#ac hytham

[notdeadellis]

he's just a baby 🥺💖💓💖💕

#made with eivor customizer mod on nexus #Hytham #ac hytham #assassins creed valhalla #assassins creed #assassin's creed mirage #assassins creed mirage #assassin's creed #assassin's creed valhalla

[frenchoravocadotoast]

Hytham headcanons

Hytham (AC Valhalla) x GN!reader

Word count: 1078

A/N's note: I've been meaning to write about Hytham these past few weeks! Have some headcanons while I finish reading The Golden City :) (it got a bit angsty at the end)

Hytham’s love languages are gift giving and quality time. Hear me out.

He's pretty quiet (compared to the rowdy Vikings, at least), but true to his creed, he watches everything and everyone like a hawk. This applies to you too.

Hytham is willing to wait when he starts to grow interested in someone. He’d much rather approach them only once he feels like he’s gotten to know them both from the inside and the outside. I don’t see him seeking his crush out from the very beginning – he prefers bonding with them over time and seeing where things go.

Do not be fooled by his acting. Whether he’s cackling at a joke, dining at the longhouse or target practicing, Hytham is sure to be eavesdropping on your conversation. If you’re nearby, that is. This doesn’t mean that he’s spying on you specifically – he tends to strain his ears (like all Hidden Ones do, really), and sometimes, if he’s lucky, he might just hear your voice.

When he does, he smiles to himself.

You’re good friends with Eivor, and often accompany her on her errands around the village. This has led you to the bureau multiple times, and Hytham is always caught off guard by the unexpected visit.

“🧍🏾‍♂️Oh. Good evening.”

You like the place, it’s cozy and the man isn’t bad company either. So you stay, and even if there’s other parchments he needs to finish before sunset, Hytham perks up at the chance to answer any question you might have (grinning and kicking his feet when you show interest in the creed).

So that’s where you spend time together. Celebrations in Ravensthorpe are also guaranteed to lure him out of his cove – you’ll be sure to find him letting loose and coming out of his shell more. His favorite game is apple bobbing, and he’s determined to win everytime – but despite his competitive streak, he might pretend to lose if he’s going up against you.

As for gift giving, it doesn’t evolve into actual physical gifts until later on (he thinks that’d be way too obvious). Instead, his first ‘gifts’ are things you might need.

Whether you have experience in fighting/self-defense or not, Hytham hints at the training yard he and Basim use. He invites you to use it whenever you please (you can pummel the dummies for a bit, as long as you put them back in their place); and if you have no experience whatsoever, he’ll gladly teach you some things.

You don’t get to have your own hidden blade though. Sorry (ask Basim for one)

But you can try his! Just don’t die.

If you do somehow get injured, you can have the medicine he’s made. It’s all yours.

Interested in a particular topic? He probably has a book about it at the bureau (or he’ll find it somehow, don’t ask) and will gladly let you take it.

Teaches you how to do the leap of faith. If you pull his leg just like Eivor did and don’t leave the haystack, I think he’d have a similar reaction.

“Very funny. You can come out now.”

“We are so not doing this rn.”

“Please.”

“Please, Basim will kill me.”

Things start to shift when you see the signs. You crack a joke with your friends and notice Hytham’s already looking at you with a soft smile. You tell him your pouch is broken, and remember the beautiful purse you’d once seen at a market in Lunden. Days later, coincidentally, Eivor brings you a beautiful leather pouch from the same city (hint: it wasn’t Eivor’s idea). You also find him playing hide and seek with the Norse children outside, and he urges you to join.

You start testing out your theories. When spring comes, you comment on the beauty of the blooming flowers and he’s immediately crouched down, going through every plant in your vicinity to tell you everything he knows about them. By the end, you have a large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

Eivor sees this, and jokingly tells Hytham he should get some purple ones and smack you in the face with them (a courting tradition amongst Vikings). Needless to say he’s mortified.

Random secret: he knows how to make flower crowns – his mother taught him when he was younger.

He’s giving you instructions as you weave the stems together, and you can’t help but feel his eyes glancing repeatedly between your hands and face.

It’s not until Ravensthorpe is attacked that you’re forced to face your feelings. The ambush is bad – there is no escape as the docks are on fire, and arrows are whizzing past you no matter where you run. Whether you’re a villager, a sage, or a warrior doesn’t really matter. It’s the kind of attack where you’re certain your next stop is going to be Valhalla.

But then the clashing of swords stop. The last enemy falls to their knees, and through the smoke and the ringing in your ears, you hear the roaring victory of your people.

Sigurd and Basim are looting the bodies. Eivor is opening the longhouse where the villagers have barricaded themselves. But you don’t catch sight of Hytham, not until you see him emerge from the woods along with the other Drengr. His white robes are flapping in the wind, his sword dripping with blood, and he’s holding his side as he grimaces. So you run to him.

He sheathes his weapon when he sees you alive and well, eyes darting all over your face as if scanning for injuries; and before you can say anything, he cups your face and locks his lips with yours.

Congrats! You’re now dating.

Basim tells you and Eivor something enigmatic months before his sudden betrayal. Hytham’s happiness is clearly reason for his gratitude, and no matter how much you insist that Ravensthrope is Basim’s home too, you’re only rewarded with a wry smile from the assassin.

It’s months later, when you’re sitting in the empty bureau with Hytham, that you reason Basim must have known. You watch as Hytham grips the table and rakes his hands through his hair, how he paces the room when he’s not squeezing your hand. He questions everything when you realize Basim must have known all this time – must have known that he wasn’t going to stay, that his apprentice would be alright. That Hytham would be happy in Ravensthorpe. And thus, you make sure it stays that way.

#assassins creed #assassins creed valhalla headcanons #assassins creed valhalla #hytham #basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #ac hytham #ac valhalla #ac valhalla x reader #ac valhalla headcanons #hytham x reader #ac hytham x reader #female eivor #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsdóttir #sigurd #assassins creed headcanons #ac headcanons #assassins creed isu

[demigoddessqueens]

girl our baby boy hytham is lacking attention from ys . Can u right where he falls in love with Viking reader and they get married? I think he would be a good husband tbh

THANKS AND I LOVE UR WRITING 🤩✨🤍

Awwwe Hytham deserves some love too!!! 😍

Masterlist 10

First off, that’s Mr. Hytham “I like a woman who can kick my ass kill me”

Nah jk 🤣but really tho 🫣

Hytham will be looking at you with the biggest blown out eyes in admiration

Learned from the Master Basim himself

Your prowess, your build, the braids and tattoos!!

