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Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again	By : Imoshen Category: +A through F > Assassin's Creed Views: 3972 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed nor do I make money by publishing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 10
- 11
- 12
This wasn't love, this wasn't sex – he was fucking her, that's all. No more, no less. No emotions involved, he didn't care for her and he fucked her just like that using her body for one purpose and one purpose only, to satisfy his needs. He didn't aim for her pleasure, didn't care if she liked what he did. She was either a good actor or she really was enjoying his rough touches, the fingers wrapped around her neck when he pressed her face into the mattress as she was on her knees and he thrust into her almost violently. He didn't like watching their faces, never did. He couldn't stand it when he saw their eyes, couldn't stand it when they tried to kiss him. Kisses were for lovers, not for whores. She met his thrusts and pushed her hips backwards as he moved in and out of her, her moans filling the room while he hardly made a sound at all. Skin slapping against skin, wet bodies touching, nails raking over limbs, scratching, biting, searching.

In the end he didn't come, pulling out of her and kneeling for a few more moments behind her naked form, breathing heavily and running his fingers through sweat soaked hair. She turned around, her cheek still pressed against the mattress, eying him and her gaze almost burnt him. “What's wrong?”

He looked at her, his lips moving but no sound came. He got off the bed, reaching for his clothes and got dressed quickly. “What's wrong?”, she asked again, her voice rising with confusion and she sat up, pulling her knees underneath her body, wrapping the blanket around her body to hide from his sight. Altair would have almost scoffed. He looked at her, cold eyes burning into hers and he reached for the small pouch on his belt, placing a few coins on the small table right next to the door. It was enough money to pay for the whole night. She called after him but he didn't pay her any attention at all as he made his way through the brothel and out onto the streets of Paris.

Altair wiped his face, his hood up shielding him from curious eyes and turning him into a faceless shadow. He'd no idea why he went there, why he sought a woman's warm touch. Sex wasn't even that important to him, in all honesty it often rather bored him. It was a physical need which was necessary every now and then but nothing he truly enjoyed. Most of the times he tried to ignore it, knew no good would come of it ever since-

No. None of that. No thoughts about him. It was neither the right time nor the right place to think about it. He was on a mission, his master counting on him – he wouldn't disappoint Al Mualim, wouldn't let himself get distracted any further. It was bad enough he'd visited a brothel, in the end it only felt degrading.

Altair returned to the small room he currently stayed at, renting it for small money right above the small shop of a blacksmith. It was late the night and he would depart tomorrow morning and return to Masyaf to deliver the news.

When he opened the door Altair knew instantly something was off and he scanned the chamber, his eyes soon falling on a figure sitting on his bed. He felt for his throwing knives, about to pull one small dagger out and aiming for the person sitting there but it wasn't the blade that cut through the silence, but the figure's smooth velvet voice. “That's no way to greet old friends.” Altair still throw his knife and it hit the mattress right next to the man's thigh but he chuckled unimpressed.

“No, it's my way of greeting you”, Altair muttered and walked through the dark room, reaching for an lamp and lit it, the oil burning quickly His face was instantly illuminated by a soft glowing orange, the flame trembling and creating flickering shadows across the walls. The bed creaked when he moved, getting off and walking towards the young assassin, hand laying on Altair's shoulder to turn him around. “You lack some manners then”, he muttered, eyes roaming over his face and he cupped his jaw, his thumb brushing over Altair's scar. “I should teach you some”, he added as he leaned towards, closing the distance between them and consuming Altair's mouth with a kiss.

He punched him in the guts and the man groaned, stumbling backwards and rubbing his palm over his stomach. “You don't touch me like that”, Altair told him and his fingers got already busy to remove his chestplate. Another of his chuckles filled the room and he sat back on the bed, leaning heavily on his elbows as he watched Altair removing his belt and red sash, folding the latter neatly and placing it on top of the armor which now lay on the table. “No”, he said nonchalantly and waved his hand, “I just fuck you.”

“You missed me Saleh?” Altair stared at him, his robes gaping and revealing a flat stomach with a soft trail of hair leading from his navel further down and underneath the waistband of his trousers.

“I missed your mouth around my cock.”

“Can you even get it up old man?” Saleh looked at him, lips pressed tightly together. It wasn't like Altair said something which wasn't true. Salehwas old, could be his father actually, his hair already turning gray and looked just as silver as the moon's light. It was a sight he'd rather forget. Saleh snorted at him and rolled his head from one side to the other, the ordinary clothes of nothing but a man seeming strange on his body.

