x.X.x

A lone assassin watched through an opening in the ceiling as hot summer air blew sand over the skies of Jerusalem.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and felt the scorching breeze whip his face, remembering the days he spent running across the rooftops,

Taking out targets or just racing his brothers, but those days were long gone now.

He let out a lengthy exasperated sigh and took one last look at the sky before moving back into the bureau, the air inside was still; it smelt of dusty old scrolls and ink.

Malik moved behind the counter and took out a new piece of parchment and a pot of ink, laying the parchment on the counter he got to work on a new map.

He lazily marked out possible locations of targets & important destinations for his brothers of the creed, the assassins who could still be put to use.

He gripped his stump and wondered 'what if I still had two good arms? Could I be out on thoserooftops instead of stuck in this bureau?'

It was lonely in this place, the other assassins only coming in to pick up maps or gather information, except...

A small smile tugged the corners of his lips as he began thinking.

Everyone who dropped by his bureau would have a look of pity on their faces... but not him.

Altair didn't pity him or try to comfort him; he would just smile and act as if nothing had happened between them. Though, there was always this look in his eyes that a smile couldn't hide, was it guilt? Shame? He didn't know.

Maybe he had been too tough on Altair? He had blamed him for so long for the death of Kadar. Had he been wrong to lay all the blame on him?

A quick glance out the door was enough to tell him that night was approaching fast and there was still much work to do, so he got to work on the rest of the maps.

x.X.x

Hours had passed and the once busy streets of Jerusalem were now silent.

All that could be heard was the scratching of the quill on paper as Malik finished off the last of the maps.

A loud thump penetrated the silence and shook him from his thoughts.

He looked to the entrance for the source of the noise but nothing could be seen through the darkness.

He kept his eyes on the entrance, a slow shuffling of feet and pained moans broke through the silence. "Altair?" He called out to that dark, the only response, the sound of something hitting the floor.

Malik rushed outside to find that Altair had collapsed on the ground, clutching at his side. He rolled the wounded man onto his back and pushed his hand away to reveal a deep stab wound.

He helped to carry the assassin to a pile of cushions and gently lay him down.

Altair began slowly removing his armour while Malik went back inside the bureau.

Once inside he grabbed a bucket of water and a length of tattered cloth to treat the wound. Stepping outside once again he couldn't help but notice the bloodied robes thrown aside with the rest of his gear.

He leant down next to his fallen brother, taking a piece of cloth; he dipped it in the water and rung out the excess. Altair hissed in pain as he began gently cleaning the wound and washing the blood off of his body. Once done, he placed the cloth aside and grabbed a new length of cloth.

"Sit up" He instructed as he held out his hand to help.

Of course, Altair was too stubborn to accept the offered help and pushed his hand away.

He scoffed and tentatively began wrapping the cloth around his stomach, making sure to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding.

Tying it off tightly, he grabbed the bucket and the now soiled cloth and began to walk away. "Malik..." Altair breathed through a pained sigh.

Malik turned to face him.

He had seen that look before, Altair wouldn't admit it but he hated to be alone, especially when he was hurting.

Malik had seen him wounded before and had always known how to comfort him.

Placing the bucket on cloth back on the floor he walked over to the man he once loved, maybe a man he still loved,

He sat down on the cushions behind Altair and let him lay his head on his lap.

"I'm sorry... Malik"

"It's okay..." He reassured him fondly "but you really should take better care of yourself"

"Not... about that..." His words slurred as he drifted to sleep.

x.X.x

As the night grew colder, the sleeping form in his lap began to shiver.

Careful not to wake him, he slowly took off his robe and wrapped it around Altair, feeling him nestle deeper in his lap.

He stared lovingly at the sleeping man, remembering all times they spent like this.

The nights they spent together in secret and the love they had once shared,

but everything changed in Solomon's Temple, this was the first night since that day that had truly spent together. All of the hate and anger he felt for Altair could just slip away in this moment. "If only..." he whispered.

x.X.x

Malik stared up at the stars through the opening in the ceiling, his hand tenderly running through Altair's hair.

He sang softly for the one he missed and to the one that he both loved and hated.

~And I walked on a path of hope, with the light of the moon

but when you smiled the wind blew and dusted off from my heart the sands of despair

Light of my eye~

~Authors notes~

This is my first ever fanfic and I hope it isn't too awful. Let me know what you think, some reviews or constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.

The song Malik is singing at the end is "Nour Enayyi (Light of My Eyes)" sung by Haaz Sleiman.

I used the literal english translation because I don't know how to write in Arabic, sorry.

Thanks for reading!