Roots ch. 14

Kostantiniyye
1499

"One more! Değil – no, two more. Possibly three." Bajram grinned, pushing the filled cup across the slick wooden counter hard enough to make its contents slosh from side to side. Yusuf took one sniff and pushed himself back away from the bar, wrinkling his nose in utter distaste.

"Baj! That's disgusting!" Bajram burst into laughter, echoed by Seref. "Besides, I don't trust that stuff. I'm fairly certain it's responsible for Seref's sickness."

Bajram unceremoniously shoved Yusuf's stool back into place, much to the other Assassin's protest. "Adam ol. You're turning thirty-one; you can't shy away from it forever."

"Like hell I can't!" Yusuf exclaimed, bracing his palms against the edge of the counter. But Bajram kept his stool legs planted firmly in place.

"Just try it." Seref encouraged, all the while leaning back and dramatically pinching her nostrils shut. Yusuf glowered at her, but obediently picked up the cup.

"Piç. If I keel over, I'm blaming you." Yusuf threatened his friend, before throwing his head back and quickly downing the cup's potent contents. He erupted into a coughing fit, setting the cup down so hard it almost cracked. The tavern owner scowled and took the cup, setting it down a safe distance away. Bajram rested his folded elbows on the counter before pushing the second mug over toward the still-wheezing Assassin. He interrupted Yusuf's startled protests.

"Dinlen! It's not so strong. I promise." He picked up the cup, waving it in front of Yusuf's face. Yusuf furrowed his brow and snatched the cup before Bajram could decide to spill it all over him. He cautiously sniffed the cup's contents before arching a single brow at his friend.

"…you're sure?"

Bajram jostled his elbow impatiently. "Just drink it!"

Seref watched Yusuf down the new cup, than set it back on the counter with a silly grin on his face. She laughed, pleased that she was able to see Yusuf so happy. Since Ishak's death, Yusuf had been working himself to death with keeping the Order together, keeping their allies sated and working on recruiting new members to the cause. Far too often he found himself collapsing onto his cot in the early hours of the morning, unable to remember precisely how he'd gotten there. Utter exhaustion was entirely normal. Which was why Bajram had fought him so hard when it came to taking him out for the night. Yusuf had been determined to stay at the Galata headquarters, but Seref was quick to assure him that the newly minted Master Jin Mai was perfectly capable of seeing to the protection of the Order for one night. Besides, he had Casimiro, Nasim and Shahin at his side, all of whom had really come into their own the last several years. Yusuf planned to promote each of them to Masters within the next three to four. They would be entirely ready, by then. But that particular night, Bajram had assured Yusuf that everything was one-hundred percent taken care of. And Baj's word was more than good enough for Yusuf.

"Let me get that for you." Seref gave him her well-practiced motherly smile and reached over, wiping off with her thumb the small dab of ale that had somehow found its way to Yusuf's jaw. She ignored his whine of protest and Bajram's amused howl of laughter.

"Unless, of course, you're planning on saving it for later."

"Speaking of later…" Bajram twisted around in his seat, eyes flickering around the room. Yusuf groaned out loud when Bajram waved his hand excitedly in the air.

"Ey, Baj, no…you didn't!..."

"Like I wouldn't." Bajram scoffed indignantly, as a stunningly beautiful red-headed Romani woman approached them, swinging her hips with purpose. Bajram stood, proudly raising his own cup with the most solemnly dignified expression he could muster.

"Yusuf – it would be my pleasure to introduce to you, the ever-striking, Aara."

Yusuf tried desperately to hide his reddened face, but Seref tugged his arms down, keeping them plastered to his sides. Bajram gifted the relatively scantily-dressed woman with an elegant kiss on the back of her hand. She traded winks with him before making herself comfortable on Yusuf's lap, hitching up her long skirts and straddling his hips.

"Mmm…Yusuf..." She murmured, running her silky hands through his thick black hair. "God increases his power; his influence. Not an uncommon name…but that of a man in control of his own fate." She smiled at his red cheeks and cupped his chin.

"Baj- sevgili. I think we are in need of another drink." She took the cup from him, raising it to the lips of her somewhat compliant captive. He shrugged out of Seref's grasp, took the cup and downed it obediently, feeling the steady burn of the alcohol all the way down his throat and into his stomach. Aara liberated the cup from him, setting it down on the counter behind her.

"That is a good boy. Now, about this party... I hear it is for your birthday." Her full lips formed into an exaggerated pout. "And here I am, without a proper present."

