A/N: Hellllooooo! Next chapter yay! Kinda long, might be a bit serious for some, but I really feel as if I'm on to something great. Once this chapter is out of the way they rest should start to flow smoothly and quickly. I think the toughest part of this chapter was coming up with a title hahaha! Hope you enjoy! I love to hear from you! :-)

Also, I want to give a massive shout out to the "anonymous" Heather for the recent support! Wish I could PM you, thanks so much!

DISCLAIMER: I will never own the sexiness that is Altaïr, nor the amazingessicity that is Assassin's Creed. *SIGH*

Into Hands

I broke Mular's nose. Badly.

So for the next three or four weeks I followed him around, blubbering my apologies and trying to make it up to him. He, of course, just laughed and complimented me on my strength. I, in turn, was disappointed in myself. I hated that I let my anger get out of control. It had just infuriated me when Mular suggested there was sexual tension between Altaïr and me. I know I never want to share a bed with that idiot assassin again.

"Lamya, if you apologize to me again, I'm going to break your nose," Mular growled as I followed him out of the dining hall.

"You do realize that's about the seventh time you said that," I pointed out, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. He paused just outside his bedroom door and turned to face me. His now crooked nose had somehow made him more attractive and the dark bruises under his eyes had just finished fading.

"Yes, I suppose it is," he sighed, "I'm sorry, I guess I just couldn't harm you without probable cause."

"I broke your nose," I said dryly, crossing my arms over my chest and raising and eyebrow, "and why are you the one apologizing, I'm the one who should—"

He cut me off by placing a hand over my mouth. "Please, Lamya," He whispered, "Do not say you are sorry. If I needed your apologies I would demand them of you. That's who I am; I tell it how it is. And so I truly mean it when I say it doesn't matter. I'm honestly impressed with your strength, though you definitely need to work on your temper control."

"So I've been told…" I muttered, scuffing the toe of my boot on the stone floor, staring down. I sighed and looked back up at him. "Please, if you do think of a way for me to make it up to you, let me know. I'll do anything."

Something flashed in his eyes and he started to grin, leaning back against the door-frame. "Well…you could always join me in my quarters tonight and we can…discuss it…" A raised eyebrow and a wink gave away he didn't mean discuss in the traditional meaning.

"MULAR!" I exclaimed, only slightly horrified but I played it up. He laughed at me and ruffled my hair.

"I was only kidding," he gave me a tired smile and nodded before slipping into his room and closing the door. The bolt sliding home was eerily audible. I shrugged and wandered down the hall, wondering what I could do with the rest of my evening. I wasn't tired enough to go back to my quarters and sleep, I'd had the day off and accidentally slept nearly to noon.

With a sigh I left the stronghold to walk around the town, hoping to find some form of entertainment within. Sure, there was a great place to go get a drink and sing with all the drunks, but I didn't want to do that for a while. The other night I'd had too much to drink and woke up feeling like a horse had stomped on my head. So I was avoiding alcohol at the moment.

I made my way to the front gates and paused, smiling to the four guards, or assassins really. A few of them smiled, recognizing me from the other night's shenanigans. I had recently been given permission to go a bit outside the town walls, seeing as in almost two months Ghalib hadn't tried anything stupid. So with a nod to the men I walked past the gates and over to the stable where the horses were tied up.

"Good evening, Gi'hal, I greeted the stable hand who dozed by the door.

"Hrmf," the old mad looked up at me from under long grey locks with dark eyes. He stood and stretched his thin limbs, straightening his brown robes as he did so. "How are you this evening, Miss Lamya?"

"I'm…perplexed," I said, then paused, "Well I don't know if that's the proper term. I feel quite befuddled with what's going on with my life right now, and I feel useless which is frustrating."

"Well, my dear, as I always say, a good ride clears the mind," He smiled, flashing a toothless grin. God only knows how old he is, but he's the sweetest man I've ever met. He grunted and jerked a thumb towards the interior of the stables, "I would offer to help you with the horses, but they like you just as much as me, if not more, hahaha!"

