Author's Notes: Sorry, I know it's been a while (by my standards) for an update, I was a little stuck with this chpater as to how to introduce the plot, but I think it turned out okie dokie.

Again, and I can't stress this enough, thank you all so very, very much for the positive, and often constructive reviews! Honestly, you're all soooooo sweet! sniff I-I'm gonna c-cry sniffcrysniff

BTW, I brought back Diya Al Din into the plot, if you remember the man from the Misc stall in chapter three, and he will play a fairly big role in this.

Enjoy!

Surprising Visits

The next two days were spent as if nothing had happened, and I almost believed this to be true. When I awoke the night after in early dawn, the blood once splattered across the floor and walls was gone, my stairs were clean, even my front door was repaired. Altair didn't specifically say he cleaned it up, but I couldn't think of any other reason why. Either way, I was grateful, I didn't think I could stomach it anymore.

The only way I was sure none of it was some insane series of dreams was due to that fact that Adham had seemed even more protective than usual. That, and the tare in Altair's robes where he was cut. I mended it for him, on request.

We didn't speak much since then. He seemed to me a little cold, distant. I think he hated me seeing him as a man, and not the fierce hooded assassin he so often displayed to the world.

Perhaps… it was better that way. Distant…

Either way, an unease settled itself firmly in my chest.

The women around the well noticed, one early morning. Collecting my water, I shakily pulled the metal handle up, slinging it over the bar and held it, sighing, tired. I rested against the side of the well, but I still felt tired. I've been tired for days now, it didn't really matter how much rest I got.

My rather one-sided conversation with a woman named Johara stopped when she eyed my expression. Putting her pot on the ground, she rounded me on.

"Something wrong?" She asked, in her rather soothing tone. "You haven't smiled once since you got here."

Johara was in her mid-forties. Small, thin with a round little face and shiny black hair. She had four children, all boys, and bared this motherly sense to her that was wonderfully wholesome and easy to open up too. Anbar, who stood beside, was young and vibrant, cheeky and outspoken and was often looked down upon for her wisecracking and biting wit. Her eyes glanced up at me for a moment, throwing me a mischievous grin.

I looked into the pool of crystal clear water down the well, the old, worn stones glistening in the morning sunlight. The town was busy as always in the morning, echoes of chatter buzzing like flies, feet thumping the ground like beasts. It was too hot out, summer was showing through now. I wiped the sweat wearily off my brow.

"… No…" I couldn't really say anything more. Despite everything, they were my friends, and I hated lying to them. Especially Johara, who comforted me back when I was upset about unsuccessfully conceiving children.

It wasn't just what happened that night, the blood, the gore, the violence and how much Altair just seemed to enjoy causing pain. It was just…

God, what have I become? A mere ghost of a woman, so much they can even see it in my face?

He killed to protect me. He stayed with me, he comforted me in the most loving way possible. But he was next to impossible to read, and I had no idea what was running through his mind when he watched me while I slept, and then…

My hand went to my lips again, and I turned away, picking up my bucket with a heavy heart. It was impossible, it was simply his job to do this…

Johara called me back, her hand reaching out to my arm. "I can't bear to see you like this. What has happened? Is it… Mundhir?"

I winced, and they followed suit. Now, Johara, Anbar, and two more women named Hafsah and Nadia crowded around me, their first instinct to comfort. My head felt sore, the murmuring women encouraging me to pour out my heart and soul. I was trapped against the well and wall of females, confusion welling up when their voices grew to an incoherent hum and I held my hands up, halting their speech.

Partly, yes it was about Mundhir. But it was so much more too. Everything that happened recently had confused me so much I couldn't tell my foot from my elbow.

And I wanted nothing more than to tell them, to just let it all out, but I was faced with a far different problem than just telling them the honest truth and hope they would actually believe me. I looked up to the roofs around me, not seeing, but Lord I swear sometimes I can feel it when he's there. I was forbidden to say, I had to lie.

"I… I miss him." I choked, not sounding like myself at all.

God, how long did I have to keep this up? How much longer could I keep lying to myself, to them?

