This is a Altair/OMC story, so slash all the way. Since I've noticed I never get anything done, I decided upon taking another path to story-writing: drabbels. Honestly, it works much better. So every chapter will contain a few of these drabbles, but don't be confused about the timeline that may take a swerve to the right, left and back again. Anyways, any review welcomed, constructive reviews loved and enjoy the story my friends!


1. The new old

Rumors spread that Rauf had come back with one of Altair's classmates. He had been clutching onto the older Assassin's robes when they passed the gates of Maysaf and had refused to let go, screaming frantically and kicking out in vain when others pulled him off, until he was knocked out and carried inside. From the top of the fortress, Altair had watched it all.

He should have been executed for treachery, but nothing of that sort happened. Instead, only days later, the novice stood in front of the dorms doors. He was to be one of Altair's roommates, like he had been before. The bed that had found a new occupant in the time of two months was emptied without questions for it's former owner.

No one dared to ask about the bloody and torn robes the boy had worn at his return.

It did not escape Altair when Hatim first stood in the back of the training ring again, keeping to himself in silence. Others seemed to take a bit longer to notice. Which was not really a surprise, considering Hatim was strangely mute and calm, not even speaking to Abbas, who could be considered his friend beforehand, about what had happened on his adventure. He only stood hidden among their brothers, face solemn and watching.

It was strange. Altair had recalled him different, even remembered getting into a quarry with the boy, which had ended up with Hatim's face smothered into the stones, spitting insults at Altair he had not even known of before.

"You think you are so strong?!", the boy had yelled, struggling to free himself from Altair's grip, "Swallow your pride, you dullard, and make sure you don't get poisoned in your sleep like the incompetent, insufferable, impotent bastard you are!" His face scrunched when Altair pushed him down harder. "Dakhlah killah, kehbel!* May you be struck by a shoe!"

After a while, the insults had given in to furious screams as Hatim had struggled and battled fiercer than before, an animal in a steel grip. When the older novices had separated them, Altair had seen how Hatim's face was scratched up and bloodied on one side from being pushed into the stones with too great force. To some, Hatim then looked fearsome, the dirty blood running down into his crazy eyes and down his neck to stain his uniform, flying in pink droplets with every breath he pushed out of his lungs. Altair had not feared him in any way, not when you could see the rage and the emotions clouding his good judgment. It was no sign of a good Assassin.
But now, when Hatim attended his classes, Altair felt a shiver run down his spine. There was nothing left of the animal he had pushed into the dirt besides of the light scars he still wore. When he looked into the boy's eyes now, which turned to him when he noticed himself being watched, they were cold.

The eyes of a cold-blooded killer.


*Push it all in, bitch!