In Feathers and Fatherhood

Chapter 1

A/N: Hi guys. So this is a little something I started to write a while back and just found again recently on my computer so I decided to upload it. When I say started to write, I mean a couple of years ago so I won't make any false promises of finishing it, although I still have the finished plan (aim of approx 10,000 words) so I certainly hope I can. Anyway this is my first Assassin's Creed fic and I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy it too! Thanks for taking the time to read it and I would love to hear what you think of it so reviews are greatly appreciated :) - Hydroxypropanone

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'What do we do with it?' Altaïr asked Malik blankly as they both stared down at the thing cradled in Malik's arms.

'I don't know. But we can't just leave it. Perhaps we should take it back to the castle. Someone must know what to do.' Malik mused.

'You are joking?' Altaïr questioned, glaring at Malik from under the peak of his hood and folding his arms in disbelief.

'Then what do you suggest? Malik replied in a sharp tone.'We don't have anywhere else to take it. We should take it back to the castle and deal with the situation there. Best it not be out in the heat much longer. It may fall ill.' Malik looked up and over to Altaïr to see if he agreed to the plan, only to find another glare in his direction. Malik sighed.

'I am doing this with or without you Altaïr. Now are you coming or not?' Altaïr made a noise of disgruntlement and didn't move from his position, watching Malik as he walked over to his horse, then stopped, trying to figure out how to get on the horse without dropping the thing in his arms. He looked pleadingly towards Altaïr, who shook his head vehemently in response and leaned back against his own horse, which woke with a slight startle from the touch and trotted backwards, displacing Altaïr and toppling him to the floor.

Malik laughed aloud as Altaïr landed heavily with a noisy 'oomph.' That earned him another glare as Altaïr got up with as much dignity as he could and brushed himself off, clutching at his side. 'Fine, I'll hold it.' He growled, making a show of his displeasure. Malik beamed at him gratefully, holding his arms out to offer the thing to Altaïr , who took two steps forward before pausing, moving his arms in awkward motions, deciding how best to hold the thing.

Altaïr took it gingerly from Malik's arms and held it out in front of him, hands circling under the thing's arms; it's legs dangling towards the ground. Altaïr brought the thing closer to his face and inspected it as Malik climbed onto his horse and made his preparation for travel.

Suddenly, the things eyes opened, awakened from its slumber and stared silently back at Altaïr with huge brown round eyes. The assassin jumped in surprise, and jerked his hands back away from his face, holding the baby out at a distance whilst moving his head back from it as if repelled.

'Give me it here Altaïr' Malik commanded, sighing, as Altaïr continued to hold the baby out awkwardly in front of him as if it was diseased. Altaïr narrowed his eyes at it and the baby held his gaze for a few seconds before tipping its head back and opening its mouth, letting out a wail of displeasure. Altaïr yelped in shock and he almost dropped it.

'Take it' he commanded hurriedly, lobbing it towards Malik's waiting arms as he passed, who had to dive his upper body down as the baby arced through the air towards the horse, managing to curl his arm around the bundle before it's inevitably down-curve toward the ground, and possible broken limbs. He brought it to his chest, clinging to it protectively and gently cooing at it so that it would calm down, a disapproving frown fixed on his face aimed toward the other assassin.

'Be careful Altaïr! This is a child you're handling, not an orange!' Malik told Altaïr sternly as he watched the other assassin walk very briskly to his horse some distance away, keeping eye contact away from the crying thing lest it eat him alive.

Malik rocked the baby gently in his arms as he watched Altaïr check the straps on the saddle of his horse, and noted how he clutched at his side again as he bent down. 'You are injured' Malik noted as Altaïr struggled onto his horse, panting slightly with the effort.

'It is nothing.' Altaïr replied once he had regained his breath. But not wanting to show his weakness: 'I'll be fine.'

'Be that as it may, we should hurry back to Masyaf.'

