Note: I do not own Tangled or Assassin's Creed.

The air was thick with the mist that seemed to cover the land. Alongside it was the noise of the shouting, clanging of metal against metal and the screams of the battle raging between Richard the First's army of Crusaders and the Saracen army of Saladin, making this land with a mist sound like it was something out of a horror or a suspense/supernatural film, only this time it was real. Even the sky itself seemed to have taken to this supernatural mood as it was completely grey and barely any sunlight was breaking through the crowds to the ground below. It was as if though the clouds were trying to obscure the battle with the mist and the clouds, just for extra measure, from the sun so it would not see the bloodshed and the dying of the warriors on both sides.

In one part of the land just a few hundred metres from where the battle was raging, at a kind of crossroad of pathways between two small rocky hills, to which wooden walls were built around and tents were set up, signalling this was the camp of one of the two sides fighting in the current battle, a different kind of battle, different in not only that it was much smaller than the larger one being fought nearby but also who it was between, had just ended, the bodies of the fallen littering the ground, never to rise again. They were all dressed in a kind of white or light silver armour, some having silver helmets on, and others red. The red helmeted men were Templars. Gathered around the scene where the battle had taken place were more men dressed in white armour, some with or without the helmets of either colour. Among them was King Richard I himself, standing in his red armour, his arms crossed, looking out over the scene like some kind of spectator. His eyes, moving back and forth between the bodies, finally rested on two figures in the middle of the battle space.

One of them was one of his men, a tall bald headed man of about thirty, maybe a little older, with a heavy build and dressed in thick silver armour with a kind of similar coloured cloak lying below him, it stained slightly with small spots of blood, was lying almost completely on the ground. His neck was stained with more blood coming out of a wound just below the collar of his uniform. The name of the man was Robert de Sable, a French Templar crusader and the lieutenant of King Richard I. His head was being held up by another man who was kneeling down beside him. He was around about the same age but was dressed in a kind of large white cloth with brown boots and thin armour on underneath the cloak, a small belt around his waist with a small pocket of throwing knives and a small blade attached to it. A sword holder was also attached to the belt, the weapon withdrawn into it. His name was Altair, an assassin, the sworn enemy of the crusaders and the one who had inflicted the wound on Robert that would almost certainly kill him now.

The result of the fighting here moments earlier was the bodies of the fallen soldiers lying scattered. Altair had arrived here to confront Robert, someone he deemed to be his 'final target', and had told Richard of Robert's plot to kill him and take the Holy Lands for himself and the Templars. Richard had not believed him but neither Robert when he insisted that Altair was lying, and so he left it in the hands of someone who he certainly knew was wiser than him: God. Now, the bodies were the result of that and they were about to be joined by Robert very soon.

"It's done," Altair said to Robert, making eye contact with his enemy to finally show him he and his plans were no more. "You and your schemes are put to rest,"

Robert, to Altair's amazement, though he did not show it, just chuckled weakly, coughing slightly as he did. Schemes! Ha, he knew nothing!

"You know nothing of schemes, boy!" he said, a weak but determined smile creeping across his face, staring back into the penetrating eyes of Altair. "You are but a puppet, Altair. He betrayed you, just as he betrayed me,"

Altair stared into Robert's eyes with disbelief, but also determination in trying to find an answer to what he was saying, but it just made no sense. Who had betrayed Robert? More importantly, who had betrayed Altair?

"Speak sense, Templar!" Altair demanded. "Or not at all!"

Robert's smile faded a little, but it still remained on his face as if still laughing that Altair did not know what he knew.

"Nine men he sent you to kill yes?" he asked in a sarcastic manner. "Nine men who guarded the treasure's secret,"

"What of it?" Altair asked, the demand still lingering in his voice.

"It was not nine who found the treasure, boy. It was ten,"

Altair went a little wide-eyed upon hearing Robert's words. "A tenth?" he almost exclaimed. He paused for a moment, trying to calm himself so as not to let Robert know he was scared or shocked, even though Robert knew how Altair would react to this. "None may live who carry the secret," he said calmly. "Give me his name, Robert," he ordered, his other hand, which was curled into a fist around Robert's chest cloth of his uniform, tightening a little.

Robert just smiled again, though this time it went slightly bigger than before. "Oh, but you know him very well. And I doubt that you'll be as eager to take his life as you have done with me,"

"Who is it?" Altair demanded, his voice almost shouting now. Another pause and Robert only coughed. "Tell me his name!" he shouted.

Robert just chuckled again. "If you wish to know, Altair, then you will find my lieutenant. With me gone, only he now knows who this tenth person is," he coughed again and his breathing became heavier, the smile now fading completely into a slightly open mouth, trying to draw several last breaths to keep the body of the person they were part of alive. "Your master will know where he is. He always does with people like me…"

Then, with one last breath, Robert's head dropped sideways and his eyes closed, his mouth open slightly, but no more breaths came in or out of it, nor would any more noise ever utter from his lips once again.

He was dead.

Altair moved his hand from behind Robert's head, letting it thud to the ground. He released his other hand from Robert's cloth and stood up, staring with complete disbelief in his eyes at Robert, his mind going blank with shock, unable to comprehend what he had just been told. A tenth had found the treasure as well? How? And what of Robert's lieutenant? Who was to say he had not told anyone else? Where was he anyway?

Footsteps drew Altair's eyes up to see Richard and several of his men, who had their swords drawn, walking towards him, ready to attack. Adrenaline began to refill him, ready to fight his way out of here. Luckily, though, Richard halted and held out his arm, halting his men as well.

