Chapter 9

Horseback Riding Lessons from Altair!

A/N: I decided to continue this story, at least for the time being. I think it will be better that way, seeing as I have to wait for Assassin's Creed II to actually even come out. So onward to Chapter 9!

You know what I just realized, this is my first A/N, ever... alright!

Alright, before I go on, I have to say that it might get a bit religious, but I have to put out there that I have no religious intentions behind this. I'm not trying to put out a certain idea, I'm just putting a good plot twist on Assassin's Creed that I think would go pretty good and make my story interesting and new to my readers. So, no religious intentions behind this, purely for your entertainment.

Templar knights were evil. Al Muallim said so, therefore it must be true. Morgan is evil. She's loud, opinionated, and has the tattoo of the Templar sect, the Priory of Sion, on her arm. Therefore, she's evil. The Fleur-de-lis is the symbol of the enemy, and she had her sweatshirt on the whole time to hide it. He had been played for a fool.

Altair stood with Rafik, staring down at the sleeping Morgan. It was a slightly difficult thing to comprehend. A templar killing her own, other templar knights falling by her hand. Rafik scratched his head, "Maybe she is an ex-templar," He whispered so not to wake her.

The assassin didn't answer. His eyes remained locked on her arm-on the symbol that ruined what he thought of her... well, brought it further down then where it was before. It was cold, the night air about them seemed to freeze even more. An assassin who used to be a master (yet now a novice, thought Altair choose to not acknowledge that simple fact at the moment) being helped out by an ex-(though Altair choose to ignore that possibility at the moment) templar. "She might," He whispered back finally, "Be leaking my work to Robert."

Rafik's eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of his head. "Do you think it possible?"

"Wouldn't put it past the she-devil." He grumbled.

"No, I refuse to believe it." He shook his head and walked back into his room, the younger assassin following him.

"Think about it, Rafik," He continued, "We run into each other right after I'm demoted, she wants to help me and knows more about the templar knights themselves than any simple templar recruit!"

"Coincidence," He shrugged.

"There are no coincidences, Rafik."

"God's will then, take it as you will!" The rafek walked back out, this time with a blanket in his hands.

Altair eyed him as he walked away, "What's that for?"

"Morgan," He answered, "The night's turning cold and she might need it. Her hood is not going to be enough."

"We should be rid of her," he grumbled in response. "She could endanger the entire Brotherhood."

"If she is a templar, why would she not just kill you while you were sleeping?"

Altair sat in thought for a minute. Yes, that did make sense a bit. However, Altair was searching for anyway to be rid of her. "She... she could simply be here to gather information on us."

Rafik shook his head, and pulled out a paper, "If it bothers you that much, Altair, I'll send word to Al Muallim, inform him of what is going on and what we know. Does that sound efficient?"

"As efficient as it gets, I'm afraid..." He sighed, then thought of something, "And don't go and make her out as some great person, because you haven't spent a whole day with her. I have..."

Morgan and the horse stared at each other as if they've never seen anything else like a human or a horse in the world. Altair rubbed his eyes with his free hand, "Please tell me you know how to ride a horse."

A silence had already fallen over an already silent outside market. Morgan didn't answer, directly. "Well... um, I've played a Barbie game once that involved riding horses using the mouse to my computer."

Altair blinked, utterly confused, "A what?"

"A Barbie game," She explained, not looking at him, "You got to ride a horse through the computer, take care of it and stuff." She shrugged, "But that's about all I have when it comes to knowledge on actually riding a horse."

"So...basically, you yourself have never actually ridden a horse?"

"In fewer words...yeah, basically..."

Altair groaned, "So you don't have an idea as to how to ride a horse?"

She shrugged, finally looking at him, "A little idea on how."

He sighed, "That'll have to do." He tied his horse to a fence and walked back over to her. He sized her up, noting now just how short she was. He then looked at the horse he had brought out for her; the horse was at least a 1 and a 1/2 a Morgan taller. "Get on up."

"Uh..." She blinked, "What?"

"To ride a horse, you have to be sitting on top of it."

"Yeah, I kind of got the concept," she grumbled. Morgan looked back at him then at the horse, "I think I'm going to need some help."

He had been afraid of that, he didn't want to talk to her, let alone touch her. "Hm," he looked around and smiled, "Oh." he went over to a merchant stand and picked up an empty box. Flipping it over, he set it next to the horse. "There."

She glanced at it, "A box?"

He stared at her, "Yes, a box."

She sighed and turned to get on it, "You could have just lifted me up, save you the time."

It took Morgan a few tries, but after the 6th time, she had herself a bit stable on the saddle. Altair himself had gotten on his white horse, watching her try to keep the horse steady. It would have been humorous to him if he wasn't so agitated with lack of sleep. "Don't be afraid," He said finally, walking his horse over to her brown steed, "Your horse needs to feel as if it's in the hands of someone who knows what they're doing."

