1189AD
I always knew there was a reason I hated Damascus' rich district. It's not so much the people. Oh no, they're just fine. It just so happens that the overabundance of guards happens to make any operations the assassins attempt completely impossible without sending more than two. Which is exactly the situation Malik and I have found ourselves in. The master tasked us with stealing a confidential document from the merchant king's palace. We got in and out alright, but our lookout, that slime-ball, Abbas, was off doing who the hell knows what, and an archer spotted us. Now, there's an entire platoon of guards on our tails and I do not care what the master says, when I find him, Abbas will have his neck wrung!
I heard a 'twang' and barely dodged an arrow aimed at my head. I drew a throwing knife and put the archer down. Things couldn't have gone without bloodshed this time, could they? No, of course not! Fortune never ceases in her quest for blood. Another dodged arrow had me nearly lose my footing, only for my wonderfully timed partner to catch me around the waist and turn the clumsy fall into a graceful leap of faith into a convenient haystack. He slid out of the hay, pulling me with him toward a shadowed alley, a laundry line visible on the other side. He grabbed a blue dress and handed it to me.
"Lower your hood and play along."He whispered, lowering his hood and pulling a green cloak over his robes. I could hear the guards clambering noisily overhead and hastily complied, pulling the damp dress over my head and adjusting my bindings under my robes just so. I lowered my hood and let my long braid tumble over my left shoulder. Malik cast a brief glance around, then guided us to the mouth of the alley. A peek out showed me the guards scouring the street, swords drawn, with some even looking in the most idiotic, mundane places. One spotted us, and was moving to turn toward us. I tensed, ready to draw a throwing knife, when a soft hand on my face stopped me. Gentle fingers combed through the ends of my hair, tucking it out of my eyes. When I looked up into his face, he lifted a finger to his lips, and I relaxed. It was a rouse to throw the guards off. I see.
His hand cupped my cheek, thumb rubbing it gently. I laid my arms around his neck and gazed up at him through my lashes. He slowly leaned in, and just as our lips brushed, a jolt of pleasant heat shot up my spine. All of a sudden, a hand came between us.
"Alright, lovebirds, save it for the haystacks if you're that desperate."Said the guard, causing his companion to snicker. The leader guffaws at the pout I give, then they saunter away.
As to not rouse suspicion, Malik pulls me from the alley, leading me by the hand toward the bureau. As we get closer, I bring my fingers to my lips, remembering the feel of his on my own. Would it be so bad? To be with a man? The stories couldn't be true, right?
We came up on the building of the bureau, however with all of the guards around, using the roof entrance would be suicide. Malik lead me around the side of the building and knocked on the side door. A moment later, it creaked open, but to my bewilderment, there was nobody there! Well, until I looked down. There, wearing a miniaturized version of the Rafiq uniform, was a very...short man. He was very old, with a gray, nearly white beard, and an extremely bald head. I've never seen such an old man!
"What do you think you are doing, coming around this way, Al-sayf? And with a woman no less? We are not running a whorehouse here, boy! Take your trollop so-"he cut himself off as he got a good look at my face, "Altaire! Look at you! The spitting image of your mother! And just as beautiful! Forgive me for the mistake. My eyes are not what they used to be, my dear!" I smiled at the flattery and gave the standard salute. He chuckled and stood aside. We slunk inside and out from behind the counter. I was wary of the younger Rafiq, though. I hadn't seen him before, and he made me nervous. I was exposed for what I was. Would he help me? Or use it against me? I didn't have to wonder for long, however.
"Jafar! Stop leering at our pretty young guest! You'll scare her off!"The Dai squawked. I flushed at being called pretty. I'm nothing special to look at...
"My apologies, Master. I did not mean to stare, Altair. I will not tell a soul, I swear. Though I must say, you are a ravishing young lady."He bowed and I am fairly certain my face went from pink to crimson when he took my hand in his and brushed his lips over it. As if sensing my embarrassment, Malik cleared his throat and tossed a glare in Jafar's direction, annoyance in his gaze, and something else.
Is he...
.
.
.
Jealous?
It was later that night and I was lounging on the cushions. Malik was out looking for the slimeball and I was taking the time to comb my hair while I had the chance, my armor and weapons in a neat pile in the corner. Jafar could be heard flitting about in the main room, doing things, humming contentedly. I felt his curious gaze land on me every now and then, but he said nothing. Something I was immensely grateful for.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone landed noisily in the cushions next to me. I tensed when they moved toward me clumsily, drunkenly. I started to shuffle toward my weapons when I was pinned to the floor, my wrists held above my head. In the dim light, I was barely able to make out the slimeball's flushed face, soured further with a lecherous grin. I squirmed and twisted in his hold, only for the wind to be forced from me as he sat on my stomach heavily.
