Addiction

At times, Adah contemplated leaping from his tall white horse. Just falling to the ground below and speeding back towards Jerusalem and its gates of freedom, but she knew she would not make it that far alone and so did Altaïr which is why he choose to share the same mount and travel while the hours of darkness still lay over the land.

The air was cold and the trail of which they traveled appeared oddly peaceful, but one would have to be blind not to see the tension building between them was heavier than the surrounding morning mist. She had not spoken but a few words to Altaïr since the trip began and that was only when it was absolutely necessary. For some reason sparking conversation with the man trying to steal what’s left of the life she so narrowly managed to hold together all this time was not quite something she had in mind.

But it was too quiet and the soft droning sound of the steed’s footsteps as he hauled them to the destination that marked the end of her freedom was not comforting in the slightest. She hadn’t planned on setting foot into Masyaf again for quite some time, but fate was an infuriating thing. Just when you think you have your path completely mapped out before you, it comes bouncing back to mock you by clumsily splashing your plans with a vat of thick black ink.

A small smile crept its way over her lips when the sound of his loud gaping yawn behind her ear broke her train of thought. She knew Altaïr had not slept at all tonight and doubted he would until much later. Now that Al Mualim’s soul was at rest, Altaïr became obligated to assume the role as a successor in his stead since no other was confident enough to stake its claim. So unfortunately, there would be several tasks awaiting his attention once they returned to the fortress and resting would not be one of them.

‘Ever the dutiful Assassin.’ she glowered to herself as she continued to brood.

But she knew the desire for him to sleep would continue to creep closer as the trip progressed and judging by their currently sluggish pace, his fatigue must finally be settling in. So for now, she would bide her time and force herself to be content with simply dozing off and on against his surprisingly warm chest while waiting for that fateful moment at the fortress to forge her escape.

Adah closed her eyes and burrowed herself under the hood of his oversized white robe in an attempt to shut out the light of dawn peeking over the Kingdom skies. In actuality, she wanted nothing more than to tear his robe off and throw it at him, but she had no wish to parade naked into town atop his horse since he had decided to take the liberty of destroying her clothing last night.

Altaïr lowered his heavy golden brown gaze to the top of her cloth covered head when she shifted against his chest. The majority of the journey he had been unable to see her face… but he didn’t need to, seeing as he was convinced she was everything but joyful underneath that hood. He had already expressed his intentions to her and knew there would be some resistance; no great change came without it. Thus he remained confident that she would come around. As they passed through the Saracen army’s territory, he had promptly instructed her to continue to still her tongue until they were clear and was ever grateful when she obliged. He was exhausted and in no mood to deal with Salah al-Din’s soldiers and their brazen attitudes. But now that they were elsewhere, she had once again reverted back to not speaking to him at all…

Heaving a sigh, he tightened his arm around her waist and wearily propped himself up against her back. Perhaps it was for the best that no words passed between them and to grudgingly welcome her decision to become mute for the time being.

At least this way it made it harder for them to continue to rub one another the wrong way.


+++


It wasn’t long before they arrived in the busy city. ‘I swear my clumsiness will be the death of me!’ she fumed, still dusting the loose dirt from her stiff, disobedient legs that failed to assist her climb down from Altaïr’s horse. When he offered a hand to help her up, she didn’t fail to notice the crooked grin plastered to his face which disappeared when she frowned annoyed at him.

As an alternative to staring daggers at his back while she trotted quietly behind his feet inside the city, he decided to make it up to her by stopping in front of a merchant stand and letting her pick out several new items of clothing. At first she tried to protest until she was blue in the face, the elderly merchant’s wrinkly eyes passing back and forth between the bickering couple.

“I WILL have need of my robe at some point or another.” Altaïr argued, still clad in only his grey shalwar and kameez, his eyes trailing lazily over her partially exposed legs.

Crossing her arms, she turned her back to him. “I would not be wearing it had you not sliced up my clothing!”
A light chuckle turned their attention back to the merchant.