If this is Valhalla, he never wants to leave

Watching you spar or fight in the middle of battles is an art to him, and the blood on your face does nothing to hinder what he admires in your features

Looks for any excuse just to talk to you, even as you tell stories around the fires

Eivor notices his disposition every time you come around, nudging him with a tease every time he blushes around you

Admires your braids and tattoos and asks constant questions about them, watching your face light up as you describe them

Tries to go on walks with you if he can, of course under the guise of “gathering intelligence”

#inbox requests #assassin's creed #assassin’s creed x reader #hytham #ac valhalla #assassin’s creed valhalla #Hytham x reader #headcanons #my writing #writeblr #assassin’s creed #ac hytham

[ls-21187]

we have a ✨problem✨

#assassin's creed valhalla #assassins creed #assassin's creed #ac valhalla #assassins creed valhalla #ac meme #assassin's creed meme #eivor wolfkissed #eivor #ac hytham #hytham #vili hemmingson #randvi #basim #basim ibn ishaq #sigurd #sigurd styrbjornson #eivor varinsdóttir

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

saw your requests are open. If its not ignore this .

can u do AC Valhalla hytham x reader ? Maybe reader is evior sibling? And hytham is falling for them but is shy to confess . They fall in love and basim is like :

Amongst hidden ruins

I am so sorry for the long wait I was havig life and death situation with uni I didn't consider that would be there but I hope I can make it up to you by offering a 3 part slow burn?? Ya girl is trying I promise🙈🙉🙊

Pairing: Hytham x reader

Word count: ~16k

Genre: fluff, awkward fluff, idiots in love

Warnings: none, except if you count me not knowing what im doing???

Note: Shy Hytham is canon to me, let he be nervous and giddy with his crush🤌❤️. Also, Basim with his wolf dad energy 100% supports his adopted son like "i teach you how to be an assassin, now i teach you how to rizz, boy" and Eivor finally can live through what Sigurd needed to, aka being the older sibling and they will quickly find out why Siggy has eyebags lmfaoo

Being related to the leaders of the Raven Clan was not easy. Especially when it came to two battle-hardened brothers. From the dawn of your life, you had to have someone by your side to keep you from being "hurt." First came the cautionary orders of your father Styrbjörn, which you cannot remember unless it is from Tekla's evening stories. Taking in and raising a newborn baby with two troublemaker squirrels aged a lot on your fathers, even during the early winters of your lives. Then, as you were growing, Prince Sigurd's sense of duty began to surface, and who else could he begin directing, rebuking, and protecting than his youngest sibling. Most of your childhood thus consisted of tramping in your eldest brother's heels, holding his hand, and obeying when he forbade you something. And just when you thought your troubled years would cease to exist as you grew up, Eivor's pestration began.

"I'm just saying it doesn't hurt to call Randvi next time. More eyes see more, more blades cut more." Eivor continued as he dodged those who came across him, trying to catch up with you, who was trying to get rid of his brother with wide steps. You rolled your eyes grumbling as you picked up a bucket from the riverbank, heading towards the stables.

"Eivor, last time, I just went riding for an hour. To the neighboring fields. If you climbed up the top of the Longhouse you would have seen it!" You patted it over your shoulder as you trampled up the path of the settlement.

"Yes, but Tove reported that Saxon bandits are passing nearby lately and-" "Eivor, I don't need a nanny! I can defend myself. I might as well show you how good I am." You raised your voice a little harder than you wanted as you spun back, defiantly shouting into his face. Eivor backed up with wide open eyes, raising his arms to the surrender. 

"Hey, hey, you have no reason to yell at your brother, little one. I just want the best for you." Eivor's voice sounded suspiciously metallic, sarcastic. You knew he was almost certainly  taking your words half-heartedly.

"And if you want any good for yourself, you'd better shut your mouth before I stuff it with Gunnar's footcloth!" Your fingers and fists almost turned white from the effort you used to hold the bucket close to your chest – you had to concentrate very hard not to hit your brother's head with it.

"You talk like you have a chance to beat me." Eivor chuckled to himself in a pitiful grin.

"Listen here, you smartass, Sigurd entrusted you with the leadership of the Clan, not that some blister-headed—"

"I think it will be enough of spreading curses for today. Otherwise, Valka won't be able to make enough talismans for all of us if you keep going like this." In your big arguments, you didn't even notice that Randvi walked next to you. She looked at the two of you with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe a retreat would be good.”

"But Randvi, don't you hear that Eivor runs to me at the slightest crack of a stick to see if I'm still alive? Can't you see that even though I've had the same training as him in our childhood, he acts like I'm a defenseless baby? " You turned to Randvi in desperation, not even paying attention to the water, whether it would stay in your bucket or not.

Your sister in law looked back at you with a pursed mouth. Please, be the more mature one. Reflected in her gaze.

Why do you always have to take the shortcut, for the sake of peace?

You nodded with an annoyed sigh.

"Alright." You grunted in agreement turning back to Eivor, but your flaming stare could have almost scorched him. "Next time I'll tell someone to come with me when I leave home. Okay?"

Eivor's face softened, his eyes sparkling with joy as he grinned in satisfaction.

"Perfect, little sister." He almost sang it as he straightened his back and walked off as if he had done his job well.

"I'll drown him in Tekla's beer one day, you'll see." You fumed at Randvi as you watched with narrowed eyes your brother’s leave.

Randvi laughed hearing this, and patted your shoulder. "Don't be so angry with him, he really only wants good for you." She said apologetically, voice full with kindness.

"His desire for good crushes me. He suffocates me with his fear. No one could live that way." You answered defiantly, speaking from your heart. When will the moment finally come when you can live your life for yourself and no one else?

You sighed dejectedly, then lifted the wooden bucket to your side again. "..I'd better reload this." You muttered, then waved goodbye to Randvi and turned back towards the water.

It seemed to be a long day ahead of you. 

That night you felt like all the joy had been drained from you. Despite the feast, time passed grimly. Despite the music, singing and celebration, you couldn't cheer up - the meat felt tasteless in your mouth.

Since what happened in the morning, you didn't even want to see your brother, specifically for that reason you went to the other side of the longhouse, where you won't even accidentally come under Eivor's watchful eye.

You wondered what you should do to make your brother's overbearing subside.

"Is this seat up to take?" A question came to you behind your back. At first it crossed your mind that it could just be Eivor, that he can't even leave you alone while eating, but then you realized that the voice asking the question sounded much softer than your brother's thunderous one. 

You turned around and found yourself facing Hytham's slender figure. ​He wore his usual white caftan, but now the hood did not cover his lush brown curls. In the darkness, the light of the fire showed a deep brown iris of warm honey, his skin golden from the dancing embers.

It was as if the summer night itself was standing before you.

"For you I am gladly saying yes." You smiled with relief, motioning for him to take the seat beside you.

With a chuckle Hytham took a seat beside you and as he was settling, his shoulder and elbow rubbed against yours.

"Oh, sorry!" He gasped in fright, immediately pulling away from you, offering a decent distance.

"Ah, don't even  worry about it." You waved it away, turning to him. "And what's new in the office? Have you found anything recently with… Eivor, that would advance your research?" You asked, leaning on your elbows.

Hytham shone a timid smile towards you, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid I can't give you exciting news, there haven't been any new leads for weeks. Eivor has been too busy lately, taking care of the clan's affairs with the surrounding allies, to be thinking about that right now."

Pursing your lips, you pondered; your attention falling on the beer mug in your hand, you didn't even have time to notice the warm, longing look with which Hytham stole a glance at you. 

You couldn't notice it - but Basim did; from across, beside the fire. 

"And if I helped instead of Eivor? Trust me, I'm just as good at tracking as he is!" It came out of your mouth suddenly. The thought that you could finally break away from the prohibitions of your brother, from the small life of the settlement, had an invigorating effect on your soul.

"Uh…well…I don't know." Hytham was suddenly speechless, fidgeting shyly, glancing around the hall. "I don't think your brother would be happy if I took you."

