Always is it a difficult thing, to leave the close proximity of Maria when he wishes instead to keep her close. there is a part of him that is still in awe of the fact that she is still alive, that the whispers of a captive prisoner turned out to be her. He is not unaware of the scar on her neck, where she once plunged the blade in attempt to take her own life; to succeed where Aguilar failed in upholding the word of the Creed. A decision he knows he would make again if it meant he could spare Maria’s life. (And yet, how cruel to spare her life while knowing she would only take it again.)
He helps her stand, a gentle grip at her elbow as she eases herself up. With time, she will regain her strength, he knows this, yet now he is all too happy to assist her where she needs it. She does not appear weak in his eyes. Quite the contrary. She has survived this long under the torturous hands of their enemies, held to life where many others would have succumbed. And though her body is frail now, her will remains strong. She is the most admirable woman he has ever met, and he is proud to assist her.
“You look as convincing as you need to,” he says, helps adjust the collar slightly, if for no other reason than to be near. To rest fingertips against her collarbones. “We shall be safe soon, mi corazon. I am taking you someplace safe. As close to home as we can get.” He has found scattered artifacts from their nomadic brothers and sisters, carried them to the Assassin hideout. Where they were all once initiated into the Brotherhood. Various trinkets, small baubles, things that each assassin held dear for some reason, Aguilar has taken back with him.
Including the spare set of Maria’s robes. Her lesser worn robes, the colors still vibrant from lack of use, but he thinks she will be pleased for them all the same. A sense of familiarity and comfort in a way Aguilar can not. “Come, Maria. We must make haste. Night falls and we must get beyond these city boundaries before morning.”
she SUCKS in a slow breath as she rises and a HAND moves to cover his own. how their places have SWITCHED now. it does not seem all that long ago he was the bruised one, exhausted after sparring sessions and ACHING as his muscles grew accustomed to what was asked of an ASSASSIN. there is none she would rather be with NOW, however, would burn this bloody world to the GROUND to have him at her side.Â
(a distant part of her thinks she would all the more gladly die for HIM than the creed, would not feel an ounce of remorse to sacrifice all she may for HIM.)
“convincing enough i could trick YOU?” maria murmurs softly, the corner of her mouth lilting upwards in a faint smile. soon, she tells herself, soon and they will be free of this place and of THAT place and she can run her fingers over his skin, memorize every scar she has MISSED. “you are my HOME,” maria offers gently and voice briefly WAVERS. she pulls herself into his embrace, knows it cannot last LONG, but adores the few moments she can. the pulse of his heart is familiar and fear. god, she has MISSED him.Â
“si, aguilar,” she nods and gathers the last of her strength. just a bit further, a bit MORE and she can rest without fear. this is the final obstacle to FREEDOM. maria helps him gather their belongings, squeezes his hand ONCE more before stepping outside. the cool air is SWEET yet again, enough to make her feel near delirious. she struggles to walk on her own, gnaws the inside of her lip RAW because to do so would draw attention they cannot bear. “SOON,” she whispers to him yet again and a FULL smile returns now. she supposes it must look ODD on her sharp features.Â
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