With a heavy sigh, he trudged on, of all the days for the sky to be utterly empty of clouds, it had to be the day they began reconstructing the town. The sun seemed to bore into Altair's very soul as he worked. Carrying more supplies with a couple of other men, a cart pulling along behind them, he continued on towards Nasira's home. He had, of course, just happened to pick this house, out of all others, as the one he would assist with. If anyone asked, he certainly hadn't chosen her house on purpose.
Arriving back at what was little more than a pile of rubble still, they began setting down their materials. Altair directed the others to go back again for another round of supplies, he would stay and start replacing the foundations. Heading inside what used to be the walls, but now only stood high enough to obstruct a person's view somewhat, Nasira had returned already and had begun setting up what equipment they had already brought before. He hadn't expected she would be helping, though he wasn't going to complain.
Working in silence, with only the occasional need to ask about progress, Nasira was obviously avoiding his eyes, likely still nervous from Zaina's teasing the previous day. As much as he wanted to ask, to see her reaction, he held back. There was no need to make her feel any more uncomfortable, not if they were going to spend the entire day working together. Altair hoped she could feel more at ease around him, he practically needed it, but he had no idea how to make that happen.
Constantly glancing over to her, he could see she was very confident in her work. It was obvious by the skill with which she moved, in the fluidity of her motions, she had a lot of experience, either rebuilding her house specifically, or simply construction in general. Finding she had such a skill, Altair reveled in discovering yet another facet of this woman before him.
A warmth, distinctly different, and far less sweaty, than that of the glaring sun, filled his chest. Subtle though it may have been, it spurred on his thoughts, tempting him. If only every day could be like this. Not specifically rebuilding a house. No, he wanted to see Nasira every day, to learn more about what makes her… her. To really understand every fiber of her being, and maybe, just maybe, she was aware of him in the same way. Though Altair knew that level of care on her part was unlikely, he couldn't help but wonder just what she thought of him, and how often her thoughts revolved around him the way his thoughts lingered on her.
Smiling… Altair was just over there, working harmlessly, simply existing. But he was smiling so gently, just the barest tilt of the corners of his lips, so small he likely wasn't even aware of it himself. Nasira noticed though, she had dared to toss her gaze his way for just a moment, his expressions she'd seen previously had been burned into her memory, as fears often are, so she knew, she could tell. This wasn't his usual neutral expression, which always looked a bit grumpy in her opinion. He looked so peaceful, but to Nasira, not knowing what caused it was more ominous than any frown or creased brow. What could he possibly be thinking about? What could make the head of a group of cold blooded killers smile so softly?
Interrupting her thoughts was the man himself, speaking about something other than whatever task they happened to be working on for the first time that day. "You work like you've rebuilt this room ten times before." When her only response was a telling tilt of her lips, something halfway between a grimace and a smirk, he paused "You… haven't actually done this that many times have you?"
A short breathy chuckle escaped her. "No, not quite, only about three times. I was a kid for two of those though, so I only helped with little things. And the destruction was usually less extreme than this" Not really intending to continue, the words flowed out regardless. Woodworking always had Nasira feeling a bit nostalgic, and nostalgia made her somewhat chatty. "My father was a carpenter, we built most of our furniture together. Or sometimes he would bring home spare wood and tools from his jobs and we'd make little toys together when I was young" Smile falling from her face soon after speaking, she felt the awkwardness only after the fact. After all, his very name was proof that he had grown up without a father, and here she was rambling about her own happy childhood and close familial relations.
Not that Altair actually seemed to mind, he even added his own anecdote about how the children training in the brotherhood would secretly construct toys and games from things they found lying around. Playing behind their teachers backs instead of training at times. A young altair, she couldn't deny that she was curious about what he had been like as a child. Nasira was certain they had met at least once or twice back then, Masayaf wasn't a particularly large village, everyone in town at least knew of just about everyone else. But her father had been hesitant to allow her too close to the castle, more accurately the dangerous men inside the castle, so she rarely interacted with the brotherhood members until she started working in the kitchens. And even now, excluding recent weeks, the members were content to let the servants go unnoticed.
Chatting away, reminiscing about their childhoods, the work didn't feel so laborious. Altair, surprisingly, had a lot of stories about the mischief he and the other children had gotten into. Or even more recent stories of some of the younger assassins' antics when out on missions. Apparently they weren't nearly as solemn and grim of a group as she'd always imagined.