They fussed something chronic, patting my shoulders and hugging me. But their words were nothing but the twittering of birds to me, I was deaf to them. Lord, I have never felt so distant, so alienated from people before in my life. I knew these women, these ladies I shared secrets and gossiped with, who swapped stories with me and made me laugh. Who I listened to and helped console.

A desperate need drove me to tell them. My heart would burst fourth from my chest, grow a mouth and tell them itself if I didn't. But I had to edge around it, and only told them the one fixation on my mind, the once which refused utterly to leave me be.

"It's not just Mundhir." I cried to them, hushing their rant. "I just… I… He's gone away for a while and I-"

Hafsah, a stout, old woman could see the hesitation in my face. "You know you can tell us anything. We're here for you."

I bit my lip. I supposed, I have known them for a long time now, and I wanted nothing more than to get it off my chest, or at least make sure I wasn't going just a little out of my mind.

"Have you ever thought of… being with another man?"

Shocked stares greeted my question, and I stuttered out apologies, hoping I didn't sound too bad, as if I of all people was accusing them of adultery!

I however, was in favour of being shocked when not one, but all four of them shrugged.

"Sweetheart, every woman dreams of other men." Nadia, a similar build to myself sighed and leaned on my shoulder, her rather large nose high in the air.

"Of course, it's only natural really! Why must you be so upset?" Anbar took the bucket from me, smiling that near breathtaking smile of hers and setting the water down.

Hafsah giggled. "Really, you're almost too naive sometimes."

But it was Johara's story that shocked me the most. "Why, one of my own children isn't even Hassan's." Hassan is Johara's husband, and as his name implies, is extremely handsome.

None of them flinched at this, and it was obvious to me that they already knew. I stared at her, shocked, blank. Hassan was rich and handsome, and upright, dignified every time I saw him. Johara always came across as a devoted wife, a loving mother. She was a good, God-fearing woman… why?

"Don't get me wrong." She continued. "Hassan is quite the man. But he's a bastard." She added in a biting undertone, a sad little smile playing across her lips, a smile I used quite often myself, it was then I knew why she said it. Hassan must beat her, quite badly too, by the look on her face.

Exhaling noisily, she pulled me into a hug. "God made men to sow his seeds where he may, but made women to limit the crop to one field, as my mother said. Not often true. Trust me pet, I'm sure even a devoted woman like you can have impure thoughts sometimes. Just promise me," she let go, her brown eyes joining with mine and I saw the pain, her life had taken it's toll on her and made her cinnamon eyes bloodshot and weary, "you should only do what you think is right, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone. Ask God, and no matter what, God will always forgive you, because you're doing what's right. Right?"

That… made sense I supposed. Johara often reminded me of my mother. She too, said that in times of distress I should turn to God and seek guidance. My mother warned me not to hurt people, not to be selfish. But… sometimes, I just want to look out for myself.

But… these women. They have all had thoughts, and experiences of adultery like mine! God fearing women, all good and righteous! Or so I thought.

"Are you surprised?" Anbar asked, a cheeky grin sliding over her face. Though she had a bit of a reputation, I never believed it to be true until now.

I looked to the ground. They were all… just like me. And Johara, one of her children wasn't even Hassan's!

"Y-yes." I said, my eyes searching the dust and water. "But, I do feel better about it now."

Anbar was young, and giggled foolishly. "You have more right than us after all. You were sold into marriage!"

And it was true. They were just like me. They were human. Perhaps I have been trying too hard to be the perfect wife, trying too hard to please. Was I… the only one? Though I do not doubt they love their husbands, it seemed that in the end they were, well, just women. Perfectly capable of being attracted to others and even falling into men's traps, just like me.

It was as though a great weight had been lifted from me when they smiled, and I suddenly felt closer to my friends from the well than ever before. It hit me, that their husbands may not even know, and though they may feel guilt it just made them even more human.

Everyone makes mistakes, I suppose this was just their way of getting around it, or venting their feelings.

No, God could not possibly disapprove of such beautiful, wonderful women. Women who comfort, who console, who listen, and in the end, are only human.

I smiled with them, glad their approval lessened the dead weight on my chest. It made me realise my predicament with Altair may not be as awful as I thought.