"-Hic- Not so h-high and mighty now -hic- are you, bitch?"He sneered, pulling at my robes, straining the stitching that kept them closed. I gasped and kicked my legs when he squeezed my breast roughly through their bindings. He laughed at my struggling and adjusted himself.
"Stop struggling and you might enjoy yourself, bitch."He said as his fingers trailed down to my trousers. I closed my eyes and tensed, then heard something crash right in front of me. Cracking an eye open, I saw blood splattered against the wall in small droplets, and Abbas tumbling backwards to the floor. I looked up and saw Jafar standing there, his hands covered in bloody scratches. I don't know when I had started shivering. Perhaps it was the realization that he almost took me, like that night so many years ago. Perhaps it was the relief, and utter humiliation, that someone had to intervene yet again. At this point, I started shivering harder, remembering the comparison of Abbas' breath to that of my father's on the night he took my voice forever. That brush with death, that identical demoniac smile the two shared. The horrid stench of some vile brew nearly glistening in the air with it's potency on their breath.
The memories flashed before my eyes over and over, and everything went white.
Jafar knelt down next to the trembling form of Altair as Malik dropped into the bureau, concerned. Seeing the disquiet of both the young Rafiq and his companion, he quickly followed suit.
"What happened?"He asked. Jafar scowled.
"Sofian fell into the garden, drunk, and very nearly impaired our friend, here."Malik looked to the shards of broken pot on the floor, then to the Rafiq's hands.
"You're bleeding."He pointed out. Jafar scoffed.
"Your partner is catatonic and you're bothering with me? What's wrong with your head, fool? Help me, here!"Malik rolled his eyes at the reprimand and sat against the wall, pulling Altair's quaking form into his arms. He ran his fingers through her hair and she slowly relaxed, eventually falling asleep against his chest. By that time, Jafar had bandaged hid hands and Abbas' head, having taken pity on the fool. He sat next to Malik, relaxing into the cushions somewhat bonelessly.
"So tell me, brother. What made her react so?"Jafar asked. Malik looked over lazily.
"I do not know the whole story, however, seven years ago, when she was just a novice, Abbas was drunk and nearly took her. I only know this because I am the one who stopped him."He explained.
"And the other assassins wonder why it is the master has so strictly forbidden the consumption of alcohol in the fortress. It is fools like Abbas who give our order a bad name."Jafar shook his head in disgust. Malik sighed.
"Rest assured. He will be punished."
"Good."
It was two days later that saw Malik and I standing before the master. Abbas had been left in the head healer's tender care and would not be leaving it any time soon if she had any say. Malik gave his report, backed up by Jafar's messenger pigeon, and the master stroked his beard, contemplative.
"I see. This is most disappointing. That one of our own would be so foolish as do become intoxicated on a mission not once, bit multiple times. The choice is clear. Journeyman second rank Abbas Sofian will be reassigned to guard duty until further notice."He decided. I felt relief wash up my spine. With him confined to Masyaf, I'd see much less of him.
"Thank you, Master."Malik said and we bowed.
"If there is nothing else, then be on your way. I have much work to do." With the blatant dismissal, we left the tower, awash with ease. He'd never touch me like that while sober. I'm safe. Passing through the courtyard, I saw Rauf was out in the ring with the novices. He took notice of us and beckoned us over.
"My friends, it seems my students do not understand what it is to wield a blade. Perhaps you could show us what you know?"He asked, and the novices bounced excitedly. Malik and I shared a look, then grinned, drawing our swords.
"Sure, why not?"Malik answered as we stepped into the ring. I sent Rauf a wild grin.
'Prepare to lose!'I gestured, and he came at me. The rush of battle, even one where lives were not at stake, never felt so good.
For once, life was good.
A/N: Hello, again my darlings! I have brought you another chapter! I am glad you like the revamp, so I'll continue with it. I'll start with the main story soon. You must be tired of fillers by now.
That reminds me. I have a few crossoverish ideas for when I am done with this story.
Options are:
AC+Swan princess sort of thing
AC+ Oban star racers sort of
AC+12 rounds modern AU
Review and tell me what you think?
Safety and peace, my lovelies!