Continuation from fagsona pt. 2

[dontaddwater]

Altair hopped down from his own horse, tying him to the opposite post. He untied his bags, tugging a fruit out of one of them, holding it out to his horse. It began to eat it enthusiastically, nipping bites from it until it was down to the core itself.

"It was... difficult," he said, the admission itself difficult. Altair ran his free hand down the horse's mane, trying to distract himself from a conversation he didn't want to have.

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[dontaddwater]

There was a soft whisper of shifting grass beneath Altair as he fidgeted a little awkwardly. This was... new to him, to say the least.

"Thank you."

At the very least, his gratitude sounded genuine. He even bothered to look at Malik over his shoulder as he thanked him.

[rafiq]

It was perhaps because he sensed Altair’s glance that there was a twinge of a smile on Malik’s lips, or perhaps it was simply the absurdity of hearing “thank you” come from Altair’s lips. Only a cool wind and the occasional chattering of the horses separated the rise of their whispers, making Malik alert to the sound of Altair shuffling grass.

“You sound restless,” Malik noted aloud. “You should sleep. We have much to do tomorrow.”

[dontaddwater]

It was hard to see Malik's smile in the dark of night, and even harder to see Altair's from under his still risen hood. He turned back to his side, curling up not unlike a cat might in the pleasure of sunlight.

"Yes," he agreed. "Sleep well."

[rafiq]

The morning came as swiftly as it had left them. Malik found himself the first to rise, and he readied the horses for their departure as Altair slept. They had been lucky enough that their night had gone by undisturbed by guards or looters, and Malik found there was a certain pleasure in the feeling of being well-rested for once. This was, after all, and uncommon luxury for an assassin. Once he had shelved their belongings across the horses’ back, and once he had equipped his waist and wrist guards, he headed over to Altair—

But stopped promptly before kneeling to wake him. He smirked. “Were you dreaming of a woman?”

[dontaddwater]

As an assassin, one learned to sleep lightly, and always be conscious of your surroundings. However, in a situation like this where one's guard could be lessened just slightly, Altair's slumber seemed to be as stubborn as him. Malik's shuffling as he prepared the horses did not rouse him. It was only when Malik's feet were close to him that he stumbled awake, incoherently muttering something as he bolted up. He met the other assassin's gaze, confused.

After a second or so, he fumbled away from Malik, eyes wide. Of all the days for this!

"I- no! It's..." Altair didn't dare stand; it'd make the embarrassment worse. (His glaringly red face didn't said enough on its own.) He bundled his robes closer to him. "It's nothing!"

[rafiq]

"Is it?" Malik crouched down, glancing on teasingly. "Your libido seems to have woken up before you."

[dontaddwater]

"I do not know what you're talking about, Malik," Altair huffed, only turning redder under Malik's gaze. He turned his back to him, distracting himself with readying his bags. How was he supposed to calm down while being ridiculed? Though, to be fair, it was hardly far from the normal dynamic between them. Altair was too flustered to even give it thought that Malik might even just be playful right now. (How rare.)

[rafiq]

"Ah, but I think you know exactly what I'm talking about," Malik answered, exhaling a small laugh as he pushed off from his heels and came to stand.

[dontaddwater]

Altair pointed a severe glare at Malik, throwing his hood up over his messy, short hair after he was sure Malik saw his disapproval of his teasing.

"I am afraid I don't," he reiterated, and as he felt himself begin to calm, he finally got to his feet. Altair wasted no time in hopping onto his horse, tying his bag behind him. He grabbed his canteen of water out of the side pack, drinking some, and pouring a bit onto his hand to splash on his face. The morning was cool, but his face was burning. Altair did not remember what he dreamed to cause his reaction, but he cursed whatever it may have been.

[rafiq]

Malik followed Altair’s example, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and mounting his horse. He was still carrying a vague smile on his face from the antics of that morning. “So eager to get back on the road,” he joked. “You’re welcome to some time alone, should you need it.”

[dontaddwater]

"I'm beginning to miss the silence we had starting out on this trip," Altair growled, gripping the leather reigns tighter, digging his ankles into his horse's side to urge it into a trot - just enough to put himself in front of Malik.

[rafiq]

Malik simply looked on as Altair took the lead, easing back on his horse with a sort of smug satisfaction. He had no protest to silence. He had already won, after all.

[dontaddwater]

Altair did not view it as a competition; but if he did, well, he would not have dropped the matter so easily.