“You’ve a fiery one on your hands there, my friend.” the old man commented to the Assassin, his arm motioning towards Adah who was stubbornly refusing to look at them. “Come now, surely your husband is not as bad as you make him out to be-”

“He is NOT my husband!” she deadpanned, almost losing balance as she spun around on the old man, a few passerbies’ stopping to stare at her outburst. A strong hand in the small of her back abruptly pushed her up to the clothing laid out before her on the stand, Altaïr’s chide command booming over her head, “Choose.”

One more battle lost before it actually began. Later, he’d told her that destroying her dress was necessary, claiming it to be tainted with stolen money and that he would give her funds if she needed. Well, the last thing she wanted was for him to think she needed his assistance. And as if that weren’t bad enough, she almost died when he also confessed to taking her coin pouch and emptying it over the balcony of the hospital back in Jerusalem while she slept!

And that had been the end of that...

She pouted and glanced down at the new jade knee length dress she wore then focused her attention back on the ceremony at hand. Through the library window, she stared at the gathering of Assassin’s in the garden behind the fortress library. A new soul was being initiated into the Order of the Hashshashin. This one went by the name of Jalil…

He was strange, albeit rather snobbish, and unbelievably bad-mannered! Upon meeting him early this morning as she followed behind Altaïr into the library, Jalil had the gall to demand why a woman was degrading their presence. Initially she could have railed him about his rudeness, but she had to agree with him. She would prefer to be anywhere else except inside this dusty library filled with musty old books. Altaïr had stepped in to reprimand him, but she waved him off. It really didn’t matter because Jalil would get his soon enough. He didn’t know it but during the ceremony, he would be passed a goblet and be drugged to imitate the feeling that death was at hand and his ability would then be tested in the face of his own demise. She used to hate watching it as a girl. The tests always looked so tortuous and cruel… Should he pass he would later be awakened, convinced he has entered the gates of heaven and be praised and welcomed by his new Master with a banquet surrounded by the many virgin women inhabiting the garden.

Adah folded her arms and sighed, watching the many tiny seeds prancing in the garden’s gusty air, envious of their never-ending freedom. To her surprise she had ran into her old friend Kadar, now a fortress guard, who was happy to keep her company. He was in a bit of a shock when she strolled in behind Altaïr after almost five years, but pleased all the same.

She sighed. It would be quite a while now before the ceremony came to a close. Nevertheless, the time to make her retreat was growing near. Holding the ceremony was the last task at hand for Altaïr which meant sleep would finally follow shortly after and the sooner he was asleep, the closer she would get to reclaim the freedom that she knew was rightfully hers.

+++

‘Apparently becoming the Master of their Order has its benefits...’ Adah thought as her drowsy eyes looked out the window of the small mosque that stood behind the spacious garden behind the fortress. She couldn’t remember how much a long bath and sleep in an actual bed could feel so good. After grabbing her black scarf quietly from the chest at the foot of the bed, she looked back to Altaïr. He looked so peaceful, unlike the times during his wakeful hours when his eyes told a different tale. She padded over and crouched down in front of his slumbering form.

‘Still sleeping heavily as though it is your last night, I see.’ She thought with an air of indignation as her eyes scanned over him for the last time. His face and bare, lengthy torso imprinted to her memory for the last time as he slept on his side under the glow of the moonlight.

She was well aware that Altaïr only wanted to offer her a better life, but the one he was replacing it with was not that of which she truly wanted and was more the life he saw fit for her. Unlike most women her age, she didn’t want the typical life with a home and family. Not when there was still so much in the world yet to be seen. Her mother already tried to determine her fate by attempting to arrange a marriage for her before she died, saying she needed the right kind of stability in her life. At first Adah didn’t really mind and it seemed all her mother really cared about was that she was marrying into wealth. But later she discovered, to her disappointment, the young man she was to wed was destined to become a shopkeeper, meaning she would never get to experience the wide open world around her by living a miserable and sheltered life.

Thankfully the arrangement was never completed due to her mother’s passing. However, the events in her life seemed to only spiral downhill from there until the day Altaïr came into her world. He was what made her broken life bearable and gave her heart hope until he crushed those pieces too. Well their actions in Jerusalem last night had been a mistake and Altaïr wasn’t going to get a second chance… She had allowed the cold and indifferent murderer in him to manipulate her heart for the final time.

