Freezing, white specks of snow spiralled down from great cushions of grey cloud that covered the sky. Altair stuck his hand out from inside the souk. Flakes gathered in his palm, nipping his skin with a chill before melting into slush. Perplexed, Altair scoped up a handful of the white stuff that was slowly blanketing the roof he was on. It was combat and solid in his hand, so cold that it shot all the way up his arm. Throwing it against the side of the souk, Altair watched as the ball splattered and slid lazily down into the sprigs of hay. Scowling at the slush, the assassin slivered out of from his hiding place, batting the curtain away in frustration. Confusion was not something he was fond of, and this...stuff was making him confused.

Shivering violently, Altair flew across the rooftops. The leather of his boots crunched as his feet pounded against the white blanket, kicking up white powder in his wake. It was so cold it soaked through the leather of his boots and up his legs, chilling his core and other places he refused to mention. Sword and belts whacked against his body, the clinging pieces of metal fogging over. Testing his hidden blade, Altair stared down at his wrist as the slim blade failed to appear in the place of his missing finger. Flexing and clenching and growling with irritation Altair gave up, cursing colourfully before leaping over the gap in the roof.

The stone roof slabs were slippery and he was having trouble with his footing. The soles of his boots slipped and slide, squealing in protest as his arms flailed. Falling to his hands and knees against the roof with a heavy thud, Altair shook his head feeling dazed at the sudden change in position. Sitting up on his knees, he peered at his hands, fingertips an angry red as they shook within the gashed leather of his fingerless gloves. This was ridiculous.

After much determination, Altair finally approached the Bureau. The white covered lattice had never looked so inviting. It glowed with the promise of somewhere warm with hot food and a place to rest as his clothes and weapons were repaired and cleaned.

"Altair, do you have my feather?" Altair lifted his head up, lips curled into a small smile. Malik stood on the roof a couple of paces away. It was not surprise that the rafiq was up here, after years of boredom and frustration of being treated like an invalided, Malik had taught himself his assassin skills all over again... one arm climbing included in the mix. Altair fished the feather coated with his target blood from his pouch and rolled it between his fingers. He watched as fog curled out from Malik nose as he exhaled. It was an extraordinary sight and Altair soon realized that fog was coming out of his nose too.

"What is this white thing?" Altair asked, catching a white flake in his hand and holding it out in hope that Malik would see before it faded. The edges of Malik's lips quirked upwards in amusement, charcoal eyes regarding the assassin softly.

"You do not know snow? You should start studying other things in life that are far more enchanting than killing people" Malik teased, tugging at the folds of his hood. Altair cocked his head, ignoring the banter.

"Snow." He said, the foreign words rolling on his tongue. 'What is this...snow?"

Malik shrugged flippantly walking towards Altair.

"One of Gods many mysteries I suppose." Malik took said taking one of Altair's hands in his own. They were icy to the touch, skin flushed and glaring back as they shivered. Malik shook his head and flicked his gaze up to look at the slightly taller man.

"You're freezing, how long have you been out in this?" Altair bit his lip and shook his head, averting his gaze to look anywhere but those eyes he loved so much.

"I'm fine." He insisted, moving to withdraw his hand only to have Malik's fingers tighten around his own. Sighing with a puff of fog Altair bowed his head. "I feel asleep in the souk and when I awoke this so called snow was falling from the heavens."

Malik chuckled, pulling Altair towards the roof lattice. He crouched and slid the hatch to open the roof entrance. There was a slight gush of heat from fires no doubt burning in the room below. Altair hoped through the hole, feet leaving a wet puddle on the stone floor as the snow melted off them. He help out his hands to Malik who for once in his life wasn't stubborn and accept them, allowing Altair to help him down into his bureau.

They sat on the cushions, wet clothes replaced with dry ones as they sipped hot herbal tea. Altair tilted his head back and watched the beads of snow twirl and dance through the smoky grey sky. This snow, his first snow, was truly beautiful.

A/N: Inspired by Doubleleaf's picture http: /doubleleaf .deviantart. com/gallery /#/ d32cgwv (remove spaces) If anyone has a DA account can they tell Doubleleaf I did this. It was seriously fun to right, even if I felt kind of chilly afterwards.