The Story of a Rafiq

Description: Yaoi. Malik was given a book to write in years ago. Now that his life is seemingly crashing down, he decides to write in it and tell his story.. About his love for a certain assassin and how it grew.

Warnings: Rated M for a reason, there will be sexual language, acts, cursing, and possible other things. As it stated in the descript, this is a Slash/Yaoi/Gay situation story, don't like it? Probably should turn around :P

Disclaimer: I OWN THESE CHARACTERS. I AM UBISOFT AND I WILL BASK IN IT'S GREATNESS- Not really. :I Only time I'll be saying it, as always, I do not own the characters I use, just using them.

Note: The beginning starts out right after the second memory in Revelations. I will be working with the plot that the game left out there, but also not at the same time, for some...er obvious reasons of a certain someones death * cough* So if you see something that isn't in the game, or is diverted from what really happened, relax~ I know. XD

Note 2: Don't expect quick updates like my previous stories. I wont take a month each chapter, probably one a week, but I need to still focus on school xD

Chapter 1

Malik paced the bureau, ruffling his hair in his hand as he did so. He had just left Al Mualim with Altair. Why did he do that? He could have easily sent a messenger to Jerusalem for him, but instead he ran. His heart scolded his brain as he pressed his hand against the wall, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the coolness of it. He knew early on that he was in love with the other man. He knew it back when they were novices. Back when the Rafiq and the Assassin first met each other after being paired as sparring partners. He wondered for a moment at how exactly he came into this life.

Sighing, and sitting up, he walked over to a drawer and opened it, pulling out a book. It was blank, nothing written inside it, but it was worn, obviously cherished. "Might as well write this all down before it's truly lost," he murmured to himself, pulling out a quill and some ink, staring down at the blank pages of the poorly bound book. His hand hovered over the page for a moment, before finally lowering and writing...

Street rats. That's what Malik and Kadar were considered to be. They wandered around the town of Acre with nothing but the knowledge of their first and last names and the clothes on their back. They'd been on the street for two years now, Kadar barely holding on to the remembrance the face of their mother who was murdered in a back alley for Malik to watch. They never did have a father, something they wondered about, but never really bothered to ask their mother at the time, when she was still alive. Now, the hope of a father, was just a dream for the two boys to hold onto.

They were given their father's name "Al-Sayf" something they were not suppose to tell others unless they trusted them, for whatever reason that their mother would not say. Malik only assumed, even though he was roughly only four years of age at the time, that there was something deeper about his father that he didn't even phantom. He wasn't even sure he really wanted to, anyway. If their mother had gone so far out of her way to make sure they knew nothing of their father, why would he want to know why? Perhaps he was dead, or a murderer. An outsider, or a thief. Whatever the reason, he blocked it out of his mind never wondering more.

The boys became thieves, not that they really had any other choice. Starve or steal. It was unfortunate, and depressed Malik, but he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to damper any happiness or joy that his brother had left in him. Every morning, Malik would awake from their alleyway and venture out. On a rare occasion, he would find a bit of currency on the ground, not that he knew how to count it, and traded it in for a meal for the day that him and his brother could split. On other days, he would slink to the shadows, steal two pieces of fruit, then take to the rooftops, sprinting to their alleyway before anyone had even noticed the dents of the missing fruit from the bunch of others. Every morning he would tell his brother he found a bit of money for the fruit, but after two years, he was sure that Kadar knew that he had just stolen it.

It was fortunate, or unfortunate depending on the perception of the onlooker, that one day Malik had gotten the idea of attempting to pick pocket a man. He was obviously not from around there, he wore white robes, a hood, unlike the rags the people around him dressed in. He had weapons, but that didn't phase the boy as he maneuvered through the crowd, only pausing for a moment looking for an opening.

The man was speaking to a tailor, a crowd of people all around him. It was a perfect opening if there ever was one. Squeezing through the people, he made his way to the man, his hand outright, stretched and ready to take a hold of whatever money pouch he could see. Spotting his target, he grinned, nearly there, his hand closing around it.

