Alright, so in my modern assassin creed series, I very rarely touch upon the Altair/Malik ship… it's there, but I hardly ever talk about it.

So, what do you get when you cross an author who loves Disney crossovers and a loved OTP…. An Altair/Malik Beauty and the Beast crossover.

I hope you like it, and please read and review ?

…..

"AAAAHHHHH!" Altair glared at Malik, "That hurts!"

"Well if you just held still, it wouldn't hurt as much!"

"If you hadn't run away, this would never have happened!"

Malik snarled in frustration, "If you hadn't…. un-nerved me like that, that I wouldn't have ran away!"

"You shouldn't have been in the West Wing!"

"You should learn to hold your temper!"

Altair huffed and rolled over, his back facing Malik, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Get some rest…" he muttered, placing the wet cloth to one side and heading out the room, ignoring the different, named objects scattered around the room.

'Altair' he thought to himself, 'why did that name sound so familiar?'

As he headed towards his own room, Malik suddenly had flashes of training with another boy his own age, laughing as they rolled in the dust and sand. It was a happy memory, he knew that much, but he couldn't remember the name of the child.

"Stop it…" he muttered to himself, "… just focus on getting out of here."

….

Kadar groaned weakly as he felt a cup being placed against his lips, silently encouraging him to take a sip.

"Drink." A female voice gently ordered, tipping the cup a little bit more and pressing it harder into his lips.

Smelling the familiar scent of wine, Kadar gently sipped at it, colour returning to his cheeks when his senses started to come back to him. When he opened his eyes, he felt his breath practically leave his body.

This woman was stunning.

Her entire body seemed to glow, to the point where he couldn't really see her facial features.

"Thank you…" he muttered, still slightly weak from the head wound, "… May I ask your name?"

"…. Sleep Kadar. I will see you home safely."

….

Altair grunted when he heard someone panting by his bedside, rolling over to see what was going on.

He stared.

Malik was making his way through the sword movements and stances taught by the Creed, adjusting them slightly to make up for his missing arm…..and it was all done shirtless.

It was…. Well, to be honest, it was a stunning sight.

"Your leg could do with being a little more to the right." He interrupted, smirking as Malik glared at him, before making the adjustments.

"You know the stance?"

Altair smirked, "I used to be an Assassin as well… still am really." He then frowned, "I would have thought you'd prefer the more offensive stances?"

"… I'm sorry?"

"You were very quick to attack me… I thought you would prefer- "

"- having one arm makes the offensive stances a little harder to pull off. My sword arm may be strong, but the balance is never quite right."

"That's no excuse…" Slowly, Altair got to his feet and headed over to a cluttered desk against the opposite wall, "… I have something here…."

There were a couple minutes of frantic shuffling, before Altair emerged with a hook-like blade with a triumphant shout. He then quickly made his way over to Malik and grabbed his stump.

"Hey!" Malik protested, trying to pull back as Altair started to attach the strange device to his stump, wrapping long strips of leather around his arm and torso., "What are you- "

"- Stay still."

Eventually, Altair stopped and took a step back, admiring the device on Malik's arm. "There. What do you think?"

Malik glanced at the strange device. It was some sort of blade that had a hook on the end, designed much like the hidden blades that every Assassin was given.

"… What is it?"

"… A hook-blade. It can be used as a weapon, and to aid in climbing." Altair shrugged, "I made this one a little longer than necessary, but it'll probably work for you…. Do you wish to try it out?"

Malik couldn't summon up the words, blindly allowing Altair to take his hand and lead him outside, until they were standing at the bottom of the tower.

"The hook will latch onto loose bricks and holes in the tower, and then you'll be able to make it to the top easily."

Malik still didn't look sure.

"Come on…" Altair started to make his own way up the tower, glancing down and smiling at the other man, "… don't you trust me?"

"The man holds me prisoner and asks if I trust him…" Malik grumbled, taking a running leap at the tower and using the hook-blade to latch onto a loose brick. It was a slow process, but eventually, Malik found himself overtaking Altair as he sped up the tower, finally reached the roof and sitting on the ledge.