"Eivor would only be happy if I was sitting on the shelf in his room until Ragnarök." You rolled your eyes, poking at your brother in annoyance. "Please Hytham! I promise I'll be of use to you!" Leaning closer to him, you betted your eyelashes so sweetly, gazing up at him in the hope that his heart softens for your request. 

But Hytham's heart no longer needed cunning tricks to seduce him.

An indescribable force has drawn him to you since his arrival in the North. The man stood mesmerized by your beauty and as the months went by, as he got to know your pure soul, bright mind, and sharp tongue more and more, he grew a great passion for your person.

Young fierce love or it was a heart-wrenching, bittersweet yearning;  he didn't know yet – Hytham was only certain of this: that your nearness filled him with hope and happiness.

And that was enough for him.

"I— I can  Basim when he might not need my help, and if he releases me, we can go…if you really want to, of course." He agreed with a warm smile on his face.

Sheepishness filled you under his penetrating gaze –  your heart pounded, and slowly the heat of the fire seemed cold compared to the warmth of your skin, as you could only look at your mug while blushing.

When did the young man from the far east start to interest you? When did you notice his charming smile and delightful gaze? How many times have you melted by his eloquence, gentle speech, patience or care? Why did you feel you could never tell Hytham this, because of Eivor? That your brother would definitely stand in your way, even if only for a spark of happiness.

Perhaps better at rest; to live unchanged; as in shame and regret.

"So be it, Hytham." You agreed, now in a much more subdued tone. "If you have come to an agreement with Basim, please tell me immediately!" You promised him as he bowed in agreement.

Maybe you were given a chance for a way out after all. Maybe you'll finally manage to break free from your brother's wings. Maybe if you start on this unknown path, you can find yourself in someone else's arms.

#ac valhalla #assassin's creed #assassin's creed valhalla #ac hytham #ac valhalla hytham #hytham #hytham x reader #ac hytham x reader #ac valhalla imagine #ac valhalla fanfic #my writing #i need someone to sedate me

[wesslesprout]

Reading through The Golden City now I'm done with the main plot of Valhalla and I rlly do wish we got more time to spend with Basim and Hytham especially like he's so cute and soft with kids even though he swore he could never be a dad aaaa

#ac hytham #assassins creed #assassin's creed valhalla #basim ibn ishaq #the golden city

[horizons-creed]

the hidden ones

So I followed Basim around for a bit and he just went to the cliff behind Ravensthorpe to stare down? lmao I never saw him go there again

#photo mode #assassins creed #video games #video game aesthetic #assassins creed eivor #assassins creed photo mode #assassins creed valhalla #ac valhalla #ac #eivor #virtual photoshoot #virtual photography #hidden ones #the hidden ones #basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #hytham #ac hytham

[notdeadellis]

oh to watch your loved one with sadness and longing in your eyes

#eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsdóttir #hytham #ac hytham #basim ibn ishaq #sigurd styrbjornson #roshan #Rebekah #ac roshan #ac Rebekah #assassins creed valhalla #assassin's creed #assassin's creed mirage #assassins creed #assassin's creed valhalla #assassins creed mirage #eivor x hytham #sigurd x basim #roshan x rebekah

[frenchoravocadotoast]

Take me back to Constantinople

Hytham (AC: Valhalla) x GN!Reader

Word count: 2704

A/N: I finished reading The Golden City a few days ago and I'm inconsolable :] Have some more Hytham content! (because I fell down a rabbit hole)

Had Hytham been told that he would challenge the tenets of the creed again, he would have vehemently denied it.

Constantinople had already been a tedious enough task to complete, and with his feelings involved, the young man swore to never get attached again. The life of an assassin was always on the run, never stable. He wasn’t meant to stay anywhere.

But then they met Sigurd. He and Basim traveled to Norway with him, then to England – and then Kjotve happened, and now Hytham had to stew in his disappointment as he healed from broken bones. His journey of travels ended here. At least he had the bureau to keep himself busy, as well as the lavish dinners to keep him fed and entertained. He liked it when there were get-togethers in Ravensthorpe. 

Like the one from a couple of days ago.

The assassin didn’t know what the reason for the celebration was – not that the vikings needed any. As long as they were promised food and booze at the banquet, they would gladly pillage and conquer any village they were asked to. Hytham had to admit that their logic was pretty efficient, if not a little too simple. But with Eivor, it was different. Her loyalties lay with her own virtues, a moral compass that luckily aligned with Hytham’s; and thus, she would willingly carry out any task that the Hidden One needed of her, even without the promise of a full belly and a drunken tongue.

She’d done a lot for him and his creed, and he couldn’t bring himself to say no to her when she insisted that he attend the celebration. She knew Hytham tended to overwork himself. There was paperwork to finish, new feathers to stock – hell, even the bureau itself was a mess. If Basim were to return with Sigurd now, and find the bureau looking like a rabid drengr had rummaged through it, Hytham would probably have to spend the rest of the month cleaning up the place rather than working up the ranks. 

He pursed his lips, not amused by the idea, but he tried his best to focus on the moment regardless. The clan members had come to form a circle, swaying to the tune of the music, and clasped their hands together as they stomped their right feet in unison. Hytham could feel the tremor under his own feet, and the laughing of the people echoed all over the room, pulling a smile at his lips too.

For a group of drunkards, they danced with great passion and expertise. Practice, Hytham shrugged. It definitely wasn’t their first night drinking and pissing mead, and dancing until their feet hurt. The circle spun faster and faster as the music enhanced. The dancers paired up to twirl and jump, and through the motion blur of faces and twirling dresses, Hytham saw it. Well, he wasn’t quite sure he’d seen it, but the smile looked familiar enough – and as the dancers continued to spin, his eyes settled on you.

He was right, then. You had indeed joined the circle. But your steps were calculated, and you lacked the drunken sway of the vikings who could barely keep themselves upright. Your smile shone bright, and your eyes crinkled under its pull as you switched partners with a woman. Her cheeks matched the tone of her ginger hair, and you somehow managed to avoid getting splashed by her drink, horn in hand.

Hytham’s eyes softened. It was moments like this that made him feel at ease, with no fear of an uncertain future or the haunting of a dark past. Everyone in this room had their fair share of demons, even the children – but they somehow possessed the power to forget about everything for the night, swinging and swaying to the music as the smoke from the bonfire fed off of each chant.

But there was something about you in particular that fascinated Hytham. Perhaps it was the way you carried yourself. The way you spoke, your presence. Maybe it was just the way you looked at him last week, when he’d taught you how to use his throwing knives. He was fixing your posture, and perhaps you’d noticed that he lingered close for too long, because Hytham caught you looking at him on numerous occasions since then. 

There was something there, he mused. A potion brewing quietly, and you were both none the wiser. Even now, the mere memory made Hytham’s fingers twitch as he watched you disappear on the other side of the circle.

“You’re staring.”

He stiffened, not wanting to give the woman the satisfaction of his reaction. 

“I’m just watching them dance.”

Eivor huffed out a laugh, dragging a wooden stool and plopping down next to him. From the corner of his eye, Hytham could see the blade of her ax glimmering under the candlelight.

“Basim was right, you’re awfully transparent.”

Hytham met her eyes, slightly offended. “He said that?”

“You can’t deny it if it’s true,” the blonde shrugged, nodding in your presumed direction. “Why don’t you ask them for a dance?”

