HOME | DD

Description
“Just sleep for now (y/n).” Altair whispered, covering both of your bodies with the soft blanket.

“But, I feel afraid.” You murmured.

“Why, when I am right here with you?” He questioned, placing a soft kiss on your neck as he snuggled closer to your side.

“Because my heart knows that by morning you shall be gone.” You whispered fearfully.

“(y/n)…” He began, using his arm to lean over you protectively. “…just because we are apart, that does not mean I am not with you, in my heart I never leave your side.” He said quietly, his golden eyes focused on his finger that was drawing circles on your left shoulder.

You smiled softly.

He leaned closer, giving you one last kiss, his lips lingering against your own before he pulled away to lie at you side once again, draping an arm over you.

**********

Your eyes snapped open from the dream to be greeted by the light of morning. You sensed another presence in the room, turning your head you saw Omar, he was just tightening a bolt on the door, humming to himself. It was only then you realised that you where wearing your prison clothing once again, and not chained to the wall. “Was it you who dressed me?” You asked bluntly.

The large man jumped slightly, turning to face you. “Aye.” He replied plainly, before turning back to his work.

You stayed silent in thought for a moment, taking in the sight of food, a small wooden cup of water and a meagre piece of stale bread sat at your feet. “Sometimes, you give the impression of a man that did not chose his ‘profession’.” You stated thoughtfully, reaching to sip the water, relishing the simplicity of moisture returning to your dry mouth, you nibbled the bread, trying to make the beggarly amount last.

He answered without turning to face you. “No, this is hardly what I wanted nor what my father taught me to do.” He admitted.

“What path did your father intend for you then?” You asked, trying to distract your mind from last night, refusing to remember it, forcing yourself to block away those memories.

“My father was a stable master, so about all I knew was horses, loved those magnificent animals too, but…things change.” He said. “In life, you will do things, things that don’t make you proud, and to escape those things…” He stopped his work and rubbed his face, turning to look at you. “...you do worse still.” He finished, getting from his knees to his feet.

You only nodded, thinking back to the conversation you had overheard not long ago, it was a saddening truth that men like Omar ended up in the service of vile curs such as Abaan Al-Bahri. Of course time here had hardened Omar, and perhaps one day he would not even have the shadow of his former self, however, you were thankful that for now, he did.

“I do not claim to understand you and your order, but I don’t see any right in what happened to your friend.” Omar said simply, his eyes turning down. “I am sorry.” He muttered, opening the door and leaving you alone once again.

You looked around the pitifully familiar cell, memorizing every stone aimlessly as you dreaded what this day might bring. Your stomach growled in desperation, but food seemed much like a distant memory to you now, even that little piece of bread seemed too far away in time. You spotted a young jerboa sneaking its way through a crack in the wall, you watched as the bazaar little creature hopped about, upon finding no food it swiftly wriggled through the crack and out of your sight once again.

It was nearing afternoon, the warmth that the midday sun left in the cell was uncomfortable, making you wish desperately for water. You heard your cell door open, after Omar tinkering on it this morning, the old thing no longer groaned. You found yourself shaking slightly, the fear of last night returning in the air as you saw Raul. He approached you with a grim face, bending to your side it suddenly broke into a smirk. “Ready for more?”

“Raul, stop playing with her, the master wants information.” Omar’s voice boomed in, he appeared in the doorway wearing a blood stained apron.

Raul sprung to his feet, his eyes flickering with anger. “Do not, tell me what to do.” He commanded at an unnervingly slow pace, dragging out each word.

“Look, we have to do our jobs, if Abaan finds out you are not-…”

“Stop.” Raul interrupted. “Do not tell me what Abaan wants, DO NOT TELL ME!” He ended bellowing in anger, his eyes popping slightly as he glared at Omar, who now stood silently. “Get this bitch up.” Raul snapped finally, striding out of the room.

Omar looked at you, binding your rubbed raw wrists in thick rope before he lead you back into the torture chamber, flashing memories of your last time here flicked through your head like a thousand invasive images. You began to feel your heart pound as you were lead to the rack, as you tried to steady your breathing. Omar turned to his tray of assortments that you tried not to look at.

“Well start you fool.” The greasy voice of Tariq came from the shadows, from where he emerged, his dark clothes fitting to him like the blackness of night. He stood at Raul’s side, folding his arms and studying you with a scrutinizing gaze.

Omar gave a nod, a frown knitting his thick brows together. “As you wish, sir.” He muttered through gritted teeth. Taking up a cruel looking instrument that you truly did not want to know the purpose of, as fate had it, you would probably be finding out.

