Altaïr x Male!Reader

A Book And An Eagle

White robes and a hood rushed through the winding, grassy path leading up to his home. The assassin's guild of Masyaf, more like a castle, really. Recently, his mentor had sent a pigeon stating his urgency to have him back for a new mission. One of upmost importance. So, with a drop of sweat streaking down the master assassin's temple, he hurried on.

The doors to the massive castle slammed open. Another assassin, noticing the rushed man's presence, walked up to him.

"Altaïr, he is waiting for you upstairs." He said. The assassin, now known as Altaïr, gave no notice to his lesser brother. Not even slowing his pace as he ascended the rock stairs, soon reaching his destination to his most trusted and skilled mentor, Al Mualim. The elderly man stared out an immense window (more like the frame of one since there was no glass to go with it), his deep and wrinkled eyes heavy with the sight down below. Turning around, hands still clasped behind him, he found Altaïr, already on one knee, head down, an arm resting on his leg, the other at his side. He was simply, waiting. Waiting for his next mission.

"Rise, my child." said Al Mualim. Altaïr slowly stood.

"You're orders, sir?" he asked, head still bowed in respect.

"There is another one here who resides in this castle. I want you to go to them, they need guidance." The mentor replied. The younger man groaned.

"I thought this was important. But here you are, sending me out to help novices, of all people. Why can't someone else do it?" He snapped, arrogance seeping through his words.

"Because I command it of you Altaïr!" Al Mualim spat back. The assassin said nothing. The elder man sighed, walking over and placing a steady hand on his student's shoulder. "It is because I trust you with this task. Also, I fear no one else but you can make him listen."

"Fine, where can I find him?"

"He is likely where he always is, among the fellowship's books in the small tucked away corners. Find him, and continue his training." Altaïr nodded in response. As soon as his mentor turned his back, he left, setting out to his objective.

It didn't take long, to find the novice. Partly since the known library of assassins wasn't that big. But mostly because all Altaïr had to do was follow the murmured comments of other brothers who spoke things like,

"Why does he only read?"

"Shouldn't he be training?"

"At this rate, he'll never be a master assassin, or really anything above a novice."

"I heard he has escaped every trainer Al Mualim has sent on him."

They all seemed to flourish around a certain area. So, soon enough, after rounding another corner in the small maze Altaïr found you, the beginner he was sent to educate.

Looking at your clothing, there wasn't much to see. The standard white robes, leather belt, and bracer. But the most noticeable commodity was your hood. It rested lightly on your shoulders instead of on your head. Ultimately, revealing your face. And any assassin's face was something rare to see. Your eyes nimbly scanned the worn book in front of you. Your chapped lips slightly open, mouthing words every now and then. And your scarred hands, which the light seemed to hit perfectly, exposing your thick but quick fingers which danced across the pages and every so often reached up to brush a short strand of hair away from your face. Truly, a strangely peaceful sight to see.

However, that peace was soon disrupted when a shadow blocked out the sunlight that had been falling on your book. You sighed loudly, 'this again'. Looking up to see Altaïr your eyes twitched in mild surprise. You had tough trainers sent on you before but Al Mualim must be deadly serious now to send this one. A true master assassin whom practically everyone admired, but was known for his cold heartedness. Smiling shyly, you spoke, simply stating your name and a 'hello' as a friendly gesture. Altaïr only stared back with a stony face.