Based on the oh-so-helpful guidance of Skatjas, I revised a bit in the previous chapter. It's just a small section at the beginning, but if you don't want to reread, here's a quick version of what changed: Galila's father worked as a Vigilante (according to the wiki, Vigilantes are the ones who would grab guards and distract them so Altair could escape). Galila tells Malik that she thinks her father was killed while assisting an Assassin and believes it was an honorable death. That plus her story about her father-in-law being a Templar and how much she hated him is why Malik trusts her enough to talk to her openly about the Order.

And, for clarification, all of this takes place between Altair's second and third visit to Jerusalem. This is why Altair is meddling (trying to make amends in a way), and Malik is still a little grumbly. I don't remember exactly how much time passes between Altair's visits/targets, so I might be stretching out the timeline a bit in this chapter.

Thanks for all the reviews and follows and favorites! ~OhEyal

Part III

I was awoken in the middle of the night by a crash and an arm gripping mine.

"Malik!"

"Altaïr?" I whispered, blinking up at the shadow above me. I stiffened when I felt the cold of a blade at my throat.

"Who are you?"

"Galila," I answered quickly. "From the market."

He dropped the blade from my neck, and I noticed how labored his breathing was.

"Where is Malik?" He asked.

"Sleeping in the gardens." I put my hand on his cheek, feeling for a fever. He flinched away. "Altaïr, what is wrong?"

"I need help," he said and let himself fall back on his backside.

I scrambled out of bed and lit the lantern. That is when I saw the bloodstain on his sleeve and the arrow in his arm.

"I will get Malik," I said, but he grabbed the edge of my sarwal and stopped me.

"No." He shook his head. "Let him sleep. You can help me."

I hesitated, eyeing the arrow in his arm then nodded. Malik needed his rest, and I now knew where the bandages were.

As quietly and quickly as I could, I grabbed them and returned to Altaïr's side.

"Tell me what to do." I was surprised at how calm my voice was and how steady my hands were, despite having no idea what I was doing.

"Break off the end of the arrow," Altaïr said through a clenched jaw. "Then pull it through the other way, and put the bandage on tightly to stop the bleeding. Malik can sew it up in the morning."

I looked at the arrow carefully. It had gone clear through his arm. He was lucky it had not gotten caught on the bone inside. I wrapped my hands around the feathered end and closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I snapped the shaft quickly. Altaïr hissed.

"I am sorry," I whispered. He just shook his head.

"Keep going."

I nodded and handed him one of the bandages. "I will hold one to the back of your arm. You put this one on the front." He nodded in agreement and held his hand near the arrow to be ready. I shifted to position myself better and grabbed the arrow with my left hand. As smoothly and swiftly as I could, I pulled it out and pressed the bandage in my right hand to his arm. Altaïr pressed his bandage to the top of the wound and took three deep breaths.

"It is done," I said, and I replaced his hand with my own. I held the bandages to his arm with both hands wrapped around his upper arm. We sat like that, in silence, for a long time. He had closed his eyes again, like he was meditating.

"Altaïr?" He opened his eyes at my whisper. "I am afraid to let go."

He almost smiled. "It will be fine. I will help you wrap it so you can go back to sleep."

I nodded and, with his help to keep pressure on the wound, managed to wrap a bandage around his arm, tying tightly.

I sat back on my heels and looked at him, his golden eyes flashing in the lantern light.

"Why are you sleeping in Malik's bed?" He tilted his head.

I hoped it was too dark for him to see my blush.

"He bandaged my broken ribs," I said quietly. "And requested that I stay."

"Broken ribs? Why do you have broken ribs?"

"Hamid, the man from the market. He is my landlord—"

"I know who he is," Altaïr said harshly. "Malik was right to have you stay." Then he nodded to the bed and started to stand. "Go back to sleep. I will join Malik in the gardens."

I stood before him and offered an arm to help him up. He hesitated before taking it.

