I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it will be broken into three parts within it. Please send me reviews! They make every word that I write worth it!

Safety and Peace,

~Ballistic Babydoll

Updated 2/19/16

Chapter fourteen

Part one: New Prospects

It was found out the next morning that Abbas had ordered his inferiors to aid him in attempting to kill Sam. They spent three days in the fortress dungeons. The students had learned their lessons, but it was deemed by Al Mualim that Abbas' punishment was not yet over. For three weeks the high ranked assassin was forced to work in the kitchens to bake with the women, and for two of those weeks he also was made to wash clothes with them.

Abbas did not take the blow to his pride lightly, and rather than being humbled by the experience he became only surlier. His contempt for Samantha grew exponentially.

After the wound Sam had received wasn't deep, so she and Altaïr were able to continue with assassinations as they normally would have. Neither of them mentioned anything to the other about what had happened in the recovery room, but it stayed in the back of their minds. Nothing hindered Altaïr, though, and his training was just as vigorous as it had been before. Samantha was no mere novice anymore, but had begun to best even Kadar and many of the other assassins of his rank.

Al Mualim was impressed, and made note to Altaïr that she may soon rise from the rank of novice.

Altaïr and Samantha had been in Masyaf for three days since their last mission, much longer than they usually stayed in between assassinations.

"I dunno," Sam spoke after taking a sip of her wine, "Altaïr hasn't said anything about a new mission at all."

"That's weird," Amy commented as she tapped her finger lightly against her chin.

The two women were seated at a long wooden table in the dining hall, eating their lunch languidly and chatting.

"Not very."

Sam noticed as her friend's face lit up with joy as Malik took a seat across from them.

"How so?" she asked and rested her chin in her palm.

"The trade caravans will be passing through Masyaf within a fortnight or less, most likely. I'm sure Altaïr would not wish to miss the festivities that will follow."

"Really? Altaïr, festive?" Sam asked, her eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"You would be surprised. When there is enough ale and wine going around many of the most hardened assassins will drop their blades to dance with the village maidens." Malik sent Samantha a sly wink and a grin in Amy's direction.

"That would imply that they are maidens," Amy nudged Sam, "not dirt encrusted fighters!"

The blonde pouted and ran her hand through her long dirty locks, still damp with the sweat she had worked up with training not even an hour ago. "It's not my fault I have to train every waking hour of the day!"

"Perhaps a bath and a dress would suit you better during the festivities," Malik offered.

"I could always ask Arianna," Samantha contemplated as she pushed around the sliced potatoes on her plate with a spoon.

"I am sure she would appreciate you visiting," Malik agreed, "and to see you in a dress! She may faint in shock!"

"Haha," Sam said mockingly, "we're all laughing. Malik."

"Laughing about what?"

Sam nearly choked on the potato slice she had just popped into her mouth at the sudden voice so close to her.

"Kadar!" Malik greeted his brother with open arms as he took a seat next to him.

"Brother, it is good to see you!" A grin stretched across the younger boy's face.

"Good to see you too!" Amy teased. Kadar had long known about his brother and the woman, so he had become almost like a little brother to her as well.

"It has been awhile Amy, has this oaf been treating you well?" He asked and playfully punched his elder brother's arm.

"Well enough," the copper haired woman giggled in response.

"Quite a fight you gave me today Samantha." Kadar had turned his attention to the her.

"Thanks," she smiled, "You nearly had me when I was backed against the fence."

"Yet you always manage to slip away perfectly! No doubt due to Altaïr's training."

"I guess so," Sam rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. Despite how hard he was on her Altaïr was still a great teacher.

"Anyways," Malik interjected, "we were just speaking about the trade caravans arriving and suggested Samantha make use of a dress for the occasion."

"That would indeed be a sight for sore eyes," said the younger brother sincerely.

Sam could feel heat creep up on her neck and she decided that it was time to leave before this conversation got any more embarrassing. She didn't know why everyone had to make a big fuss about her wearing a dress; it wasn't like it had never happened before.

"Well I won't get a dress if I don't visit Arianna," she stood abruptly, "Come on, Amy."

Amy rolled her eyes and walked over to Malik placing a kiss on his forehead. "I'll see you soon, be sure to keep this one out of trouble," she said lightly as she ruffled Kadar's dark locks.

"What's up with you?" The auburn haired woman asked as she caught up with her friend.

"Nothing," Sam answered distractedly.

