or our tenets and makes a mockery of what it means to be an Assassin Brotherhood…” Desmond took out a white feather from his pouch and walked forward. Everyone parted as he made his way to the center of the training ring, all the while continuing, “… then we will do what we have always done.”
He broke the feather in half as he stood in front of Rashid before placing the bottom half on the neck part of Rashid’s armor, “Whether it is an individual’s will that threatens the lives of others…”
He turned to walk towards the council and placed the top half of the feather at the table in front of the council as he continued, “… or the desire of the collective…”
Desmond raised his head to look at the people watching the proceedings inside the fortress, “We will raise our blade regardless.”
“Aren’t you threatening them to execute me then?” Rashid asked and Desmond turned to face him. Rashid plucked the feather off his armor and dropped it to the ground as he said, “Execute him or we shall kill all of you. Isn’t that what you mean?”
Desmond’s lips curved into a small soft smile as he asked, “If a man such as you is not executed, what does it mean, Rashid?”
“You used the Brotherhood to gain more power and assist men who abuse their own power.” Desmond walked towards Rashid as he recounted, dropping his smile as his tone became cold, “You didn’t just ally yourself with an organization that wishes to control the populace, you personally joined their ranks, becoming the very man the Brotherhood had always targeted: greedy, self-centered…”
He stopped in front of Rashid as he stated, “Delusional.”
“If everyone here decides that you still deserve to be their leader, what does that make them?” Desmond asked Rashid but he knew that everyone heard him.
They were the ones who really mattered.
Desmond already changed their fate. Altaïr would remain in Alamut by his side.
That meant that Masyaf would not even have Altaïr’s guidance to bring an age of technological advancement and unity.
But…
Desmond hated to think about it…
The truth was… he wasn’t even sure if Altaïr had truly unified the Brotherhood.
It took time, yes, but Abbas was able to take everything away from him. Years may have passed with him away from Masyaf but that only showed how ‘weak’ his foundation had been in the first place.
And it all started with Rashid…
He was the very foundation of Masyaf and the shadow that Altaïr tried to push Masyaf out of.
Abbas showed that he had failed.
And now Desmond wanted to see if Masyaf could push itself out of that shadow without Altaïr (or even Abbas) to guide them.
Rashid stared at him for a moment before he said, “I see.”
Rashid’s hand darted towards Desmond’s sword and grabbed its hilt. Just as he was to unsheathe it, Desmond grabbed his hands and pushed the sword back.
Rashid used Desmond’s choice to not strike him with his hidden blade immediately and grabbed his neck with his free hand.
He squeezed and…
Desmond remained calm as he stared Rashid down.
Before Rashid could ask how Desmond could stay calm as his throat was about to be crushed, something struck Rashid on the cheek.
Desmond watched as Rashid’s legs gave out at the same time the strength of his vicious grip on his throat weakened until he dropped his hands.
Desmond pushed his other hand away from his sword and stepped back as Rashid fell to his side, eyes open and breathing heavily.
A small needle pierced his cheek and everyone started shouted, some of them at Altaïr who lowered the blowgun he held in one hand.
“Enough.” Desmond ordered as he stepped back from Rashid, a single command forced everyone into silenced. He stared at the paralyzed old man as he mumbled, “What an idiot.”
Desmond could get what he wanted to do.
Either he successfully killed Desmond and, in his delusion, would be able to unite Masyaf under his rule once more because Alamut would go to war in revenge.
Or…
Desmond killed him, dying the way he wanted while fucking shit up between Alamut and Masyaf, specifically fucking over Desmond and any attempts he may have to reconcile the two.
Unfortunately for him, Desmond and Altaïr had already assumed he’d do something just as stupid. Desmond had expected that he’d order someone to kill him when he took off his helmet. That was why he decided to be a little dramatic and enter the training ring.
He was confident that his reactions were fast enough to pull the old man away from a ranged assassination attempt.
And it was because they knew that they had pushed him to a corner that he would do something today.
Did Desmond specifically knew that Rashid would try to take his (Altaïr’s) sword to force Desmond’s hand?
Not really.
But Altaïr had a paralyzing poison on hand in case of a situation where Desmond couldn’t do anything.
Desmond fixed his hood as it almost fell off as he said, “He’ll be paralyzed for an entire day. During that time, I expect Masyaf to make their decision on what to do with him.”
