Dream Story Question - Assassin's Creed II Message Board for PlayStation 3 - GameFAQs
The Templars obviously know who Altair is at this point, so why don't they attack? Did Altair's relationship with Maria influence him in to. In , once the Assassin Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad killed eight Templar agents spread throughout the Holy Land, Maria was assigned by Robert to act as his decoy. It feels weird that Altair let Maria (a woman who tried to kill him, set just a "mr. spoonfed observer" when it comes to narrative relationships lol).
She had got away, again. Some jailer he was! Just because she could wrap him round her little finger, he was soft on her. She knew just how to make him melt; that innocent, wide-eyed, butter-wouldn't-melt stare, with the fluttering eyelashes, would get him to loosen the chains that were supposed to keep her, a prisoner of the Assassins, bound to him; out of trouble, and danger.
That girl did it every time. Actually, that wasn't true. He would often wonder, why would she want to do that with the person who was keeping her held prisoner. To build up trust, perhaps, or to lull him into a false sense of security, before giving him the slip. Like today; one moment she had been squeezing his thumb like a sweet little girl with her small, soft, but strong fingers, and then she was gone, bounding through the crowds.
Now it was dusk, and the markets had packed up for the day, the crowds had dispersed, just a straggler here, a guard there, but Maria was nowhere to be seen.
He had to find her before daybreak, otherwise there would be trouble. Strangely, he wanted to keep an eye on the girl for more than just the fact that she was his prisoner. Quite often — for whatever reason — he couldn't sleep at night, and he would walk across the quarters, kneel beside her, to watch her doze. She had pretty lips, and lovely, dark, wavy hair, which she took down at night. The way it spilled over her face and around her shoulders, there was something so alluring, so More than once, he had found himself sleeping beside her.
Because of his swiftness, or it may well have been sheer luck, nobody, not even Maria, knew of what he did in the night. Yes, she was gorgeous, and he wanted to keep her safe. Goodness knows he didn't want the death of another beautiful woman on his conscience. He reached the harbour, and started searching the cargo boxes, kicking each one sharply, hoping that it would startle her enough to make her jump out of her hiding place.
Damn it, he thought. He had spotted someone in peril, but there was no-one around to help. He couldn't swim, so there was no way he could give aid. He guessed he might be able to ease one of the smaller boats into the harbour, and hopefully get to the person in time? Yes, that would do. He wandered over to a suitable-looking boat. Curiously, there was a pile of neatly folded clothes within the little wooden vessel. Did they belong to the figure in the water, he idly wondered.
The loud exclamation had come from the figure in the water, who was slowly waving a slender arm. I am your prisoner, after all. Strange, he thought, he had not been struck or injured in that area Anxiously, he waited for Maria to resurface, so he could yell at her some more.
The Oracle Turret
Twenty seconds later, she came back up to the surface, her long, soaked hair sticking to her face, shoulders and chest. Not too much, but enough to let the Assassin know that she was at least shirtless. Was this some kind of trick, some method of disarming him so she could make good her escape?
Why was this woman toying with him like this? It was quite obvious she was capable of swimming back to the jetty; why did she not just do so, instead of risking a knife in the head?
He kept an eye on Maria, who smiled to herself. He thought she didn't know, how he would settle down by her side, just to get to sleep at night. She knew, how he would scuttle like a rat back to his sheets at the break of dawn, and act like he had been there all night. She hadn't said anything to him because, quite honestly, she didn't want him to stop doing it. Lately, she hungered for them.
So this is what he looked like in all his glory. She knew his face well, all too well, as he spent every waking moment, as well as most of his sleeping ones, in her company, but was very impressed with his physique; she guessed that was what came from training as a merciless killing machine for most of one's life. His ebony hair, all sticking up the way it was, untamed from being under a hood most of the time, softened his badass image, making him look No wonder he wore that hood all the time; he had a reputation to maintain.
Maria was watching him, with a smile on her face. Her plan was working perfectly. He just needed a little And move your arms as well Something told him that this was probably intentional, and it would be a good idea to try and swim after her. Letting go of the jetty, he noticed that instead of sinking, he could hold himself up with his own strength. He began to kick his legs, just as Maria had told him, and copied the arm movements he'd seen her doing, rotating the whole arm from the shoulder, alternately.
He found himself moving swiftly through the water, towards the beautiful girl. He was so fast, he managed to catch her by surprise, cheekily splashing her as he swam past. Maria stopped, and began treading water, frowning at the Assassin, who was relieved to find they were still in the shallower part of the harbour, and his feet were able to touch the bottom.
He steadied himself and grinned back at the scowling girl, whose thinning lips were pulled tight, disapprovingly. Suddenly, those beautiful, kissable lips relaxed and formed a smile. Then he wiped the excess water from his face, blinking away the salt water that was stinging his eyes.