"They will never love me as much as their Abi," I said with a grin before clapping him lightly on the shoulder and making my way to the stable containing my favorite riding companion; a dapple grey mare named Isha. Throughout the duration of grooming and saddling her up, I talked softly to her to give comfort. She was the best mount for night riding, but many horses do not enjoy being out after dark. I think it's the whole "prey animal" thing. Regardless, I knew once we got going she'd be happy.

I rode away from town a bit, taking the main path for a while, letting Isa get comfortable with the bridle and the night. Once she started prancing about in her happy little manner, I pushed her into the gallop I knew she wanted. I let her run for several minutes until she slowed on her own accord. Only then did I lead her off the path to a large patch of grass that stopped at the edge of a plummeting cliff. I dismounted and removed the bridle, telling Isha to stay nearby before walking to the edge of the cliff and sitting down.

With an exasperated sigh I looked out over the land sprawled before me. Something needed to change. Ghalib had to be up to something, but was somehow keeping it quiet. I knew there were members of the brotherhood in Jerusalem constantly, working their best with contacts or whatever methods they can muster up to get information, but nothing so far had surfaced. There had to be some way to shake the foundation on which Ghalib and my father stood. For some reason my people, for they were still my people, look up to my father and his illusions. And I was sure that in the few short months that had passes since my disappearance father had already put Ghalib into a good light.

I needed them to second guess their leaders. I need them to remember me. Perhaps if my father or Ghalib were caught in a scandal the people would stop being so trustworthy. Or…the scandal of someone they both trusted and encouraged the people of Jerusalem to follow…yeah. That could work.

"Now what could it be, Isha," I murmured to the mare who nickered softly behind me. What did I already know…

"That's it!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. Isha snorted behind me and stomped a foot. I spun around and quickly fixed the bridle back onto the mare and swung up into the saddle, riding at a full canter back to Masayaf. My loud entrance to the stable yard roused Gi'hal from his nap, and since he was already up I tossed the reins to him and promised to make it up to him later with extra help.

I ran through the town as quickly as possible, winding my way through the streets and up the many hills. A couple times I nearly crashed into the few people left milling about, but I made it back unscathed. I didn't stop until I was inside near the halls that lead to Al Mualim's chambers.

"Hi! Sorry I'm so late," I greeted the four guards in their immaculately white uniforms. They stared at me silently with dark eyes. Creepy. "Anyway…is Al Mualim still awake? I have an important proposition he will be quite intrigued to hear."

"My apologies miss," one of them said, "but he retired early tonight. He has a meeting early in the morning, so if you want to speak to him, you must see him before the meeting."

"Great," I frowned.

"Well," the eldest guard spoke up. He was tall and lean with grey spackled black hair and brown eyes. I knew his name, I think, but at the moment it escaped me. He continued, "I will speak with Al Mualim, and since I believe the meeting is in reference to your home city, you should be able to at least sit in on the meeting. I'm not sure how long the discussion will go on, but you should get the opportunity to tell your news and be a part of the meeting."

"Splendid!" I clapped my hands together, "What time is the meeting to occur?"

"An hour after dawn," He replied.

"Wonderful," I commented with fake enthusiasm, "I'll be there, and hopefully be able to join."

They guards nodded to me and I left, returning to my room. I quickly stripped off my clothes and crawled into bed. Recently I'd taken to sleeping in nothing but my undergarments. After locking the door, of course. It was just so hot and I enjoyed the feel of the cool sheet against my skin. I curled up in a ball on my side and let exhaustion over take me.

We sat in the courtyard within the fortress, our various chairs, stools and cushions positioned in a rough semi-circle at the edge of the garden under the trees and blossoms. The water could be heard crashing against the cliff, so far below. Al Mualim sat in his own bench with pillows, perched before the fountain. We had formed our half-circle to face him to listen as he spoke. Several of the men had protested to my presence but Al Mualim seemed amused.