That was when it happened: The man turned, as if he knew exactly what was going on, and grabbed the boy's arm, pulling him next to him. Malik looked anywhere but to the man's face till he felt him let go of his arm. His head shot up, his eyes scanning the face of the stranger. He wasn't mad, and what was even more bizarre, he was smiling! The man turned back to the tailor, handed him a few coins, and started off to the side, muttering, "Come with me boy, I want to talk to you," under his breath.

Should he run? Probably. Did he? No. He followed the man, curious as to who he was, and why he had such a reaction to almost being pick pocketed. He turned down a alleyway, where he paused, looking down at Malik, who held his hands in front of him, wondering if he should say something first. "I'm sorry," he finally uttered, holding back the sudden urge to cry. He was only seven. He hated living like this, and he hated that he had grown so much to being a thief that he even gave into the want to do such an act.

"What's your name?"

"Malik..."

"Well, Malik. Next time you want to go about picking a pocket, I don't recommend going about the way you did just now. You probably didn't realize it, but you acted as a vulture does, walking in a circle, telling your target you were there and after whatever it is he had to offer." Malik cringed. He hadn't realized he acted as such, and simply looked down. "Where do you live?" No answer. "Is there anyone with you?"

"My younger brother... Kadar," he whispered, figuring telling him his name was not going to hurt anyone.

"Do you like the life you have been given?"

"Not... not really, sir."

There was a short silence, before the man sighed, and knelt down to look Malik in the eyes, "Would you like a home Malik? For you and your brother? I have been watching you, you are very good at climbing. My brothers and I could teach you and your brother to do great things. Of course, you'd have to leave your thievery behind you," he stated.

Malik shook his head, "I hate being a thief. I only do it to keep my brother alive. But sir, what good could I do?" he asked, in a harsh whisper as he tried not to talk loudly.

"I can show you, Malik. You and your brother. I swear to you, I will do all that I can to teach you."

Malik didn't know what he was getting himself into. He foolishly nodded his head, earning a smile from the man, who stood, holding his hand out to him, which he gratefully took. A companion that wasn't just there because he was his brother, it was a nice feeling. He led him to his brother, who was overeager to go with the man, more so than Malik was, taking his free hand, heading to the gates of Acre where they met another robed man, who was silent and didn't speak a word.

The man who caught Malik had introduced himself as Tamir Asuf, and introduced the silent man as his companion named Majid, but didn't give his last name. Kadar rode with Majid on his horse, Malik on Tamir's. The older brother offered to ride with the stranger man, but the younger brother simply stated he didn't mind, that he was just happy to finally be going somewhere else.

The ride was about three days, Tamir had warned the boys at the start that it wasn't going to be a quick "get on the horse and we are there" but they both didn't mind. After living in the city and never leaving it, it was nice to see the scenery and what was out of it. After two days of riding, at nightfall, Malik's curiosity got the best of him. As Tamir slept, he took a hold on his sword, and held it in front of him, pointing it at a tree. The feeling of feeling so powerful to be holding a blade as such was indescribable. He bit his lip, turning his head to look at the sleeping man that so quickly took him in. Who were these men? He couldn't help himself but wonder. They carried weapons, hidden blades, they didn't seem cruel like the guards of Acre, but guarded and truly concerned for the people.

He heard a snap of a twig, spinning around to point the sword at the source of the sound, the blade clanging against Majid's blade, causing the small boy to stare up at him, eyes wide. "Be careful with that, Malik. You could poke an eye out," he said, speaking for the first time since they met. Malik clumsily lowered the blade, putting it on the ground as the other sheathed his own. "What happened to your parents?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he crossed his arms.

"My father left when I was one, and my brother was in my mothers womb... My mother... she was murdered two years ago..." Malik lowered his head, not to look the other man in the eye. He didn't want to show him any sort of weakness. The pain of seeing his mother killed still haunted him, and he didn't dare show it, least of all to a man he still wasn't sure he could trust.