Between both of them reciting old stories, time seemed to speed by, Nasira almost thought she felt disappointed to say goodbye, heading back to Zaina and Kaaf's. but then, that would be silly, what was there to be disappointed about? They would be continuing again the next day, and it wasn't as though she had been working on her home just to share memories. Nasira would be lying if she said it hadn't been at least a little fun though. Lately, Nasira was starting to forget why exactly she had found him so terrifying before.
There it was. Zaina hadn't entirely been looking for it, but she'd found it regardless. the pigeon that had stolen her potato pancake the previous afternoon. it hadn't even eaten it, simply swooped in, grabbed the pancake right from her hands, and dropped it on a nearby rooftop. In fact, the pancake had still been there when she passed that house earlier. Then, the pigeon proceeded to sit on that roof, just staring at her. the smug little sky rat. But thanks to that, she could recognize this one's particular markings. Her chance for revenge had come…
Reaching out her hand, crouched low to the ground, she never took her eyes off the bird. Moments later, her fingers brushed against a rock, sizable enough to injure a pigeon, but no trouble at all for her to throw far. Lining up her arm, pulling it back, she readied herself, she couldn't afford to miss her shot, the flying vermin would be off at the first sign of trouble. Only a moment after releasing her arm, the rock leaving her grasp, her aim true, a tall man in dark robes walked around the corner, directly into the line of fire. A dull thump resounded, louder in Zaina's ears than any sound she could remember, but to anyone else in the street, it was only just audible.
"I… I'm sorry. I was aiming at the pidgeon." Zaina had no idea what to do with her face, what sort of expression was she supposed to make when apologizing for hitting someone in the face with a rock? It had landed on his cheek too… it would definitely leave a mark. Inside, Zaina was in an absolute panic, her thoughts running through her head with such speed she couldn't register any of them, her mind may as well have been empty for all the good it did her. Instead of the sincere apology he surely deserved, she could muster no more than blankly staring at where the stone had collided with his cheek. Unable to choose any emotion to convey, she simply chose none, most certainly making her out to be cold and uncaring.
Face still turned to the side from the jolt of the impact, he began "A pigeon?" Maybe it was the impact to his head, or the absurdity of what he'd just heard, but Malik was speechless for a moment. This woman couldn't actually be serious could she? He wasn't even sure if he should be angry or not, though he suspected he should. The blank look she gave him, as if what she had said were perfectly natural and reasonable. On the other hand, her voice sounded mildly strained, as if fighting against showing both too much and too little emotion at once. "Listen, I find them as infuriating as anyone else, but you can't just go throwing rocks in the streets."
Ignoring him, her eyes trailed into the sky, without looking behind him, he was sure she was looking at the bird, its wings flapping loudly, mockingly, as it flew off. "What a shame, I'd have hit it if you hadn't gotten in the way…" As her gaze traveled off to the side, looking at nothing in particular, she simply appeared bored, there was nothing to be garnered from searching her features, even her eyes almost looked devoid of life and emotion. The strained tone from before was gone as well, leaving her voice just as empty as her expression. Did she care about this bird or did she not? Or was she simply that skilled at keeping her thoughts to herself?
Zaina still felt absolutely terrible for hitting him, and then she went and said that, he would definitely assume she was blaming him. She hadn't meant to say it, the thought had just slipped out before she could stop it. But what was she supposed to say? She had already apologized, poor as it may have been, and he had just been staring at her for several seconds, as if glaring directly into her soul. Getting away from him quickly would be best. "Well, you're clearly not too injured, you're still standing and you aren't even bleeding, you'll be fine. So I'll be going, I am sorry though." Before she could even fully turn around he stopped her, calling out to her.
"Hold on, you can't just walk away with a halfhearted apology. I mean honestly, at least look me in the eyes when you apologize." Malik was stalling of course, he was sure he recognized this woman vaguely, but he wasn't sure from where. Just a face he'd seen in passing? Likely. However, he felt compelled to keep her there, to make that bland expression falter, if only briefly. And he felt she owed him something, even if it had been accidental, he was petty enough to feel entitled to a favor and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.
While her expression didn't shift even slightly, he thought he could see a tiny spark of irritation in her eyes. To anyone else, the change would've been imperceptible, to him however, well, judging others feelings in order to manipulate them was a part of his job. And even this slight adjustment made him feel a hint of satisfaction, how he loved riling other people's emotions, especially those who seem so controlled at first.