He turned to look at the fortress as he announced, “Alamut will be watching.”
Chapter 123
Notes:
BEFORE ANYTHING. Please read Home Is Not A House by Moonalight
It's set on Malik's POV and I cannot stress how well Moonalight wrote him. It's just as I imagine and, seriously, you guys need to read that story first before you read this chapter. While you're there, please leave the story some love!This chapter is beta’ed by @knine-nights-loves-ac
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
There was no need to stay in Masyaf after that.
Whatever choice Masyaf made, it had to be made by themselves. Hell, being there might be seen as them ‘interfering’.
Desmond did take the time to walk towards Rauf, nodding at him as the others stepped to the side without saying anything.
He kept his hands to his side as he said, “We will be taking our leave now. We will continue to patrol Masyaf’s surroundings until you all make your choice so you may have peace.”
The left side of Rauf’s lips twitched.
Desmond wasn’t trying to make a joke about the whole ‘peace’ thing but, hey, he’d take it if it meant Rauf wouldn’t look so rigid.
Poor man would probably go catatonic if Desmond was to make a pun right now.
“I understand how…” Desmond paused for half a second, making sure his next word didn’t sound sarcastic at all, “… fragile things are right now so…”
“Just send a messenger to inform us of your choice.” Desmond suggested, “Whatever choice you make, we’ll leave.”
Whatever happened after this…
Well…
Desmond didn’t really want to think about it.
Whatever happened after all this would shape the very future of the Brotherhood.
This was one of those times that Desmond wondered if he was doing the right thing…
But he wasn’t going to regret this.
Because Desmond knew that the alternative… a future very similar to the memories Desmond saw with Ezio…
It was still a worse future compared to this unknown future that Desmond was pulling along because of his selfish desires to keep everyone he cared for and loved safe.
They made their way towards the guard tower west of Masyaf.
The very same tower that would have been burned down if it was confirmed that the sick there could not be healed and would infect anyone nearby…
Desmond personally would have picked the guard tower to the east but Diya al-Dīn wanted to use the west one as their base of operations.
They weren’t going to stay there for long so Desmond relented.
It was alright. Clean enough to live in but there was no secret stash of food or drinkable water.
That was to be expected.
There was a possibility of this guard tower falling to enemy hands after all. Giving the enemy supplies was a bad move, especially since thieves or travelers could also raid the stock if they managed to slip inside.
Keeping it empty was better if one was to look at their finances.
Besides, Rahim’s team was already stationed there and they brought food and water with them.
As his father roamed the tower with Peredur and Nahir while Altaïr patrolled outside with Rahim’s team, Desmond listened to Rahim’s report.
“We didn’t catch any wayward ‘brothers’ once the trial started and we only spotted the regular patrols from the crusaders and the Saracens. They didn’t make any strange movements or have a different team composition. If I didn’t know any better, I would probably say this is quite a ‘peaceful’ day, all things considered.” Rahim reported as Desmond dragged a finger across the table. He looked at his hand as he rubbed the dust off the table and Rahim added dryly, “We’re not cleaning after them, Desmond.”
“It won’t be healthy for us to eat in this dusty room.” Desmond reminded his friend lightly.
“You really think Masyaf would wait that long?” Rahim asked with a frown, “It’s obvious the old man needs to die, right?”
“Logic and emotions sometimes war against one another.” Desmond commented, making Rahim snort.
“Weren’t they trained to ignore their emotions?”
Desmond hummed instead of answering.
He knew well enough how Rashid’s teaching went when it came to emotions and feelings.
Things like ‘love’ should be ignored and should not be shown.
He remembered that, not from his Bleed of Altaïr, but from a Codex page that Leonardo Da Vinci once translated.
He would sometimes reread them when he had a short break, Rebecca having saved a copy in their internal database that Desmond could access by borrowing her tablet. Altaïr’s words, translated by Ezio’s dear friend, kept him grounded when Ratonhnhaké:ton’s Bleed started breaking through the flimsy walls protecting his identity as Desmond Miles.
It really said something about his psyche that he actually missed his invasive Bleeds at times.
They made him feel less like Desmond Miles but they also made him feel… less alone.
Those short burst of melancholy had been growing rarer though.
And he could guess why…
“What? Did I say something wrong?” Rahim asked as his brows furrowed, probably feeling a bit awkward that Desmond was staring at him quietly.
