The Quiet Assassin 8/44

Jul 12, 2011 22:22



Title: The Quiet Assassin
Author: fictionfreak15
Beta: gwencarmichael <--- my backbone
Pairing: Adam/Tommy, Tommy/Kris(in the beginning)
Disclaimer: This story is 100%, complete, absolute fiction and apart from the OC's, I do not own the mass collection of characters used within
Warnings: angst, prostitution(past and mention of), contracted murder, rape(as well as attempted and mention of) sex, and I think that about covers it
Summary: Adam is an assassin for a powerful crime family in the City of Winserra. Tommy is a violinist with a past in the same city. After he witnesses Adam fulfill a contract, he finds himself more connected to the organization led by Simon Cowell than he ever thought a lowly musician like him could become.


A/N: So this is the scene that sort of began the whole thing, you might say.  There is a very pretty accent in my head when the assassin speaks, I wish you all could hear it :)  Big huggles to my BETA!!!  I WOVE YOU!!! Still no new words to teach you all lol, but this is only the beginning! Love and Respect - fictionfreak15

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Master List

Chapter 8

The next day Tommy woke up late in the morning, and he was alone in bed. But he had no idea where he was. He looked again at the sky blue robes he wore, and it all came back to him. Where is he? Tommy wondered to himself. He sat up and squinted at the crystal sunlight that shined through the window. Then he looked over and saw a stool sitting uncommonly beside the bed. On top was a change of clothes for him. First, Tommy found the washroom again, liking the look of the cottage much more in the daylight. A basin of water was waiting for him, and he washed his face and hands, noticing that his tossed hair was still just a little damp from being drenched the night before.
The night before...the man in the shadows saved him, cleaned him, held him. He could have left this world content in that moment. Then for some reason, he remembered the violin and had no clue where it was. He threw a towel he was using down and tried to talk as quickly as he could without making himself hurt too much, making his way back into the bedroom. He found his case lying on a chair by the window. His heart even breathed a sigh of relief. Of course...his savior was good enough to go back and get it last night. Who knew where it might have ended up?
Now that he didn't have to worry about that, he went ahead and disrobed so he could don the waiting apparel. To Tommy's surprise, they fit him well, but there was no need to wonder at this too long. He needed to find him.
Tommy left the room wearing another sky blue outfit, pants, a tunic tied at the waist by a red sash, and a long sleeved shirt. Venturing down the hall, he passed other closed off rooms before he came to the stairs. He was about to go that way when his eye caught some light to his left. There were double doors, and they were open. This seemed odd, and Tommy went to go see.
When he got to the end of the hall, he saw a large veranda overlooking the back of the property. The Cowell mansion must have been in the opposite direction on the other side of the house. The first thing Tommy saw was his savior who sat with his back to the door. Wearing black, his legs crossed and sitting a bit cockeyed in his chair rather than properly leaning against the back of it and sitting up straight. He sat at a white, iron, outdoor set with a round, four foot table and three chairs. It was simple and intimate with only a bit of rust on the legs that one wouldn't see unless looking for it. The assassin's hands were folded in his lap, and his head slightly lowered, not looking at anything.
Tommy stood there for a moment and almost jumped when the man did move; he was being so still. He turned his profile toward Tommy just for a moment and then slowly gestured for him to sit opposite him. Timidly, Tommy walked around the table, his eyes fixed on his savior whose gaze had returned to the lowered position it was in before. He noticed the raven haired man was wearing something on his face. They were round spectacles, but the lenses were darkened to the point of being opaque. They were just large enough to cover up his eyelids, and Tommy wondered if the man could actually see through them. Whether he could or not, Tommy found them rather striking in a good way.
His host seemed to be ignoring him though. He remained turned to the side in this chair, slouching a little even, and his head was down. The boy found it strange but pulled the chair opposite out and took his cushioned seat gingerly.
It was only then the assassin moved. He reached up with both hands and delicately removed the thin stems of the spectacles, setting them on the table out of his way. That was when Tommy noticed they both had a helping of fresh fruits cut up into chunks and mixed together in a bowel for each of them. Tommy's eyes widened at the juicy looking sustenance glistening in the sun and marveled that his host had gone through such trouble, but he tried to hold it in as best he could, too hungry to show appreciation.
He reached for a fork but there were four of them and on the other side were two different spoons; Tommy always had trouble with full place settings. His fingers hovered over the forks for a moment before he tried to discretely look up and see which one Adam had selected. Seeing this, the older man obligingly showed Tommy the fork he was using. No smirk, no sweet grin, no ribbing of any kind, just showing.
They began eating the chilled fruit in silence. Tommy said nothing because he didn’t know where to begin, and the other seemed to say nothing because one didn't talk while eating.
When they were done, the assassin replaced the glasses on his face and stood up. He walked passed Tommy toward the ornate railing and put both hands out on it. He gave a light sigh.