"Don't lie to me," Amy teased.

"I just don't know why Kadar is showing this sudden interest in me," she huffed. "I mean did you hear him? 'That would be a sight for sore eyes' I'm still the same person even if I put on a dress."

"Yes," Amy admitted, "I know you are, but you know men. They're easily distracted by nice clothes on a hot woman." She winked at her friend, teasing her further.

Sam rolled her eyes, but even as she did she recalled the first time she had seen the younger assassin in a romantic way.

She had been sitting in the entranceway of the Damascus bureau and Altaïr had already retired to his quarters.

The woman had been startled when a dark shadow had dropped down in front of her from the open hole in the lattice roof.

"Kadar!" She greeted once she had recognized the man's face.

It took him a moment longer to realize who had spoken to him, "Sam?"

"Yes," she smiled, "or Samantha if you'd like. I don't think we've spoken since I was first introduced to you."

Kadar laughed lightly and joined her on the floor. "To think I thought you were a man!" he exclaimed, "How wrong I was! You surprised everyone when it was revealed that you were a woman."

Sam laughed. "Some people weren't too happy about it either."

"I admire your courage," he told her sincerely, "very few women would even consider becoming an assassin."

"Courageous or foolish, call it what you want," she joked and began feeling more relaxed around the man.

"Foolish or no, you are being trained by one of the very best assassins. You must feel honored."

Samantha rolled her eyes, Kadar was such a fanboy. "Honored that the troll sleeping next door hasn't woken and tried to eat me yet is more like it."

Kadar laughed, and she found that she liked the way his nose cutely scrunched up when he did.

"Your jesting will only give him more cause to!" He jokingly berated her.

"What can he do to me? I'm an assassin now remember?" She teased and threw one of the pillows at the assassin across from her.

The pillow hit Kadar square on the nose and he blinked confusedly as it fell in his lap. The man the grabbed the pillow and looked up at her with impish delight written across his face.

"Oh no," she warned him and shook her finger back and forth, "you are not going to start a pillow fight with me."

Before Samantha could ready her defense the pillow sailed in the air towards her, she flinched away as it hit the side of her head. Moments later an all out fight had begun with the two assassins dodging and throwing pillows at each other. Eventually Sam felt a hand wrap around her wrist just as she was about to throw another pillow, but she found that the assassin who had just been on the other side of the small entrance was now in front of her. Sam looked up and her eyes met bright blue orbs staring back at her.

They stood there for a moment, both slightly out of breath, and continued to study each other from their close proximity. The two seemed to realize at the same time what they had been doing.

"You know, I think I hear Altaïr calling me," Samantha turned her head away as a blush reached her cheeks.

"Yes, and, um. I should check in with the Dai." Kadar released her wrist, also turning a shade of red.

Both assassins turned to walk out of the room simultaneously and ended up getting stuck in the doorway with their combined width.

"After you," Kadar stepped back.

"Thanks," Sam mumbled, embarrassment lacing her voice as she rushed through the doorway and down the hallway to her room.

"What about Altaïr?" Amy's question pulled Samantha from her thoughts.

"How is it you manage to always bring him up?" Sam frowned. "Look, nothing has happened since that day in the infirmary. He's obviously not interested."

"Not until he see's you in a dress." Amy said slyly.

Samantha groaned at her friend's antics.

"Arianna will do a great job, she always does," her friend reassured her. "Plus you know you don't have to go if you don't want to."

"No, I do want to go and have fun. I just don't want any drama to happen. I left that shit behind in high school."

The two approached the matron's door and Rana answered after they had knocked. "Can I help you?"

"We were just wondering if we could get a dress made for Samantha." Amy said politely.

"No," the younger girl answered, "my mother is ill and is indisposed at the moment."

"Nonsense!" Arianna appeared behind Rana. Her appearance was haggard and she had dark circles beneath her eyes. "I've waited a long time for you to need a dress; thank goodness I had made one many months ago!"

Sam and Amy were welcomed into the home and sat on the provided cushions within the sewing room. They watched as Arianna searched through a chest, her hands visibly shaking as she did so.

"Ah! Here it is, I absolutely love this dress! You know, I would have never thought of these kind of designs had it not been for Amy, and they are lovely."

"Thank you Renaissance Faire," Amy whispered under her breath.

Samantha sent her friend a small smile.

"Well, come here, dear!" the older woman beckoned her over, "Change behind this curtain so we may see how it looks on you."

