Iyad threw his door open and stomped inside, throwing his gloves off onto his desk. Fath followed him quickly and stood in the awkwardly in the doorway, watching the older boy run a hand through a head of black curls. He stood in front of the window, looking out around the castle.

"Shit." He cursed. Fath pursed her lips and frowned. "That's a bad word."

"Shut up."

Outside, the courtyard was still cleared. People were getting ready for group training; under instructors, children of the same rank would gather under one instructor and learn new skills together whether it be different forms of technique or new pieces of knowledge…sometimes both if the day was long enough.

Iyad took a short breath. He sat by the window, looking up at the clouds. Curious, Fath closed the door and went to join him. She stood behind him and tried not to make a sound.

"We're supposed to be in class right now." He huffed. Fath's eyes widened and turned to run, but he grabbed her arm and pulled. She fell to the floor. "It started a while ago…No use in going now." He let go of her arm and closed the window."Besides," He pulled a scroll from his desk and dropped it in her lap, annoyed, "I'm supposed to get you caught up to the rest of us." Fath picked the piece of information out of her lap and turned it around in her hands. The paper was old and scratchy.

"Do you live by yourself in here? Like Alty?"

"Who the hell is Alty?"

"Altair?"

"You—you gave Master Altair a nickname?" He choked.

"Alty doesn't mind."

"I'm sorry I asked…never mind." Iyad took the scroll away from her and yanked it open. It was a miracle that the parchment didn't tear. Inside were rows of different symbols. He showed it to her, took one look at her expression, and laughed.

"Master Kazim told me that you probably couldn't read…and that I needed to help teach you. It was either this or more chores." He explained. Fath shrunk away from him and pulled her knees up. Why did he always have to laugh at her?

Iyad eyed her for a moment before he set the scroll on the floor. He pulled it tighter and pointed to the first of many symbols, tracing the lines where they curved.

"Repeat after me."

It was late afternoon when the instructors out in around the village finally let the other novices go. Gray and white uniforms flooded the courtyard and swarmed around the training ring. The sky had grown increasingly dark since the moment they had first woken up. What started as a few clouds had turned into a war zone of gray. It hadn't snowed yet, though. Outside, Kazim and Tahir were fighting in the ring.

Fath glanced out and grinned. Kazim was winning. He was nice to her when they first met, but he was really quiet. She didn't really hear much about him—only that he was intelligent and skilled in close combat.

Tahir came down with his fist, aiming for his brother's shoulder, but Kazim blocked it at the last second. He retracted his hand and aimed for the same spot only with his other hand, but Kazim blocked that too. The crowd was going berserk.

Kazim's leg slid forward and crushed Tahir's foot, his elbow going straight to his brother's jaw, and they fell to the floor. They started to tumble with each other, arms locked, crowd jeering, silent insults, and Kazim's fist cracked against his brother's—

"Fath! Are you listening to me?" She turned around and regarded him sheepishly. After a moment, she finally sighed.

"Iyad, I don't want to learn anymore numbers."

She hated to sit still and listen to what he had to say, give examples, and write symbols down twenty times each. He explained how Kazim made him responsible for her because Altair was slacking off, how he was supposed to teach her the basics and help her through her studies. They'd started up some small talk here and there. Simple things like how long he had been a novice and how long she'd been living in Jerusalem. The answer to both was 'all my life'. Iyad was known for playing pranks all over the village, even in the castle; he told her about how he was an only child and how much he liked the water. In fact, he wouldn't shut up about it. He had a great life, but she couldn't help but see how knowledgeable he was for being only eleven. They had something in common then, but she decided that it would be better to keep quiet anyways.

"What did you do in Jerusalem?" He mumbled, handing her another piece of paper.

"Not a lot," was her reply. The parchment around them fluttered with the breeze coming in from the open window and some of the scraps flew to the far corner unnoticed. Iyad tossed his quill back onto his desk and let himself fall back into his pillows.

"Ha, that's specific." He said, rolling his eyes, "Keep writing." She did.