He was unusually quiet for a good while. The dawn was seeping warmth into the sky and air, oranges and pinks replacing deep blue and veiling the stars again. The sun would peak through the hills now and then as they furthered down their path, casting long shadows over the grounds. Altair took these sorts of mornings for granted, most days.

Even minutes down their path, Altair did not speak a word. Perhaps he was still annoyed at Malik, or was not a morning conversationalist - or both.

[rafiq]

Eventually their shadows disappeared, and with it went any crispness from the morning air. It was now hot, muggy, and the horses began to lag in their traverse. The day had remained relatively quiet, apart from the two assassins occasionally barking directions at one another to avoid a guard confrontation or to point out a (supposed) shortcut. Malik, for the most part, had relented his teasing.

Several miles later, they arrived in their target city. There was a small market set outside the city gates populated with merchants dressed in middle-class garb. They sold a variety of crafts and crops, and added color to the otherwise dry scenery with their dyed goods. There were guards interspersed among the droves of people, but none seemed too alert. Altair and Malik were able to make their way to the stables with ease.

[dontaddwater]

The day seemed average upon surveillance of the area. A good day for a mission. Altair was still alert, back straight and shoulders even, because you never knew who would make an enemy out of you. No one gave them second glances, as far as the assassin could tell; couldn't possibly look at them and know they were assigned to kill.

Upon reaching the stables, Altair leaped off the horse, pulling him by the reigns under the awning. He tied the horse to the rail, looking to Malik.

"Let us make haste."

[rafiq]

“Lead the way,” Malik acknowledged, assuring his horse was secure with Altair’s before giving his full attention.

[dontaddwater]

They merged easily into the crowd, slipping through the entrance to the city as though they were one of the average citizens passing through. The markets were busy, bustling with people too busy to even glance at them before shoving through, and many begging for money. (A lot of the time, Altair had to push them out of the way if they wouldn't relent.)

"He should be in the center of the town," Altair said to Malik, close enough where the noise of the streets hid their voices from anyone else but themselves. "He is meeting with someone. We are to listen in, and strike once they separate."

They were looking for a man named Hazim, and another named Fayyad. Their meeting carried important information about weapon trading; specifically for an attack. It was vital to leave with the information, and without the two alive.

[rafiq]

“We should see if we can collect any information first,” Malik reminded, keeping the gap between Altair and himself at a short length. “If they do not have the plans on their person, we will not benefit from killing them first.”

[dontaddwater]

"That is why we will be listening to their meeting," Altair repeated sternly. "Would you rather interrogate them? That is not our mission."

[rafiq]

"I would rather you not act before you think," Malik jeered back.

[dontaddwater]

"I am doing just as our mission demands," he bit back, scanning the crowd for any sign of the men they were looking for.

[rafiq]

Malik was silent, but no less angry with Altair’s response. If Altair was responsible for their mission’s failure, both he and Malik would be held accountable, and Malik had no interest in shouldering the blame for Altair’s impatience and stupidity. After a few minutes, however, the anger lines on Malik’s face began to fade. His expression did not soften, but straightened in attentiveness. Two men that matched the description of their targets had entered the market scene, holding stretched out in front of them what appeared to be a long scroll of parchment.

[dontaddwater]

Altair didn't need to confirm the sighting. Malik's gaze was right where his was.

They kept a safe distance, silently tailing the men. Their targets were familiar to these crowds, weaving carefully through them, and wisely avoiding alleys. A couple minutes of trailing brought no suspicion, but the area was becoming less populated. Just as Altair was considering a new hiding spot, the two men slipped into a building. It was tall, almost church-like, and what windows it did have were high.

"There's probably a room in back where they will meet," Altair said, heading towards the back of the building, flexing his fingers to get ready to climb.

[rafiq]

Malik nodded, making sure his weapons were secure in preparation for the climb. "Let's hurry."

[dontaddwater]

Their footsteps were swift and silent, even as they climbed the stone walls hurriedly. Sticking out of the wall, just below the windows, were some wooden stake they could easily perch on. Altair hoisted himself up, balancing carefully, pressing as close to the wall as he could. His fingers gripped the stone to steady himself, and he motioned Malik to the next pole over.

[rafiq]

Malik reached the pole's apex not long after Altair, and hia glance immediately followed the wave of Altair's and. Their targets, hraving since disappeard into a building, reappeared under an open canopy of splinter ped planks. The criss-cross of wood obscured the face on their targets, but they were clearly recognizable in their colored garments. Malik could overhear them from his perch. They seemed to be talking about a shipment that had just been brought in by cart.