The dress was pressed into the blonde's hands and she headed to change. She found that also within the pile of clothes was a cream colored corset, luckily it was not bone-crushing and uncomfortable. Rather, it only hugged her closely and supported her breasts in such a way that put her meager chest bindings to shame. She was reminded that she still had her bra stored away in her room, but the corset seemed more appropriate.

Sam was at a loss for words that could possibly describe such beautiful needlework and craftsmanship. Her dress was a deep maroon color, hardly proper for springtime, but was richly embroidered around the draping sleeves and dipping neckline with gold thread. She could scarcely imagine how many hours Arianna and her daughters must have slaved over such a fine dress.

As Samantha gazed into the polished metal 'mirror' her eyes welled up in tears. She had not felt this attractive since she had arrived in this time, even with her mussed up hair and dirt smeared face. The feeling was akin to what she had felt standing in front of her mirror back home in her prom dress during her senior year of high school.

The woman swallowed thickly and forced herself to stop thinking about such things.

"Samantha are you dressed yet?" Amy called.

With a small sigh Sam pushed aside the curtains and strode forward, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

"I would ask one small favor of you before you depart," Arianna spoke softly to the two women as they stood on the doorstep.

"Anything," Sam readily agreed.

"My husband worries for my health, Amy, if you could maybe find out why I am so sick I would truly appreciate it."

Samantha briefly wondered who Arianna's husband was, as she couldn't recall ever meeting him.

"Of course," Amy put her hand lightly on the older woman's shoulder, "Sam and I owe you so much for the kindness you have shown us."

"I love my daughters dearly, and you two as if you were my own."

The younger women warmly embraced the elder, each mumbling 'thank you' and appreciative words.

"I will meet with you tomorrow morning and see if I am able to help you at all." Amy told Arianna as they departed.

Part two: Stolen dance

Nearly a week passed and news of the caravan's early arrival was spreading like wildfire through the town of Masyaf. Preparations began in a frenzy of bright ribbon, party tents, and last minute touches to anything shopkeepers in the small town wanted to sell to the traders. Though the bustle of everyone was exciting, Altaïr warned Sam not to stray from her training. She obliged, not wanting to argue with the assassin and risk spoiling the light mood that had settled even within the fortress of assassins.

Quite suddenly, in the middle of the second week, the trading caravan arrived and the merry-making began promptly.

"Aren't you excited?" Amy asked, a huge grin plastered from ear to ear on her face.

Samantha and Amy were in Sam's room getting ready for the festivities of the night. Each of them dressed in beautiful dresses and with soft slippers on their feet.

Amy wore a deep green dress, embroidered similarly to that of Samantha's. Her auburn hair had been pulled back into a neat bun by Sam and had a few flowers pinned into it.

Samantha wore Arianna's red dress with pride, her blonde hair fell down her back in waves and a few locks were tastefully braided.

She looked over to her friend and smiled warmly. "Of course I'm excited!"

The two women shared a grin before making sure their gowns were smoothed before exiting Sam's cramped room.

As they passed the main gates and began their descent from the fortress music could be heard floating up from the city below. The town was lit brightly with torches and candles, people were talking and laughing boisterously and sharing drinks over trade and tales of travels.

Sam felt as if she couldn't get to the party fast enough. She wished to run down the hill and join everyone in their fun, but she forced herself to walk calmly down the winding path next to Amy, lest she ruin the dress Arianna had worked so hard to make for her. It was not very long before the two arrived at the base of the hill where an assassin still stood guard. Sam sent her friend a sly grin before lifting up her skirts slightly higher and darting towards one of the tents that had been set up.

"Wait up, Sam!" Amy called over the music that had just picked up pace once more.

Samantha rushed through throngs of people, dragging Amy with one hand and holding her skirts with the other to prevent herself from tripping. Vendors were shouting and people were laughing merrily in the tents. The biggest crowd, however, was towards the back of the tent that opened up to a compacted dirt dance floor. Right next to it drinks were being served.

Being the first night of the revelry, drinks were being passed around to everyone without charge and were eagerly accepted.

Sam and Amy were handed flagons of wine before they headed to find a spot at one of the many wooden tables. They spotted one on the far side of the tent that was empty and hurriedly claimed it as their own.

Altaïr had not removed his Assassin's tunic, pants, or belts for the festivities. However, he did leave behind many of his weapons, other than a knife he had hidden. Never before had any major fights erupted during a trading caravan's arrival, and he had enough faith in his own skills and that of the assassins standing guard to sit comfortably with only a mere dagger.