Her fingers absentmindedly rose to smooth along his stubbly jaw line that she used to adore so much, but withdrew her fingers once she realized what she was doing. Instead she stood and secured the black scarf tightly around her shoulders then progressed quietly through the door to hopefully leave behind the man who will probably continue to seek her out for the rest of her days…

‘Why must she insist on a life that is not suited for her?’ Altaïr thought tiredly as his eyes opened in time to watch her back disappear through his door.

Being a heavy sleeper had become something of the past for him after adapting to the increasingly hazardous life as a hashshashin. It can be difficult to sleep when the continuous threat of becoming the hunted was rapidly breathing down one’s neck. With an annoyed groan he rose from the bed to dress. He needed to find her before she reached the Kingdom and discover for herself what it meant to play in enemy lands.

+++

Hiding behind a guard post that overlooked the trail into the Kingdom, Adah looked up at the moon trying to discern the time and determine how long she had before sunrise and most importantly, how she was going to slip through this camp of Saracen soldiers marching around the corner. If she thought sneaking passed the Assassin’s of Masyaf was difficult, she wasn’t prepared for this rude awakening. During the day they would care less, but by her traveling at night alone and from the direction of Assassin territory, they would have all the more reason to be suspicious. She slunk back into the shadows when a handful of them swaggered past.

Refusing to be deterred she jumped up when the trail straight ahead cleared and with a renewed hopefulness she crept her way silently through their camp. Most of the soldiers appeared to be settled around a fire in the middle, their consistent chattering drowning out her tiny footsteps in the background as she dipped and dodged through their makeshift tents.

‘Almost there…’ she chimed as the clearing behind a strangely large green tent gradually came into view. She suddenly dipped out of the way when a soldier emerged from one of the tents. Watching his retreating back to make sure she went unseen, she then shot around the corner and to her surprise, slammed directly into a wall-like chest, tumbling to the ground.

“Hm? Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Wincing Adah shook her head and looked up at a tall heavily armored man garbed in a faded green and gold, his pointed helmet topped with the crested icon of the Saracen.

‘Of all those to run into out here, Adah… you run into a Lieutenant!’ she raged in her mind.

Her instincts urged her to get up and crawl, run, anything except sit there and watch his hand grabbing at her ankle.

“And where do you think you’re going?” his Arabic accent thick and scathing, dragging her through the dirt towards the fire in the middle of their camp. The other soldiers jumped up from their logged seats, the sound of a protesting feminine voice grabbing their attention as she was dragged to the belly of the camp.

“Men! Look what I have found sneaking around my tent! Tell me what you think I should do with this one?” he laughed heartily, the soldiers swarming up to her. Adah panicked.

“Wait! I am just a traveler!”

“Awfully late to travel at night and alone, yes? Who are you running from? A husband, perchance?” he responded, slipping the scarf off her head, his fingers trailing through her hair then tightening at the root. She cringed.

“I say a good punishment may be in order. Maybe I should drag you into my tent and see just how much you are willing to give for your freedom.”

“No, no... Please!” Adah cried and tugged against his grip.

The lieutenant grinned at her and worked to undo the belt at his waist. “And afterwards I may deliver you back to your pathetic husband that cannot keep a simple woman under control!”

A hard thump sounded behind the group of lecherous men. The group looked on as a soldier fell forward to the ground, his eyes staring blankly ahead with the hilt of a silver dagger jutting from the back of his neck.

“ASSASSIN!!” one of them rang out and never had Adah thought that one word ever meant so much as Altaïr strode into their camp. Once the hand in her hair released its hold, she crawled through the scrambling soldiers searching futilely for their weapons.

“So… this one was cowardly enough to use one of their harlot’s as a diversion to ambush us!” shouted the Lieutenant. “Men! Before you take his head bring him to me, for he shall watch as she is violated by each and every one of you before his very eyes!”

“NO! I have done no wrong! Have mercy on me, PLEASE!!” Adah screamed, inching backwards on her hands and away from a soldier hurriedly shrinking the distance towards her.