Description
“Just sleep for now (y/n).” Altair whispered, covering both of your bodies with the soft blanket.

“But, I feel afraid.” You murmured.

“Why, when I am right here with you?” He questioned, placing a soft kiss on your neck as he snuggled closer to your side.

“Because my heart knows that by morning you shall be gone.” You whispered fearfully.

“(y/n)…” He began, using his arm to lean over you protectively. “…just because we are apart, that does not mean I am not with you, in my heart I never leave your side.” He said quietly, his golden eyes focused on his finger that was drawing circles on your left shoulder.

You smiled softly.

He leaned closer, giving you one last kiss, his lips lingering against your own before he pulled away to lie at you side once again, draping an arm over you.

**********

Your eyes snapped open from the dream to be greeted by the light of morning. You sensed another presence in the room, turning your head you saw Omar, he was just tightening a bolt on the door, humming to himself. It was only then you realised that you where wearing your prison clothing once again, and not chained to the wall. “Was it you who dressed me?” You asked bluntly.

The large man jumped slightly, turning to face you. “Aye.” He replied plainly, before turning back to his work.

You stayed silent in thought for a moment, taking in the sight of food, a small wooden cup of water and a meagre piece of stale bread sat at your feet. “Sometimes, you give the impression of a man that did not chose his ‘profession’.” You stated thoughtfully, reaching to sip the water, relishing the simplicity of moisture returning to your dry mouth, you nibbled the bread, trying to make the beggarly amount last.

He answered without turning to face you. “No, this is hardly what I wanted nor what my father taught me to do.” He admitted.

“What path did your father intend for you then?” You asked, trying to distract your mind from last night, refusing to remember it, forcing yourself to block away those memories.

“My father was a stable master, so about all I knew was horses, loved those magnificent animals too, but…things change.” He said. “In life, you will do things, things that don’t make you proud, and to escape those things…” He stopped his work and rubbed his face, turning to look at you. “...you do worse still.” He finished, getting from his knees to his feet.

You only nodded, thinking back to the conversation you had overheard not long ago, it was a saddening truth that men like Omar ended up in the service of vile curs such as Abaan Al-Bahri. Of course time here had hardened Omar, and perhaps one day he would not even have the shadow of his former self, however, you were thankful that for now, he did.

“I do not claim to understand you and your order, but I don’t see any right in what happened to your friend.” Omar said simply, his eyes turning down. “I am sorry.” He muttered, opening the door and leaving you alone once again.

You looked around the pitifully familiar cell, memorizing every stone aimlessly as you dreaded what this day might bring. Your stomach growled in desperation, but food seemed much like a distant memory to you now, even that little piece of bread seemed too far away in time. You spotted a young jerboa sneaking its way through a crack in the wall, you watched as the bazaar little creature hopped about, upon finding no food it swiftly wriggled through the crack and out of your sight once again.

It was nearing afternoon, the warmth that the midday sun left in the cell was uncomfortable, making you wish desperately for water. You heard your cell door open, after Omar tinkering on it this morning, the old thing no longer groaned. You found yourself shaking slightly, the fear of last night returning in the air as you saw Raul. He approached you with a grim face, bending to your side it suddenly broke into a smirk. “Ready for more?”

“Raul, stop playing with her, the master wants information.” Omar’s voice boomed in, he appeared in the doorway wearing a blood stained apron.

Raul sprung to his feet, his eyes flickering with anger. “Do not, tell me what to do.” He commanded at an unnervingly slow pace, dragging out each word.

“Look, we have to do our jobs, if Abaan finds out you are not-…”

“Stop.” Raul interrupted. “Do not tell me what Abaan wants, DO NOT TELL ME!” He ended bellowing in anger, his eyes popping slightly as he glared at Omar, who now stood silently. “Get this bitch up.” Raul snapped finally, striding out of the room.

Omar looked at you, binding your rubbed raw wrists in thick rope before he lead you back into the torture chamber, flashing memories of your last time here flicked through your head like a thousand invasive images. You began to feel your heart pound as you were lead to the rack, as you tried to steady your breathing. Omar turned to his tray of assortments that you tried not to look at.

“Well start you fool.” The greasy voice of Tariq came from the shadows, from where he emerged, his dark clothes fitting to him like the blackness of night. He stood at Raul’s side, folding his arms and studying you with a scrutinizing gaze.

Omar gave a nod, a frown knitting his thick brows together. “As you wish, sir.” He muttered through gritted teeth. Taking up a cruel looking instrument that you truly did not want to know the purpose of, as fate had it, you would probably be finding out.