"The people there just weren't very kind."

"I wouldn't be if I were in the middle of a Crusade either."

"Can I stop now?" She whined, changing the subject. Iyad sat up and looked over her progress. After a moment or two, he stood up, content.

"Fine, but we're going to continue later." They rolled the scrolls back and returned them one of the cubbies on his desk. Being the only occupant in the room, he had double the space, like Altair. The only furniture he possessed was all basic: one desk, a bed, a chest, and a lone bookshelf. Everything was neatly kept—even the top of the bookshelf was dusted. The other, unused half of the room was dull and bare.

"Let's go." He said, shrugging on his armor.

"Go where?" she asked. Iyad grabbed her hand, but she snatched it back, keeping it close. Iyad raised an eyebrow at her and offered her a hand instead.

"To the village." he grinned. His eyes sparkled mischievously. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Won't we get in trouble though?"

"That's half the fun, idiot."

Ignoring the jab at her intelligence, she bit her bottom lip and cautiously stuck a hand out.

Iyad took his chance grabbed her, pulling her with him. She screamed that they forgot to close the door and he yelled back at her that if anyone stole anything he'd know, that it didn't matter, though she argued that it did. They got halfway down the hall when they bumped into a taller Assassin rounding the corner, causing them to skid to a halt. The figure bent down and picked Fath up, allowing Iyad to regain himself alone.

"Iyad, did you kidnap a village child?" the man asked. Fath glared up at him and balled her hands into fists.

"I'm an apprentice here. A novice." She stated. The Assassin grimly raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"You're rather feminine to be training here—"

"Go away, Mutasim." Iyad snapped, pulling her behind him. The older man scoffed.

"I believe you two bumped into me." he mused, "Who's her mentor?" he asked. Fath yelled indignantly, but the Iyad kept her quiet.

"I'm responsible for her. Now move." The three of them stood there for what seemed like hours then finally, he moved.

Iyad ignored her whispers of protest when he dragged her forward, because something wasn't right. Iyad was practically trying to fold her into his back. A shield. Was this man dangerous? What did he do? How did he know her name? Granted she was already known among most people since she was a girl in an all male order, but no one really knew her name anyways. She squeezed his hand.

"Let's go." He grumbled, yanking her back around him when they were finally in the clear. Down the hall, Mutasim was laughing. When they were far enough, she tried to stop him from running.

"Is he dangerous?" she asked warily. Iyad shook his head and started running again, letting go of her hand.

"Why did you want to leave so badly?"

"I didn't."

"But—"

"I didn't."

She huffed and gave an indignant snort. "Where are we going?" They both ran down a flight of stairs and quickly ran into the courtyard where a group of novices were training.

"To my mother's house." He mumbled.

"I thought you wanted to go—"

"Well, now I don't."

Fath pressed her lips into a line, annoyed, but followed him silently. They made their descent down the pathway towards the village, quietly sneaking around all the classes out training by the cliffs. The village was quiet today with the impending snow storm. The market only held a few of the regular merchants who busied themselves closing down their shops, the usual social groups who loitered around the middle of the village were absent, and the patrols were spread thin.

She followed closely at his side with as much patience as she could muster. He looked over at her and rolled his eyes. She had moments where she could be quiet and flustered or moments where she could be more mature for her age. It fluctuated.

They parted ways to make way for a shivering couple and regrouped when they had passed. Snow was beginning to make its way down from the heavens and it increasingly grew colder.

"There's going to be a storm." Iyad mumbled. Fath stared up at the sky and opened her mouth innocently, laughing. Iyad made a face. "What are you doing?"

"My friend back in Jerusalem told me that snow was just frozen water," She explained, "I'm thirsty." She fiddled with sleeves of her tunic and put up her hood. "It's pretty cold too. How much farther is your mom's house?" Iyad shrugged and turned abruptly.

"Oh, not much farther." He joked, opening the door and walking in. Fath followed silently and silently enjoyed the warmth from inside the house. A fire was blazing in the shabby brick stove on the opposite of the room, a pot of soup boiling noisily over the flame.

