Malik was lying in bed, head bandaged and waking up from a deep sleep. He yawns quietly, stretching a little.

"Finally awake, I see" Altair says from a chair beside him. He had taken it upon himself to guard and dote on Malik like he was a toddler or a precious artifact.

"How long was I asleep?" Malik asks with another sleepy yawn.

"A day, or two," Altair said simply. "I never actually counted. You were breathing, so I assumed you weren't dead."

"I can see your potential as a healer, Altair" Malik says sarcastically, feeling incredibly hungry from being asleep for so long.

"Hungry?" Altair said, and pulled a bowl of something brothy looking up from its place on the floor. Whatever it was, it was green, and lumps of something were floating in it. Altair looked at him expectantly, and Malik didn't think he knew, but his gold eyes were sparkling like an enthusiastic kid.

"...Yes..." Malik murmurs hesitantly, staring at the strange green concoction and praying that Altair was playing a joke on him. He wasn't even sure if the green goop was safe to eat.

Altair pushed the bowl further into Malik's chest, smile growing. Malik didn't feel at ease. It was almost similar to the smile he used when he was killing Templars. Almost.

"Uh...Who...Made this?" Malik asks as he slowly stirred the soup with the spoon. The smell that came from the bowl could fell a horse...

"I did," Altair said. "I contacted Leila by pigeon. She gave me the recipe. Most of your books were burned in the fire. I don't remember what color she said it should be..."

"It...Looks great, Altair..." Malik forces out, not wanting to hurt his feelings but fearing for his life as he starts building up the courage to eat the slop Altair made him.

Altair smiled wider, and jumped to his feet. "Good. You eat that up and ill fetch you more for later," He said, bounding happily towards the door.

Malik nods quickly, waiting for Altair to leave so he could get rid of the green watery poison currently in his hand.

"Akil!" Altair called down the hall. "Are you hungry?"

"I am a little hungry, brother Altair..." Akil says shyly, peeking out of a door. Malik looks around desperately before seeing a potted plant nearby. He expertly tosses the contents of the bowl so that they land in the plant's soil and it is quickly absorbed by the plant. He then pretends to be wolfing down the soup when there was nothing left in the bowl. "You are quite the cook, Ibn La'Ahad" Malik praises, hoping Akil wasn't foolish enough to eat the soup.

Altair brightened from the hallway, puffing his chest out and grapping Akil's upper arm. "Good! Did you hear what Malik says? I made good soup. It's Leila's recipe, too."

"Well, if it's sister's..."Akil trailed off, a smile creeping on his face.

"Ill fix you a bowl while I get Malik another one," Altair poked his head into the room. "Did you finish your first bowl?"

"Yes, I did and I'm very full. You don't need to get me another one" Malik says quickly, letting out a nervous laugh. The plant was already turning yellow from whatever was in that bowl and he was not willing to see what it would do to a person.

Altair nodded, "At least you're fed. I'll bring you some water after I feed Akil."

"Akil's going to have some soup?" Malik asks in concern, eyes widening slightly. Oh no...If Akil died, Malik would have to deal with a very angry Leila...

Altair smiled at him. "Yes, he is. He heard how much you liked it, so now he's curious, too. Actually, I think he wanted to tell the rest of the novices that there was enough soup for them, too."

"You know, Altair, I don't think that's such a good idea...T-The novices are on a special diet" Malik lies, not wanting to make Altair feel bad but also not wanting to lose all of his men due to food poisoning.

Altair looked put out, crossing his arms for a moment like a child. "But it took all day to make that soup," he half-whined.

"I'm sorry, Altair, maybe another time" Malik soothes him, relieved that he gave up so easily.

Altair kicked at the air and retreated out the door for a moment. "Sorry, Akil. Malik says all novices are on diet. No soup."

"A diet? Since when?" Akil asks curiously, his head cocking to the side.

'Damn your innocence, Akil' Malik thinks to himself when hearing this, frowning and groaning a bit.

Altair frowned and leapt back into the room. "Yes, Malik, what diet?"

"The...Diet I just invented in my mind..." Malik mutters in resignation, bracing himself for Altair's reaction.

Altair deflated and sunk into the chair, running a hand through his hair. "If...you didn't like it...you could have just said so."

"I'm sorry, Altair, but cooking is definitely not one of your strong points" Malik says with a frown, shaking his head slightly.

Altair looked at the empty bowl, disappointed. "I only wanted to help."

"Well, the intent was good and that is all that matters, Altair. Don't be so sad" Malik tells him in an attempt to cheer him up, almost preferring the angry Altair to this.

Altair shrugged and collected Malik's bowl. "I'm not. Seeing as how you never actually ate, I'll see if I can buy something from the marketplace instead. What do you want?"

"Try to find some goat stew. It will do me good. Thank you, Altair" Malik says sincerely, smiling at him and still feeling terrible about the soup incident.

Altair nodded and disappeared out of the room.