The man leered at her through his thick dark beard as he approached, his hand rearing back to deliver a hard agonizing blow. She cowered and waited for the inevitable wallop of his heavy hand, but to her surprise it never came. Her hands fell in her lap when she looked up to find herself staring at the pointed tip of a sword piercing the soldier’s torso. It jerked forward, stopping just inches from her nose and sprinkling her face with tiny droplets of blood. The soldiers pained grunt pierced the air as he looked down at the long dripping blade threatening to split his torso in two. To shut out the haunting sight, Adah turned away when the soldier let out a strangled groan, the sword twisting slowly before being swiftly wrenched from whence it came.

“Oh my GOD!” she exclaimed, her eyes following the man’s descent as he was thrown to the ground in a heap of blood and grief to take his last breaths.

She saw Altaïr step to her casually, wearing a malicious smirk across his face from the excitement of adding another notch to his already crowded belt. Adah fearfully peered up at him as if in a daze as though she were meeting him for the first time, fresh tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. The soldier on the ground coughed up a dark puddle of crimson just as his eyes rolled behind his eyelids to welcome deaths embrace.

The wicked smirk didn’t fade from Altaïr’s face until she shrank away from him when he quickly extended a hand to her. She had never witnessed him take a life and he wished she would never have to, but he wouldn’t stand by and watch as another dared placing his hands on her. Even on his last breath, he would use that ounce of life protecting her than wasting it with a failed attempt to save his own life.

His mouth opened to urge her to go into hiding, but the sound was broken as a thick wooden arrow tore into his left shoulder, causing him to almost stumble over her. He grunted as the pain tore up his back. The tug of her small hands at the tail of his white robe went unnoticed when Altaïr reached for a dagger at his back and hurled it in the direction the arrow has just come. It landed successfully into the archer’s thigh across the clearing, the soldier toppling over the boulder that was formerly his perch. Pulling his short blade from his back with his good arm, he quickly proceeded back towards the Lieutenant and his remaining men closing in.

Adah could hardly believe the horrific scene unfolding before her eyes as her hands were ripped free of Altaïr’s robe. Even with an arrow buried into his shoulder, he was still one step ahead of them all. He was tearing through the handful of soldiers with ease and held no remorse. She watched helplessly as Altaïr murdered the soldiers one by one, he and the Lieutenant now dancing the dance of death while blood seeped through Altaïr’s robes as he twisted about to try and catch the man’s throat.

To Altaïr’s surprise the Lieutenant was side stepping his strikes easily. He didn’t get the chance to regain his footing and an agonizing groan tore from his throat when the Lieutenant grabbed the feathered end of the arrow protruding from his shoulder and painfully pushed him to his knees. He felt his hood pulled down and the Lieutenant’s hand fisting into his hair to force his eyes to lock with Adah’s hysterical pair of hazel one opposite the camp.

“Look at her, damn you! Surely, you do not think this whore is worth losing your life over?” the officer exclaimed over Altaïr’s head and twisted the arrow more to enjoy the snarling pain emanating from the Assassin’s throat. “Heh, you Assassin’s are such cowards. I bet I could put her to far better use in the barracks for my men. You know, if you hand her over to me you just may live to see the light of another day.”

Altaïr growled out, “I do not fear death, nor do I hide disgracefully behind a woman to save my own soul. We will see who the coward truly is when death is staring you in the face.”

Ignoring the sheering pain, Altaïr reached up, broke off the arrowhead extending from the front of his shoulder and jammed it into the Lieutenant’s hip to his right. The arrow shaft slid from his back when the officer cried out and jumped back at the unexpected pain. Turning to take advantage of the opening, Altaïr grabbed the chest plate of the Lieutenant’s armor and stabbed his short blade several times into the officer’s chest. He didn’t wait for the sound of the body hitting the ground before speeding towards the wounded archer attempting to crawl to safety and with a fluid leap, thrust his hidden blade into the soldier’s throat.