"Mom?" He called. There was a soft clunk from upstairs, some shuffling, and soon enough, a middle aged woman was making her way down the stairs. Her dark brown hair was tied back neatly in a floppy bow. Her dress was worn, brown with age and reached down to her ankles. In her arms, she held a cat who bounced lamely in her arms until she reached the last step.

"Iyad? You were here just yesterday." She smiled.

"I know, mom, but there's a storm coming and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Fath cocked her head to the side and observed. Well, this was a different side of him she hadn't seen.

"I'm fine. Shouldn't you be training right now?" Her voice took on a dark tone.

Iyad pursed his lips and thought for a moment. Behind him, Fath shut the door with a soft thunk and shyly stared at the ground.

"Oh—uh, mom, this is Fath." He stammered, changing the subject. His mother's eyes shifted away from her son and fell upon the smaller figure behind him. She set the cat down and it scampered away gracefully.

"It's not often you bring a friend home, Iyad." She walked towards the pot by the fire and went to stir. "Are you from the village, dear? Iyad, you should know better than to skip training to play." Iyad frowned at his mother.

"It's not my fault we missed. She needed help studying and the scholars were unavailable." He retorted. His mother wasn't impressed.

"What about her parents, couldn't they help her?"

"Mom, she isn't from the village. She's a new Novice at the castle." His mother stood up and took a good look at Fath, staring long and hard at her appearance before giving a small laugh.

"I apologize. I didn't see your uniform. Iyad, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Mother!"

She laughed and turned back towards the pot of soup. "I'm only teasing, calm down. Make yourselves at home, but just be back at the castle before the storm hits."

"Yes mom. May we have some soup before we leave?"

"Just a little."

"Thanks."

Iyad steered Fath roughly by the sleeve and sat her down while he dished them out two bowls of beef stew, his mother settling herself down to sew. Outside, the wind howled and pushed lightly at the front windows. Fath shivered.

Suddenly, the door swung open and a busty woman stumbled inside with a young child following quickly behind her. They both wore tattered old clothes similar to the rest of the village. The woman regained her footing, shoved the door closed, took a deep breath.

"My," she breathed, "the wind is picking up quite fast." The little boy at her feet rubbed at his arms and regarded the room with contempt. Iyad's mother gave her a tight smile, eyes cast down at her creation. Iyad, still doling out soup, didn't even blink.

"Hello Aadila*, Basil*. What brings you barging into my home this late in the day?" she drawled, clearly disinterested. Fath stared at them even while she accepted her share of stew. Iyad snapped his fingers in her face and growled.

"Don't stare, it's rude." He said through a mouthful of soup. Fath rolled her eyes and looked away. Aadila bent down and ruffled the snow from her son's hair and dusted her skirt.

"My husband and his friends are drunk in my house. Again!" Aadila spat. "You know how he gets. It's bad enough he drinks all the good alcohol, but to destroy the house with his friends in their splendor? I've had enough for today." She finished. Iyad's mother sighed.

"I supposed you'll be staying upstairs tonight again? You can't keep doing this."

"I know, I know. Just for tonight. Basil is scared out of his wits."

Fath peeked unknowingly over her shoulder at the young boy standing idly by the door and made a small face. He looked more annoyed than scared. Even Iyad's mother thought so when she down at the boy with a raised eyebrow. However, she reluctantly agreed and let them help themselves to soup as well.

"Did you hear?" she asked. Aadila glanced back at her.

"Hear what?"

"About Conrad?"

"Have I? HA!" Fath jumped and Iyad laughed. "Conrad of Montferrat…the coward. Hid behind his wife last year and pushed Guy of Lusignan out of Jerusalem for the kingdom just yesterday."

"Then he's the new King of Jerusalem then*?"

"Yes…Richard sold Guy the Lordship to Cyprus." Aadila drawled.

"I've also heard that Conrad's son is up to no good again too."

"Not again…last time we tangled with him our men came back either dead or completely soaked in red."