The marketplace was gloomy and not as busy as usual. Approaching Mama Isra's, Altair looked at the old hunched over woman, hands shaking as she stirred some soup. "What would you like, child?" she said.

"Goat stew, extra hot." Altair said.

"Hmm...You have a sick family member?" The old woman asks with a soft, trembling voice as she pours some stew in a bowl.

"More or less," Altair said, fishing out his money. "Make it two bowls, if you can. For later."

"Young man, the best way to speed healing is to show the sick person that you love them. The stew alone is not enough" The old woman tells him wisely as she hands him the bowls. "That will be thirty ducats, effendi."

Altair resisted the urge to blush and almost hastily paid her. Taking the two bowls, Altair left for the Bureau.

Malik was groaning quietly, his head feeling as though it was being split in two but he was too weak to call for help.

Akil popped his head in, looking nervously at the Dai. "Dai Malik, is there something I can do for you?" He said softly.

"My head...Please...Some salve..." Malik pleads hoarsely, knowing the smell should help his headache as he clutches at the bandages with his one hand.

Akil scurried away quickly and returned with the salve. "What do you need me to do, Dai?" he said.

"Spread it on my temples and chest" Malik tells him, letting out another long groan as his headache intensifies.

Akil flushed a little, and nodded, "O-of course, Dai Malik." He poured the salve in his little hands and went to work.

Malik was too caught up in his own pain to notice or care about how well or how badly Akil was doing, eyes closing tightly as his teeth clench to bite back a frustrated yell.

Akil drew back when he was finished, rubbing off the excess on his pant legs. "Is...Is that better, Dai?"

Malik shakes his head slightly, wanting nothing more than to take an axe to his own head to end his agony.

"S-Sorry, Dai," Akil said softly. "I guess I didn't-"

"MALIK!" Altair yelled. "ARE YOU AWAKE?"

Malik jumps and nearly cries out in pain at the noise, curling up under the sheets and cursing Altair quietly as his fingers tighten on the bandages.

Altair stopped, shoving the bowls into Akil's arms. "What's wrong with Malik?" He said, hurrying towards the Dai to pull the sheets back and examine him.

Malik's eyes crack open, reddened and wet with misery and his hand was clutching at the bandages on his head so tightly that they started to tear. "Dear Allah, please don't yell again" Malik begs, his voice cracking a bit as he lets out another small groan.

"Eh? Oh. Sorry," Altair said softer. He motioned for Akil to put one bowl. "You can leave, Akil. I'll take care of him. Thanks." the younger nodded and hurried out with the other bowl. Altair exhaled and sat down quietly in the chair. "How long has your head been hurting? You probably need some food. You haven't eaten in a long time."

"It started a few minutes after you left" Malik murmurs, wincing as the pain starts to come in waves of intensity, some tolerable and some unbearable.

Altair gently propped Malik up, careful not to jostle him too much. "Open up, Malik," He said softly. "Try to eat something. At least a little bit." He put the spoon in the broth and brought it to Malik's bottom lip.

Malik opens his mouth and takes the spoon in, eating the soup slowly. "Mama Isra's?" Malik asks softly, recognizing the taste and smiling a little.

Altair nodded. "The best old broad in all of Jerusalem when it comes to cooking."

"I agree...Thank you for getting me the stew, Altair" Malik whispers as he continues to allow Altair to feed him more stew.

Half way through the bowl, Altair had settled on Malik's lap childishly, scooting a little closer with each bite his partner took.

Malik notices this and blushes, starting to eat a little faster as Altair approached him and wondering what he was planning.

Altair was almost knocking foreheads with him by the last bite, and looking more intently on his mouth than the rest of him.

Malik blushes bright red, looking into Altair's golden eyes intently as he swallows the last mouthful of stew. He had utterly forgotten his headache and was completely focused on the man in front of him.

The bowl toppled over noisily as Altair plunged forward, pinning Malik to his pillow in a kiss. Letting the Dai catch his breath for a split second, he pressed into him and again and again, fingers lying across his wrist.

Malik kisses back fervently, his legs moving to wrap around Altair's waist to bring them even closer to one another. His mind held no thought other than how much he loved the man that was currently ravishing him so thoroughly.

Altair kissed him harder, before pulling away, golden eyes lidded. He rested his head to Malik's forehead and closed his eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

"If...I say no...Will you kiss me again?" Malik asks breathlessly, licking his lips slowly and savoring Altair's lingering taste on them. His hand moves to gently stroke Altair's cheek affectionately, his dark brown eyes impassioned and filled with both love and lust.

Altair smirked, pretending to pull back and watched as Malik's eyes grew wider. "I just might, Dai," He said, chuckling deeply and pressing towards his Dai again.

"Hmm...You may not be much of a cook, novice..." Malik starts as he presses soft kisses from his lips down to his neck. "But you are the best kisser in all of Jerusalem. I love you" Malik whispers against his neck, his fingers entangling themselves in Altair's hair.

Altair laughed softly against him. "Damn right I'm the best." He buried his nose in Malik's hair. "Love you, too."