Immediately, the assassin clammed up. It must have been an amusing sight to Eivor; a trained killer with a blade strapped to their arm, refusing to approach a person of their interest. When he and Eivor first met, Hytham had gone into detail about the imperative need to separate one’s feelings from their work – to allow such a thing could greatly compromise both his life and his creed. But it was a blurry line for the likes of him, a game that tested their loyalty to the brotherhood. The young eagle knew that line had been tested before, trespassed by his peers and predecessors. It hadn’t ended well for them – after all, the life of an assassin was short. It was built on sacrifice rather than yearning, that was the true purpose of a Hidden One. But now, Hytham knew he was once again at the mercy of his own heart – and what would that make of him?

Human, the little voice in his head said. It sounded an awful lot like Basim, and the acolyte was sure he could almost hear the older man’s trademark smirk. He must have trespassed that line too, at some point in his life; and Hytham couldn’t blame him. He was almost tempted to do it for the second time, too – perhaps he was spending too much time around the man. 

Hytham gave the viking woman a tentative smile. “You know I’m injured. I shouldn’t be dancing anyway.”

Eivor cocked an eyebrow, like she’d been expecting him to say that. 

“I thought it was your ribs that were broken, not your feet.”

Hytham frowned, frustrated; not because of her insistence, but rather because of her ability to read him like a book. Unlike his mentor, Hytham lacked the talent to keep secrets, and he was seemingly obvious to everyone except for himself.

“I don’t know how to dance,” he tried again.

“And they do?” Eivor laughed, looking at a drunk man who tripped and dragged his dancing partner down with him. Hytham could smell the alcohol on their breath from his seat.

“They’re too drunk to care.”

“Hytham.”

“I know you mean well, Eivor,” he softened his tone, shaking his head. “But I believe I should sit this one out. My ribs have been hurting again, and I wouldn’t want to aggravate them.”

It was a lie, and Eivor knew. Nevertheless, without questioning him, the woman sighed and stood up with great effort. She squeezed his shoulder in one last attempt to encourage him, but Hytham only patted her arm. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, or that he lacked the confidence to do so – but Hytham felt like he’d be intruding if he were to approach you now. You gleamed and danced amongst the other dancers, stepping over the bodies of the people who had succumbed to a drunken sleep. You moved with the kind of expertise he would almost envy if he weren’t a skilled fighter himself. 

Someday, he told himself. Someday, he would try to talk to you again. Not now, when you seemed to be in your own world. Hytham was content with just watching for now.

»» ──────ஓ๑♥๑ஓ ────── ««

That day came sooner than Hytham expected.

The scenario was oddly familiar. As per your request, you were in the training yard once more, graced by the presence of a slumped dummy. The assassin didn’t stray too far from you, observing your posture as you readied another throw. 

“Remember to aim for a pulse point.”

Hytham muttered, not keen on interrupting your focus. You were deeply concentrated, he could tell. Your gloved fingers gripped the dagger tightly, readjusting your hold, before you pivoted and hurled the weapon at the humanoid sack. The blade hissed through the air and past the target, and the scowl on your face darkened.

“Damn it.”

The assassin smiled in amusement. Throwing knives were cheeky little bastards – they seemed to have a mind of their own and strayed wherever they pleased. And the wind today didn’t seem to be working in your favor, either. These weren’t the best conditions to be training; but for the two of you, spare time was just as slippery as the flying blades. The second you could find time to spend together, you’d take it.

So Hytham respected your choice to continue training. It was a good enough excuse to spend time with you, at least until he ran out of knives.

He drew another one from his belt, nodding at you. “That’s alright. Try again.”

You took the dagger from him, and perhaps your impatience was starting to get to you, because just a few seconds later, the knife was cutting through the air again. This time though, it embedded itself into the crotch area of the dummy, and true to its humanoid appearance, it slumped over as if it were in pain. Hytham let out an incredulous laugh, warily eyeing the dummy.

“Wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”

You grinned in triumph, satisfied that this one had struck the target. “But this would still work, right?”

“I suppose it would,” he hummed, instinctively handing you another knife. It was the last from his belt, and Hytham was relieved to know that he would soon be retreating back into the warmth of the bureau. He propped up the dummy before joining your side again. “Try one last time. Here, I’ll help you.”

Your posture was better than last time, but it still needed fixing. The man waited for you to curl the knife up to your opposite shoulder, before leaning closer to hover at your eye level. Gauging the distance by moving into your space was unnecessary, he knew you were capable enough to do so on your own. You knew you didn’t need him either. And yet, Hytham relished the side glance you gave him, one that lingered on his face longer than he’d expected. He fought back a smile as he reached to lift up your crooked arm.

“Focus on the target and take your time,” he reprimanded you playfully. You ripped your eyes away from him, and Hytham swore he could feel the heat emanating from your cheeks. “Your arm should be fully outstretched in a straight line. Aiming too high or too low will miss the target entirely, and you’ll quickly lose range advantage.”

He let go of your elbow when he was satisfied enough. Your eyes were trained on the dummy, unblinking, and the leather of your gloves groaned when you tightened the grip on the knife. Your voice was a soft mutter, but Hytham heard it. 

“You know, you sound a lot like Basim.”

The man gave you the ghost of a smile. It seemed the little voice in his head was starting to seep into his voice now, too.

“Well, he is my mentor,” a pause, and Hytham was tempted to speak again despite your focus. He added quietly. “Would you prefer his tutoring?”

“No. I would much rather enjoy your company.”

“And I yours.”

Another pause, and then, you flung the knife again. It cut through the air with a hiss, glinting for just a second before it sank into the neck of the dummy, and the stray strands of straw fluttered down at the stab. Hytham grinned as your eyes widened, and drew back to look at you properly.

“Good job,” he winked, promptly walking back to the mannequin to retrieve his knives. “Remind me to never get on your bad side again.”

“So this is how you do it?” you asked, and Hytham’s smile softened at the awe in your eyes. “I’ve seen you fling daggers from greater distances with just the flick of a wrist.”

The man shrugged, at a loss for words. He was never good at taking compliments, especially when they were this genuine. “It’s a matter of practice,” was all he said instead. He nodded at the bureau just as you joined his side.

“In that case, I’ll have to whisk you away more often. I need you to teach me how to do that.”

Hytham repressed a grin, but he couldn’t hide the blush on his cheeks.

“You know I won’t complain.”

»» ──────ஓ๑♥๑ஓ ────── ««

Complain? No, he could never.

Hytham didn’t know what it was that pulled him towards you. Other than his feelings, of course. Was it the way the fireplace of the bureau cast shadows on your face? The depth of your eyes, perhaps? The tender caress of your lips against his? Too many questions ran about in his mind, and no answer was valid enough to satisfy him.

There was one thing that did satisfy him, though; and he knew right then and there that he was doomed. The kiss started off with a peck –Hytham wasn’t sure who had leaned in first–; but then came a second one, and then another one, which turned into a lingering kiss. He felt the heat of your sigh, the gentle nudge of your nose, the caress of your lashes against his skin. The blood in his ears was roaring at your touch.

If this was how training ended every time, then Hytham wouldn’t have minded teaching you more often.

You had somehow found your way to the shelves. His body pressed you against them, caging you in his embrace as your hands cradled his face; and here, hidden away from any witnesses, your lips came to create a dance and language of their own. Hytham pulled back, desperate to relieve the burn in his chest but not leaning too far either. Your breaths intermingled once more as his finger skimmed over your cheek, and he whispered.