"I apologize for asking," the man stated, turning his back to the boy, walking back over to his resting spot, and sat down, pulling out a knife and carving into a small piece of wood.

Malik watched him for a moment, standing perfectly still as he watched him. Finally, after a few minutes of mentally battling himself, he walked over to the man, and sat down next to him. "What are you and Tamir?" he asked, softly.

"Men, like you will be later on in life, of course."

"I mean, what is it that you are going to teach us? You aren't normal people, that much is certain..."

The man hesitated for a moment, before sighing and letting his hands drop slightly, "We are Assassins." Malik froze. Weren't those worse than the guards in Acre? "We are nothing like what you've heard on the streets I assure you. We have creeds we must follow. One being, never kill an innocent. We do not randomly kill, Malik. We kill those we need to, to help our cause... to help the world..."

Hearing those words comforted him. To kill only bad men, helping the world out by ridding of them. It was a just cause. Something he could see himself training to do as well, even though he knew his skills were only in running and climbing.

"Do you know of your last name?"

Malik blinked, and nodded slightly, "Al-Sayf..."

The man grinned and nodded his head, handing him the now carved piece of wood. "That is the symbol of our creed, of our brotherhood. I think you have a lot of promise, Malik Al-Sayf. You will be a great assassin."

The boy reached out, taking the carving from the man and studying it. He could have sworn he had seen the marking somewhere before. He looked up to Majid, and earned a caring smile. He smiled back and held the symbol in his hand. "We should probably go to sleep," he said softly, the assassin chuckling as he nodded his head, slumping back against a rock. Malik curled up next to the other man, leaning his head against his arm, and closing his eyes, trying to sleep, briefly wondering why he suddenly felt the need to trust the mysterious man.

The morning came all to fast. Majid lightly shaking Malik awake, and helping him up on his horse after he insisted riding with him. Kadar was fine with riding with Tamir, who told stories of different wars in other countries, and other stories of love and romance that left Kadar giggling stating that it was gross. The ride seemed like it was never going to end, not that the two boys were complaining about it. They were happy, enjoying themselves as they listened to every word that was spoken as if it was a drug, and they were addicted to it, yearning for every bit they could get.

They rode up a trail, over a slight hill only to pause as they reached the top. "Masyaf," Malik breathed, staring out at the tower that lay behind the town. He looked back at Majid, who nodded his head, Kadar making a soft "ooooh" sound as Tamir laughed, lightly kicking back on his horse making the horse break out into a quick trot, Majid's horse following close behind. The elder of the brothers couldn't help himself but to feel a bit giddy as they rode to the gates. As they dismounted their horses and were led through the town, more and more white hooded men could be seen the closer they reached the tower.

"Tamir, Majid, safety and peace, welcome back."

As they reached the gate, a man who seemed all to serious to be greeting Malik and Kadar's new companions stepped forward, nodding his head, and scanning his eagle-like eyes over the two boys.

"Umar, safety and peace, it is good to see you again brother," Tamir stated with a grin.

"Safety and peace, may I have a word?" Umar nodded to Majid, stepping off to the side with the other in toe, only stopping to turn and huddle together with them as they whispered to each other.

"He's scary..." Malik looked back at Kadar as Tamir lightly laughed.

"He is, isn't he? But don't misjudge him. He is as graceful and helpful as the eagle, but he knows what he is doing and is as cunning as any wolf out there," Tamir noted, Malik looking back at the man being discussed, their eyes meeting, sending a shiver down his spine.

"We're to take them to Al Mualim," Malik looked up to Majid who was smiling down at him, kindly. Malik didn't know what kind of connection he was forming with Majid, but all he knew was he was able to trust him. Whoever this Al Mualim was, he knew that it was someone that Majid trusted, as did Tamir. He took the other man's hand, and followed them taking his brother's hand in his free one and stepped forward, heading to wherever this man was inside.

Ha cha cha~ How was that? Like so far? Leave a review please and let me know~ It always makes me smile to get one x3