Unable to even bring her legs to work nonetheless comprehend the insanity of these dark events, Adah could only gape in disbelief at the camp littered with mutilated bodies. Without the slightest glance in her direction, Altaïr retrieved his short blade from the Lieutenant’s chest and giving it one good swing to remove the excess blood, slid it back into place at his back. His eyes surveyed the area for any stragglers, his hands tightening at his sides.

At this point he couldn’t decide whether to let her find her own way back or just leave her here to wallow in the mess she created for herself. Neither of the options was favorable, but they were better than what the hole in his shoulder and the thin river of red oozing down his lip were demanding.

‘And she swears she can survive on her own…’ he thought bitterly as he collected his remaining daggers and weapons.

She hadn’t even moved since this madness began and based on her panic-stricken expression, probably wouldn’t for quite some time. Another disaster waiting to happen... Exhaling heavily, Altaïr strode in her direction to gather what’s left of the woman who would probably mean his death one day.

+++

As though trying to dress his shoulder wasn’t enough of a struggle on its own every time it needed changing, applying the stinging salve was the worst. The night they returned, he was rather cross with her and it took at least an hour to make him relax and get an adequate amount of balm in the wound. But now his clammy skin burned with fever from the infected injury and she couldn’t help feeling all the more contrite about the entire incident and the long hours of the past three days were not merciful in any way. The events of her escape into the kingdom were not lost on her. They were like a wakeful nightmare. So many of the soldiers horrific deaths flashed behind her eyes each time she closed them and Altaïr just lay there, unfazed and unchanged. But in a way it looked like he was fighting his own demons as he battled the fever raging with a fury. The other Assassin’s suggested bringing in a healer, but at long last the fever finally broke, permitting him to sleep as though he hadn’t slept in years and Adah had been more than happy to follow his lead after staying by his side for so long.
The sun had set when Adah’s head perked up, a narrowed gaze observing her surroundings and almost falling out of bed the moment she realized she was lounging on top of her patient. With a long leg hanging over the side, Altaïr slumbered deeply on his back. He lay unclothed from head to toe covered only by his red afghan below his waist as his clothes were the first to go while he succumbed to the fever. From the looks of his exhaustion, the floor underneath the bed could cave in right now and he wouldn’t even notice.

‘Why weren’t the lamps of the grounds outside lit?’ she thought hazily, the only light shining in being that of the moon dipping in and out of the clouds covering the night sky.

Perhaps Altaïr was right and that things here have settled down seeing as the fortresses guard was now at its minimal with Al Mualim gone. Feeling around in the dark, Adah found and lit a tall white candle next to the bed, investigating Altaïr’s bandages in desperate need of her attention. Her eyes studied the well-built plane of his chest and shoulders, stopping only to gaze at some of the newer scars that were just beginning to die away. When he was ill she had thought of her plan to run away from him and this town that seemed to follow her no matter where she went, but looking at him now, she couldn’t imagine herself walking away, not when he was like this…
Slipping on her sandals and scarf, she set out to replenish her medical supplies or try to in the thick murkiness of the fortress corridors where one could easily get lost.

And that’s exactly what happened.

After a while she found herself at a dead end, staring at an iron gate, hoping it would guide her back to the garden and the main fortress. Stealing a quick look through the closely welded bars, Adah pulled open the heavy gate and stood in its entrance. She frowned. It was just a room, but was strangely giving off the impression that she should not be there.

The room looked abandoned with a dozen wooden chests and crates along the floor, stacked one on top of the other. They all appeared old tattered and covered in the thickest layer of dust she had ever seen. She couldn’t resist opening them one by one, awed to discover most were filled with more heavy pieces of gold and silver coin than she had seen in her life.

Except for one with its intricate design and edges trimmed in the finest gold as it rested in the far corner. Its lid was topped with a small golden pair of the most magnificent eagle’s wings, their tips extended upwards as if they were reaching for heaven themselves. Curiously she bent down in front of it.

When she reached down to pop the lock, the lid creaked open all its own to reveal a small orb about the size of an apple with an oddly woven pattern contoured into every curve, the same design as the chest that made for its home. Reaching to touch it, Adah couldn’t resist marveling at the orbs beauty, but snapped her hand back when a dim yellow light poured out of its crevices and a translucent globe sprang forth.