“I’m starting to think training was just an excuse.”

He felt you smile against his skin, like he had caught you in a lie. Perhaps he had, judging from the glint in your eyes.

“It wasn’t, at least not in the beginning,” you paused, interrupted by him as he surged forward to catch your lips again. Your words etched onto his skin as you whispered through the kiss. “But then you refused to dance with me at the celebration, and I had to come up with a new idea.”

Hytham stilled, and your smile widened at his reaction. He glanced between your eyes, trying to read you like he’d been trained to do in his novice years. It was so obvious now that he looked more carefully – maybe he was too distracted by his feelings in the past to even notice what you were plotting. That seemed to be a recurring problem for Hytham. His cheeks grew warm again, but his small smile said he was impressed.

“I was set up.” 

“Took you long enough.”

“You’re devious,” his words were teasing, but the assassin felt his eyes soften the more he looked at you. Your arms around his neck had never felt so welcoming. “Perhaps we should make a Hidden One out of you.”

“Only if you continue teaching me how to use the knives.”

Hytham grinned, whispering against your lips. “Deal.”

#assassins creed #assassins creed valhalla headcanons #assassins creed valhalla #hytham #basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #ac hytham #ac valhalla #ac valhalla x reader #ac valhalla headcanons #hytham x reader #ac hytham x reader #female eivor #eivor wolfkissed #eivor wolfsmal #eivor varinsdóttir #sigurd #assassins creed headcanons #ac headcanons #ac the golden city #assassins creed the golden city #hytham the golden city #basim the golden city

[mocosa-media]

my AC1 rant

Okay but Malik had a son duh, Tazim. Yes, but imagine Tazim going to Masyaf as a mid-teen (like 16 or 17 whatever) right? Right, so he’s recruited easily because he’s a scrappy kid who knows how to fight dirty (note: dirty, not as an assassin yet) and the order’s standards have fallen since Altair left. Not much is done. I personally think of a frat house, lot’s of pretty buff looking dudes but only a small handful actually have brains while the rest just want to party. 

Anyway, Tazim who gains friendships and finds out about his father’s death the hard way. Through this all, Tazim keeps his background a secret. No one knows he is Malik’s son. He first came to Masyaf to find answers. He found them. Dead dad. Possibly revenge? No, he has lost any energy to do that because Abbas’ power seems ridiculously big. Tazim mourns for his father alone while still training in secret with his new friends.

Tazim gets cocky years later because he’s a pretty darn good fighter now. He still trains in secret but it’s sorta like an afterschool club. After his job at the stables, he goes to hangout at their hidden training grounds, etc. etc. He betrays his friends, but when he gains them back they give him a major ass kicking he absolutely deserved. 

They get their hidden blades. 

The gang have their own “bureau” which is just an abandoned home on the edged of the city where they hangout; It’s their clubhouse where they plan and drink and gossip. They are like 17-20 year olds come on. 

Abbas searches for another piece of Eden. Tazim and his gang join in on this race. Bad stuff happens. Death. Depression. Reminiscent to AC1 opening scene/mission. In turn, Tazim is sad (maybe hurt in a similar fashion as his father; history repeats itself) and it seems that the only reason he was staying in the brotherhood has died.

Tazim says, “Fuck the loyalists. Fuck Altair and fuck Abbas.” He hates everything and everyone so his ‘traitor’ begins to show. So much so that he’s sent to Abbas and when Abbas is like “Are you a traitor as so and so claims?” Tazim is like, “Fuck you, maybe. I miss my home.” (Home as in the OG old Masyaf of when Altair was there. 

Tazim is stripped of his title and sent back home. No- like he’s sent back to Jerusalem where he grew up. Inspiring things happen and he hears the rumors of Altair returning. He’s like “Not these bullshit rumors again.” 

But guess what? Not a rumor. 

He goes back! 

He is like “Yeah I gotta finish the shit I started and help an old man out.” so he does! When he goes back, his old crew is extremely happy and they give him all updated info. He’s like omg me too I have updated info, my dad is badass Malik and I have Altair behind me now too.

Yes, they all freak (in a good way)

They take over Masyaf again. All is well. Sorta. Okay thanks.

#ac1 #assassins creed #assassins creed syndicate #ac #ac valhalla #hidden ones #Altair Ibn La'Ahad #altair #malik al sayf #Malik #Tazim Al-Sayf #tazim #ac fanfic #assassin's creed mirage #basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #ac altair #hytham #ac hytham #maria thorpe #ac maria #ac maria thorpe #kadar al sayf #kadar #ac kadar #hidden blades #ac2 #abbas #abbas sofian

[ls-21187]

sorry not sorry literally them

#assassin's creed valhalla #assassins creed #assassin's creed #ac valhalla #assassins creed valhalla #hytham #ac hytham #basim ibn ishaq #ac basim #basim #sigurd #sigurd styrbjornson #ac meme #meme #memes #assassin's creed meme #assassin's creed memes

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Is it okay if I could request something else as well for AC Valhalla. Where the reader is a Viking and her and hytham have a secret crush on each other, but when they try to bond with each other basim always interrupts them as he’s jealous of hytham and wants the reader’s attention 💙

The fruit of chores

Pairing: Hytham x reader, (Basim x reader)

Word count: 30k

Genre: fluff, awkward fluff, idiots in love

Warnings: none, they just awkward as much as i am

Note: Helloo, I'm resurrected! Sorry for the long wait, I can't really make much progress between finals, but soon it will all end hopefully and I'm coming back to write more stuff.

Ufff sooo it was A LONG TIME to do it but I hope I can compensate with its length🙊🙉🙈❤️

Encouraged with a big sigh, you bent down, gripping the sides of your basket, mustering all your strength to pull the heavy load into your lap. If the children of the village could easily fit in this basket while playing hide and seek, then it would certainly be demanding to carry your basket full of clothes on the snow and slippery frozen road, in your hands, all the way to the beach. And then to cut the ice so you can start washing. And then being fast enough to complete the task assigned to you before your fingers freeze…

Winter in the land of the Saxons was quite different from at home, they were winters long ago; it snowed here too, but in negligible amounts, as you have taken for granted since childhood. While at home you were dressed so thickly that only your eyes were visible from the multitude of scarves and furs, where you had to dig out the paths between the houses that disappeared during the night with a spade, on this island you hardly felt the frosty months. When the snow fell, it barely reached the middle of your legs, the wind didn't freeze sharp ice crystals on your eyelashes and hair, you didn't have to dig the road or use snowshoes along the banks.

There were still challenges here though; as in all cold weather doing the activities that required warm weather was a real pain to carry out.

Craning your neck left and right, you tried to keep an eye on the sloping road in front of you, as the huge basket covered your field of vision between your arms. At the same time trying to balance between the ground slipping beneath your feet and not dropping a single piece of clothing, you set off towards the beach humming a cheerful children's song that your grandparents sang to you by the fire when you were little. Passing by the Long House, you caught a glimpse of Eivor's tall blond figure between the slightly open doors, and Hytham's shorter, slimmer figure next to him.

He was wearing the white coat of his order, the gray-white fabric almost glowing in the darkness of the longhouse, the light streaming in from outside illuminating Hytham. Maybe you were looking in his direction for too long, suddenly you woke up from your observation that the ground slides out from under your feet, your leg kicked forward hauling you behind.