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, momentarily forgetting about the fact that he was a prisoner, "Did you really this?"

"Well…. She told me how."

Assuming that 'she' was referring to the orb, Malik chose to remain silent… it was a touchy subject after all.

"If you want to keep it, you can…" Altair continued, "… I can always make another one."

Outwardly, Malik simply nodded, almost looking disinterested in the proceedings…. Inwardly, he was jumping up and down in joy.

Maybe…. Maybe this whole prisoner thing wasn't so bad.

…

Over the next few days, Malik found himself paying more attention to Altair, trying to place where he'd heard the name before.

The other man had horrendous table manners, clearly not used to dining with people.

He was highly skilled at fighting, and yet, would go nowhere near any large pool of water. When asked why, Altair shuffled from side to side nervously. "I-I can't swim."

"… Really?"

"It's mostly sand and stone in these areas, I never felt it would be needed!"

As the days passed by, Malik started to build up a picture of the other Assassin. There was something sweet, almost kind about the other man…. He'd clearly not had any contact with anyone else in years, so he was a bit unsure.

There was something there, that Malik hadn't seen before.

….

Little did Malik know, Altair was having his own thoughts about the other man in his home.

Malik was acting differently, not criticising every little thing he did, not scowling at him from across the room… in fact, the other man seemed to be smiling at him more.

Altair tried to act natural, tried to ignore it.

But it was nice to see Malik smiling at him for once.

….

This was new… new and bit alarming.

Watching Altair train was causing new… feelings in Malik, and he wasn't sure if he particularly liked them. Prisoners shouldn't start to like their captives, it didn't work like that, it should never work like that!

Altair was mad, so what did that make Malik?

Although, maybe Altair wasn't as mad as he made out to be.

On one occasion, as he was walking through the gardens, he spotted Altair training under a stone arch.

"Your left arm's not up high enough."

Altair smirked at the sly jab, adjusting his position as Malik walked closer,

"And here I though a Master assassin would be able to perfect that pose…. Are you sure you're not a lost novice?"

"Alright, alright…" Altair groaned, moving into a rest pose, "… you do have a sense of humour then."

There was a brief moment of silence, before Malik sighed, "Look…. I never thanked you. For saving my life."

"Well… I never thanked you for not leaving me to be found by more soldiers." Altair chuckled, "That… that would have been unfortunate."

"Hmmmm…. I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Oh?"

"What rank were you? In the Creed?"

Altair seemed stunned by the question, a brief silence following it on, before he turned away, almost in shame. "I was a Master Assassin…. Something… something happened, and I was banished here. Forced to look after the Piece of Eden I'd almost lost and forced to work my up from novice once again."

"Why?" Malik suddenly had a horrible feeling in his stomach, "Why were you banished here?"

"… I don't remember."

It was obvious that Altair was concealing the truth from him, but Malik chose not to comment, the pair falling into a slightly tenser silence.

"Can I ask you something?"

Malik knew what the man was going to ask but nodded in agreement anyway.

"How did you lose your arm?"

"… I was on a mission..." Malik sighed, "… I can't remember what it was for, and I can't remember who I was with. Kadar was meant to be on the mission, but he was still too young and the mission too dangerous. Something went wrong…. My arm was apparently crushed under some fallen rock and had to be removed… "

"… Were you the only survivor?"

Malik shook his head, "I know I was helped home by one person from my team…. The Grandmaster told me as much and it was the other Assassin who broke our rules and led to the mission failing…. They won't tell me what happened to him."

He then chuckled self-deprecatingly, "It wasn't even my fault that I became like this, but the Creed still shuns me for it."

"… I'm sorry."

Malik frowned in confusion, "Why? It wasn't your fault?"

Wince.

"Altair… what aren't you telling me?"

There was a tense silence, before Altair got to his feet and gestured for Malik to follow him. "I… I have something to tell you."