Assassins Creed : One Shots

A Father's Son~ Malik and Tazim

"I'm proud of you, my boy."

Those were the words Tazim would never tire of. He'd be blessed if he ever did get to hear them.

The young man lost his father when he was but a child. Tazim hardly remembered him but the memories that remained would be cherished.

He found himself wandering in his room, sitting at his desk and reading through a book. The young man seemed to be busy. Too busy.

"Tazim.", he heard from his door.

Looking away from his book, the young man turned in his chair. He saw his father by the door.

It couldn't be.

But it was. Malik stood, a tired and calm face yet he held his chin up with pride. His dark hair with scattered gray and white strands. The man's eyes were alert but held a warmth in them like fire.

"Father.", he said in a mere whisper.

Malik nodded his head towards his sons book. "If you are busy, I'm sure this can wait."

The younger man shook his head. He shot straight up and closed his book.

"No.", he said, "I'm never to busy for my family."

Tazim walked over to his father. He took long strides as his robes swayed with him.

He stopped once he was right in front of his father.

Malik gave him a strange look as he held up a brow. Was his son going crazy?

Tazim felt his eyes grow watery but looked away and cleared his throat. The tears that tried to seep out eventually disappeared. He would not let his father see him cry.

He turned his head and looked to his father once more.

Malik was a just a half inch shorter than his boy. The other man also looked slightly taller because of his hair, he'd need to cut it, and soon.

"What do you need help with?", Tazim asked.

Malik scoffed. "Help? What makes you think I need help? You are the one who needs help.", his father told him.

Tazim sighed and chuckled, "Fine, what is it that you need?"

His father wouldn't want anyone's help anymore. He said that even in his old age, he was still capable of many things.

"I'd like to simply talk with my son today.", Malik said in such a quiet voice.

Was his father really whispering? Was Malik embarrassed of showing some true emotion? He must've been.

Tazim held back a chuckle and simply smiled.

They each went back into the young man's room. Malik sat on the bed while Tazim went back to his desk and sat in his chair, facing his father.

They each felt comfort with the silence between them but eventually Tazim was the one who spoke after thinking for a few moments.

"I always thought I'd go on assignments with you. When I was a child I always fantasized of the day I would stand by your side and fight.", Tazim admitted.

He held his father in high regard. Malik was a hero, a god even. As a boy, the young man craved for his father's presence.

All that had been cut short as Malik had been killed. Beheaded. Now was the time to change things, to admit his true feelings and show his father that he only wanted to make him proud.

Malik was alive now and this was the best time to fix things.

"You knew I was pulled from field work. I wouldn't have been able to fight alongside you.", Malik told him truthfully. He sighed before looking his son over, "You've grown into a fine man, Tazim."