Accompanied by a sharp squeal, you tossed the basket to the side just in time to regain balance with your hands flapping wildly. For a moment your head was spinning, heart pounding in your chest with the force of a ritual drum, as you stood on your feet again.

“Uh, is everything okay?” Hytham's soft voice called from beside you and you jumped again. How could he reach you in such silence? Before you could slip again, he grabbed your arm, his hand securely wrapped around it, but it didn't hurt.

"Careful, now hey!" He chuckled. "I'm holding you."

You felt your face heat up, even against the cool sun — to have him so close to you, right after you almost fell… because you were watching him and not the road.

"Yes. Of course, I'm fine. Everything is fine. Thanks for… catching me.” As you looked into his eyes, the little intelligibility you had vanished from your mind. Hytham's warm brown eyes reminded you of the summer sun, the heat spreading over your skin as he held you. He examined your face so gently, kindly and inquisitively, you felt- despite the cold- that you were about to catch fire.

"Can I help you carry the basket? It's hard for a person, and I don't want you to get in trouble because of it." Saying the words, Hytham's suntanned face began to spread a faint rosy blush; he looked away in emberassement, cratching his shaven chin.

You never understood how the handsome man hadn't realized that you liked him, ever since you first met Hytham in Fonbrug you could only stutter and mumble in his presence, unable to look into his sensual eyes for a longer period of time.

At first you thought that the feeling would pass, you must have liked the young man only because he came from a mysterious land, with a culture and customs unknown to you, leaving your interest in the attraction of the unknown.

But as the months passed, the two newcomers who went with Sigurd from Constantinople became more and more familiar with the clan members, as you had the opportunity to get to know them, what kind of people they really are; you found yourself falling more and more in love with Hytham.

He was always so helpful and open to you, telling you amazing and intriguing stories whenever he had the chance. Many times at the evening feasts he sat beside you, keeping you company; and you were happy to offer to organize and pack his belongings in their office.

How he didn't realize you were hopelessly into him, you didn't know. Maybe he didn't notice the signs? Maybe he just didn't want to notice? Or were you just not interesting enough for him to bother with you?

You blinked wide when his warm touch jolted you out of your thoughts, gently holding your hand and trying to take the heavy basket away from you. Your mouth fell open but no sound could come out; you just nodded silently, with a bashful smile, you let nhim take the laundry from you.

"So, I hear that a celebration will be held soon..." The man spoke as you continued your walk towards the shore.

Peeking next to you, you watched as Hytham held the huge package with a firm hand, his feet maneuvering nimbly and precisely on the slippery surface. His gaze quickly flicked to you as you locked eyes; he quickly turned back forward with a faint smile.

“Ah, yes, the Winter Festival, Yule. Have you ever participated in one?” You asked, genuinely curious. Whenever you spoke to the young man, Hytham somehow always managed to come up with some new detail about his youth.

In his narratives he revealed how many wonderful places he has visited with his master, how many different people he has met, what adventures he had been part of, fit for the Sagas.

"Never before. Until now, I have only heard about the traditions of your people, but I am excited to finally experience them; why is this holiday of yours so important."

"I'm sure you'll like it!" You smiled to yourself; your journey soon ended as the crunch of snow under your feet was replaced by the sharp crack of thin layer of frozen ice at the edge of the shore.

Hytham quickly placed the basket next to you, showing no sign of effort. You breathed in the cold air; the faint smell of fish from the fast-flowing river and the charcoal smell of the wood burning in the huts felt strangely pleasant to you.

“Well, here we are.” Hytham scratched the back of his head with a startled, brooding look, seemingly at a loss as to how to continue the conversation.

You nodded meekly, searching for the words, the thoughts; anything that you could use to keep the man by your side just for a little while longer and hear his voice. Taking a shirt out of the pile, you gave him a cursory glance. Among the glistening white, snowy bushes and houses, Hytham stood out with his honey-brown skin, soft eyes, and ice-melting smile. Like a glowing ember, a warming light for you, in this harsh time- among your often stoic people. Every time the two of you had a chance to meet, you felt as if he could touch your heart, even with a single look.

"I really appreciate your help." Clearing your throat, you turned towards him, to which Hytham immediately turned his head in your direction. It's like being a teenager again; you felt like a little girl who started to like a pretty boy for the first time ever, and now she doesn't know what to do with herself.

“Of course. What would my master have taught me if I were to leave a lady in trouble?” Hytham gave you a half-smile, with that look again that warmed and pinched your cheeks, causing you to avert your gaze with a wry smile. Before you could regain your composure, the young Hidden One continued with astonishment in his voice: "I have to say, I haven't had the opportunity to experience such a cold season for a long time. Furnburg was colder, that's for sure; but somehow the time spent there passed quickly before we came here, the question never arose in my mind, how do you do your daily tasks when it's bone-chilling cold outside and the sun is nowhere to give you warmth...?”

Pondering on the answer you bit in your bottom lip, causing Hytham to take a sharp breath, clearing his throat again.

Shirt in hand, you stepped closer to the icy water of the river, grabbing the hem of your skirt to lift it up a bit, carefully squatting down without getting wet. Glancing up at Hytham, you motioned for him to follow your movement; he crouched next to you in the frozen sand - shoulders brushing together.

Starting with the washing while telling him what it is like to fight with the frost and cold when you need the heat the most.

“Even if snow and frost covers the ground, the dirty clothes should be washed, the same way you have to get from one house to another, the same goes for the trade, blacksmith shop, and animal feeding. We don't let the world around us tell us what we can and can't do. Even in difficult times, life goes on."

"You have reinvented yourselves, even in the harshest environment." With a nod of approval, the man- pulling away from his knees raised his palm next to yours, holding it above the surface of the water; the waves and eddies desperately trying to reach his skin.

"I remember many times I had to take my father's ax to wash, cut through the thick ice to even reach the water. As a clumsy little girl, my hands were always so frozen in the water that I could barely bend my fingers all the way." Thinking back on the memory, you sighed fondly. "Then when I got home, after a little scolding, my mother took my hands in her warm palms and breathed on them, caressed them until the pain went away and said: Next time you will know how to do it, you will be better." Glancing up, you were met with sparkling eyes. Hytham studied your face with a gentle smile and a searching look as if he was seeing a vision before him. A smile crept onto your lips as well, but before you could shake your head in confusion, Hytham turned forward, starting to watch the fast-flowing water.

"Once, when I had to run away from a merchant because he thought I had stolen from him, I fell off the roof into the horses' drinking well during a miscalculated jump." He began, dipping his palm into the water for a moment. Trying to test the water on his skin, the icy water stung his hand coldly;Hytham pulled back into his lap to warm it up as if he was stung. "When Basim saw me; how wet my clothes were, he sent me up to the rooftop of our base. I remember clearly even now- I can almost feel how hot the sun was on my skin. It burned me like hot coals.”

"Interesting, don't you think?" You hummed softly. Fire and ice, how opposite forces, yet how similar in pain, when we want too much of them.”

"But both are necessary. One cannot live without them. When you have experienced both extremes, only then will you appreciate the soft touch of the breeze or the warm hands of our loved ones.”

