A/N: Hello again, my wonderful readers! I am proud to present the second chapter of the sequel to The Landing! I never thought I would get this far in my writing, and I'm honestly so excited to see what you guys think. I was also worried I wouldn't upload this in time, since it's finals week, but I have! In any case, enjoy!

Altairila: AYYYYYYYYY, dude! It's so good to hear from you again! I was worried I wouldn't hear from any of my old reviewers, but I'm glad that's not the case. And, yeah, now that their romance is more established there should be more cuteness. I hope you like this chapter too!

AdeielSilverbird: WOOOO another og reviewer! I'm excited to be back too!

Chapter 2: A Mockingbird Killed

Despite the events that had so recently unfurled, Ryan found himself falling into quite a normal routine. He would wake up early and check on Kaylyn before heading to Baha's shop, usually to drag a myriad of supplies behind the older man on his delivery rounds. He would return to the house for lunch and again for dinner, before checking once more on his bedridden sister.

He also went early to help Shadin with the horses; that is, when Shadin was actually there and willing to speak with him.

I don't understand what's going on, Ryan thought after being angrily turned away by yet another stablehand that morning, he can't be mad at me, can he? Whatever it was, he resolved to find out and help him, or at the very least support him.

It was a strange time, with Altair's rise to power marking the death of what many had so recently taken for granted: direction, safety, and the infallible defenses of the Assassin Brotherhood. Ryan noticed that some now anxiously avoided any guards they passed on the streets, and far too many faces were shadowed with pain and grief. One such mother, tugging a young man alongside her, had seen another and hissed before hurrying away. Regardless, Altair was a good leader with impeccable advisors who did his best to reassure the townsfolk, even if it wasn't always successful.

Ryan shook himself from his thoughts, resigning to another day spent nervously trailing behind his mentor without so much as a word from the boy who'd captured his heart.

He sighed, dragging himself through the hallway and the door to Baha's workshop.

"Whhhere thehhellv you benin?" The slurred words startled him, and Ryan turned to see Baha sitting on the floor in a corner of the room. The forge was cold and dark, like it hadn't been used at all that day.

"What? Baha, what's...wrong with you?"

"Whadddya mean?" The grumpy blacksmith moved as if to get up from his seat, then swayed and plopped back down. Upon closer inspection, Ryan noticed the strong scent of liquor and an empty bottle lying on the floor. Baha closed his eyes with a groan, leaning against the wall. What on earth…?

"Dude, are you drunk?"

"Naahhhh juss nedded a ress' befur the day stardded."

"But the forge isn't even up and running, and we have that dagger order from yesterday to finish. Are there any deliveries to make?" Ryan couldn't believe the old man would put himself in this position. He loves his work too much. What is going on?

Baha growled, "Fuck off," and promptly closed his eyes again. There was only a minute of silence before soft snores echoed through the room.

Shit. What the hell do I do? Ryan knew there were things that needed to be done, but his mentor was in no fit state to do them. There were no obvious crates to be delivered. He looked around and spotted the dagger handles, already crafted and sitting neatly on a table.

I...I guess I could...Already, he found his hands moving toward the pieces, and he looked at the fuel for the forge. It would be difficult without Baha's direction. As grumpy as the man was, Ryan relied on his instincts to ensure the blades were correctly shaped and hammered. Ryan imagined himself in a pool of molten metal, burning his feet away as he desperately tried to hammer it.

Well, here goes nothing. Sighing, Ryan stoked the fires, using his mentor's rusty bellows to keep the flames high. Their yellow tongues licked upwards, slowly climbing until the room was full of heat and light. It was comforting, but nerves still stung at his insides.

Ryan may have been in training, but he wasn't really a blacksmith.

God, please let me pull this off.

With that rousing thought, the young apprentice began his fastidious work, hammering and molding and praying for salvation. The heat from the fire and the exercise made sweat drip from him in clumps, sticking to his forehead and falling with a hiss into the hungry flames. Each sizzle made Ryan jump, fearful as he was that the blade would warp or crack. All the while, loud snores echoed from the corner.

Slowly, though, his nerves faded as the repetition and calm of work overtook him. The clanging and heating and cooling and shaping was all incredibly familiar. Although they would take the entire day to forge, the two matching blades had already begun to take form, fiery red and orange mixing into beautiful patterns. Oh, this isn't so bad. Ryan could recall most of what Baha had taught him, his body instinctively following the methods he'd seen his mentor use, over and over. The room was boiling, but Ryan didn't notice.

Briefly, he looked up from his work and started as he realized just how high in the sky the sun had moved. It's almost noon. I've been at this for a while.

"Hello? Al-Din, is Ryan there? I need to-" The voice stopped abruptly as Ryan turned, covered in sweat, to see Makin standing there. The young assassin-to-be stared at him strangely, then frowned as another snore echoed.

Ryan grinned, ignoring the awkwardness in the air. "Hey, dude! I was just about to stop for lunch."

"Rye-an, why…" Makin trailed off, stretching his neck to see the form of Baha collapsed against the wall, deep asleep. Despite himself, Ryan felt the fake smile slip from his face. He shrugged his shoulders. He could feel the other boy's eyes boring into his face, and knew his cheerfulness hadn't fooled Makin for a second. Kinda sucks that he just...knows what I'm thinking. I don't know how Kaylyn manages that.

"I don't know why, but...Baha was kinda drunk and...yeah…"

Makin's mouth opened, then closed. Silence filled the room.

Finally, the assassin spoke. "...drunk? That isn't like him. He's angry a lot, but…"

Ryan frowned. "But what?"