Too caught up in what was going in front of her, she couldn’t have noticed the large gauntleted hands emerging from the darkness behind her to wrap around her mouth and waist. She squeaked as she was pulled back tightly against a solid chest, her heart leaping into her throat.

“You have less than a few seconds to state who you are and what business you have in here?” whispered a rough voice laced with impatience.

A muffled version of what sounded like his name called out underneath his hand and ever so slowly, Altaïr loosened his grip. When he’d come to, she was nowhere to be found in the room, but she was the last he expected to find in here.

“Y-you’re awake! am not used to this part of the fortress.” she responded turning to him and reaching up to trace her fingers over his long nose and bow shaped lips in the dark. Would she ever get used to him sneaking up on her? He released her and walked past the moment his eyes locked with the glowing chest in the corner.

“What is it?” she questioned, following him to the orb.

He didn’t say anything as he looked down at its glow. His hand rose and his long fingers passed several times through the light that emanated up towards the ceiling, their shadows flickering on the stone wall until they finally formed a fist and withdrew.

“This is the Piece of Eden.” was his response. “I would prefer not to touch it and would be best if you followed suit.”

When she crept closer, his hand shot out and brushed her to the rear, mindful of her close proximity with the orb.

“Of all the human reactions we could possibly wield, do not allow your own to be a foolish one. It looks as insignificant as any other trinket… but it is far from it. It’s a shame really that this,” he gestured, “an earthly possession, is what brought forth my Master’s death.”

She turned to look at the Assassin beside her who refused to look at her eyes, his reflective expression glued to the sphere below.

“Al Mualim,” he continued, “had become obsessed with it and its power to control one’s mind. Following his orders, I was sent to collect nine lives under his jurisdiction, declaring he was securing the peace of the Holy Land. Although his actions were in earnest, they were also misguided and in turn led to his downfall. No one must ever know of its existence...”

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow in speculation, noticing her dressed attire, too dressed to just be wandering the grounds. Even he remained bare, clad in only a pair of loose white leggings. He then pinched the bridge of his nose as if to fight an oncoming headache and sighed. “Why exactly did you find yourself here and what are you doing wandering the halls at this hour in the first place?”

“What? I-I was in need of more bandages to redress your wound, but I found myself here. I swear it.”
He glared at her. She had always been a horrible liar and to think she would look him in the eye and do it. He could think of no other reason for her to be fully clothed except going beyond the gates.

“Why are you so insistent upon running to join a life that would no sooner see you dead, a life that is dishonored by being a thief?”

She averted her eyes. He was wrong, but she was unable to fight the truth of his bombarding questions because she still did plan on leaving… eventually.

“....”

“Well? Did those Saracen soldiers not teach you anything? Because my shoulder is claiming is otherwise!”

“But you do not understand!” Adah blurted in defense.

“No, it is you who does not understand.” His patience was growing thin. “Do you not see that I am unwilling to allow you return to such a life?”

He yanked her back to him by her upper arms when Adah tried to walk away from the conversation, away from him. But not this time. He wasn’t going to let her keep ignoring him, keep trying to block him out every time she couldn’t get what she wanted. Adah exploded.

“NO, Altaïr! It does not matter whether or not I belong out there! All that concerns me is that I do not belong here and I do not belong to YOU!” she cried out as she thrashed against the grip on her arms, her scarf falling behind her head to gather round her shoulders.

Altaïr flinched at her outburst and forced her up against the brick wall behind her. He knew she was beyond frustrated and was only making it worse in forcing her to come to terms with her fate, but he had to make her see. No more illusions because he knew what the outside world was like and that it is not as trustworthy and forgiving as she may think. The war between King Richard and Salah al-Din was crawling right outside the fortress’s doorstep where manipulation and exploitation rule with an iron fist.

Struggling, Adah shoved forward and tripped over Altaïr’s boots, pulling him down with her to the cold dirty floor. Tossing her long hair behind her, she growled and lurched on top of him, her small fists pummeling his chest. She was tired of having everyone she came in contact with try and control her life. He squeezed her against him with one arm while the other attempted to capture her flailing wrists as they tussled across the floor.

