Hey all! Hope you all enjoy this chapter, because it is about to get hella interesting :3 As I said previously, the plot has been revisited and revamped for Altmar awesomeness. Also, just as a side note, If you've been following the story, I have changed chapter 3, so the character Maria has contact with, is no longer English, (Jessica), but is from Jerusalem. I changed this because it felt too Mary-sue-ish, which was ABSOLUTELY NOT what I wanted it to be. In no way is it a self insert, but just an OC I needed so that Maria could talk to someone other than herself when I need to convey plot points XD.

As always, Ubisoft owns, yadah yadah. They're the best :)

Anyways, without further ado, the next chapter– Read, review, repeat!

Altaïr regarded the others with wide eyes. He had never in his wildest dreams thought that he would be thrust into a situation like this one. He followed behind them from as much a distance as he could with the guards watching him with suspicion. They arrived at the center of a large cushioned area; in the center sat Mamraj himself. Altaïr cringed as he saw the lecherous grin on the man's face widen as he watched the undulating movements of several veiled dancing girls. Soon, a break in the music indicated a change in the entertainment, and the male dancers moved forward, and formed lines in front of Mamraj, bowing deeply. Altaïr struggled to keep pace with the others, almost colliding with another once they stopped to bow. He bowed awkwardly, rising too soon, and then hastily, re-bowing. The music started again, and Altaïr quickly realized that he was in over his head. The music reached a frantic pace, and Altaïr had all but given up even trying to stay out from underfoot of the other dancers. He received a few glares after getting in the way of a few of them, and had begun to back away. He snuck a glance to where Mamraj sat, and was startled to see him watching. Altaïr felt his blood chill as the man kept his gaze on him, gradually frowning when he noticed that Altaïr wasn't performing.

Mamraj leaned over and whispered to one of his many guards. Altaïr watched as the guard approached him from the side, forcing him to move closer to the group. Suddenly, Mamraj rose from his cushion, and raised his hands. The music stopped immediately, and the dancers stopped, bowed, and kneeled before him.

"You–" Mamraj interjected sharply, "Come closer."

Altaïr paused, before realizing it was he who had been addressed. He slowly walked forward, the others parted, letting him advance towards Mamraj.

"Are you not a dancer, boy?"

Altaïr cringed, and bowed his head further. His skin crawled as he felt hundreds of eyes falling on him.

"Well then, why do you not dance when we command it?" He stood, trying to appear as opposing as he could against the Assassin's six foot stature.

Altaïr held his tongue, unsure of what to say entirely.

"Dance for us boy! We are here to be entertained, not to give a lecture!" He sat once more, a smile replaced the scowl on his weathered face. "We shall give you a chance to redeem yourself, for we are merciful!" The crowd cheered in response.

Altaïr watched, helpless, as the other dancers stepped back, leaving him alone in the center of the courtyard. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.

Ah yes, merciful. Exactly what I would have chosen to describe you.

Maria lounged next to Mamraj, reveling in the rolling breeze from the fanners on either side of him. Although she had several qualms about her mission, she did enjoy her privileges as one of his favourite handmaidens, especially when it came to hot outdoor events. She watched with interest sparkling in her eyes, as a group of young male dancers made their way over to the courtyard. She couldn't resist inspecting the next act with scrutiny– admiring their youthful physique. She raised an eyebrow as the last tagged behind them, his eyes darting around the crowd and the rooftops.

Curious…

She kept her eyes locked on him as they began to dance. His steps were untimely and awkward, his arms anything but graceful. She frowned. Seems the entertainment needed more practice.

She ducked at the last second, avoiding being hit in the face by one of Mamraj's arms. He signaled for the music to stop, and all eyes were turned back to him. Maria carefully replaced the veil over the lower half of her face, gazing back at the crowd intently. She scoffed along with the crowd as Mamraj asked what the young man was doing– her smile widened when she saw his unease turn his lips down.