"So," Al Mualim started, rising slowly to his feet to pace, our eyes following his every move, "it is imperative that we find a way through the dense forest that is Muhammed Afzal I'timad's and Ghalib Amir's social armor. Our people, some of them being among us now, have been able to uncover a few, somewhat useful facts against them, but it is still unknown to us what exactly they are planning and the information they have on us. I have called this meeting because we need a new plan of action. Because we have tried using stealth, trickery and sources, I propose we attempt a new approach; the army."

"What...do you mean, sir," Altaïr spoke up, sounding angry. I was surprised to see him here; he'd been gone in Damascus for weeks. Not that I cared.

"I mean we attack the army. NOT directly," Al Mualim responded, holding his hand up for silence when everyone burst into loud protests. "We should attack their rations, their shelter. Find ways to disturb their rest. I know this isn't a definite solution, but I think it will be a big step. It may even be possible to collapse the army."

The men began to murmur amongst themselves, some nodding in approval. Are they really that stupid? I know they're desperate but seriously?

"It won't work," I said softly.

"What did you say, Miss Lamya?" Al Mualim turned to me, an intrigued spark in his eyes. I had a feeling the same guard from last night had indicated I would speak up. I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous.

"It won't work," I said louder.

"How the hell would you know?" Altaïr spat.

"Silence, Altaïr," Al Mualim commanded with a glare at said assassin. He then nodded in my direction for me to continue.

"Well…none of you know my father as I do." I looked around at everyone and ended up with my gaze on Al Mualim, "Since I was young enough to understand politics, and trust me when I say I was quite young, I made sure to pay attention to everything that was going on; including matters that included the army. The defense of the city, after all, is vital. My father knows that and has always done his best to keep the army as fit as possible, in every way. When I was…probably seven or eight, an enemy of my father tried the exact thing. It worked."

I took a deep breath and slowly rose to my feet, "But you must understand how clever my father can be. He has perfected methods over the past ten years to prevent such an occurrence from ever happening again, and it's fool-proof. You'll only waste time, energy and probably lose a man or two in the process. What you need, is someone trustworthy on the inside."

"Yes, well we don't have that," Altaïr sneered. He was really starting to get on my nerves. I turned to him with a wicked smile. Somewhere along the way my nerves had cooled down and I was returning to the political woman I'd strove to be for so long.

"But of course you do; me," I turned back to Al Mualim, "I have contacts in all cities. Many, if not all, are quite supportive of my endeavors. I have taken care over the years to make sure I have a strong personal relationship with each and every one of these men and women. Also, several of these contacts are indebted to me, meaning they owe me one or more favors, which I have yet to call for repayment. There is a woman in Acre, whose name I will not reveal quite yet, whom I believe to have the ability to help me and, in turn the brotherhood, with this particular mission."

"And what does your plan involve, dear," Al Mualim smiled at me, amused. He didn't seem to be taking me seriously. I gazed at him levelly, my back straight and head held high.

"There is a man living in Jerusalem who is held in high esteem by Ghalib and Muhammed. For some reason unknown to us at this point, my people follow my father's every move, and apparently now Ghalib's. Because this man is portrayed to be such a holy and wonderful person, the people trust him. This is not a war, yet, Al Mualim," I took a step towards him with a heated stare, "Right now, this is all about political savvy, which I have in abundance. If a scandal is revealed, and not in either of our targets' favor, then the people of Jerusalem will stop trusting them and then they start talking. Gossip is the downfall of all great men."

I whirled back to face the group of men, now silent and watching me. I moved to the side and clasped my hands behind my back, probably looking more like a man than a woman in my short black tunic and red pants, "I propose that I go undercover in a major household in Jerusalem. Once there, parading as a simple servant or maid, I can work my way into the trust of the Lord and Lady of the house. After a solid relationship has been established, I will be able to expose the Lady as the adulterer she is, thus showing the man revered by Jerusalem as the liar he truly is. This will shake the foundation of the city's society to the core, therefore beginning the destruction of trust."

