Assassin's Creed: Firewall

Burn it Down

Altair continued to address his men without glancing her way. A motion of his arm had Robin gently nudging her back towards the door and the confines of the castle. An escape Emma gladly took, given that it took her away from so many stares. Only the assassins playing guard then led her straight to her room and made clear that, once again, she would not be allowed to leave it.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, she stepped through the threshold and snapped it shut behind her without bothering with the lock. It wasn't as if anyone could or would come in.

She paced for lack of anything better to do and unable to sit still. It'd been a long day, her body needed rest but her mind couldn't bear the thought. Jamal was alive. He was alive and imprisoned and Altair hadn't bothered to tell her. Hadn't bothered to correct her when she assumed he was dead after seeing blood on his robes.

But he was alive.

Alive and somewhere in the castle.

She wanted to see him. Talk to him. Demand answers.

Answers that she knew wouldn't change anything, answers that wouldn't erase what happened..

She knew it would bring no satisfaction, no closure, but still, she needed them. Not that she could get them in here, nor could she go get them on her own.

So she was left to pace until dusk gave way to darkness. Moonlight lit the room well enough to see by, so she didn't bother with a fire. Not that she could sit still enough to strike one up. Now that Altair had presented her to the Brotherhood, would he continue ignoring her? Keep the armed guard on her at all times? Would anything change or would she stay a prisoner with nowhere to escape to?

A short rap against the wood brought her to a halt. Who would come visiting at this hour? Who would be allowed to visit?

Maybe it was Malik, he seemed the most likely.

Did she want company right now? Like everything else, it wasn't clear to her own mind. Screw it. Might as well see what he had to say.

None of the torches in the hall had been lit, the hooded figure invisible in the shadows, but clear he was wearing a dark robe. Standing aside, she let Malik in, a little surprised when he stepped through that he'd be so willing to be alone with her in the room. Reputations and all. But then again, who would tell? It wasn't as if the two assassins who played guard were much for gossiping.

The moment the door shut, he dropped his hood and shrugged out of the black robe, revealing not the one-armed Dai, but Altair.

Emma felt a lot of words bubbling just under the surface, a lot of things that deserved to be said. But she couldn't find the will to open her mouth. Instead she stood in silence, watching him closely as he dropped the robe over the chair and busied himself in building an unneeded fire. The air felt thick and clouded, heavy with words unspoken and yet defying attempts to break the silence.

As the flames built, becoming a fire too merry for the tension, Altair stood, breaking his gaze from it to lay a hand on the discarded robes.

"It feels foreign to wear, as if it does not belong to me, and weighs heavier than I could have imagined. To don it is to make enemies." Emma wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself, but for once she stayed silent, watching him with a wary eye as he finally looked at her. Without the Master's robes and the hood to hide behind, he looked uncertain, almost vulnerable.

It wasn't a notion that equated with the assassin, so Emma chalked it up to a trick of the firelight.

"I do not wish to be at odds with you."