"Then there was poor Tahir who lost his wife during the siege," Iyad's mother mumbled, lowering her voice to a whisper. It was almost too low for Fath and Iyad to hear, "Didn't come out of his room for weeks I think. Some of the other women even said that his own brother didn't even bother to lift a finger." Aadila handed a bowl of stew to her son and scoffed.

"Well, I don't believe it! I see them speaking to each other every so often when I go up to help wash linens! If I was Tahir I wouldn't speak to him at all." She said. "Oh! Did I forget to mention that Lawaiza spilled her husband's drinking water yesterday and he—"

"Did you hear that, Iyad?" Fath hissed, shaking his arm; the soup in his hands sloshed out of the bowl and splashed into his lap. He cried out frantically rubbed at his leg. Fath grimaced and edged away from the mess. "I'm sorry." She whispered. When he calmed down, he stood up and bid his mother a goodnight, dragging her with him out into the snow.

"What the hell, Fath?" he cursed. The wind had picked up since Aadila's entrance minutes ago.

"Didn't you hear that?" she shouted. "Tahir lost his wife because of Kazim!" Iyad crossed his arms and started walking back towards the castle.

"Aadila also proved that it could be false." He yelled. Their hearing had lessened in the storm and they could barely hear each other.

"I want to ask Kazim about it!" Fath replied. Iyad laughed.

"You think he'd tell you? That's personal information!"

"What does personal mean?" She asked. They were nearing the beginning of the mountain to Masyaf's castle.

"It means—," he started, but he swallowed some snow and gagged, "—it means that he won't share it with you because he doesn't know you and you don't know him!"

"How do I get him to tell me?" she asked, stumbling forward, falling into the snow. Iyad hauled her up and used her upper arm to hold her steady. She followed him halfway up the first slope of the mountain and stumbled again. The boots she received from the novice were too worn; they had no traction on the wet roads. Iyad reached down for her and flung her onto his back with a grunt.

"You weigh, like, nothing!" He yelled, appalled.

"Why can't he tell me?" she asked again. Iyad gave another grunt and jogged the rest of the slope with difficulty.

"Because you've barely met." He explained, blinking snow out of his eyes. Fath buried her head in the crook of his shoulder and relished in the warmth when she breathed. She coughed into his shoulder and Iyad gave a sound of displeasure.

"Hey, stop that!" he scolded. Distracted, he suddenly slipped in the mud and plummeted face first into the ground, letting Fath tumble off into the snow to the side. Snow coated their hair, dirt rubbing onto their uniforms. She coughed again and sat up quickly, crawling to Iyad who got up with a groan.

"I hate the snow!" he bellowed, standing up and wiping slush out of his hair. Fath tried not to laugh as she yanked at his arm. The castle was in their sights now.

"C'mon, Iyad!" She yelled, pulling harder. Iyad stood up and slid a bit, but otherwise stood his ground. He picked her up again and carried them both up the path towards sanctuary.

"Where have you two been?" Kazim stared menacingly down at the two snow covered novices in the room adjacent to the mess hall. Outside, the blizzard roared on, covering the mountains and village below. Fath wrung her hands together nervously. Iyad stood idly with his hands behind his back, shoulders squared, face passive and bored.

Kazim folded his arms and looked at Fath. "Stand still while I'm talking." He snapped. Fath flinched and dropped her arms. She looked down at the floor with humiliation in her eyes.

"You two didn't show up for training, let along the first hour of dinner! Do you know how disrespectful that is towards your brothers and I?" They didn't answer. The wind outside punched at the windows and whistled through the cracks in the walls, blowing their uniforms to the side.

"I expected more out of you," He hissed, glaring at Fath, "and I should have expected this much from you, Iyad." The novice merely stared up at him. Fath's eyes watered.

"I'm sorry, Kazim." she mumbled.

