"Safety and peace, Malik," he murmured, forehead and nose aligned, eyes closed - he could feel Malik's eyelashes against his and it brought such comfort, such a small feeling. And with a watery smile on his lips, he whispered, "Your presence here will deliver us both."

And if there is a tear that hangs in their eyelashes before sliding down Altaïr's cheek, well.

It had been thirty six years.

He could be forgiven something so small as emotion.