Do what you think is right…

And that I will. I love Johara with all my heart. She is a good, wise, beautiful woman with a heart of gold, and I dare anyone to say different.

Because she's just like me. She's human. She's a woman.

In better spirits, I returned home that day with my water buckets, a new found wave of energy bringing back my strength. I wasn't alone in this, I knew it. Sometimes, all it takes are simple sentiments from friends to help me realise how much people care.

I emptied the water out in the basin near the back wall, Adham had taken a habit of following me all over the house now, and barked loudly whenever I left. At first it was endearing, but now it was starting to get a little annoying, my neighbours were none to fond of the noise either. I nudged the dog with my left knee, trying to get him to move so I could manoeuvre myself back inside and make dinner.

I was planning to make chicken in lentil sauce, but before I could even pick up the jar of pulses, Adham yapped loudly and stood at my heels, growling. I heard the tapping from upstairs, and not even in need of a warning, I shouted towards the ceiling so he could hear me. "Shoes, Altair!"

A faint grumble, then two clunks followed until he padded softly down the stairs, watching me smirking in triumph. Adham continued to bar his path, but I gently shrugged him away. He curled up beside the door, eyes alert and cautious.

When not tucked into the boots, Altair's soft grey slacks swept the floor. He regarded me lopsidedly from beneath the hood as I pulled the material from the small pot of lentils and poured a measure into a bowl.

"I have word of your husband."

I wrapped the jar up and put it back on the shelf, taking a bottle full of sloppy paste and uncorking it with my teeth.

"Oh?" I said, spitting the cork into my hand. "It goes well?"

Pouring some of the paste into the bowl, I saw from the corner of my eye as he looked down to the floor, then to Adham.

"No. Brother Sofian was killed in an ambush, now Bashir and your husband have gone into hiding."

Putting the bottle down with a sigh, I braced my hands against the table and hung my head. "… Will he be alright?"

A pause, then, "I shouldn't see why not. Bashir is more than capable of protecting him. The assassin's bureau will provide them with cover and shelter until the chase has stopped."

I nodded, turning back to my bowl and picking up a large spoon to mix it with. Not really able to tell how I felt at that moment, the only way I could describe my emotion was possibly… empty. Yes, empty suited it. I wasn't worried, or afraid. It was more like I didn't really care. He was safe, that was all I needed to know.

"I'm… sorry." I mixed the runny paste and lentils. "About Sofian."

"Don't be." He retorted, folding his arms. "The man was an idiot."

I winced. That wasn't very nice. But I wouldn't really know…

"Anything else?" Not meaning to sound so cold, like I was trying to get rid of him, I rephrased my question. "Are you hungry? I'm cooking-"

A knock, on my door just as Adham barked and stood up, taking off for the front of the house. Altair nodded to me and left quickly for the roof while I made my way to the entrance, pushing the dog back by the collar to cease his low growls, haunting, vigilant cries.

"Al Din?" I exclaimed, as I pulled the rotting wood back on it's creaky hinges. "How… surprising? Please come in."

The thin man smiled, albeit gravely, at me and stood in the door, politely removing his shoes. I thought it was just me, but he looked thinner than usual, and even more tired. Adham relaxed, unafraid.

"A quick word, if you will in private?"

"Of course, come into the lounge."

I led him inside, my dog following happily behind me, Al Din reaching out a spidery hand to gently rub his ears. His old grey eyes studiously examined my house as we entered the lounge, before turning his gaze to me, elderly and grave, yet still with that ever present wise nature to him. Adham wagged his tail, pawing at the man's robes, who consoled him with a patting hand.

"You best sit down." He said, and I did awkwardly, as if I was the guest.

What was this about…?

"My pet, I'm sure you have noticed people asking for your husband, correct?"

I nodded, not sure where he was going with this. A certain… sadness lingered in him. I grew suddenly worried.

He sighed deeply, as only an old man could. "I'm sure the assassin knows I am here."

I stood up at that point, shocked, horrified that he knew and yet said it so casually.

"Don't be alarmed! Trust me, pet, I am the only one who has noticed, and linked it to the fact that your husband is also missing."