Just as he was about to step out of the room, Malik appeared.

"What are you doing here, Novice?"

"I am not a Novice," Altaïr sighed. It sounded like an old argument.

"Galila," Malik called to me over Altaïr's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"I am fine, Malik." I answered. "But please check Altaïr's bandage. I am afraid I did not do it right, and I think he is being too nice to tell me."

"Altaïr is never too nice," Malik countered, but turned to Altaïr again. "Show me what you did this time."

I followed them to the main room and sat on the chair, watching as they bickered and Malik sewed up both sides of Altaïr's arm. At Malik's nod, Altaïr told him how a guard shot him with the arrow, and at a look from Altaïr, Malik explained how I knew of the Assassins.

Eventually I gave up on their talk and moved the cushions Malik had abandoned and curled up. They smelled faintly of him, of spices and hashish. I fell asleep there.

.xXȮXx.

When I woke again, Altaïr was sleeping on some of the cushions nearby. Malik must have been inside with someone else because I heard voices. I stretched and sat up, noticing that someone had set my shawl next to me. I quickly unbraided my hair and ran my fingers through it before rewrapping the shawl around myself.

I had just finished adjusting it over my hair when I heard a new voice.

"What's this? The Bureau has its own courtesan now?"

I frowned and looked at the young man who had spoken. He was dressed similarly to Malik and Altaïr, and I knew he must be an Assassin. The way he was looking at me made my skin crawl.

"I am not here for your pleasure," I replied to him coolly and made to walk past him.

He stepped in front of me and grinned. "And why not?"

"Do I look like a courtesan to you?"

He looked me up and down, and I regretted asking.

"You look like a beautiful woman in a place where women do not normally come. So, yes. Why else would you be here?"

I scoffed. "You make assumptions about things you do not know."

I tried to walk past again, and again he stopped me.

"I know that my two hands can give you more pleasure than our Dai's one."

"Novice," Altaïr warned, having woken from our conversation. I held up a hand, stopping Altaïr from saying anymore.

I looked the Novice in the eye and said, "I think your confidence in your ability is likely compensation for something else that is…" I paused and deliberately looked down to his belt and back up before finishing, "lacking."

This time when I tried to walk past him, he let me, too stunned in that moment to stop me. However, I only made it a few steps past. As soon as he realized what I had said, he grabbed my arm and spun me around.

"How dare you?" He shouted, ignoring my gasp at the pain in my side.

Altaïr again stepped towards us, but I regained myself quickly and shouted back.

"How dare I? How dare you." I realized I was repeating Hamid's words, but I did not care. "You do not know who I am or why I am here, yet you judge me at one glance. Why should I not return the favor?"

"Because you are a woman. You should be more respectful."

"Oh, I should, should I? And what have you done to gain my respect? Surely being born male does not automatically garner you respect. By that logic, I should also respect men like Majd Addin. Is that your belief?"

The Novice stared at me, seething with anger, but he did not respond.

"I think you have won, Galila," Malik said calmly from the doorway.

I looked from the Novice to Malik to Altaïr and took a step back from the Novice.

"Walid," Altaïr said sharply, glowering at the young man. "We used the last of Malik's bandages last night. Go to the market and get more."

The Novice, Walid, nodded quickly and marched to what I now knew was the rooftop entrance.

As soon as he was gone, I turned to Malik. "I am sorry. I should not have spoken like that."

Malik shook his head and let out a small chuckle. "No, Galila. You were right in everything that you said."

"Walid needs to learn a few lessons," Altaïr agreed. Then he tilted his head. "Should I go find him and speak to him?"

Malik arched an eyebrow. "About what? The right way to be arrogant?"

I frowned at the comment. I had thought Malik and Altaïr friends. I watched Altaïr clench his jaw for a moment before saying, "No. About what happens if he lets his arrogance rule his decisions."

Malik looked a little surprised by that response. I had no idea what they were talking about, but Malik just nodded, and Altaïr left.