Hiding in Plain Sight: Cyclical Love in Assassin’s Creed | The Oracle Turret
He ran a hand through his soaking hair. He didn't think he would be able to rescue her if she did, Heaven forbid, get into difficulties. Fortunately, this didn't seem to be the case, although she did disappear from view underneath the surface a few times; he was too cowardly to put his face under the water to search for her.
As he tried to look for the elusive girl, he felt two hands either side of his hips. A second later, something slipped down his legs, and he was aware that he had been relieved of his linen undershorts. He sighed, feeling the water freely rippling around his exposed groin. Her soaked skin felt good next to his, he thought, why hadn't he learned to swim earlier? He gazed into her sapphire eyes, which were shining in the moonlight.
He stroked a few hanks of sodden hair out of her face, tracing the outline of her lips with his finger, longing to kiss them.
He felt her hands creep up his back, her arms encircle his chest, reaching up for him. Maria's bare breasts were out of the water, dripping wet; it was a sight to behold. He longed to touch and stroke that soft, perky chest, but did not want to let his hands explore those areas just yet, lest it offend the pretty woman.
Instead, noticing her lips were touching the bridge of his nose, he looked up. He cleared his throat. He'd recently had a shave. Just to come looking for her? She put this oddity to the back of her mind and returned to the matter at hand.
Maria shook her head and sighed. To be honest, he had waited months and months to do this, despite the fact he had nearly killed her when they very first met.
He was so glad that he hadn't. He felt her tongue slide keenly between his lips; it felt so good. All of a sudden, she paused, and cautiously looked over her shoulder. He bit his lip, trying vainly to ignore his thumping heart, and tingling, nervous, but strangely pleasurable, feeling in his stomach. Undaunted, he chuckled mischievously. He noticed Maria was now shaking as she squeezed him round his firm chest. Was she cold, he wondered. Perhaps they should head for shore now. The sun had completely disappeared behind the horizon, leaving only a bright crimson line shimmering in the dark waters beyond the bay.
He glanced to the shore, and saw only the lamplights from distant buildings; not a soul around; his superhuman second sight told him this.
Maria grunted in surprise. She fancied him so much, and was always trying to make him chase her, it was dangerous, fun, and it made her feel excited, alive. She had often wished he would kiss her like this, like lovers would, and now it was finally happening, she was amazed, not least because, a few minutes ago, he wouldn't have even thought about getting into the water. He must really like her a lot to have done this.
She moved slowly against him as they embraced, every movement magnified by the rushing water around their entwined bodies. I have waited for this moment Those long nights when sleep wouldn't come, he would cosy up next to Maria's apparently sleeping form, would gaze at her for a while, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed. Often, such filthy thoughts as to take her sexually, crossed his mind but, despite the fact she was a prisoner, had worked for the enemy; in spite of all of this, he respected her.
Besides, she was a gorgeous woman; she should remain unspoilt. As he kissed her beautiful lips, she shuddered and sighed; he supposed this was a good sign, so he kept doing it. The Assassin was good at this. Such a wonderful kisser she had never known. She thought it was maybe because she had of late been in the company of Templars, forbidden from having any sort of contact with any woman. Perhaps she had never known the security of being in a real relationship, having been forced into a loveless marriage by her worried parents.
Is this really what love felt like? It was a beautiful, liberating feeling, to be in a romantic clinch with someone she had thought of, as well as being with, constantly. Now that he had admitted his affections, she felt freer than she ever had, even when she had absconded from the constraints of married life to pursue her own dreams of independence.
She smiled, in the middle of a kiss, at the irony of it all, how emancipated she felt as a prisoner. I don't think that's a good basis for some sort of romantic love! All of what Maria said was technically true, but it didn't stop him being in love with her. What's important is now, the time we have at this minute. Holding him, she made her gentle way back to the shore, the jetty, and the empty boat with their discarded clothing. Quickly, he pulled up his wet shorts to try and cool his ardour, and hid behind his robes.
He longed to have her again; would he get away with a cuddle that could lead to a little more once he was back in the guardhouse chamber that he shared with the sexy girl? Would she allow him an erotic fumble tonight, or was she worn out with her evasive swimming? He watched her slip her tunic back on; it was a shame to see those pretty little breasts covered up. Perhaps, if he was patient, she may reveal them to him again tonight.
He tried not to think about it; the dirty thoughts flashing through his mind were making him feel quite uncomfortable. He would have to wait until later, when Maria could claw at whatever the hell she wanted of his! He felt her fingers stroking his arm. She was turning him on so much; could he wait until he got back to the guardhouse? Although his desperation was well concealed behind his uniform, he knew it was there, causing him discomfort, and he needed to do something about it.
He began to run towards a haystack, still clinging to Maria's arm.
An Alluring Distraction, an assassin's creed fanfic | FanFiction
She had no choice but to tag along behind him. Altair was a stubborn man with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and the Apple had clearly latched on to that. She had attempted to reason with him, entice him, and eventually threaten him, and none had done much more than start an argument that he seemed barely even aware was happening.