Everyone was silent for a few seconds. I glanced at Al Mualim, who was looking at me as if I'd finally done something interesting.

"No," someone said. I recognized the voice and turned back to see Altaïr sitting with his elbows on his spread knees, fingers pressed together as if praying. The hood of his eyes hid his eyes, and his hands covered his mouth and most of his nose.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, no," he repeated.

"You have no say in this," I nearly growled, "Al Mualim is the only one who has the right to determine what will take place."

"It's foolish," Altaïr replied, obviously through clenched teeth. "You will be captured and then everything will be spoiled. Keep your childish whims to yourself."

"Hold your tongue, Altaïr," my voice was rising with my anger. "You know nothing about my world and how to win this; I do."

"He raises a valid point, though, Lamya," Mular spoke up with a frown, "It seems dangerous for you to be so near to those who know and are searching for you."

I smiled at Mular, not as sweetly as I probably should have, "The first point I will make, is that they will not be looking for me in Jerusalem. They may have within the first two weeks of my disappearance, but since my father knows his people are loyal to him, he knows they would return me to him. So he is most likely searching in other cities and small settlements. The second point is that my appearance has changed greatly since being here. I was never the typical princess, constantly being pampered with oils and lotions, but before leaving I still had soft hands, I wasn't allowed out without my skin, face and hair being covered. Since coming to Masayaf, I have been able to cast aside those niceties and actually work, as I've wanted all my life. My hands are rougher, my hair has lightened substantially and my skin is darker and not as…creamy, pure, however you want to say it. You do not see this because you didn't know me before, but I did, and I see the change. I can easily cut my hair much shorter and in an unflattering fashion. No one actually knows my face besides my immediate family, and posing as a new servant girl, I will never travel to the palace."

"You can't just march in there and expect to get a job," a man named Kazeem said.

"I know that. The contact that I have in Acre, the one I mentioned earlier, is very close to me and owes me such a large favor that if I ask her to lie for me, to give a recommendation, that I will without doubt get the job. She has a great reputation and many ladies of nearby cities know her name and it would be a dream come true to have an actual conversation with her. I also know that she would not breathe a word of my return; she trusts my judgment too much and she despises my father." I turned back to Al Mualim. "Sir, this will work. It will not be a quick process, but as I stated earlier, this is not a physical war, not yet."

"She's right," Mular sighed. I turned slightly to nod my thanks of his approval. He was studying me with a guarded expression.

"Are you out of your minds?" Altaïr hissed. He had barely moved since I began my speech. "This is crazy. She's talking like a lunatic."

"Silence, Altaïr," Al Mualim commanded in his booming voice. We all looked at him expectantly; I moved back towards my stool. "I do not recall asking for your opinion. I find Lamya's plan to have significant merit."

"So, does that mean you agree and will allow me to carry out the plan?" I held my breath in anticipation.

"Yes. I think it will work well," Al Mualim smiled and sat down. Finally. Finally I'd be able to contribute and help. I tried not to grin too much as I returned to my seat.

"Thank you sir," I bowed from the waste.

"But," he held up a hand. I paused, half way to being seated, "before you leave you must be able to handle yourself. I understand you are a great archer and fairly good at hand-to-hand, however you must be better at both."

I straightened and nodded, "Of course."

"And," he continued, "You must be able to wield a blade. I will not have members of this Brotherhood embarking on missions without being fully able to care for themselves. That being said, your training will change to include lessons with a long sword, short sword, dagger and throwing knives."

Oh…crap…

A/N: SO? What do you think? I've decided I'm going to make this story MUCH longer than I initially intended, and I'm excited to get started. I know this chapter may be kind of boring, but it is the predecessor to a great storyline that should really be interesting. Loves ya! 3