What was it about her that made everyone think she needed their assistance? If he truly cared for her all those years ago, then why did he never voice it to her until now? Why bother dragging her through the pits of hell with him by coating her heart in the same crude blackness that covered his own?

Why?

Because he is who is and actions would always speak louder than any words that could ever slip passed his lips. It was the reason why he sought her out at every chance he could get when they were younger. All because both of them knew their urge to be together was undeniable… He was complex and as dangerous as he was deadly. It’s one of many things that drew her to him because he was the type of forbidden fruit that her patronizing mother would have never approved of.

And that’s what drove her crazy.

Before Adah realized her body had taken over, she was straddling his hips as she seductively sealed her mouth to his soft, rounded lips. Altaïr’s eyes widened as her nails dragged through his short unruly hair. When the roughened top of her tongue curled against the roof of his mouth, he immediately sat up and began to devour her lips and grope every available female curve while he still had the chance. Adah wasted no time in pushing him flat to the floor again and sliding down his legs. Thankful that he chose to leave his robes behind, she shrugged the hem of his shalwars down his hips, exposing his already thickening member to her eyes.

Altaïr blinked, swearing he was looking down at a different woman covering the muscled ridges of his stomach with her lips as her soft palms and fingers massaged the sensitive skin along the length of his shaft. Where was the young woman who was just threatening to rip his very heart from his chest? She had never shown any desire in past to be in control and that alone made him dreadfully aroused. His eyes rolled behind his eyelids for a moment and he moaned.

Adah was stunned as she watched the man beneath her audibly gasp, feeling the thickness of his erection swell further from the friction of her hands alone. He was so much larger and stronger than she, but he was virtually drowning under her whim. Curiously she dabbed at the clear fluid seeping from the tip of it with a finger, his eyes watching her little pink tongue darting tentatively to taste her finger, surprised to find it had a salty flavor that tasted uniquely of him.

That did it for him. Altaïr flung her back over him by her wrist, the pain in his shoulder now only that of a memory. No sooner was he able to bunch the knee length dress up her waist did Adah rise and quickly sink his hard, pleasing organ far within her dripping folds. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp and she heard him hiss as the heat of her grasping sex enveloped him. And it wasn’t until that very moment that she couldn’t imagine herself being anywhere else right now except curled inside this Assassin’s arms. They made for the warmest delusion that all was right with the world by allowing her to put behind all the infuriating things in her life that led to where she is now. They made her forget.

And that bittersweet feeling was what made all the difference.

Large impatient hands urged her hips to rock against his as she scratched and fought him stroke for stroke like the cruelest adversary he’d ever faced. The cold earth underneath them pressed into Altaïr’s back and buttocks as his hips rolled to set the feverish pace for her. His warm fingers dug into the flesh at her hips to also guide her rise and descent, hopelessly praying that this would be what dying felt like.

“Shhh…” she then heard him whisper and felt the press of his mouth and delving tongue into her own to swallow her sounds when a loud whimper escaped her throat. He groaned low and whispered for her not to stop when he felt her fingers run circles over his bandaged chest and caramel nipples. His own hands snaked their way under the velvety fabric of her dress, tickling down her back and gripping her bottom to make her accept every thick, glistening inch of his aching shaft as he could fit into that tight sheath of hers.

Her thighs spread further all their own when his thumb began to massage the wet neglected kernel budding from the apex of her folds. Trying desperately not to lose control of her body as he did this, Adah bit her lip and tried to shoo away his hand but he just smirked, continuing to pluck it gently with his fingers. He could feel how close she was to completion by the way her walls kept tightening around him and yearned to release himself deep within. As much as she tried to resist, he could feel her climbing with each thrust and was going to enjoy seeing her scatter to pieces all over his lap like the petals of a freshly crushed flower blowing in the gentlest breeze. Sitting up he buried a hand in her long ebony hair and pulled her head back, nuzzling his face in her throat as his other hand worked to bring her off. Cheeks red from exertion, her closed eyes suddenly tightened as the warmth in her belly finally exploded and her center clamped down to wring him dry, her arms tightening about his naked shoulders as she cried his name.