Changing her demeanor more suddenly than he could've imagined possible, her lips parted slightly, breathily, brow lowering just a hair, gray eyes, glittering as though tears threatened to fall, met his own. Stunned by the shift, Malik simply stood, waiting, his one arm hanging limply at his side as she clasped her hands dramatically near her chin. "I'm so very very sorry, won't you please forgive me for my transgressions? I super duper didn't mean to!" Taking on a sickly sweet, childish tone, her voice grated on his nerves, even the small, hesitant smile she flashed as she rose from what must have been a sarcastic bow was the most ingenuine smile he had ever witnessed.
Malik had wanted to see her facade of blankness crack, but this… he hated whatever this was supposed to be. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the emptiness returned to her features. "Is that good enough for you?" her hands still clasped tightly by her face making the transition all the more jarring.
Disgusting, it took everything he had not to show visible discomfort from what he'd just seen, but he could still feel his lips turning up into a scowl, a small one, but a response nonetheless. "Quite frankly, I would have preferred you not do that."
"Ugh, so indecisive. 'I demand an apology!' Two seconds later, 'I don't like your apology, how dare you?'" rambling to herself, seemingly in a discussion with no one, she continued. "Honestly, why can't people just make up their minds? Fine, what do you want then?" All the while, her face and voice revealed barely a trace of feeling, only a tinge of frustration coming through in her tone.
Briefly wondering if he had happened upon someone mentally unstable, yet unwilling to simply walk away. "A favor." He said after a few moments of hesitation. Mirroring his words back at him, only in the form of a question, she waited. He supposed he should elaborate for her. "I don't have anything in mind right now, but I might think of something later. So, what's your name? If I choose to find you later I'll need your name."
Begrudgingly, she complied, anything he asked of her, she could just refuse if it was unreasonable. At least by offering, she felt a little less guilty about hitting him. "I'm Zaina, my house isn't far from here either" detailing directions to her home, she hoped he would drop the conversation and they could go their separate ways, and in her mind he would, of course, forget she owed him anything shortly. Zaina knew who he was, it would be difficult not to know for anyone living in Masayaf, and surely the second in charge and general advisor of a guild of freedom fighting assassins had better things to do than request small favors from simple villagers…
"Zaina? Ah, don't you know Nasira?" Just what was Nasira getting herself into now? She had been whining about Altair paying her too much attention lately and now another one of them was showing interest in her? Nodding her head in response, she held her tongue, unsure what he wanted. "She mentioned you the other day, thought she had a chance of beating me at chatarunga because" his voice jumped an octave as he poorly mimicked Nasira's voice "'I always beat Zaina with ease.' You must really be awful if that's the case."
Feeling her pride sting, but knowing she shouldn't, it wasn't like she cared much for the game anyway, she responded flippantly, relaxing her straight backed stance to a more casual posture. "I don't really play the game seriously, but you'd be right, I'm dreadful at those sorts of games." Why had Nasira been playing board games with this guy? Even if her fear was largely targeted at Altair, and even if it had been getting less extreme, her friend still found most of the assassins unsettling to be around. "Why do you bring her up?" Maybe he was just making conversation, though she doubted it, considering how the interaction had transpired so far.
"You see, Altair is interested in-" As the words left his mouth he could've sworn her eyes filled with concern. Not surprising really, she had probably misunderstood him. For Altair to be interested in anyone likely sounded more ominous than if he'd been referring to anyone else. "Let me rephrase that. Altair is… Really, he hasn't made himself very clear. I supposed he's enamored with her."
Zaina froze only a moment before she really registered what he said, barely containing her outburst, she held her hand up to her lips, as if that would contain her silent laughter. Shaking slightly as her form curled some, she wanted to release the laugh, but she was sure she would be given a few dirty looks by passersby. "Are you… Are you certain of that? He really… this is amazing."
She was almost laughing, he wished she would just laugh, rather than hold it in. Yet he felt her current mood might bode poorly for Altair's love affair with Nasira. Just what did she find so entertaining about this anyway? Much as he enjoyed mocking Alair, he couldn't very well ridicule him if he didn't have all the facts. She must have noticed his confusion, or at least realized the oddity of her behavior. "I'm sorry, it's just so ridiculous. I can't really explain though, secret between friends and all."
Allowing the breath of a sigh to escape, he accepted her answer for now, he was sure he could find out eventually. However, he could still make use of her connection to Nasira in another way. "About that favor..."
While the entire interaction hadn't exactly given her the best impression of Malik, Zaina was certain at this moment, his eyes glimmering with newly hatched schemes and his cold smile a clear warning of trouble to come, she wanted absolutely nothing more to do with this man. Yet at the same time, Zaina was a sucker for unconventional romances, and she wanted to know just how hardened murderers tried to woo a girl. Even if it was at Nasira's expense.