"There is no sorry on the battlefield so there shouldn't be any at all. If you aren't going to take your training seriously then there is no reason why you should be here!" He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go to your rooms." Fath quickly turned and started down the hallway, Iyad following leisurely. "I can reassure you both that Al Mualim will be hearing of this." Kazim called after them, opening and slamming the door to the mess hall. The younger girl sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. She had to be stronger than this. Altair said that Assassin's didn't show emotion—that meant that she couldn't either. It was forbidden. She just had to be stronger than this.

"He doesn't mean it." said Iyad. Fath sniffed and glanced at him.

"Mean what?"

"He didn't mean what he said about expecting more from you. He lied."

"Why?"

"Because we broke the rules. He had to yell at us."

They both passed Al Mualim's study and turned down the hall leading to their tower. All the candles were lit in the halls, but it still felt like they were outside in the snow.

"Kazim doesn't punish his students physically like some of the other teachers here." He explained to her. "We don't know why, he just doesn't. Neither does his brother." They passed more rooms and more hallways. "No one asks about it, though. I asked Altair once, but he didn't answer." Fath frowned. " It's like everyone is afraid of each other here…we aren't brothers, we're more like enemies."

"I don't understand." She mumbled. Iyad rolled his eyes and led them up a flight of stairs.

"Of course you don't. You're only, what, nine?"

"I'm only a year younger than you Ten!"
"Yeah, but maybe you'll understand when you're older." He laughed. He was only a year older than her, but he was more intelligent. She'd get there eventually, he figured.

The two of them climbed the rest of the stairs in silence, staring out the windows when they could on their way up. The snowstorm was slowing down, but the force of the winds still attacked the fortress and snow was starting to build up. Iyad joked that they'd be lucky to get outside with all this snow. Fath stared at him in horror. When they reached Iyad's room, he bid her a goodnight and left her standing in the hallway.

She opened the door to Altair's room and went inside, yawning she found her mentor sitting at his desk, scrawling down information on a sheet of parchment. He didn't even glance up from his work.

"You're soaked." He said disapprovingly. 'It's snowing' was her reply.

She quickly changed clothing and tossed the wet uniform into a basket by the door. When she started to comb her hair with her fingers, she realized that maybe if she wanted to fit in more with the other students, she just had to look more like a boy. The first step to that would be to cut her hair. Cut her hair…

"Altair?" she mumbled, turning towards him. He had long since removed himself from his work to linger by the window. He glanced at her. She almost took it back, but no. She'd made up her mind a long time ago. "Would you help me cut my hair?" she finally asked, holding up her wet, brown locks. For a minute, he only blinked at her, but finally, without any questions, he retrieved a knife from his belt and sat behind her. It was like a weight had been lifted, literally.

Fath could feel every cut of the blade against her neck, every stroke. Hair fell in clumps to the floor, slowly building up in piles. She could feel the air on her neck, the air on her shoulders, the breeze on her forehead. It felt nice, different. Maybe she could get used to this. When he was done, Altair sheathed the knife and roughly dusted the hair off her back.

"Finished." He said. Fath grinned and ran her hands over her head. What used to be smooth and long was patchy and prickly. The back of her neck was smooth and hair free. What had her laughing was the way he cut the hair on the back of her head. It was uneven and rough; some patches were longer and some were shorter. She probably had a similar haircut to Altair now. He shook his head and gave her small smile. "You look like a boy."

"Good!" she quipped, shaking her head so little flakes of hair fell onto the ground. The older assassin only shook his head and glanced out the window. Fath smiled and stood up. "Altair?"

"What?"

"Can we train some more?"

AN: I'm sorry it's been so long, guys. School has been busy and I was sick for winter break. Here's chapter 10 though! I'll try and write more as fast as I can. The next chapter of Kazim's story in Everyone Has a Story to Tell is coming soon, I can tell you that. I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas and a happy New Year! :)Thank you so, so much for sticking with this story and thank you for all the follows and favorites. You guys make my day. 3

*Aadila (Just, Honest, Equal, Upright)

*Basil (Brave)

*Conrad of Montferrat was actually crowned King of Jerusalem in April, but I changed it to December for this story so it could fit the plot.

Stay Chill~