Hytham smiled gently, his eyes glancing up at you almost shyly from under his eyelashes, you only noticed how close he was crouching next to you once finished washing— you could almost feel the warmth emanating from his skin. For a moment, you toyed with the idea of what it would be like to have the man's warm embrace, the touch of his hands on you; would you feel the same searing heat that he told you about.

Maybe you could have stayed like that for hours. Forgetting even the cold and the tasks assigned to you; only hearing the other's voice, looking for the shy, inquisitive glances, in the midst of feelings that you hid most deeply within yourselves. Maybe, if you had watched his eyes for a very long time, the way his lips moved and curved into a smile, maybe you would have finally had enough courage to do something about the desires of your heart. Instead, your small talk was interrupted by a familiar, deep baritone voice.

"Parchments don't look over themselves, Hytham." Basim raised his voice against the roaring water, and you and Hytham turned around like startled birds. "Go back to your work slowly." He ordered the young Hidden One, tone unapologetic. His stern gaze then fell on you, his features softened, and a faint, sly smile crossed his face, nodding to you as a greeting.

Sighing deeply, Hytham got up from the water, not taking your eyes off him, you followed his movement, leaving your previous place. Grabbing a still dry jacket, you pulled it close to your chest, for one- against the blowing cold wind, and so that you could fold something in front of you, your hands finding something else to grip, other to seek Hytham's vanished touch. With pursing lips he looked down at you apologetically, his lips parted, but the young man couldn't find the words to address you again. Inside, you felt bitter that you had this moment interrupted between the two of you, even if this little conversation wouldn't count as much to anyone else; you felt Hytham's soul became one step closer to you.

"We'll continue the conversation at dinner in the evening." You offered encouragingly, seeking his gaze. "If you want to." You added it quickly before he could find you too eager.

"I would really like that." Hytham nodded, raising a palm to the back of his head.

And with that, before you could say or do anything else; the man gave you one last, hopeful look before hurrying up the shore towards the huts.

You watched as he passed by his master and teacher; the younger man's shoulders seemed to contract for a moment, and Basim's gaze narrowed as he followed his protégé's path with his gaze behind him.

Maybe they argued about something, maybe some problem arose in their work; that you suddenly thought you detected tension between the two. You weren't sure, but Basim was usually lenient, helpful, and understanding with his young student. What is the cold behavior then?

You didn't think much of it as the older man started walking towards you to the shore. His presence always demanded a form of respect and attention from people, and this did not affect you any differently. Involuntarily, you pulled yourself out and stood in front of him, as if you were the subject of a survey.

Basim approached you with a straight stance, measured steps; the senior Hidden One loomed in front of you with his hands clasped in the usual way in the front. You soon noticed that despite trying to stay calm, your face started to burn under Basim's gaze, heartbeat pacing up.

There was nothing to deny; it became a kind of open secret, a common rumor among clan members; no matter how you look at things — the two men from the far south-east enjoyed great popularity among the ladies. Both had strikingly attractive looks; in their own mysteriousness. Despite your common sense, in the company of the two of them, it was hard not to get embarrassed under the expressive eyes, in addition to the attractive features. It wasn't any different now, as you tried not to look so sheepish.

"Please, my apologies for the intrusion, I hope I didn't interrupt anything... important." He rasped low, taking care to articulate each word, lingering for a few seconds on the last words.

It was as if a thousand thoughts and expressions swirled in his dark eyes; you felt as if his gaze had burned a hole in you. Basim smiled under his beard; looking down at you with a mysterious, knowing look, scrutinizing your own expressions that he successfully coaxed out of you. “Hytham is young, full of recklessness, other than that, a novice of course, and he gets easily distracted from his duties..” Basim lisped as he drew a sharp breath in, his gaze falling onto the icy river, a cold shiver running through your spine when his eyes left your form.

"Not that I can blame him and his... curiosity towards you." He finished as he turned back to you; his gaze swept over your entire form before humming in approval.

The moment you watched Basim's movement, his reaction towards you; your heart skipped a beat. The cavalcade of a thousand thoughts suddenly vanishes from your mind; leaving hot fire, numbness and the feeling of something wanting to burst from the inside. Your heart rumbled wildly behind your starnum, shaking your bones, boiling your blood; the air fled your lungs, a gasp stuck at your throat.

That look. The movement. There was no need to think about what it might mean; a longing look, wondering what it might be like to experience the images emerging in the night; what it’s like to act upon the dream, for which one so much desires.

The realization that you may interest the man in more ways than a simple local would; a familiar face among others- it triggered an avalanche of emotions in you in the space of a heartbeat.

"And what… what kind of curiosity would drive you towards me?" It fell out of your lips, as you tried to find a grip on the whole situation. You had to make sure it was just a figment of your head: you just wanted anyone- whether it was Basim or Hytham, to feel for you the way you wanted them to feel. Blinking rapidly as if you got something in your eyes, you avoided his piercing gaze; and instead looked to the side watching the flowing river.

You felt your heart thrummed wild, unruly like the stream beside you.

With a low chuckle, the tall man finally moved, rubbing his hands together against the cold and backing away; his face softened, as if he sensed your anxious thoughts, not wanting to overstep your lines.

Releasing the almost bursting tension between you, he breathed into his palm, creating a billowing white cloud that continued to spin lazily in the cold. Then with one last look- without a word, he turned and walked away. And your question stayed in the air, curious and dejected, rising back to your head.