It actually frightened her a bit, how little he seemed to notice the world around him. But giving up was not in her nature, especially when it came to the man she loved. Perhaps it's time we use these troublesome traits to our advantage. His brain would often point out that he had duties to attend to in the castle, novices to train, papers to sign, and so much more.
His body would call for his soft bed, or to escape the stuffy sanctuary to run along the rooftops and climb the high towers, to stretch his muscles and fill his lungs with fresh air. And his heart cried out for Maria, to feel her lie beside him, to hear her lovely voice whisper his name, to take her in his arms and bask in her warmth and strength.
But then the Apple would show him more visions, whispering of knowledge he had not even touched yet, and he would be once again under its spell. Standing up, he stretched, moaning in relief as he felt his back pop.
Glancing about his study, he blinked, realizing how dark it had gotten, the last rays of the sun only barely peeking through the window. Where had the time gone? He recalled someone bringing him a plate of food, which he had clearly eaten, if the crumbs on his desk were any indication, but for the life of him he couldn't say when it was or who had brought it.
It couldn't have been too long ago, as he did not feel hungry, but the gaps in his memory were worrisome. Still, he had to smile. He had gotten much done on his codex, and the mysteries of the Apple were so enthralling. Noises were coming from outside, and enticed, Altair left his desk and peaked out the window.
There was a bonfire in the courtyard, and music blended with the enthusiastic shouts of the men. From his tower he could see people dancing, the women in brightly colored garments mingling with the whites, greys, and tans of the Assassins.
It appeared to be a celebration or some kind, though he hadn't a clue what for. You're the Mentor, his mind cried out, sounding disturbingly like Malik. How do you not know the comings and goings of your own castle? He frowned, realizing the unfortunate truth of that statement. And did Malik actually say that?
He vaguely recalled the rafiq in his office, but he couldn't remember if it was that morning or three days ago. You can't spend your whole life in this room, Maria's voice scolded, her accent tantalizing to his ears even when her words were harsh. Your men are liable to question whether you even exist! Just for a few minutes. Enough to make an appearance and show everyone that he was still alive.
Maybe he could steal a moment or two with his English lover, prove to her that she was not forgotten and show just how much he appreciated her.
He strode towards the door, but hesitated at the threshold as the Apple called from his desk. There was still so much to learn, so much to discover in its golden light. Its temptation pulled at him, and he took a half-step back, the call of knowledge coaxing him back. One day, Altair, Maria's voice whispered, and he could almost picture her forlorn face as she left his office, you may have to choose between that Apple and the people who love you.
Awareness fell over him like a bucket of ice water, and he fled the room, the image of his lover's despairing eyes breaking the relic's spell. He could finally recall her standing before him, begging him to take a break, then demanding, but he had ignored her, too deeply under the Apple's thrall. Time was a blur, but the further he got from his office, the clearer his mind became. Malik and Maria had been right; the Apple was dangerous, and he needed a break.
They did not begrudge him his research, but the longer he stayed in his study, pouring over the damn thing, wearing himself out and isolating himself from the outside world, the easier it would be for it to poison his mind. A small smile touched his lips as he came to a large window overlooking the festivities. The beat of the drums echoed throughout the courtyard, giving the hot night a harmonious and dizzying pulse. He could see the people much more clearly, the men cheering and singing as the women danced in their colorful veils.
Emerald green caught his eye, and he did a double-take, not quite certain he wasn't still under the Apple's spell. Maria was dancing with the women, her shapely body swaying side to side, hips matching the frantic rhythm of the drums.
The bonfire cast an ethereal glow behind her, making her look like a goddess. And the garments she wore were ones he had burned into his memory, as he had been sure he would never see them again save for his wildest dreams.
She was in her courtesan robes, the same ones she had worn years ago to infiltrate a Templar stronghold. Designed to seduce, the shimmering green fabric hugged her full chest and displayed her cleavage in ways her normal utilitarian tunics never could, the heavy gold necklace that rested over her collarbone and dangled between her pale breasts serving more to entice his gaze than guard against it. The drums beat faster, and his eyes were drawn to her hips rocking to the tempo, the skirts parting to reveal a long, shapely leg.
Her head wasn't covered, her loose hair rolling down her back like a waterfall, the shawl instead twirling around her in time to the music. He had the urge to leap down and bury his fingers in those soft waves like he had so many times before. Altair swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He had no idea Maria had kept that outfit. If he had known, he would have demanded she wear it more often.
Nobody demanded Maria Thorpe do anything if they wanted to keep their tongue. It looked absolutely stunning on her, and while should could arouse him wearing combat gear, to see her dressed so feminine, draped in silk and dancing so seductively… Well, it sent the blood surging right down to his groin. The song stopped, and he released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding as Maria finally ceased her enthralling movements.
Yes, joining the festivities was suddenly looking like a very good idea.