"Are you angry at Altaïr?" I asked.

Malik snorted. "I have been for a very long time." Then he sighed, and the anger seemed to leave his body with the breath. "I do not know anymore."

I watched Malik run his hand through his hair. I wondered if he had heard the insult Walid had made about his one hand. And then I considered just what Walid was suggesting about Malik and me, and I felt myself blush.

"I suppose I should go home."

"Gilah," Malik said, his voice softening the way it always seemed to when he used my real name. "Altaïr made a suggestion that I would like to talk to you about."

"Okay," I said slowly, and waited for Malik to explain. It took him a moment to start.

"You do not make enough money from your wares to live somewhere else, correct?"

"No," I sighed. "Especially not with what Hamid takes from me for using the space in the market."

"But other than that, you have no reason to stay with Hamid?"

I frowned. "No, I suppose I do not."

"Yesterday, when I mentioned you being an informant, what did you think?"

I wondered if he was going to offer to pay me for that work. If I were paid, I could find somewhere else to live. At the same time, I did not feel comfortable taking money from the Order.

"If all it meant was listening to people and telling you what I heard, I think I could do that. But I would not feel right taking money for it, if that is what you mean. I would help your Order however I can. You are the reason my father-in-law no longer lives."

He raised his eyebrows at that, and I sighed. "Majd Addin," I said, knowing the name was enough of an explanation.

He frowned then shook his head and asked, "So you would help the Order?"

When I nodded, he began pacing.

"You make your inks yourself, correct?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"You said you were educated. You can read and write?"

"Of course," I replied.

"And you know Hebrew? You can read and write both Hebrew and Arabic?"

"Yes, and some English." I drew my brows together, becoming more confused with each of his questions. "Malik," I said, stepping towards him. "Just tell me this idea."

He stopped and looked directly at me.

"Would you consider moving into the Bureau and working for us? You can teach me Hebrew, help me with the books, and keep me stocked with inks and quills. And I imagine your knowledge of the city is greater than mine, for I have I only lived here a few months."

I stared at him. "You want me to move in here. With you."

"No," he shook his head sharply. "Not with me. Well with me, but not like that. Although…" He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head again. "It would be a job. In exchange for a safe place to sleep."

I nodded and considered his offer.

"I would not be an Assassin?" I asked. "I do not think I could kill anyone. No matter how much hatred I may hold for them."

"No," Malik said. "Women are not allowed to be Assassins, but some help us in various ways. And Altaïr and I believe that Al Mualim, our master, would approve of you working here." He glanced at the empty sleeve on his left and grimaced. "Especially if you were assisting me."

I frowned and wanted to make sure that my presence would not hurt his pride.

"I will not clean up after you," I said. "And I will cook, but you will help cook. If I am here, I will not play your servant and will expect to be treated fairly."

"Of course, Gilah," he said, smiling at me. "You speak as though you are considering it."

"Serving an Order I respect, living somewhere safe, and having at least some freedom to be myself…yes, I am considering it. I have one condition though."

"And what is that?"

"I want to learn how to defend myself." When he frowned, I clarified, "Not to fight. I do not need to fight with a sword or anything of the sort. Just to defend myself. From men like Hamid."

"If I agree to that, you will agree to stay here?" He arched an eyebrow.

"If you agree to that, I will agree to work for the Order and live in the Bureau," I corrected him. There was a difference, and Malik understood, nodding and smiling again.

"A sharp tongue and a clever mind."

.xXȮXx.

Hamid was not pleased that I moved out and left the market, mostly because he was profiting from my being there. His wife was concerned that I was leaving for different reasons, until she saw Altaïr waiting for me outside the house. Then she cooed and giggled about how handsome he was and how lucky I was to have found a second husband. I decided to let her believe that, knowing I would likely not see her much, if at all. She was content following Hamid's rules and staying out of sight. As soon as I could, I followed Altaïr down the street, my meager belongings in a bag slung over my shoulder.