My mouth was agape, no one has said anything to me before, and I'm sure I would have heard something from the women by the well if they noticed, being the terrible gossips they are. But how did he know Altair was an assassin? Was he following me?

A hand went to his chin, a knowing smile, rather fatherly at that too. "I've known you since you were a babe, no? I notice when you are worried, sad, or frightened. And I noticed the monk helping you in the street several days ago too. That same monk who flies so effortlessly over the rooftops, watching you. Sit down, pet."

He began to pace, and I sat obediently, Adham content by my heels against a big red cushion.

"I know when your husband hits you, and I of all people cannot deny it when I think the man is of ill deed, not only towards you, I might add. I'm sure, that putting you under the protection of one of Al Mualim's assassins, Mundhir must have gotten himself into a lot of trouble this time."

"This time…?"

"Yes." He replied, a dark look passing over his face. "This is not the first time Mundhir has been involved with thugs, vermin and criminals. My dear, it simply saddens me that you of all people have to be involved in this. I'm sure you must be terrified."

This struck a chord with me, mostly because I liked to believe I wasn't a simpering woman terrified of her own shadow, and because partly it was true. I was terrified. But I refused to let it break me like a twig, I refused to back down even when men are hammering down my door, and I refuse to go insane after witnessing those same men's slaughter. I will endure, I will be strong, for myself, for Mundhir, for my friends too. I will endure. For Altair, to make his job easier.

"Pet, I'm so sorry to be the informant to this… farce. Call this assassin down, he must hear this too."

I paused, unsure if I should or not. Could I… really trust Diya Al Din with seeing Altair? Then again, the man already knew quite a lot, even about Al Mualim, so would it really be any harm?

No, it was not my place.

"You play a dangerous game, old man." And sure enough, Altair was already listening, leaning against the doorframe cockily. Adham started growling at him, but I hushed the dog.

"Ah, so you must be-"

"Don't speak." He spat, flashing his left hand, the glint of the blade ardent under the armour. "Now get out. I'm rather against killing old men, but I might make an exception should you prove troublesome."

"Alta-" But he hushed me before I could berate him. A frown etched into my face. The last thing I needed now was a fight, and Diya Al Din was a close friend to me, so I utterly refused to allow him to be killed.

If he had information, what harm would it be?

"Surely, you can understand if I want to help? I have no harmful intent, I like you, am trying to protect this woman." He held out his frail arms, inviting peace. Altair however, wasn't buying it. He scowled.

"Let me reiterate." He spat. "Get out."

As if to threaten, he brandished his hidden blade with a low shink. Al Din flinched.

"Altair, please!" I cried. "If he has information, it may be of use to you."

"I get my own information." He retorted, not once glancing at me. Eyes on the target, always. "People are not to be trusted. Especially traders who conspire with your husband. If they use you to get to him, what then?" He held up the blade, legs braced against the floor, battle ready, though Al Din was no threat. It was simply to intimidate him enough to leave. "If I have to remove you from this house myself, I will."

"Stop it!" I said, and it took me a second to realise my voice had risen slightly. Standing, I posed myself in front of Al Din, protecting him, my arms out to beg Altair to desist.

He stared incredulously at me, glaring for questioning his judgement, but I failed to care. I wasn't going to let Al Din get hurt, who never did anything wrong to me. I couldn't allow someone so old and wise be spoken to in such a manner, and I'm sure if Altair spoke to Al Mualim in the same tone, he would be killed.

"I cannot trust this man's information, he is too well connected to the city."

"I trust him!" I scowled at him, such disrespect! He stared at me, as if to ask 'do you not trust me?'. But he thought the better of the question, and lowered his hand. Of course, I trusted both of them equally, but if Diya Al Din wanted to come to my house to talk to me personally, the matter must be important.

"…Why?" He asked hesitantly.

"He's my friend." I hissed, begging him for peace and some manners, God was that so much to ask?

A glower, then a reluctant nod and he walked fully into the room. I relaxed, moving to sit back on the cushions, behind my "valiant" protector. Such disrespect! Al Din mouthed a "thank you" to me and continued.