"Well fought assassin!" he congratulated, looking down at Robert's corpse. "It seems the Lord favoured this today,"

"No, god had nothing to do with it, sire," Altair replied, looking back down at Robert as well. "I was the better fighter,"

Richard gave a slight chuckle. "You may not believe in him," he said, looking back at Altair, meeting his gaze. "But he certainly seems to believe in you,"

Altair did not reply. He just stood where he was for a moment, still as a statue, his mind replaying everything Robert had said to him and the past few days' missions. He had been over much of the Holy Lands these past few days, going from Masyaf to Jerusalem to Damascus to Acre and it had finally ended here at Assaf, or so he had fought until what Robert told him of his lieutenant.

He half turned to walk away, but Richard stopped him.

"Wait, assassin," he said, stopping Altair and making him look back at Richard. "Before you go, I have a question for you,"

"Ask it then," Altair replied, not hiding his demand, wanting the answer to come now so he could go back to Masyaf and talk to his master.

Richard nodded. "Why?" he asked. "Why travel all this way, risk your lives a thousand times, and all to kill a single man?"

A pause hung in the air for a moment as if Altair was trying to remember everything. Why he had been sent to find and kill Robert, why he had been sent on this enormous task to kill the Templars. Even though it had all been very recent, it seemed so long ago like some kind of different memory now.

"He threatened my brothers and what we stand for," Altair replied tonelessly.

"Oh," Richard replied, raising his head a little in a kind of nod in realisation. "Vengeance drove you to this then," he said.

"No, not vengeance," Altair told him. "Justice," he added as if the word stood out. "Justice so that there might be peace from his death,"

Richard gave him a puzzled look. "This is what you and your brothers fight for?" he asked as if the answer was too hard to find himself. "Peace?" he gave a slight laugh. "I thought you would have seen the contradiction out of your task,"

"Well, some men cannot be reasoned with," Altair pointed out.

"Like that madman, Saladin?" Richard inquired as if knowing he was a perfect example of what Altair was saying to him.

"Not really. I think he would like to see an end to this war, sire. Just like you would,"

Richard half turned, raising his hand as if already knowing about these words Altair was telling him.

"So I've heard," he replied lowly in a slightly annoyed manner. "But never seen," he added, looking back at Altair.

"Sometimes it doesn't come from what they say," Altair explained to him. "Even if he does not say it, it is what the people, Crusader and Saracen, Christian and Muslim alike. It's what they both want,"

Richard scoffed at this. "You must be mistaken there, assassin. The people do not know what they want," he said. "And It's that very reason why they turn to men like me and Saladin so we can show them what they want,"

"Then it falls to men like you and Saladin to do what is right," Altair replied.

Another scoff. "Nonsense! We come into the world kicking and screaming from the wombs of our mothers. Violent and unstable. Those two things stick with us right through our lives assassin, whether for our own ends or for peace or war or whatever. It is just what we are. We cannot help ourselves,"

Another pause. The noise from the battle continued to fill the air. Screams and shouts and metal against metal seemed to emanate out of the mist, sending a chill through the air. The men, though felling it, were not frightened. Whether it was because they fought it was the Saracens that were being slaughtered or whether they believed they had God on their side even if they were losing was hard to tell. Maybe they were scared, but they were hiding it well, even without the helmets. Then again, that it was being a soldier is about. You are taught to hide your fear, no matter how much it will want to hide you. Difficult at first, but after a while, after seeing blood and comrades be torn in two and other atrocities that can be committed both on a battlefield and in a residence of that of your enemy, it does not affect you as much. That is the strange thing about fear.

"No," Altair said lowly as if he had been corrected by Richard. It was true though. Even he had been violent and unstable and had carried that with him through his life. Look at what he had done that had gotten him onto this huge task in the first place. He had been violent and unstable then, going against the creed of the Assassins. It was just Human nature. "We are what we choose to be,"

Richard gave another slight laugh. "It really does amaze me, assassin," he said to Altair. "Your kind. You're always playing with words,"

"I speak the truth!" Altair snapped. "There's no trick to be found here,"

"We'll know soon enough. But…" Richard half turned, looking back at Robert's corpse. "I fear that you cannot have what you desire this day. Even now that heathen, Saladin, is cutting through my men, and, like any responsible commander, I must attend to them. But perhaps…" he stopped and looked up at Altair. "He will reconsider his actions," another pause and he nodded to himself. "Yes, in time what you have hoped to gain here today, assassin, it may become possible in the future,"

"You were no more secure than him, sire," Altair replied. "Do not forget that. The men you left behind to rule in you're stead did not intend to serve you for longer than they had,"

"Yes, yes," Richard nodded, agreeing with Altair. "I am well aware of that, assassin. I may even thank you for that,"

"There is no need," Altair turned and began to walk away back up the path that he had come to here earlier on. "I'll take my leave, sire. My master and I have much to discuss about this lieutenant of Robert's,"

"Do not try and think of him as some kind of animal, assassin," Richard said to Altair, stopping him momentarily. "He is only Human, as are we all,"

Altair nodded and looked back at Richard over his shoulder. "Safety and peace be upon you, sire. I hope you and Saladin find a peaceful solution to this war,"

He looked back ahead of him and began walking up the path towards a turning at the end, leaving Richard and his men to watch him go.

Altair now had a new mission. He would have to get back to Masyaf and tell his master about this lieutenant of Robert and hope they would be able to find him and put an end to him as well, obviously hoping that he would be able to find this tenth Templar Robert had told him about. After all, despite the conversations he had just had with Robert and Richard, he knew that no one who knew the truth could live.