Yusuf felt his skin growing hot – whether it was from the abundance of ale and wine or the beautiful woman pressed against him, Yusuf couldn't be certain. What he was certain of was that if Baj was going willing to go through the trouble of finding his entertainment and purchasing his drinks all night, then by Allah, Yusuf was going to damn well enjoy himself. He rested his hands on the slightly younger woman's narrow hips, liking the feel of her mostly bare midriff under his fingers. He cleared his throat and regarded the Romani with a mixture of thrilled anticipation and mock solemnity.

"That wounds me deeply, hanımefendi. Perhaps I will be forced to accept something of an improper present, then."

"You are so forgiving." She brushed his hair back from his face, before tilting his chin up and planting those fantastically full lips of hers against his. Seref burst into laughter as Bajram seemed to swell with pride. The kiss grew deeper and lasted long enough that Yusuf began to worry he'd lose consciousness, when Aara herself came up for air, looking rightly pleased.

"Bajram told me you were a handsome man. I had no idea you were so talented, as well..."

"I imagine he wouldn't know." Yusuf replied, shooting Bajram a suggestive look, causing the other Assassin to snort. "But my lady, I am a Bursan, and by custom we are a passionate and bold people."

"Our mutual friend did not mention that, either." She grinned coyly, lightly kissing his jaw and throat. Out of the corner of his eye, Yusuf spotted Bajram trying to talk Seref into trying the same potent ale he had given into tasting, and her adamently refusing. The heat of  his skin and the steady throbbing in his head was getting to him, causing the voices in the small tavern to all blend together, creating a dazzling cacophony. The intoxicated Assassin wrapped his arms around the slim waist of the Romani dancer, letting his hands rest on her perfectly postered rear end. She didn't seem to mind in the least bit. Her breath mingled with his as she wished him a very merry birthday, indeed.

The three revelers (four, including the enthusiastic Aara, for whom Bajram had also purchased an impressive amount of drinks for) did not leave the tavern until the earliest hours of the morning. How Seref, the most stable-minded one of the group (which was to say, she was able to walk without falling flat on her face), had managed to get them all safely back to the den, Yusuf hadn't the faintest clue. Perhaps just another hidden talant she had – herding drunkards around like retarded cattle. Yusuf vaguely remembered jumping on Bajram's back and yelling for a race, a feat that resulted in the two of them in the dirt, rolling on their sides, laughing themselves hoarse. Although Yusuf was thinking of denying that one when it would inevitably come up during dinner the next night.

Regardless, the Assassins and their latest Romani acquantance did make it back home unhidered. Aara trailed her fingers along Bajram's shoulders before making her way into one of the studies. Bajram grinned, wished Yusuf a slurred Mutlu Yıllar, and just as quickly disappeared after her.

Yusuf leaned into Seref, feeling a pleasurable haze settle over him like a particularly heavy fog. Seref hid her grin and maneuvered the leader of the Assassins over to the stairs leading up to the sleeping quarters. Yusuf balked at the stairs, but with Seref's (mostly) steady guidence, they reached the top landing in only a few minutes. Yusuf groaned happily, stumbling into his modest private chamber.

"You, Seref...you v'ry pretty...tonight." He produced, bracing his hands against the wall. Seref laughed, her own eyes shining. Yusuf thought her hair looked especially firey in the subtle candlelight. He pressed his lips together, reaching one one hand to ever so lightly touch it. Seref wet her lips, biting her tongue.

"Yusuf, I wish...I mean...I want..." She stopped, at a loss as to how to properly formulate her thoughts. Yusuf knew how she felt about it – she had never been exactly subtle in her feelings toward him. But always had he retreated back, unwilling to get himself involved with another Assassin. Seref, while frustrated, had done her best to understand and respect his wishes. But now he was touching her, seemingly facinated by the thin wisps of hair that floated free from her otherwise bound auburn locks. They two locked eyes. Yusuf, shockingly enough, was the first to act on what they had both been imagining – he grabbed Seref by the waist, tugging her close and kissing her deeply. Her eyebrows flew up, but she quickly let herself melt back against him, pushing at him until he backed into the edge of the chamber's large writing desk. Her fingers entwined with his before she brought her hands up to his chest, pushing him firmly back.

What kind of gentleman would Yusuf be if he didn't comply with such demands? He sat up on the edge of the desk, scooting back to make room for Seref, who comfortably straddled his hips. She whimpered lightly against his mouth, wrapping both arms around his neck. He gave a muffled whine in return, reaching up to touch that amazingly fiery hair. In the dim light, it appeared like she wore a halo atop her hair. Yusuf was mesmorized.