Altaïr left the next day, leaving Malik and I alone. That only lasted two days before other Assassins began to come. I learned the names of the more frequent visitors, finding that most were respectful of my presence. At first I thought this was because they assumed I was assisting Malik, but I quickly learned that was not the case. I discovered that Malik was well-respected amongst his brothers, and since I had his respect, I had theirs as well.

It was also from these Assassins that I learned bits and pieces of self-defense. Malik kept his word on that, but he said he did not want to teach me himself. He left it to the others to teach me to hit properly and to evade someone's grasp. I was not very strong, but I was assured that emotion would help me should I ever actually need to defend myself.

One of my favorite visitors, an older Turkish Assassin named Yunus, gave me a dagger. He taught me how to hold it and how to hide it under my kamiz. He told me he was once in love with a courtesan, and he learned from her how important it was for women to protect themselves. It was when he told the story of how she was killed that Malik finally agreed to teach me himself. He also began having me climb the walls around the Bureau and to improve my strength.

In addition to meeting and learning from the other Assassins, I also got to watch Malik practice with his swords. Sometimes he practiced alone, going through motions or attacking a dummy I helped him make of straw and spare clothes. One afternoon, I drew a crude likeness of Hamid's face on a scrap of parchment and pinned it to the dummy. I grinned at him when he found it, but he did not seem amused. The dummy was destroyed that night, and I had to build a new one for him.

I also watched him practice with the other Assassins. It was those afternoons that I truly understood what Malik was. He was fierce, and angry, and beautiful.

Yunus caught me watching one day.

"He was a good Assassin," Yunus said quietly. "Before he lost his arm."

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"You do not know?" Yunus looked surprised, but he shook his head. "I am not sure I should be the one to tell you."

I nodded in understanding and returned to watching Malik, with one arm, easily disarm Walid and bring him to his knees.

.xXȮXx.

As the days turned to weeks, Malik and I fell into a routine. I taught him Hebrew, made him inks, and helped him fill in details on his map of Jerusalem. He taught me to play shatranj and how to make salves and bandage wounds. When there were no Assassins in town, we were often quiet, discovering that we both were content to share the same space yet not fill it with words. We learned much about each other's habits. I began to tease him for always forgetting about his tea until it had gone too cold to drink. He, in turn, teased me about my sweet tooth.

I found I was happy, happier than I had been with Nasir. Malik was a good friend and a good companion, even when he was grumpy.

Yunus watched us argue once and told me I was the only person who ever seemed to win against Malik in a verbal match.

I did finally ask Malik about his arm one night.

At first, he just glared at me. When he walked away, I decided not to follow, feeling like I had made a grave mistake. Malik had done so much for me and asked so little in return. I did not want him angry with me.

I let him walk away, and I went to the garden, piled up the cushions, and laid back to look at the stars.

A few minutes later, Malik surprised me by lying down next to me. He left a respectable space between us, but I was still aware that he was near, feeling warmth radiate off of his body and smelling the incense and spices that always lingered around him. I knew now that most of it was from salves he had for pain and injuries.

He told me the story of Solomon's Temple and how Altaïr's arrogance caused him to lose so much.

He did not cry as he spoke, but I did.

When he was done with his story, I reached for his hand, lying still in the space between us, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I have learned that the paths we take are not always our own," I said quietly. "But I am grateful that ours crossed."

When I started to let go of his hand, he stopped me, twisting his fingers between mine.

We lay like that for a long time, holding hands and watching the stars.

.xXȮXx.

I had been living in the Bureau for nearly four months before I saw Hamid again, but when I did, I was unprepared for the effect he would have on me.