The assassin sat at a long table next to Malik and Kadar, nursing his own pint of ale. He was not one for the loud conversations or courting that many of his fellows enjoyed during such events, and he liked it that way. Yes, he would sit here comfortably, enjoying the company of his friend next to him.

"Have you seen Amy?" Malik was asking his younger brother.

"Over there, and Samantha is with her!" The younger boy pointed out the two women who were laughing together in the corner.

Altaïr and Malik watched as Kadar hurriedly downed the rest of his ale and slammed his mug on the table. "I am going to ask Samantha to dance." Without looking back the cocky young boy strode forward towards the women's table.

Malik rose an eyebrow at his friend, "Kadar makes the first move."

Altaïr glared down into the watery depths of his ale and downed a large gulp.

Samantha and Amy laughed and joked together, drinking every once in a while and feeling utterly carefree.

"Hello Amy, Samantha." The young assassin looked pointedly at the latter.

"Hello Kadar!" they chimed happily.

"If I may steal Samantha away from you for awhile I would be most grateful, my brother is over there." Kadar added with a slight bow.

"She's all yours!" Amy giggled and made her way through the crowd to Malik's table.

"You look stunning," Kadar complimented as he offered her his hand.

"Thank you," Sam flushed, "So where are you stealing me away to?"

"To dance, if you'd like."

"I don't know any of the dances," she pointed out.

"I have faith in your ability to catch on quickly," Kadar joked as he grasped her hand and led her to the other couples dancing jovially just outside of the tent.

Altaïr had a clear view of Samantha dancing with Kadar from where he was sitting. A grimace found its way onto his face each time their hands touched during their dance, and his grip on his poor empty tankard tightened each time he saw the young man steady her when she accidentally stepped on his foot. His stomach coiled tightly in jealousy. It should be him who was dancing with Samantha, but he had probably ruined any chance with the woman. Al Mualim had ingrained him with the idea that a woman was only a distraction for assassins, that is, until he himself had gotten married. Then the older assassin had allowed the men to marry and keep wives within the fortress.

Women were a distraction, and this one was clouding his thoughts with everything she did.

Altaïr stood up decidedly, his eyes sweeping the tables around him. At once he found his target.

"Would you like to dance?"

"You know, I've never noticed, but you have beautiful eyes." Sam said breathlessly as she twirled in step with Kadar. His bright blue eyes following her every move.

The music was fast paced, consisting of a mix of fiddle and flute playing that had the dancers stomping their feet and dancing merrily.

"And you've the most beautiful smile from here to Acre."

The compliment made Samantha smile even wider. Her expression quickly fell when she saw who had exited the cover of the tent to join them on the dance floor. Her chest clenched tightly as Altaïr led a young woman by the hand to dance. She was quite pretty and wore a simple blue dress and a head covering that barely contained her dark locks.

Samantha forced herself to look elsewhere and found that she was no longer enjoying herself. She felt sick to her stomach and her eyes continued wonder back to the hooded assassin.

She would not be beaten. She had spent nearly six months training under Altaïr, and she would make him notice her.

"Excuse me Kadar, there is something I must attend to," Sam told the younger assassin as the song faded to an end, "thank you very much for the dance."

Samantha spotted Altaïr and walked determinedly towards him.

"Excuse me," Sam said loudly, very nearly pushing the other woman aside, "but I'm going to have to steal this man away from you for the night."

Without waiting for a response she took Altaïr by the hand and pulled him away from the dark haired woman. She should have felt bad about being so rude, but in all honesty all she felt was a sense of triumph.

The assassin's hood was pushed back by the blonde before he could hide the smirk that had made its way onto his face.

"What are you smiling about?" Samantha snapped as a slower tune began.

"She was dull company anyways."

"I only hope I am not so dull," Sam teased, her jealousy simmering down now that she and Altaïr were dancing.

The song was much slower than the first and the only instrument playing was the fiddle.

"You always seem to keep me on my toes, so no, you are not." A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't lie, you like that I drive you crazy."

Altaïr could not find an answer for her, and she didn't seem to care if he gave one. The light from a nearby torch played across her face and hair, the gold thread on her dress shimmering with fire at every movement of her body. The assassin had to look away in attempt to keep the heat finding its way onto his face at bay. He loved the way her hand felt within his, and how she would look up at him and smile when she thought he wasn't looking.