Tommy, meanwhile, was feeling like an idiot just sitting there alone, and he got up, careful to straighten slowly, stepping a few feet toward the man in black. He didn't like the way he'd virtually been ignored but gave his savior the benefit of the doubt, considering he'd been so attentive the night before. Then his thoughts were broken when the assassin turned to face him and began to speak.
"You must have... questions..." he said softly, that honey voice and exotic dialect that was consistently soothing in Tommy's heart.
But Tommy looked away, his mouth open a bit as if too shy to speak. He then uttered one of the more obvious questions. "Why did you save my life?"
Before there was an answer, the assassin leaned against the rail and crossed his arms in front of himself, still slouching. "I do not save lives...I take them."
Tommy knew it. This man was undoubtedly an assassin, his suspicions true, and most likely the second man in a week from the Jaren Cowell to cross his path. That man last night, Tommy's old acquaintance, had been the one who had Kris killed, and this assassin was sent to exact Simon's revenge. Tommy just happened to be there.
Without inquiring on this good theory, Tommy asked why the man took him home with him. "Why didn't you just leave me?" There was astonishment in his voice as Tommy realized that most anyone else may have done just that. Tommy thought he wasn't going to answer at first. It was hard enough to read him, but with those black spectacles on his face...it was impossible. Then the statue spoke softly as if louder words would shatter him.
"There is...more than one reason..."
A pause followed that promted Tommy to ask, "What?"
The assassin straightened up, looked at Tommy, then lowered his head again. "I heard you play music..."
"You were at the concert?" Tommy said in disbelief.
Adam nodded, "I was waiting...for him." Then he added with a slight mumble, "What he did to you was...wrong. My Masters taught me this...so I know."
Tommy pushed away burning tears, grateful that someone had not happened upon him last night who would have just let it happen.
Then the assassin said, with softness in his voice but sounded as though he couldn't fully understand it himself. "I hear you play and...and you are good...That man was bad...evil. Not right to leave one so good." His meaning got across, but somehow, Tommy had a feeling that Adam was new to whatever he was feeling, and the fact that he obviously grew up speaking Serasec had nothing to do with his lack of explanation.
Tommy said, "I'm not so good. You'd be surprised by the things I've done..."
"Perhaps..." said the assassin, a bit more strength in his voice, "...but I am thinking they are pale, comparing to me."
Tommy stared at him, a bit doubtful. "I don't think you are evil. You didn't even need to bring me here to show me that. I knew last night...when you didn't kill me."
Adam twitched just slightly, not knowing the boy knew his intentions. Did he know that he'd be dead by Adam's blade had he not heard the solo? That was the reason...was it not? He finally looked up, feeling Tommy deserved at least that much, but what could he say? "I have...no words to explain that..."
"You don't have to," Tommy said. What did it matter? "How long am I to stay here?"
Adam bowed his head again. It would be against all good judgment to release the boy, but how could he stop him? "You are not my prisoner...you leave today if you wish."
"And if I stay? What then?" Tommy had never met an assassin before and wondered what one would expect of him.
The assassin said, "If you stay, you can know I leave sometimes...and you must be prepared for a day when I do not return."
Tommy asked a sobering, "Why?", and Adam answered, "Because one day, Thomas, a man will kill me. I do not yet know his name, and he may not yet know I exist, but he is out there. We are... fated to meet in my lifetime...and he will kill me."
Tommy shook his head, saying that was impossible, that the assassin was invincible, and no one could ever touch him. "I know this because I've seen you kill...you are the hand of death...no one can kill you."
As he said this, the assassin pulled a small knife - a throwing knife - from some concealed place behind his neck. Tommy's next thought fell from his lips, and he gaped, watching Adam put the blade to the back of his own hand to make the smallest cut. It was by no means enough to possibly leave a scar, just enough to draw a little blood to the surface. He showed what was barely a wound to the boy. As Tommy looked at it, confused, Adam said firmly, "I am not immortal...even the greatest assassin can bleed." He sat the knife down and added, "No matter how skilled one is, there is someone always better. This blood is claimed by the man who will kill me."
It was a dreadful thought to Tommy. After all that had happened last night, all Tommy had to endure beforehand even, he didn't want to accept this of top of it, too. The tears he'd held back earlier could not be stopped now. He was so tense and filled with so much pressure and powerlessness about everything, and the thought of one day losing his savior frightened him. Even through his tears he looked straight at the assassin and said, "I don't want you to die, sir."
Adam saw the boy's pain, and though he was not accustomed to it, he felt inclined to ease it somehow. He slowly took a few steps so that he was close to Tommy, and he placed a hand on one shaking shoulder. With the other he reached up and removed the glasses from his face so he could look directly into Tommy's eyes. Adam towered over the poor boy with a firm expression that asked the blonde to calm. His voice was just above a whisper as Adam said, "I am alive now...and I can protect you."
Tommy gasped a little as all that was in his world were the two sapphires looking into his soul.
Than, he added, "And my name...is Adam."
tbc

fic, the quiet assassin, adommy

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