Desmond simply grinned as he said, “I guess it would be better if we eat at the top floor so we can see what’s happening outside clearly. At least clean that floor unless…”
He raised an eyebrow as he reminded his friend, “You want our doctor and imam to scold you for not doing the bare minimum in keeping clean?”
Rahim sighed but relented, “Alright. I’ll get someone to help me with it.”
Of course, he would relent. Remaining clean was very important to them so, really, there was no way they were going to eat or relax in a very dusty room.
“We’ll stay here for a day. If Masyaf does not make their choice then we will proceed with Plan F.”
Rahim’s face darkened as he nodded, “Understood.”
Plan F was simple. Retreat back to Alamut and prepare for, at worst, civil war and, at best, two Brotherhoods assassinating one another.
Desmond didn’t really think that it would happen, to be completely honest. While Rashid had ‘raised’ most of the Assassins in Masyaf, that didn’t mean that they were his puppets nor were they so loyal that they would ignore the logical part of their mind that understood that their master had betrayed them.
If they were, Altaïr would have been executed instead of being granted (chained to) the title of mentor.
Also… Desmond was sure Abbas had done more good than harm in regards to their ‘hope’ that Masyaf would get out of Rashid’s shadows.
Speaking of…
“The Lambsar soldiers?” Desmond asked Rahim as they made their way to the top of the tower.
“I’ve gotten confirmation that they’ve reached the east tower. They’re taking a short break before making their way back to Lambsar Castle.” Rahim informed him before asking, “Should I have someone bring them here instead?”
“No.” Desmond answered.
There was no way in hell he was going to let Abbas near Altaïr.
It wasn’t just for Altaïr, it was for Abbas too. The farther they were from one another, the higher the chance that Abbas could do something different with his life.
Maybe.
He wasn’t going to cancel his order of executing Abbas if he did anything in Lambsar, that was for sure.
Desmond sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“That bad, huh.” Rahim commented as he followed Desmond to the top floor.
The breeze was cool against their skin and Desmond had to fix his hood before the breeze could pull it down.
“I’m still hopeful.” Desmond answered lightly as they walked towards the large window that had a clear view of the plains outside. Jutting out of the window was a sturdy wooden structure that they could use to make a leap of faith.
Desmond simply pressed his side against the wall next to the window. Rahim remained standing behind him as he said, “There’s nothing wrong with being hopeful. Unless… you actually believe that only a fool would be hopeful at this situation.”
“There’s still a lot of good men with their heads screwed on straight in Masyaf.” Desmond commented and it said a lot that his friend understood what he meant.
“Then you’re worrying because you have free time.” Rahim noted, making Desmond laugh.
“Yeah, I guess?” Desmond wasn’t sure if he agreed with it but, hey, it made him laugh and that was more important.
God.
Being in Masyaf was suffocating.
“I’ll call Altaïr.” Rahim announced as he turned around.
“I don’t think this is actually a good place to have sex though…”
“Ugh, I was thinking you two can talk and relax here.” Rahim corrected, sounding both exasperated and tired, “Please don’t have sex here. At least wait until there’s an actual bed.”
Desmond laughed once more as he listened to Rahim’s footsteps grow softer.
That was true. Being in Masyaf and having to deal with everything made it nearly impossible for them to have time together.
Desmond was busy coordinating with their forces outside while keeping the peace inside together with Rauf while Altaïr was guarding Rashid.
Honestly, Altaïr could just as easily stayed by his side the entire time. He trusted Peredur and Nahir enough to believe they could take care of Rashid.
It was just better for Altaïr to stay as isolated as possible during those days because…
“Rahim warned me not to have sex with you here.” Altaïr said in lieu of greeting, his footsteps silent as he walked towards Desmond. He rested his back against the other wall and turned to look at Desmond as he said, “I told him that I won’t promise anything.”
Desmond let out a soft chuckle, imagining Rahim’s face so clearly his chuckle devolved to snickers afterwards. He pressed his side against the wall as he turned to look at Altaïr, “I’m sure he loved hearing that.”
Altaïr shrugged as he said, “I know you would never think of having sex this close to your father but I’m still not going to promise anything.”
“Because it’s a waste of a ‘promise’ when it’s a guarantee?” Desmond asked lightly, earning a nod from Altaïr.