The song ended sooner than either of them would have liked.

Part three: Darkness Gathers

The rest of the night the two spent sitting at the same table with their friends, but neither of them conversing with the other.

Sam guessed it was early morning when she and Amy finally began the long ascent back up the slope to the fortress. Nearly halfway up she deviated from the main path to a separate slope. Without hesitation she plopped on the ground and stretched out on a patch of grass.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked, exhausted.

"I just thought I'd look at the stars for a bit, will you stay?"

"Sure," Amy conceded.

Not even a minute later the auburn haired woman noticed Altaïr making his way up the main path and gestured him over before leaving.

"You know Amy," Samantha started, not knowing the assassin had taken her friends place, "I remember a lot from astronomy in high school. You see those three stars right there?" She pointed upwards.

Altaïr did not reply, but looked quietly from where he stood at the area she had pointed to. After he had gotten a good look his eyes trailed down to where Samantha was laying on the grass, her blonde hair illuminated by moonlight and splayed around her.

"That's the Summer Triangle," she continued, not waiting for any response. "Funny that they show up here during spring. Anyways, those three stars are Deneb, Vega, and Altaïr."

His name piqued the assassin's interest further.

"You know, he's not the best dancer, but I really enjoyed tonight with Altaïr." She was only teasing about the first part and giggled even as the words left her mouth.

"So I am a bad dancer then?" he asked as he sat down next to Samantha.

"Altaïr!" She cried out in surprise and sat up quickly.

"Peace," he chuckled, "I did not mean to startle you."

Altaïr joined her on the ground and Sam laid back down, her heart racing a mile per minute. She forced herself to look back up at the sky.

Silence overtook the two for many moments before Sam had the courage to look over at the assassin lying next to her.

Her eyes were met with golden brown ones. "You know the stars are much nicer to look at," she attempted to get his attention off of her.

Altaïr snorted and looked away for a moment, "Hardly."

She held his gaze once more. "If there is one thing I don't understand about you, Altaïr, it is why you seem like you actually enjoy my company every once in a while, and then end up pushing me further away."

Altaïr turned his gaze back up to the sky, as if searching the heavens for an answer.

"I do not know," he breathed, "perhaps it is because I do not wish to be distracted."

"Is that truly all? I just want the truth. Do you have any feelings for me? Any at all?" Sam continued to stare at the assassin, hoping he would look over at her.

It was several long minutes before she received an answer.

"Yes," the Altaïr mumbled, nearly inaudibly.

His eyes were still trained on the pinhole stars that poked through the heavens, wondering what he was thinking by telling her of his feelings. The stars were replaced with a face, pale and cold-looking against the black backdrop of the sky. His eyes closed slowly as small, soft lips converged on his. For a moment the assassin enjoyed the tender kiss.

However, his thoughts took a dark turn. In a few seconds all was finally sorted out in his mind. His desire had grown too great; jealousy had even worked its way into his heart earlier that evening. He should not feel jealousy for any of his fellow assassins. They were a brotherhood, with ties of blood and bonding. Samantha had sent all of those ideals crashing down. The whispering voice in the back of his head told her that she was conniving and was only trying to prevent his success.

He saw only one way that this path would lead him, and it was not to becoming a master assassin as he had always dreamt of. For a moment he wondered if that was what he still wanted even now. An image of having a family and living a simple life invaded his mind. That thought alone was enough for Altaïr to throw any of the emotions that he retained away. She was filling his head with all of these thoughts and he would not have it.

"No," he growled as he broke the kiss and pushed Samantha off of him. She landed unceremoniously on the ground.

The assassin stood and, without looking back, walked away.

Samantha sat on the ground a mixture of confusion and devastation etched onto her face. A moment later what had happened truly sunk in. She had been rejected, and in the worst possible way. He hadn't even explained anything to her, and the one moment where she thought Altaïr had brought down the walls around his heart was shattered. Samantha pulled her knees up to her chest as a sob wracked through her body. Her hands trembled violently as she grasped a fistful of her dress. Tears began to fall down her face. She was embarrassed and his rejection hurt much more than she ever thought it would.

She had been stupid for believing that Altaïr would share any of her feelings.

If anyone's curious about the music I had in mind check out River's Dance and Saffron's Wedding Dance by the Bedlam Bards from their Album On the Drift.

Next chapter starts the beginning of the game!