After the music started again, he still stood, fixed to the ground– perhaps out of embarrassment. Maria did her part of staring at him until surely he burned from their collective gazes. He shook himself ever so slightly, and then took a starting position. Maria smirked at the tone his cheeks had taken, and the way his eyes remained fixed on the ground. After a few awkward steps, he began to fall into the rhythm, arms and legs taking grace from his years of combat training. Maria began to see through his plan, noticing slowed down forms of quite complex techniques. Soon, however, she felt her own feet keeping time to the music, as it shifted to a much more sensual riff. She raised an eyebrow as she watched his hips, as they moved with surprising ease to the new rhythm. His hand trailed down the front of his toned chest, and dipped over his abdomen, stopping just short of his protruding hipbone. She felt her cheeks burn as she realized how long his undulating hips had captivated her. She lifted her eyes to his broad shoulders, and followed them to the tips of his long fingers. She sat for a moment, biting her lip, as she watched them curl and fan, their length and lithe movements striving to allure her more than his hips. She was shaken from her reverie when she noticed his left hand missed a fourth finger, or rather, half of one. She puzzled over it for a minute, trying to recall what had startled her so much about it.

Altaïr felt the full length of every second he remained the center of attention.

Hide in plain sight– definitely not what I'm doing right now. How the hell was I supposed to get out of that anyways? If I killed the guard back there, I would never have been able to reach the others without them raising the alarm. If I didn't join the dancers, the guards would have grown suspicious, and then I would have been exposed anyways. Even if I had danced from the beginning, I still would have done something wrong to point myself out from the others.

He was surprised as he felt the ease of which his movements came, his arms and legs moved on their own accord, yet managed to keep in time with the music, and still look mildly graceful.

If only Malik could see what a foolish thing I've gotten into- he'd be grinning like a fucking idiot.

He scanned the crowd under the canopy where Mamraj sat, noticing that several of his harem appeared to be in attendance. His eye was drawn to the sultry gaze of his courtesan tease– somehow he had managed to find her again after everything that had happened that day. He felt the knot that had formed in his stomach tighten.

Of course she'd be here. Watching me.

He watched as her eyes fell to his hips, and lingered there. His unease morphed to mild pride as she pulled the corner of her lip under her teeth, and continued to follow the easy sway of his motions with her blue eyes. He attempted to continue his movements, to see just exactly what his motions could do to her, however, the music soon stopped, and the crowd applauded his efforts loudly. Altaïr made his way out of the center, and under the canopy where Mamraj sat.

"Now that," Mamraj murmured, "was quality entertainment."

Altaïr took the seat offered to him beside a few of Mamraj's handmaidens. The soft breeze from the feather fans felt silky against his warm skin. The lilting giggles of the women grew louder as they scooted closer to him, caressing him and praising his dancing. Altaïr tried to shrug their hands away, intent on only staying this close to Mamraj so he could poison him, not be felt up by loose women. Unfortunately he ended up having to stay put, as Mamraj stood, and yet again demanded a livelier act. Altaïr watched the blue eyed woman as she kept her eyes locked on Mamraj's back, in an almost protective manner. Altaïr took the opportunity to slide towards her, figuring if Mamraj, and his wine cup, were absent, he may as well investigate where another opportunity to strike would be.

"Salam wa aleikum"

Maria almost jumped at the deep, sultry voice that purred next to her ear.

"ahh.. salam to you too…" she managed to whisper.

"You are English, yet Mamraj keeps you in his harem?" he inquired.

Maria frowned, not wanting to grace him with a reply, "May I ask you just who you think you are? You address me as if you've the right to, and yet a moment ago, you could barely keep time to a simple tune."

"And you could barely keep your eyes from me." he countered.

She turned to glare at him, but faltered when she recognized him. The familiar burn return to her veins, and she blushed deeper when she realized who the man was.

The same bloody idiot who I ran into this morning.

She attempted to act calmly, "I was… just watching so I could make a mockery of you later."

"While alone in your bed perhaps?"

Both sat shocked at his comment, Altaïr more so than Maria.

Maria's eyes narrowed, intent on putting an end to his teasing, "You never did give me a name."

He brought his lips close enough to brush her ear, "So you can moan it later?"

A/N

Salam wa aleikum- peace be upon you

New chapter will be up soon!

'Till then, stay lovely!

(And review pls XP)