"As I was saying, you husband is involved with many criminals about the city. Usually just small, petty crimes, so it was a surprise to me when I heard of Mu'ayyad. A man that dangerous couldn't possibly be conspiring with Mundhir of all people, I thought. But it deemed to be true."

Stopping his thoughtful pace, he turned to face me with tired eyes, a worried stare. "Mundhir is not the only one who had been caught up in this mess. I am sure he was just a mule for delivery, but Mu'ayyad thought the better of handing it over, and your husband knows too much to allow him to live. Mu'ayyad's connections run deep through Jerusalem, with traders, Templar, even some of the monks are paid to keep silent about his associations. So when word got out that your husband has gone missing, Mu'ayyad's men got suspicious."

"Do you know of any people directly connected to Mu'ayyad?" Altair asked.

"Only what I hear of from my stall." He sighed. "Though I am sure Aludra's husband, the fish monger is connected through the channels with him."

He turned back to me, full of concern, his old eyes shining. "My only concern here is your well being. So believe me when I say that Mu'ayyad's men will try to use you. I can't tell you exactly all of those connected, because frankly, I don't know. But I implore you to keep your eyes sharp, especially around traders and guards."

"I've already been threatened." I said lowly, about the other night. "Men came to my house in an effort to take me. Templar."

"And what happened to them?" He asked.

"I killed them." Altair replied smoothly.

Diya Al Din's face paled. "If that is the case, many more men will return here. Now they know there is a threat, and they will do what they can to try and use you. They will stop at nothing."

I stiffened. I couldn't be so important, that men put themselves in danger to try to kill or kidnap me. Surely, I wasn't that important.

"Why me?" I posed. "I'm not a trader, nor do I have any information. So why?"

"Many reasons." Altair said. "You can be used as bait, or a ransom to lure out your husband. They may be under the belief you know something and will try to interrogate you. Or, and if I understand Mu'ayyad correctly, he would use you as a trophy, as stolen goods from your husband, and from the Creed that tried to protect you and Mundhir."

I cringed. How… how horrible!

"Mu'ayyad is not to be trifled with." Al Din whispered. "If he wants to do something, by God, he will do it. I doubt that last attack will be the end, sadly, I fear there is more to come."

Something about all this made me a little giddy, though I don't really know why. Perhaps it was shock, hell I still don't know, or maybe fear, but I still felt just as empty, as hollow as I felt earlier.

And then… it built up to something new. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but gently clasped Altair's forearm, bringing his gaze down to me.

"You will protect me, will you not?"

He looked at me for sometime, though it was more like his gaze was focused on the inside of himself then straight at me. His eyes focused, catching mine again.

"It is my job."

Yes. Good. "Altair does not, and will not fail." This is his job.

I nodded, a soft look passing over my features then. "I trust you."

Al Din rose a grey brow, crossing his thin arms. "This will be no easy feat, I warrant you."

"Don't worry, Al Din," I said, smiling, "Altair does not, and will not fail."

A pause, an odd and calculating look, then he inclined his head.

Altair spoke. "She trusts you, so I must do the same. Your leads, how worthy are they?"

Al Din laughed. "Though I am old, I am no fool. When information is passed to me it is on good word."

Altair scathed. "Very well. Do not fail me old man. I sincerely hope my trust is not misplaced in you, for it shall be your head to roll first if you betray us. Now leave."

And with that, he walked out of the room to the back, possibly to the roof again. Al Din made to leave, but I stopped him with a gentle hand.

"I'm making dinner, would you care to stay?"

He smiled, truly for the first time he stepped into this house, and a knowing hand went back to his chin. "It would be my pleasure. I have heard good things about your cooking skills."

"Then your sources must be right." I beamed. "I am an excellent cook."

I wasn't too sure, even still what exactly was going on. I promised myself I would ask Altair seriously about it tonight. But for the moment, I had a welcome guest, and a dinner to make, and one I was very happy to cook for.

It felt nice… to have someone familiar with me, who understood. Even in this crazy mess, I was glad Diya Al Din, of all people in Jerusalem, was so accepting of me.

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be more interesting than this, I promise, I know this one dragged on a bit, but in the next one, there is definetly some action!