All form of thought escaped Altaïr, snagging his breath in his throat as he blissfully followed her glorious ascent with his own by bathing her walls with his seed in warm jutting bursts. After a moment, Adah slouched against his chest, his arms around her barely holding her up while he proceeded to apply tender bites along her jaw. Releasing her hold of his neck and shoulders, she allowed the pads of his fingers to rub circles over the two little dimples in the small of her back.

Lightheaded and dizzy, Altaïr was so engrossed in her and his still waning climax that he barely noticed when she began pushing against his shoulders and out of his lap until he felt himself slip from inside her. On wobbly legs she stood to try and right her wrinkled dress, inspecting the whirling room, splotched and doubling in front of her eyes.

She sighed as her emotions took a plummet. It was shame, her ridiculously constant companion. She’d wondered when it was going to show up. Once again she had allowed Altaïr to overcome her with lust. What happened to her self control? Her mother would probably turn over in her grave if she saw her now… knowing her daughter was a thief and sleeping with a murderer.

The room remained silent for a moment, a fresh pattering of rain beginning to bounce off the roof above. Puzzled, Altaïr scanned her silhouette blocking out the soft light from that accursed orb in the corner then reached to readjust his shalwars back up his waist. She was just standing there looking down at its hypnotic glow, tempting all those who looked upon it.

She turned away from it when he called to her and slowly leaned down to run her fingers along his jaw, her eyes gazing down into the darkest pools of golden brown. He found himself unable to resist leaning into those fingers but like everything else with her, the feeling was all too brief and those fingers began to extract and follow their owner when she moved towards the door. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her wrist yet she pulled it from him before he could manage a firm hold, causing her to stagger clumsily and cling to the gated entrance to keep her balance.

“Adah…” he called out to her again, his voice shuddering from the night air that had turned slightly colder since their tryst began. However it was a change he barely noticed because the way she lowered her head as though she were ashamed, felt icier than the any of the coldest winters. “I am truly at a loss as to what to do,” he sighed while running his slender fingers through his short dark hair. “What shall it take before you see-“

“Don’t say it…” she whispered, her breath forming a cold mist as she closed her eyes and began to weep, her forehead resting against the iron gate.

“-That I do still love you. I always have....”

The warm stream of tears leaked down her already flushed cheeks as she looked back into his eyes currently filled with a longing she had never seen in him before. He looked ravaged as he sat on the floor with his hair all over his head and that horrible bandage extended around his slim waist…

Her mouth gaped open to say something to him, but after the sound refused to come forth she shook her head and took several steps backwards then darted through the gate, trampling out of the black corridor to the garden below. Once he heard the slam of wooden door at end of the passageway echo down the hall, Altaïr forced his emotionless mask back into place should he cross any of his fellow companions. He stood and sighed inwardly as the addicting endorphins of his release continued to course through his blood. Slowly he walked out of the room and sealed the gate behind him, his trembling hands still grasping the iron bars. He frowned as he stared at the gate she’d just run out of, his hands tightening on the bars for a moment until finally he slammed his fist against the them, rattling them under the force.

He knew where to find her, but for now he would leave well enough alone. In her state she would most likely scamper about in the rain until she wore herself out, not really planning any kind of escape after her experience in the Kingdom. And with the way he was feeling right now, that would suit him just fine….

+++

Slinking along the balcony of the corridor now satisfied that his eavesdropping had provided the information he sought on the orb, Jalil’s hard black eyes watched through the window as the tall Assassin eventually disappeared out the passageway.

‘So… that foolish Prince had been right. Getting in here was no easy task, but it was worth it. The Assassins do still have the orb. No matter. Taking it from them will be most effortless since that woman is what keeps their Master with a blind eye.’ he grinned thoughtfully before skidding down the rounded edge of the mosque and dashing back to the main fortress.

+++

Well, treachery is afoot and it just keeps getting wilder by the minute between these two sad souls. Stay tuned and as always, R&R!

The Rusty Peach