"Yeah, well-" She jumped as the horse made a sound, "It's not like I actually know what I'm doing, now is it?"

Altair noticed this; he also noticed how her fear was making her horse nervous. He moved slightly and began to stroke her horse's mane. "Sh..." He whispered to it, "It's okay..." He then began to speak in Arabic.

Instantly the horse calmed down. Altair glance back at Morgan who was staring at him with her mouth hanging down. The only emotion on her face was that of awe. He met her gaze with a slight glare, "What?"

"I... I've never actually heard you speak your native language." She answered, gripping the reigns a bit more strongly then before. "It was cool."

He shook his head, "Come, you must learn how to ride. And I'm not about to say something in my 'native language' whenever I need to get your attention."

"Uh, right." She sat up straighter, "How do I make Phillip move?"

"Philip?" He questioned.

Morgan smiled, "It's a future thing, you wouldn't understand."

Altair rolled his eyes, "You move your horse-"

"Philip," She corrected, glancing at the back of the brown head.

He sighed, "You move Philip from side to side by slightly moving the reigns in the direction you want him to go. Understand?"

She nodded, "I think so?"

"Next, to stop your horse, you pull back on the reigns, this also backs him up when you're standing still."

"Pull back to stop or back up, got it."

"And to have him move forward, you simply gently squeeze his sides with your calves."

Morgan breathed in than out, trying to keep her heart steady. "You know how many people die per year because they're thrown off a horse. Maybe we should just walk on foot."

"Stay!" He barked, pointed at her, stopping her from moving. "Stay on Philip!"

She pouted slightly, "Okay."

He again reached up and rubbed his eyelids, "Just ride the horse."

She sighed and gently squeezed the sides of Philip and let out a yelp as he started to move. She squeezed her eyes shut for about 10 seconds. Altair had one of the reigns in his hand, guiding her along. "Oh," She smiled, leaning over the side, "I'm moving!"

"Fascinating," He grumbled again, letting go, "Here come a turn."

"Right," She nodded, gripping the reigns tighter again.

As it came time, she slightly pulled back her left reign. In response, Philip moved to the left. A triumphant smile crossed her lips. "I can ride a-"

"PERSON!!"

"AH!" Morgan yanked back on the reigns.

"AH!" The man in front of Philip jumped back when he reared.

Morgan slipped back off of the saddle, landing square on her behind. A loud thud echoed as she felt she broke her tailbone, "OH FUCK!!!!"

"Watch where you're going!" The man yelled.

Morgan was curled in a ball on the dirt floor, glancing back at the man and gasping for air. All the wind in her lungs had been knocked out; she barely just got out, "Sorry, I'm new at this." Though it sounded more like, "S-sorry.. I... shit, I'm new at this..."

"Be more careful then!" He snapped back.

Morgan's eyebrows turned into a glare, "Hey, asshole! I said I was sorry! So if you don't fucking mind, I need to get my lungs back to normal oxygen capacity! So if you don't move your ass along, I'll personally turn it into a new saddle!!!"

"Why you little-!!"

Altair pulled his horse in between them. Morgan and the man glanced up at him in shock, "I suggest you move along." He said finally.

The man didn't say anything else. He simply sent an evil glance to Morgan, and walked away, with the assassin's death glare on his back. Morgan swore in that moment that it was a trademark or something, like a gang sign. She sat up, slightly, still holding her ass and breathing heavy. "I remember one time," She started, making Altair glance at her, "I fell off a slide when I was about 5 or 6. I had to go to the hospital because my parents were afraid I had broken my tailbone." She laughed, slightly, "I got an Ariel picture that when you held it up to the light of a lamp and slightly moved it, it looked like she was swimming."

Altair stared at her for a minute, seeing as this was really the first time she had ever mentioned her childhood to him. It was odd, mostly because he had no clue what a tailbone was, who Ariel or Lamp was, or what a slide was. He didn't say anything, besides, "I had just started my Assassin training when I was 3..."

"Sweet Jesus," She groaned, getting up on one knee. "I still can't believe you helped me."

"I have to get you to Masyaf in one piece." He replied.

She stood up slowly, a smile spread on her lips, "Oh," she smirked, "Don't hide it, you like me." She rubbed her ass a bit more as she walked back over to Philip.

"Don't flatter yourself. And be quick," He glanced over at the guards, "If they notice that you have one of their horses, you'll have a fight on your-" He stopped, seeing Morgan really struggling to get on the horse. Obviously, she had hurt something on her... tailbone? Still, he couldn't help but smirk, "Would you like your box?"