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Dahi had said that he was better than Sef at climbing trees and that he could climb higher and faster than him anyway, so there. Sef had said he was lying, and anyway he was only seven and one half and not seven and three quarters like Sef so of course Dahi couldn't be better than him, that was stupid.

And then Hasan had said they should climb that big tree by the road and see who could climb the highest.

The three of them had gone along quite happily, Sef full of bravado and certain that he could make it to the top without fail and what was more, he was going to make it to the top faster than Dahi could. Hasan had picked up two sticks and whoever picked the longest went first- Sef's was only a stubby one so he had to sit pouting as Dahi got to go first. He made it up as far as the first big branch before he laughed and said that Sef couldn't go higher, and of course Sef knew that he could.

And he did.

But now he was stuck.

"Sef it's not funny anymore," Hasan wailed. "My mother will scold me if I'm late!"

"Go home then!" Sef called back, trying to sound like he wasn't scared as he clung to the branch like a cat.

"Come down, stupid!" Dahi shouted. "We're hungry, you've been up there for hours!"

It had of course only been twenty minutes, but when it came down to the serious matter of trees and being stuck in them, trivial matters like time tended to pale into insignificance.

"I bet I could stay up here all day if I wanted," Sef boasted, trying to make it sound like he really did want to and he wasn't scared half to death up the tree. "Watch me, I bet I can!"

Only Darim would probably pinch him and tell him he'd been reckless and silly and an Assassin shouldn't let something like pride get in the way of asking for help, and Mama would tell him he'd acted like an ass and would probably tell Master Rauf that he was still a baby after all and he couldn't possibly start training yet.

He didn't want to think what Uncle Malik would have to say. Probably that he was a reckless novice and his father would be ashamed.

Sef could feel his eyes getting hot and he sniffed; it wasn't worth wiping his eyes because then he'd have to take his hand away and he knew that if he did that he would fall and probably die and then it wouldn't matter what anybody thought and he'd never be an Assassin.

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She rewarded his attention with a smile and a squeeze of his fingers before they found themselves in a familiar wing of the castle, and the door barely had time to rattle closed upon its hinges before Maria had thrown herself at her husband and held him close, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and almost shaking with longing.

"You," she breathed against his throat, "are never, never to be gone so long again or I swear it Altaïr there is no argument you could conceive or make that will keep me from journeying with you."

Altaïr more than welcomed her into his arms, drawing her so close against him that there was not a breath between them. One hand went to her hair, pulling the tie from the braid's end and threading his fingers through it just as he had held her hand.

"There will be no need," he murmured against her head. "I have no intention of leaving home at any length for quite some time."

"I wouldn't let you."

There was more to discuss, she could tell from the way he seemed weary from more than travel, but right now, in his arms, she couldn't bring herself to focus on that. His fingers in her hair were soothing and intoxicating and made her crave more of his touch. She had gone for far, far too long without it.

She turned her head and pressed her lips to his throat, heedless of the dirt and grime on his skin or just simply not caring about it.

"I need you."

Altaïr knew that most of his men had not gone all this time without the touch of a woman, but there was only one woman he wanted close, and she'd been far away. But not now.

Rather than answer her verbally, he moved one hand from her waist to her chin, tilting it up so he could kiss her fiercely, as all tiredness fell away.

Maria's answering kiss was no less fierce, no less wanting. For nine long months she had retired at night to an empty bed (although her boys had a sixth sense for knowing when she needed company the most and would often sneak into the room uninvited to cuddle up to their mother in the night), but at this moment she didn't even want to make it to the bed. With no finesse or reserve, she groped blindly for the fastenings on his trousers, desperate to touch him, to feel him, to have him inside her again where he belonged.

Edited 2014-06-04 12:34 (UTC)

Altaïr panted against his wife's neck, more winded by his efforts than he should be, yet feeling no shame. It was as if he'd saved up all his energy for this reunion, and now his strength was gone, along with all the bones in his body, it seemed.

"I missed this," he said, pulling away to prop himself up on one elbow. "And you."

They had scarcely had time to remove their clothing before desire had overwhelmed them both, and Maria had no mind to care for all of the fulfillment she had gleaned from their encounter. Her husband was home, in her arms and she was satisfied. It had been nine months since she had been able to claim such a thing. Idly, she brushed her fingers through his hair- longer than he habitually kept it- and then kissed his temple.

"What, you chose not to preoccupy yourself with some pretty young Turk? I am flattered." Her tone was mocking, but she kissed him again and could not stop touching him. "I love you."

"Hardly." He chuckled and leaned into her touch. "Ana behibek, habeebti."

He let out a content sigh, then moved just far enough to resettle himself. "You look well, Maria, but how have things been in my absence? How are the boys?"

"They've missed you, as we all have. Darim has taken his responsibilities very seriously since you've been away, it will be good for him to remember to be a boy again. Sef has been much too adventurous for his own good, do you not see all the new grey hairs he's given me?"

She found herself gravitating towards him; it was too soon for him to be any sort of distance from her as far as she was concerned.

"They've grown, I have been marking their height on the doorpost." Idly, she reached out to brush her fingers over her husband's cheek. "You've lost weight."