"Rye-an, the old goat gave up drinking years ago. Said it distracted him from his work." Makin moved further into the room as he spoke, meandering slowly toward the blacksmith sleeping in the corner. There was an odd, pitying expression on his face as he picked up the liquor bottle, examining it. He cringed. "God, this is enough to knock out a horse."

"Is it?" Ryan knew nothing about the alcohol of the time period, and frowned at his mentor, worried. I hope he hasn't poisoned himself. Should I have gotten help? I should've, shouldn't I? God I'm so stupid…he berated himself relentlessly, knowing that he'd never forgive himself if harm came to Baha because of him. He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder and looked up to see a concerned set of eyes staring at him.

"Are you alright, friend?"

He grimaced as he replied, "Y-yeah, I am, I just hope he's ok."

"Did you ask his wife? She might know." Ryan blinked. Of course! She'd be back from the markets by now. Every morning after cleaning, 'bint Yazid would go out and collect food and water for the day, and occasionally buy something extra for herself and her husband. She was always back before noon.

"I'll, uh...I'll be back!" He exclaimed, and scurried out of the room toward the kitchen. He only hoped that 'bint Yazid was already putting things away, and wouldn't be overly shocked at Will's impromptu discovery.

When he entered the small hallway that led toward the main house, the smell of baking bread wafted toward him, and he relaxed slightly. Ok, well...here goes nothing. Ryan went to the kitchen and turned to the smaller figure bent over the counter, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

'Bint Yazid jumped. "Oh! My god, you startled me! Silly boy." Already her impish grin was in place. Ryan grimaced.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

The woman hummed, taking in his pinched expression. "Ryan, what's wrong? Shouldn't you be helping my helpless husband?"

"Well, it's just…"

"I believe he mentioned something about daggers. I can certainly take care of this baking myself. Why, I just bought a new recipe from-"

"Ma'am! Er, that is…" Ryan hesitated, sighing at his own awkward demeanor, "'bint Yazid, I think something is wrong with him. He was drunk when I got here, and-"

"What?" Eyes widening, 'bint Yazid straightened from her hunched position. A frown passed over her, a dark emotion so unlike the cheery mischief she usually exuded, and her fingers clasped at the hem of her apron. "Show me."

Ryan nodded and hurried back to the forge, Baha's wife trailing behind him.

The snoring was obvious as soon as they entered, despite the noise and heat wafting from the fire. Baha hadn't moved from his earlier position, and his brow was furrowed so deeply that Ryan swore he looked ten years older.

"Oh, darling…" 'bint Yazid sighed, moving to sit beside him. He caught Makin's eye, and the older boy shrugged. The woman brushed a strand of hair from her husband's face, carefully removing the bottle from his clenched hand. She stared at it a moment, then sighed. "This is one from the marketplace, his favorite kind," She muttered.

Makin stepped forward carefully. "'bint Yazid, do you know why he did this?"

'bint Yazid looked up at him, and her eyes were filled with sadness. "Yes. Unfortunately, I do."

Ryan gaped. "Well then, why? I've been working the forge all morning and he's just been sleeping!" I hope the reason is good, although I can't imagine it isn't.

"He pretended it didn't bother him, but…" Baha's wife trailed off for a moment. Then she said simply, "His father died yesterday afternoon. They were not on good terms."

Oh.

Ryan grimaced, and Makin's eyes were huge.

His father…he never mentioned his father. He supposed that they must've hated each other, but then remembered the state of his mentor before him. So, he must still have cared. Ryan moved closer to Baha al-Din, picking up the empty bottle and tossing it out the door. There was a loud clunk as it hit the floor.

"What….sgoinon?" A rough voice made the three of them jump, and Ryan couldn't help the smile of relief that crossed his face.

"Come now, dear. You must remember." 'bint Yazid swept to her husband's side, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders. "You've been sleeping for a while."

"God, my head…" Baha mumbled, glancing up at the forge. His eyes made out the light of the fire, and the two younger boys standing nearby. He stilled, frozen in place by some unnamed emotion. "Oh…how long…"

"Now, then," 'bint Yazid spoke briskly, pulling him to his feet. "I shall get you cleaned up, and then you and I will have a long chat, Abu Aaliyah." The blacksmith grimaced, glancing at his young apprentice. There was a strange guilt in his expression, strong enough to make Ryan cringe. He'd never seen his mentor look like that before.

Ryan gave him a tentative smile. "Feel better, sir."

Baha grunted, pinching his nose tightly as 'bint Yazid hauled him off, likely to a lecture that was long overdue. The young boy sighed, turning to Makin with an apologetic expression. "Okay, soo…"

Makin shrugged and gestured to the half-made daggers. "I guess we'll be finishing that?"

Ryan blinked. "We? You know how to use a forge?"

The older boy laughed and shook his head. "Certainly not! I can help with carrying water, and other such tasks. I have no desire for you to see this day through alone."

"Oh! Thank you!" At least I know I can count on Makin. Maybe I should've fallen for him. Ryan thought about this for a moment, then decided otherwise. He couldn't imagine having to fight his sister for someone else's affection. God, the cringe!

Don't think about it.

Ugh…

DON-

"When you're done making odd expressions, do let me know."

Ryan jumped, then grinned sheepishly. "WHA-oh, right. Ok…um…bring that bucket of water nearer to the forge, please!"

"Yes, sir!" Makin exclaimed cheerfully.

I guess I'll be skipping lunch. Ryan sighed, then figured that there were far worse things in the world to be dealing with.

A/N: WELP, poor Baha's having a bit of a crisis, and of course he's terrible at showing any sort of emotion. Here's hoping it works itself out? Also, what on earth is goin on with Shadin?