Desmond grinned. He understood the logic behind it but Altaïr also knew that he was being annoying on purpose. While, logically, sure, it could be argued that he didn’t exactly lie, he knew what he was doing.
And what he was doing was fucking with Rahim.
“Sometimes, I think I’m a bad influence to you.” Desmond noted lightly, making Altaïr’s lips curved into a small smirk.
“Bold of you to assume that I wasn’t an asshole before I met you.” Altaïr countered and Desmond couldn’t help but laugh loudly.
Oh, that choice of words was definitely his influence and, dear god, it just tickled him all over hearing Altaïr say such a thing.
Altaïr’s smirk turned into a soft smile as he said quietly, “I missed hearing your laughter.”
Desmond stepped closer just as Altaïr walked towards him. The two of them meeting in the middle, right in front of the large window.
Desmond rested his arms on Altaïr’s shoulders as he said softly, “I missed you too.”
It didn’t matter that they slept in the same room. By nightfall, they would be too tired and would simply sleep in Altaïr’s old room.
Altaïr’s warmth comforted Desmond during those tiring days but, at the same time…
It just wasn’t enough.
Desmond leaned closer as he closed his eyes. Altaïr’s lips softly touched his and-
A sound between a bird squawking and an annoyed child thinking his parents were being gross kept their kiss from deepening.
Instead, they slowly pulled away, just enough to turn to look at the big window. Maud was hopping inside, glaring at them as she continued to hop closer.
She stopped and raised one of her talons, shaking the dust off as she pointedly looked at her talon then at them then back at her ‘dust-covered’ talon once more.
Desmond bit the inside of his cheek as he pulled away from Altaïr to turn to face her.
“I already asked Rahim to clean this floor.” Desmond informed Maud as she hopped back.
She shook the dust off her talons before looking around. She gave Desmond a look that he was going to interpret as ‘I don’t see any cleaning going around, do you?’.
Desmond sighed as he said, “I’ll go call Rahim, I promise.”
Altaïr went down on one knee as he asked, “Do you have something to report?”
She gave an unimpressed look at Desmond for another second before turning to answer Altaïr with a nod. She didn’t say or do anything else, instead hopping to turn away from them then flying out of the tower.
Desmond and Altaïr turned to look at one another and nodded. Desmond stepped back as Altaïr sat on the floor and closed his eyes.
It should be annoying how perfect his form was when he was meditating.
Desmond usually had the urge to scratch his armpit whenever he connected with Aquila that deeply.
Speaking of which, Desmond closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Before he could connect with Aquila though, he sneezed.
Damn…
Guess he should really talk to Rahim first about cleaning this floor.
He rubbed his nose before walking down the stairs. Just as he was about to reach the second to the last floor, he heard Altaïr’s voice coming from the floor above.
“Desmond…”
He turned around in time to see Altaïr take the first step down.
“That was quick.” Desmond commented as he blinked.
They stayed on the stairs as Altaïr announced, “Malik is coming.”
…
Well…
Something inside Desmond was ringing the ‘something’s up’ bell really loudly.
Two hours.
That was how long they had to wait for someone in Masyaf to come talk to them.
Not even long enough to actually rest.
“The older Al-Sayf boy is coming?” Diya al-Dīn hummed as he continued to rock the table between two spaces wide enough for simple cots to be laid on top. The table creaked dangerously and a bit more rocking and they heard a crack. Diya al-Dīn stopped rocking it as he said, “Mark this as another danger hazard please.”
“Yes, doctor.” Peredur diligently wrote something down on a small stack of paper.
Desmond knew his father long enough to know that it was going to be filled with ‘complaints’ and suggestions about how dangerous this place was for an emergency sick bay.
His father rubbed his hands together to clean off the dust clinging to his palms as he said, “Did Altaïr say anything on how he looked? Did he looked worried or angry?”
“Malik’s an Al-Sayf, father.” Desmond reminded him before joking, “Annoyed is like their default facial expression.”
Diya al-Dīn chuckled as he shook his head but he didn’t scold his son or disagree with him. Instead, he nodded as he said, “Well, there’s no need to worry until we hear what he has to say.”
Diya al-Dīn nodded at Nahir as he said, “I’ll have Nahir pretend to be me and stay at the top while you meet with the young Al-Sayf.”
Nahir bowed silently and Diya al-Dīn smiled at him as he continued, “I’ll stay here, just in case. Everyone will keep patrolling while you and Altaïr talk to him. I’m sure he’ll be more at ease if he was talking to you than me.”