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The baby fell asleep and the journey back to Masyaf flew by surprisingly quick considering the pace. Usually Altaïr tended to throw caution to the winds and sacrifice safety for speed, careening at breakneck speed across the darkening landscape with such a casual disregard for the privilege of intact bones that it made Malik's stomach churn. However this time Malik had insisted that they travel more slowly so that the rocky ride wouldn't wake the baby up and cause it to cry ; a suggestion which Altaïr was too happy to oblige.

Dusk was just falling as they arrived at the city gates, dismounting from their horses. Altaïr grasped the leather straps attached to both horses bridles and led them over to a stone pool so they could rehydrate themselves after the long ride back.

Malik stood waiting under the shadow of the gate, fussing over the now awake baby in his arms. Thirsts quenched, they walked through the village and up to the castle in silence, Altaïr still holding his pained side with his free hand, but determined to keep a minimum of five steps ahead so that he didn't have to turn back and see one of the brotherhood's best assassins being turned into a pile of cooing mess. It was quite disturbing if nothing else.

The assassin who guarded the entrance to the castle gate smiled in greeting as Altaïr and Malik reached the top of the hill and proceeded into the courtyard ahead. 'Greetings Altaïr. How was the trip?'

'Don't ask' Altaïr replied grumpily, waving his hand dismissively as Malik and the baby followed through, causing the guard's eyes to widen in surprise. 'I know you said we needed new recruits Altaïr but this one's a little young don't you think?'

'It's not mine. Talk to Malik.' Altaïr grumbled defensively, carrying on through the courtyard, passing the reins of the horses over to an eager novice before proceeding into the cool castle entrance where torches hanging in brackets cast flickering shadows onto the walls.

Heads swivelled towards the two men when they passed and Malik jogged to catch up with Altaïr's great strides, baby still in hand. 'They are all staring at us.' Malik whispered in Altaïr's ear, his head ducking low as many pairs of curious eyes watched them, feeling as if he were being conspired against.

'Of course they are.' Altaïr scoffed. 'They all think you're a baby snatcher.'

'Me?!' Malik said, shocked.

'Well I didn't snatch the baby.'

'I didn't snatch it. I saved it' Malik muttered moodily.

'And I suppose you'll be looking after it?' Altaïr enquired, as they climbed up a set of wide, stone stairs.

'Ahh, about that Altaïr…' Altaïr stopped dead in his tracks outside his bed chamber door and turned slowly to face Malik, lips pressed tight together.

'I must set out again tomorrow Altaïr. It cannot wait I'm afraid, so it seems that you will be looking after it.'

'That is not possible for me either.' Altaïr answered quickly 'I too have a mission to attend to.'

'No you don't.' Malik retorted.

'It is a private matter: a favour for a friend.'

'You don't have any friends.'

'Not a friend. The tailor.'

'You only own two sets of robes.'

'Exactly!'

'Next you'll be telling me you're going for a swim!' Malik accused, handing the bundle of blankets containing the baby over and pressing it forcefully into Altaïr's arms whose cheeks flushed pink. 'Just take it. You can't do anything useful to the brotherhood until you recover from your injuries but I'm sure even you can handle a baby. I will be back in a few days. Until then, handle it.' Malik turned his back abruptly before Altaïr could muster a reply, and hurried down the corridor and around a corner, leaving Altaïr to care for the bundle alone.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

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For the fifth time that night Altaïr was woken by a loud noise. And for the fifth time that night, Altaïr became very close to moving bedchambers. He rolled over in the bed, lifting the soft pillow and putting it over his head, wrapping it tightly around his ears to try and block out the awful sound of wailing.

'Khallas!' Altaïr shouted angrily through the pillow. He wouldn't be a popular one tomorrow. The thing probably had every assassin in the castle awake by now with its cries echoing off the walls of the stone passageways. Altaïr grumbled into his pillow as the crying died down then ceased once more.

Tomorrow was going to be a very long day indeed.