He scowled at me and whispered to the man he was walking with. I could feel my heart racing, and I grasped the dagger Yunus had given me, just to make sure it was still there. I tried to walk as calmly as I could across the square, but I could feel Hamid watching me. My anxiety caused me to forget why I had gone to the market in the first place, and I stopped, turned on my heel, and walked swiftly back in the other direction. I heard Hamid's laughter behind me. I am sure he knew I was fleeing because of him.

"I forgot to ask you to get more lemons," Malik said when I landed on the floor of the Bureau.

I did not respond. Once in the safety of the Bureau, I let the panic I had been fighting consume me. I fell to my knees and wrapped my arms around myself.

"Gilah!" Malik called and hurried across the room to me. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

I could feel his hand on me, checking for injuries. His panic broke through my own, and I looked up at him.

"I am fine. Malik, I am not hurt."

He met my eyes, and his hand settled on my cheek.

"What happened?" He repeated. I could hear the strain in his voice.

"Nothing," I said, closing my eyes. "I am just being a stupid woman."

"You are not stupid," he said, rubbing his thumb in a small circle on my cheek. "Tell me what happened."

"Hamid," I said opening my eyes again and looking into his. "I saw Hamid at the market, and he was watching me. And I panicked. All he did as look at me." I shook my head.

"Gilah," he breathed, and he pressed his forehead to mine. "Hamid cannot hurt you. He would not dare touch you in public. And here, here you are safe. I will not let anything happen to you."

"I forgot the lamb," I said. Malik just laughed.

"We will go together. How does that sound?"

I nodded, feeling the point where our foreheads were touching shift as I did. Then I pulled away from him, to look at his eyes again.

"I am sorry, Malik."

"No," he shook his head. "Do not be sorry. I am glad you came home." Then, in one fluid movement, he was on his feet holding his hand out to me. "Come. We need lamb. And lemons."

"And halva?" I asked, taking his hand and letting him pull me up.

"Yes, and halva." He shook his head, but he was smiling.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, and we walked back to the market side-by-side.

Hamid and his friend were still there. I tensed when I saw them, and Malik whispered to me, "I am here."

That was enough. His voice and his presence at my side was enough for me to lift my chin and walk right past Hamid.

We purchased the lamb and the lemons and had turned back to leave when Malik remembered the halva.

"I am surprised you forgot. It was your idea, after all."

"It is an unnecessary expense, Malik. I do not need it."

"If it will make you smile, perhaps I need it," he chuckled.

I shook my head and stopped in front of the stall that sold the sesame sweets.

Hamid appeared behind us.

"You still have no respect, Galila. You walked right past me without saying hello."

"And you have no place to speak with my wife," Malik stepped between us. I have only seen him look so intimidating a few times.

"Your wife? I had not heard the good news." Hamid's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"And why would we have bothered telling you?" Malik's voice was level, but cold.

"Well, I imagine the celebration was small and frugal." Hamid said with a cruel laugh. "It is a shame you could not find a more…gentle woman to take care of you."

I heard the layered insults there, that we could not afford a proper ceremony, that Malik needed caring for, that Malik could not handle someone less than gentle. I watched Malik's jaw clench, and I whispered his name.

Malik took a step towards Hamid and growled, "I am lucky I found her before you ruined her."

Hamid stared, opening and closing his mouth several times but seeming unable to articulate a quick response. Malik did not wait. He reached behind him for my hand and strode away, pulling me with him.

We walked past the side door to the Bureau, around the corner and down another alley to a stack of crates. When Malik started climbing the crates, I followed. I had always wondered how he got through the rooftop entrance to the Bureau. The crates allowed him to reach the roof without needing two arms. I followed silently, trying to sort out how to respond to the situation the whole time.

When we got to the roof of the Bureau, Malik stopped and ran his hand through his hair.

"I am sorry, Gilah. I should not have spoken such a lie. I should not have brought myself to his level."

"At least you did not stab him."

Malik looked up sharply, and I flashed him a smile to let him know I was teasing and to reassure him that all was well. He let out a huff of air and shook his head before dropping into the Bureau without another word.