It was heartening to hear that about his sons, though he'd had every faith in them from the start; Darim was more than capable of being responsible, and Sef...well, he'd demonstrated his adventurous spirit earlier. But not was not the time to bring that up with Maria.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and sighed. "It was a hard ride home, and a long one. We had had to make more than one detour."

"There is something you must know, habeebi."

Maria's eyes fell to Altaïr's collarbone as her fingers splayed over his chest.

"While you were gone... there was a terrible accident. The goats got free somehow, something upset them dreadfully. We sent men to stop them but Abbas... Abbas was killed."

She looked up at him with a deadpan expression.

"It was very sad," she said flatly. "Those poor goats. They have not been the same since."

"Well then, I hope Malik will not begrudge you a few days' respite to recover from your journey before you return to active service. You will make yourself ill if you do not recover."

She could not stop touching him, almost as though she were afraid that this was not real and she had to continue to reassure herself that he was not a phantom her longing had conjured.

"You seem subdued. Is it only the tiredness?"

Altaïr welcomed each touch; for all that he seemed half-far away, caught up in remembering the journey he'd just finished, the other half of him could only fixate on her hand, her face, the feel of her next to him. He'd missed his family all along, but it only came into sharp relief how much he'd missed them once he didn't have to anymore.

"We failed, Maria," he said. "At first, I thought things would go well—but then the Crusaders arrived in the spring. They sacked the city, and we had to flee."

She was very quiet for a moment, well aware of what this failure meant to him. All his efforts, all his careful planning for the expedition, his hopes for the Brotherhood in Constantinople, all dashed. She could see it now in his eyes just how heavily the loss weighed upon him.

"Oh my love," she murmured, then drew him into her arms again so that she could hold him. "There will be other chances, perhaps if we were to send men to help drive the Crusaders out..."

It was a vain hope and she knew it, but the news came as a shock and in truth she did not know what to say to console him.

"You weren't to know."

He went into her arms easily, breathing into the crook of her neck and perhaps relaxing for the first time.

"Whatever the fate of the city, it's long done by now," he said. "It was too long a trip back. And it's not our fight; we're not soldiers."

Any of his men who completed their training could be, of course. But it was not their way. Violence was one of their methods, but under his guidance, the Assassins would not seek to conquer the world, only guide it.

"I'm not the first man to fail in his goals." He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. "Disappointment is something I'll have to cope with."

"Not on your own." Maria dropped a kiss to the top of his head brushed her fingers along his arm. "You have Malik and you have me, we are here for you. Even the boys, though they will likely not understand."

She closed her arms around him and rested her cheek on his head.

"Habeebi, I have never known you to face a disappointment and not risen to overcome it. This setback shall be no different. What matters is that you and our men are home safe. Next time you enter Constantinople it will be with your sons and me by your side, and we shall lay the foundations you could not this time."

He was more grateful for them than she knew—or maybe she did, having lived through the yearning of separation herself.

"But not for a long time." He propped himself slightly up on one elbow so he could see her face. "As a leader, my priority has to be Masyaf. And as a man, I want to spend time with my family for a long while."

Maria rolled to adjust her position with Altaïr's so they could both be comfortable and, more importantly, remain as close to each other as she craved.

"As a woman, I have no intention of allowing you to be away from me for that long ever again. I meant what I said earlier Altaïr. I cannot spend another night without you."

She suddenly found herself feeling rather vulnerable and dropped her eyes to his collarbone, but soon enough she dropped her shyness and met his eyes again.

"I felt as though I had lost air in my lungs without you here."

"You could breathe without me, Maryam."

He reached out to play with her hair, curling some of it loosely around his fingers before brushing her cheek with the back of his hand.

"But you won't have to anytime soon. I plan to be home for a long time."

"Good." Maria caught his hand with hers and turned to press her lips to his palm. "Because I do not plan to let you go."

She settled in against him, cushioning her head on his chest to listen to his heart beat beneath her ear. Idly, she brushed her fingertips along his arm.

"This bed does not feel the same without you in it."

"Are you suggesting that no young man filled up the empty space while I was gone?"

He fidgeted slightly, helping them both to get more comfortable. "I find that hard to believe."

"Are you suggesting I entertained others in your bed in your absence, husband? How faithless you must think your wife is."

She dropped a kiss to his shoulder, smiling against his skin.

"They were very attentive, if you must know."

He could only imagine the icy reception that grown men would get if they tried pressing their attentions upon her, but boys? That was another matter.

"I should hope so. We had a talk before I left, you know."

"Hmm, I thought as much."

It was true; Darim had been very much more protective of his mother with his father gone, often refusing to go and cause mischief with his brother in favour of shadowing her. Sef had been far more transparent in his affection, and on more than one occasion she had retired to her bedroom and found both boys curled up on Altaïr's side of the bed- normally Sef was fast asleep and Darim on the verge of it by the time she joined them.

"You had better be prepared to share with them tonight. I suspect they'll try their luck even though you're home."

"I think we can allow it, just this once."

They were no longer little boys, and so should sleep in their own beds. But tonight, the first day of his return, Altaïr wouldn't mind his family being in one place.

"But we should probably dress before then," he said, a smirk playing at his lips.

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