Hawks and Eagles

A Tangled Flight

You must have fallen asleep, stirring yourself from a dream to find Altaïr standing at the window and his eyes looking out across Masyaf's immensity. You knew what he saw. You had memorized the specks of faded grass weaving between the mudbrick homes and the distant streak of a pale tan desert skirting along the horizon. But even as Altaïr looked out upon it, his mind seemed to be focused on other things, on memories and thoughts that were bothering him.

You sat up in bed, pretending you didn't notice the concern displayed across his expression. "I half-expected you to send Rauf back in here."

Altaïr let his attention linger on the window a moment longer before walking the small expanse of the room. "Why do you say that?"

"You avoided me before..." You rose a brow when he briefly glanced over at you, the absence of his hood making each of his features all the easier to admire. "Or is there less reason to avoid me after the second kiss?"

Altaïr stopped at the foot of the bed, sweeping his attention upwards to your face. "We are both Assassins. That has not changed."

You nodded your head, suppressing the smile that was beginning to surface. "You're right." You gathered your belts, awkwardly strapping them down into place, the muscles in your arm and hand working slightly better than before. "Since we are both Assassins and... both skilled warriors who are capable of taking care of themselves... you won't mind if I leave."

"Leave?" Altaïr didn't sound pleased at all as he watched you slowly stand and shuffle for the door. "And where do you plan on leaving to?" He placed a firm hand on the door, preventing you from opening it.

"A bath." You rose a challenging brow. "I haven't had one in some time and..." You shrugged a shoulder. "Well, I'd like one before I return to al-Rahman."

"You want to return to al-Rahman? Fine." Altaïr grabbed hold of your arm, threw open the door, and pulled you through the halls and down the stairs. "First, prove to me that you could handle yourself."

"I don't have to prove it." You struggled against him but he held the arm that was weakened by the spear. "Your permission isn't necessary, remember? We are just two Assassins."

Altaïr halted just before stepping out into the gardens. "Yes. Two Assassins that have looked out for one another." He drew up his hood, pulling it down until you could no longer see the pinching of his brows. "You think yourself so capable then best me in the ring." He walked off towards the training grounds without bothering to wait for your reply.

"Fine." You shouted at his back, "I will!"

Along the walk towards the dusty training area, you realized how foolish of a mistake you were making. Your arm was still sore, gelatin and listless, barely having regained its strength. If you held your sword, it would be a miracle. But you couldn't allow Altaïr to win an argument. He was already arrogant enough as it was. Losing to him would make things so much worse.

"Back already," chimed Nizar who had the widest of smiles. "I imagined I wouldn't see you for at least a few more days."

Altaïr pointed towards the sparring Assassins. "Leave. This area is needed."

Nizar huffed, tossing his attention towards his students. "The last I checked, Altaïr, you were still only two ranks above Novice."

Altaïr stepped towards him, jaw clenched tight as he spat, "Your favorite pupil has decided she is fit for combat." He threw a hand towards you as you slowly made your way over. "She would risk her life out of stubborn pride."

Nizar tsked at you with a shake of his head. He waved his hands towards the Assassins in the ring, motioning for them to leave. "Go clean up your armor and retire for the evening. We shall continue our lesson in the morning."