"I, er, nev'r tell you..." He stumbled crumsily over his words. "You 're...so beau-ful."

Seref grinned wordlessly, tilting her head down to plant light kisses against the base of his throat. Yusuf tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't realize his was being pushed further back until his spine pressed down into the top of the desk. Seref beamed down at him, her skin slick and shiny. Her nervousness, her conflicted feelings – all of it was gone. All she had remaining was a raw urge. Staring hungrily down at the Assassin beneath her, she knew – without even needing to ask – that he wanted the exact same thing.

"Bed. Yours." She managed the say, quickly climbing off him. She landed roughly on her feet, grabbing his arm. He rolled off the side, quickly taking a spill after landing. The two burst into identical fits of laughter, to the point where Seref was hanging off of him. She eventually calmed down enough to drag him over to his cot, effectively shutting him up with another deepend kiss. He responded in kind, hands gripping her upper arms, feeling the firm press of her palms against his chest before she took a tight grip on his tunic. He dipped her onto his modestly-sized cot, mumbling incoherently against her mouth.

"I think...uhh, I mean...I know..."

"Kes sesini." Seref scolded him, wrapping her fingers in his hair, eliciting a quick gasp. "Just...show me...how you feel. Right now." She brought his head down close for another kiss. Yusuf heeded her need, giving in to his own primal desire. They did not leave his bedchamber all night.

**

His head pounded, and for a moment the urge to vomit seized him. But it quickly passed, and Yusuf let out a low groan and creaked open a single eyelid.

It was bright enough to make him flinch. But he could tell he was in his bedroom. He lay on his stomach, sprawled across his cot. He remembered...flashes. Bajram pushing a sloshing drink across the alcohol-slicked counter. A beautiful woman settling herself into his lap before leaving teasing kisses across his lips. Seref...pushing him back against the writing desk, fingers splayed against his chest. Most everything else was a blur.

Yusuf groaned, trying to roll over. A weight prevented him from doing so. He craned his neck around, finding that Seref lay snuggly against his side, her arm thrown around his bare torso. Oh yeah. He remembered that part now, too.

Yusuf changed tactics, sliding out of bed along his stomach. He tipped over the edge, lost his balance and landed in a rather ungraceful heap on the floor. Ah, so there were his clothes. He dressed as quickly as possible before making his way out from his bedchamber. Continuous pain shot through his head, making him clench his teeth. The corridors were so fucking bright… He clasped his hand over his stricken eyes, using mostly memorization to get to Bajram's chamber. But upon pushing open the door, he found only the exotic Persian Romani woman from the night before. Ari…Aurora…something like that. She lay asleep in Baj's cot, sheets tugged tight around her lithe frame. Yusuf grit his teeth in pain, pressing on his eyeballs. He himself could barely manage to get out of bed and make it the twenty steps to Bajram's room – where in the hell could he have gone? Yusuf couldn't be certain, but he vaguely remembered Bajram throwing back a fair number of drinks, himself.

Yusuf left his friend's bedchamber, making his way back down the corridor by running his palm along the wall. Halfway back to his room he gave up, sliding down the wall with a heavy groan and landing on his butt. Yusuf dipped his head forward into his hands, doing his best to block out any and all sources of light. But sight is not the only sense to cause pain to the heavily hung over – the Assassin flinched when he heard a door slam and booted footsteps running toward him.

"Master Yusuf! What on earth? – "

"It is alright." He managed through grit teeth, trying his best to ignore the agonized pounding in his skull. "Where…where is Bajram?..."

"He asked me to tell you. I am sorry, but I did not want to wake – "

"What did he say?" Yusuf growled. The young apprentice looked startled, but then dropped her gaze.

"Early this morning he received word from Acre. His mother has taken ill. They…don't think there is much they can do for her. Bajram left as soon as he heard."

Yusuf slowly lifted his head, shielding his eyes from the painfully bright light. A heavy pit settled in his stomach.

"Bajram has gone to Acre?"

"Evet, efendim."

Yusuf rubbed at his eyes until he saw spots. By Allah, he wished he could simply will the damn pain away. He finally dropped his hands and rested his head back against the wall, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He heard the nervous apprentice shifted warily from foot to foot.

"Then he will be away for at least a month. Maybe two. Allah willing, his mother will make it through this."

"Evet, Master."





**

adam ol – man up
piç – bastard
dinlenmek – relax
hanımefendi – my lady
mutlu yıllar – happy birthday
kes sesini – shut up
efendim – sir
evet - yes