“How long has it been now boy? Three years? Four?”

“Five”, Altair said unimpressed, sitting down on the chair to remove his boots and he groaned when his feet were finally free as they hurt from the day. He leaned back and eyed Saleh skeptical. “So how come you are here?”, Altair asked, his whole body radiating distress. He didn't want him here, he didn't want to see Saleh's face, didn't want to waste his energy speaking with an outcast. Somebody who waited for Al Mualim's heart to turn soft again to welcome him back into the Order – they both knew no such thing would ever happen as Saleh was forced to live in exile with no chance to ever return. Still, he clung on to that hope and maybe that was his way of staying sane – so who was Altair to judge?

Saleh just smirked and lowered his head, eyes hidden from Altair's sight. “I count nine fingers. So you've finally achieved your blade. You father would be proud”, and Altair gritted his teeth, hating it with all his guts whenever he was talking about his father, bringing his ghost back from the dead to the living. “But it seems you still lack an assassin's ability when it comes to going unnoticed. There were rumors filling the lands, Altair, rumors about a white ghost leaving a trail of blood behind. I followed your trail and look who I found? The boy I turned into a man. I'd call it destiny wouldn't you agree?”

“I'd call it misfortune.”

Saleh sighed and placed one hand to his chest, falling onto the mattress with his back first and staring up the ceiling. “Uhg, I'm hurt boy, I'm deeply hurt.” He looked at him again, propping himself up using one of his elbows. “What is it with you? Normally you would have been already on your knees sucking my dick and yet you're still sitting there with too much clothes on. That needs to change.”

Altair just shook his head, swallowing every threat down which was about to leave his lips and roll over his tongue. “Just... go Saleh. Go wherever you came from. Whatever it is you're seeking I assure you it's not here”, he sighed and wiped his face with one hand, peering at the older man through his fingers. Saleh's eyes grew cold and distant and his face wrinkled up as he sat and looked at Altair. “Ah”, he said and licked across his lips, rubbing the back of his head, “you see I'm very disappointed.”

“Why is that?”

Saleh slowly turned to Altair and straightened his back, making it even more visible that he was at least two heads bigger than the young assassin. “After all I've done for you and after we finally meet each other again I thought I would get a warmer welcoming and not getting kicked out”, he stood up walking towards Altair. His muscles tensed and his fingers curled into a fist when he craned his neck to look up at Saleh in order to meet his eyes. If it was needed he would defend himself, if it was needed Altair was ready to kill, no matter if old friend or not. Saleh placed one hand onto the small table behind him, leaning down to Altair. “It seems you've forgotten why I'm here. It would have needed nothing more but a word and it'd be you in my position, cast out like a lousy dog. And why not? Because I made a promise to your father”, he whispered, foul breath crawling over his skin as the man leaned into him, his lips almost touching his ear.

“I'm not sixteen anymore”, he said but his voice sounded uneven and breathless, his heart beating wildly. He shouldn't feel like this and Altair felt disgusted with himself. “I'm not the boy I used to be, easy to manipulate and following your orders.”

“No you're not sixteen anymore”, and Altair could feel how his lips pulled into a grin against his ear. “But you still are the boy easy to manipulate. The only thing that changed is that it isn't me anymore fucking you but that Master of yours, fucking with your mind and playing you like a little puppet and you're sitting here, too arrogant and blinded by the Order's lies to see the truth.”

It was then he snapped, pushing Saleh away and sending the man stumbling backwards, standing up fast so the chair lost its balance and hit the ground. “It's time for you to leave”, he breathed through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed to small slits, chest heaving with unresolved anger.

“Indeed it is”, Saleh nodded as he rubbed his chin, looking Altair up and down. “It's truly a shame then, you've had all the potential but you decided to throw it all away. I thought you were your father's son but it seems you're nothing more but one of Al Mualim's sheep.” Saleh snorted and made his way towards the door, his hand already reaching for it. He stopped right next to Altair though, his fingers touching the handle but he didn't pull the door open yet. “Al Mualim caught me fucking you and I was the one sent away into exile, yet you were allowed to stay. Ever wondered why?”

“Out”, he snarled, staring at Saleh from the corner of his eye. The old man nodded. “I see”, Saleh said and smirked. “You do know then.”

He stepped out of the room and the door fell shut behind him and Altair stood there, watching his world burn with chaos.
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again