The quick conversation with Basim may have left you in steaming warmth, but not the clothes in your hands- and if you don't hurry to collect yourself and the rags, you can start washing all over again, but with frozen shirts and pants instead.

~~~~~~~~~~

During the evening, you enjoyed the company of Hrefna and Tove, who kept you company in their mead intoxication, you didn't have time to dwell on what happened today. There was cheerful music and singing in the great hall, ceramic bowls clinked, cauldrons clinked, cups clinked, as the clan was finally able to sit down and celebrate another successful day, another successful week.

No, no, because if Rollo had told Valtar, the boy would have lost an ear! You must have heard them wrong!" Tove articulated with difficulty, leaning on the bench to drown out the din around you.

Hrefna chuckled and slammed her mug against the board, spilling out a generous amount of beer. You sat next to her with a smile, waiting for the next twist in the gossip that happened in the barracks this week.

"That's how it happened!" The other woman proved it. "Heard with my own ears!"

You took another sip of your drink, the warmth of the sweet juice spreading down your throat, warming your heart.

"That's how it happened!" The other woman insisted. "Heard with my own ears!"

You took another sip of your drink, the warmth of the sweet juice spreading down your throat, warming your heart.

Perhaps it would be better if you were now intoxicated with alcohol, your thoughts would be fogged, dazed way- you wouldn't have to bother with the troubled images of the real world. You shouldn't feel like you're being consumed by a swamp of curiosity and doubt, that the grip of longing is falling off your soul.

You would have done so; prepared for a dreaded morning- but tomorrow at least you would not worry about your heart’s problems, but the suffering of your body, which you can so easily ignore now.

But your cup couldn't be emptied, the agony remained on your side, in fact, it seemed that fate wanted to mock you, when a gentle touch tapped your shoulder calling for attention. With a slightly dazed mind from the strength of the mead, you turned to the side, fluttering your eyelashes to make the dizziness go away as soon as possible.

Hytham towered over you, his creole skin illuminated by the firelight seemed even more dazzling, almost golden in your eyes. His gentle smile, as always, danced at the corner of his lips while looking down at you, hand still resting on your shoulder after you noticed his presence.

Clearing your throat, you squirmed a bit on the bench, trying to look as sober as possible in front of the man.

"Ah hi Hytham, how is your evening?" You blinked up brightly, your drink seemed to have finally dissolved your constant shyness that caught you around the young man. You felt that then, in that situation, in the midst of the loud songs and the cavalcade of people you didn't have to worry about whether you were behaving according to Hytham's liking- your mind shut that thought out for the night.

"Have you tried Tekla's beer? I think it's a bit stronger than the last one, but the sweetness covers it well, don't you think?"

Hytham nodded with an amused look- it was only now that you noticed in the light, that there was a deep red blush on his face, amidst his golden radiance. Was it just the warmth of the fire, or did Hytham have as much fun that night as you?

"I...tasted it, yes. Eivor didn't let me get up from the table until I drank with him. Then we had another toast. Then he made a toast. Then Ake sat next to us and...I don't know how much we actually drank." Hytham faltered in his speech, clearly struggling with a few words before he finished.

In the meantime there was a lot of commotion - someone jumped up on a bench to sing, and the people started singing loudly. The man had no choice but to bend down, chin touching your shoulder, trying to make himself heard.

The humid and thick air of the stuffy hall suddenly became scorchingly hot for you, your breath hitched, as the strong scent of sweet beer, smoke and myrrh hit your nostrils.

For a moment you savored the closeness, imagining what this scent would feel like as his arms wraps around your waist.

The feeling passed too soon, receded too quickly for you to be able to dream any longer, realization hitting you like a bolt of lightning.

Pull yourself together, what are you doing? Chasing vain dreams will get you nowhere.

"Could we talk outside?" You heard the question; Hytham's voice became much more uncertain, afraid of the answer. "Face-to-face in a slightly quieter place..." He trailed off, quickly biting his lips, finding a distant column to look at, instead of your astonished eyes.

What could the pioneer assassin want from you, that he deems necessary the discretion of the frosty night?

Getting up from your seat, your head felt like it was spinning around your neck, lights and shapes distorted your vision. You firmly gripped the edge of the table, supporting your nauseated form, so that you wouldn't walk like the Jomsvikings used to, on the occasion of such festives — with your head crushed under the bench, dizzy from the thrill of wine and the blow.

To your surprise, and even more to your delight, Hytham was immediately at your side, placing his palm on your shoulder blade, his other hand holding your wrist to gently support you.

"I see tripping and almost falling is becoming a habit of yours lately." He grinned - voice low and slightly teasing.

"Fortunately, you're always around to catch me." You laughed it off, finally standing to your feet, but you couldn't shake off the dizziness— in fact, a pleasant buzzing caught your mind and heart again.

Tove and Hrefna looked at each other knowingly, grinning and toasting to each other that finally, maybe today you will get something from the excitement offered by the pleasant night. Hytham, still holding your wrist, led you through the beer and food slippery room, sometimes stepping over people lying on the floor, or dodging couples- dancing wildly around the tables, all the while pulling you close to his side, letting yourself be guided by his movements through the room

As he opened one of the huge oak doors in front of you, your heated skin sighed from the cooling breeze that wafted in and shook the torch flames. You knew that soon the pleasant refreshment would turn into biting cold, but until then you closed your eyes and left, feeling your mind start to return again, your sobriety coming back to life.

Hytham led you under the huge tree that stood in the square, pausing at its trunk to quickly scan the surrounding hutches, bushes, and sheds, looking for any unwanted eye witnesses or witnesses to his tale.

You watched as his sharp gaze darted from one spot to another, paying great attention to every little detail; and you wondered if he had ever looked at you with such great concentration.

Her gaze suddenly fell on you, and feeling as if you were caught in the act of staring, you bit your lip and lowered your eyes.

"I just wanted to make sure no one was intruding on our conversation." The young man explained apologetically.

A snort escaped your mouth, you looked back at him shaking your head. "I think quite a lot of people saw that we came out of the feast together, one way or another, but they're going to stick their noses into this with their rumors." Yes, but what kind of rumors they would be, you weren't sure. Knowing your clan— you didn't want to find out that soon.

"Let them say what they want." Hytham replied determinedly, a slight furrow appearing on his forehead and between his eyebrows. He took a step towards you, shoulders broad, chin up, a new light shining in his eyes. "What people around me think is not important to me. To me... the only thing that matters is what you think of me.”

Mouth falling sack, eyes widening, your heart jumped alongside with your belly before it started beating madly. What you heard before could only have been the effect of the honey-beer you drank, or you were so lost in admiring the man from afar that you were already imagining things.

When the realization finally hit you, and you were sure you heard Hytham's words correctly, all of your thoughts had been swirling, brewing inside of you suddenly stopped.

Would you have fallen into a world of states where everything happens according to your heart's desire? Or has this become a bitter joke of the Gods? Maybe... could it have been possible that your deepest hidden desire could come true?

“Hytham… what I think has always been the best about you and always will be. I don't think anything can change that." You reached for his hand, which you nervously squeezed in front of himself.

As you wrapped your fingers around his palm as if something had stung him, Hytham flinched; although instinctively opening his palm, taking your hand in a warm fist, thumb starting to trace circles on your skin.

"Not even.." He trailed off, shining, eyes blown wide- studying your features, going back and forth on your open lips. “Not even if… Should I say…I think I started to really like you?” He spoke the words timidly, as if revealing his most precious secret.

Which, as you now knew, was true.

“It looks like we're in the same boat then. I've taken a liking to you too, Hytham. Greatly." You almost sang the words out of joy, the warming touch on your hand became stronger, the man squeezed your fist, pulling it up to his chest- pulling you closer to his body.

You were almost sure, Hytham could hear your violently pounding heart, could see that you were about to cry, -laugh out of happiness, dancing with him on the snowy square. You looked up at him with glistening eyes, remembering every little detail as he looked at you, remembering this night as it played out.

"Really?" He breathed, excited. "I didn't think you would either... And I thought..." He didn't even finish the sentence; he slowly raised one of his palms to your face, your cheek fitting perfectly into his hand. "Can I ask... Can I give you a..."

"Yes." You spurted out giggling, expression soft, eyes beaming. Hytham let out a hearfelt chuckle, finally leaning down, his soft lips brushing over yours, before he finally kissed you. It was a gentle, tender kiss; that spun you around and released butterflies in your tummy.

All too soon, Hytham pulled back slightly, causing you to stumble forward, not wanting to end it yet.

For a moment both of you just held each other, eyes half lidded, trying to catch your breath, smiling at each other with the sweetest smile you ever wanted to gift someone with.

After some time, Hytham finally cleared his throat, collecting some of his posture.

" If you wouldn't mind... I would like to accompany you during your daily chores more. You see, I'm a great help…and we can talk and—”

"I would like that. More than you imagine.” You giggled, blinking up sheepishly at him. Next time you could bring your robes. I can wash them for you.”

Bringing up your hands once more, Hytham gingerly placed a few pecks over your knuckles, before speaking.

"Let's head back soon, it would be a shame that we freeze now." He chuckled, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Agreed.” You smile in agreement, accepting the offered hand. "We continue the chat inside."

Maybe it isn't so bad that you are tasked with these chores after all. What else can an afternoon of washing bring?

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[fadingpi]

The Hytham cameo in Mirage is literally perfect

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