Desmond wasn’t so sure about that, considering how Malik must saw him as a pain to deal with.
Diya al-Dīn turned to look at Desmond, “Our part ends here, Desmond. Whatever their choice will be, we will adapt.”
Diya al-Dīn closed his eyes as he said, “This is both Alamut’s atonement and punishment, after all.”
“I don’t agree with that.” Desmond said, making his father open his eyes to stare at him, “Atonement… punishment… I don’t really agree with the idea that the child has to shoulder their parents’ fuck-ups.”
“I do think you share a bit of blame with how bad our relationship with Masyaf had become.” Desmond added before shrugging, “But I don’t think it’s fair for me or Jalāl to have to ‘atone’ for something we weren’t even a part of.”
“Whatever Masyaf chooses to do, we’ll accept it and mark this as the end of whatever feud we have with them. What happens next will be the choices your sons’ make for the future they envision.” He shrugged as he continued, “So I guess your punishment will be to watch over us and tell us the truth, no matter how painful it may be.”
Diya al-Dīn stared at him for a moment before smiling softly, “What a cruel punishment that would be.”
“The worst.” Desmond agreed with a smile before patting the door, “Well-”
The door creaked dangerously and Desmond quickly stepped back in case the frame gave out.
It did not but…
“I think you should note that down too.” Desmond said to Peredur as he stared at the frame warily.
Peredur, who had been pretending to be part of the room like a tall coat rack took that as a sign that the heavy conversation was done and joked, “Should we be worried that the ceiling will collapse on us?”
Desmond and Diya al-Din’s eyes met for a fraction of a second and Diya al-Dīn used a plank of wood to hit the ceiling hard, earning a yelp from Peredur.
Nothing happened.
“Seems secured… for now.” Diya al-Dīn noted with a grin, making Desmond and Nahir chuckle as Peredur rubbed his chest.
Desmond grinned at his father before walking away.
At least he had some time to smile before Malik came with news, whatever it may be.
Malik reached them half an hour later, alone with only a horse carrying a heavy bag on its back for company.
Desmond and Altaïr were waiting on the first floor, actually cleaning it a bit because they had nothing else to do when Rahim came inside to inform them that Malik had arrived before stepping to the side to let Malik in.
Desmond didn’t even have to say anything, Rahim already knew that he would want to talk to Malik inside.
“Hey, Malik. Want something to drink?” Desmond asked before dramatically saying, “Oh wait. This tower doesn’t have any supplies at all.”
He grinned at Malik as he said, “Sorry about that. We have a bucket of water from a nearby well though, if you’re alright with that.”
“It’s alright. I’m not thirsty. The guard towers don’t have any supplies in case it falls to enemy hands.” Malik explained and Desmond already knew that something was wrong because he wasn’t subjected to the patented Al-Sayf’s resigned sigh.
Desmond sat on the chair and offered the chair on the other side of the table. Malik didn’t say anything but sat in front of Desmond.
“Rashid will be executed next dawn.” Malik stated like he was just reporting a mission to the Rafiq. Desmond remained quiet although his eyes met Altaïr’s. Altaïr was calm as he stared at Malik.
They had both expected this…
Desmond supposed… Altaïr had enough time to be ‘ready’ for this.
“The council will be leading Masyaf moving forward. There are no plans to replace Rashid with a new mentor.” Malik continued, pausing for a moment before adding, “Masyaf would need time to…”
Malik stopped once more. He looked at the table between them before raising his eyes to stare at Desmond, “Right now, it’s important for Masyaf to fix whatever Rashid leaves behind and there’s too many of them who do not trust Alamut, especially after your declaration that you’ll be watching them.”
‘Watching’ was such a strong word. Keeping an ear out, would be-
Wait.
“Them?” Desmond repeated with a frown.
Malik’s lips curled into a mirthless smile as he announced, “As of this moment, I’ve been banished from Masyaf.”
Notes:
See why I told you all to read Moonalight's fic first? Hahahahaha
According to Know Your Meme, ‘bold of you to assume’ originated around 2014 but, fuck it, let’s say it happened in AC world’s fandom during the year of 2012 with kinda like “bold of you to assume I have blood” in response to a Tumblr user warning people not to go to Abstergo’s Blood Donation Drive worldwide XD
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