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Young Basim meets a girl, Nashira, in the House of Wisdom. As the years go on and things change in their lives, fate tests if their romance is really meant to be.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Welcome back King Harrow, you’re gonna love this song:

No they did not ruin Ezran’s character this season. They’ve been building up to it for a while now.

Look, I am not a person who enjoys seeing an innocent character mentally snap when confronted with the horrors of the world, but in Ezran’s case it feels inevitable given what he’s gone through and where the story is going.

Remember in Season 4 when he gives this speech:

He then says that he chooses to move forward towards peace, instead of falling into a cycle of violence.

But that doesn’t mean he’s not still angry.

There’s a companion short story that goes a little deeper into Ezran’s feelings:

More here: https://thedragonprince.com/deepbelow/

This characterization of Ezran isn’t back peddling his arc, it’s an inevitable boiling over of all the hurt and pain he’s been dealing with. It doesn’t help that the only family he has left totally ditched him when he needed him in his time of need *cough* Callum *cough*

Luckily he had Aanya, who is probably the only person who understands what he’s going through.

When an injured Roshan is nursed back to health by an old acquaintance, she uncovers new secrets in the aftermath of Basim’s betrayal. Set 2 months after the event of AC Mirage.

Roshan stumbled her way in through a series of doors and hallways. She limped carefully, using the walls as a guide and support. She had no idea where she was exactly since it was so dark, but something in her guided her by muscle memory to this exact spot. Wherever she was, she knew it was familiar and safe…at least safer than where the guards were.

With one hand clasping her midsection and one hand guiding her on the wall, she used her gift to find a place to hide. Glowing a dim gold in the distance, a door came into view in the darkness, and she didn’t hesitate to reach for it.

Roshan shut it behind her, feeling some relief wash over her for a moment. She found herself sliding down the wall, feeling a deep ache in her muscles as the adrenaline left her. Glancing down at her midsection, she noticed it was still damp with blood. How much of it had she lost, she wasn’t sure, she only hoped it wasn’t enough to leave a trail behind.

She had little time to worry about that now. Her lids grew heavy with a need for sleep, and she tried to fight it. The exhaustion coupled with the amount of blood she lost was not a good sign. She tried every trick she had to keep herself awake as she applied more pressure to her wound.

Her heart rate jumped at the sound of footsteps in the distance, but she felt weighted down to the floor. What was the point of trying to move? She was injured and in no condition to fight.

Still, to no avail, the need for rest overtook Roshan in an instant. The moment the door of the room opened, she lost consciousness.

_________________________________________________________

Slowly, Roshan blinked her eyes open to find herself in an unfamiliar room. It was dimly lit, and her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. There were stacks of books surrounding the place, as if it were a storage area of sorts, rearranged to accommodate someone sleeping there. She figured as much as she was laying on a straw mat covered with numerous blankets and pillows. Whoever put her here wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.

There were bandages wrapped around her stomach and chest, and her weapons and armor were gone. Roshan tried sitting up, tensing when she felt a dull ache in her abdomen.

“She’s awake,” A deep voice said near her.

“Where am I?” She wondered to herself, feeling for the pain in her abdomen. Her fingers ghosted over the snug bandages wrapped around her body, wondering who put them there.

A pair of gentle hands guided her to lay back down, “Don’t strain yourself, Roshan,” said a woman’s voice.

Her eyes finally adjusted to the lighting, and she saw a bearded man and a rather young looking woman crouched by her side. They wore matching fine robes of rich browns, green and gold. Roshan could have spent more time gathering details from their appearance, but her eyes lingered on the woman, realizing she knew her.

Her hair, while covered, peaked out from under their confines. The stray curls framed her face, which was scattered with moles, the most prominent being the one on her eyebrow.

The woman in question sighed with relief, “Alhamdualah, you’re alright.” She clasped one of Roshan’s hands.

The old woman squinted, “Nashira?” Her voice was even more gravely than usual, “What am I doing here?”

Nashira furrowed her brows, “You don’t remember?” She shared a worried glance with the bearded man next to her, “I found you all bloodied when I arrived at the House of Wisdom for my morning class. I was on my way to the library when I noticed a trail of blood. My husband and I brought you to our home so you could heal in a safe place.”

Roshan listened intently. Of course her muscle memory led her to the House of Wisdom. Years ago she had once lived there herself, in a time when she was a rouge with nowhere else to go. Those days were a long, long, time ago.

She groaned, feeling her head pounding, “How long was I out?”

“Two days.” Nashira answered, “But you’re alright. The doctor says you’ll make a full recovery with some rest.”

The bearded man nodded, “Yes, you’ll be able to return to your home in no time.” He said. The man said the words not knowing how they came out, completely oblivious to how backhanded they sounded.

Roshan furrowed her brows. She had no home anymore, not since she left the Hidden One’s months ago. Staying in the inn’s under this condition would prove unwise without a way to defend herself. Judging by the lingering pain, it would be a long time before she’d be able to fight again.

Nashira sent her husband a look, cocking up one of her eyebrows at him. It almost amused Roshan how quickly the man’s face turned beet red once he caught on to his mistake.

He cleared his throat, “T-that came out wrong.” He nervously stroked his beard, “What I meant was you’re welcome to stay as long as you like! Please,” he clasped his hands together, “It’s no inconvenience at all.”

His genuine smile told Roshan he meant every word.

Out of the corner of Roshan’s eye, she saw a little white cat stalk it’s way over to Nashira’s side. The cat seemed to tilt its head in curiosity at the sight of the older woman. Roshan remembered the cat must have been Halah, the fluffy cat Nashira kept close to her while staying in the Abbasiyah Bureau.

Omar cleared his throat again, “I have a class to teach soon and need to prepare for it. Will you be alright tending to your friend on your own?”

Nashira nodded, “Of course. I’ll see you when you get home.”

Omar furrowed his brows, “You’re sure? I can always reschedule-”

“I’m fine. Really, I am.” She insisted. She looked as though she tried to force a smile, but it definitely wasn’t convincing, at least not to Roshan. It seemed to be enough for Omar.

He gave her a reluctant smile back, and gently squeezed Nashira’s hand, “I’ll be home soon. Roshan, please make yourself at home. Don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything.” He said before heading out the door.

The silence in the room was broken only by the echoes of Omar’s footsteps. They both waited until it was quiet to speak.

“How much does he know?” Roshan asked just above a whisper, as if she anticipated someone was listening.

“He thinks you are an old friend of my father’s.” Nashira explained, “He knows nothing about your ties to the Hidden Ones.”

Roshan relaxed after hearing that.

Nashira tilted her head, “What happened to you?” She asked, shifting closer to examine some of Roshan’s injuries. The bandages needed to be changed, but at least they didn’t look as bad as when she first arrived here.

“I got into it with some guards who thought I looked suspicious.” She grunted,” They ended up getting the better of me…this time.” She gestured to her midsection.

She glanced at her wrist, where her Hidden Blade once was. She hadn’t realized until now how much she relied on it in combat. If she had it on her, would she have been so easy to take down? She wondered this to herself. Years of training could never leave her body, at least not this quickly. Yet, losing the weapon she was most comfortable with for close combat meant she needed to adjust to yet another change in her life.

“You must have been through so much…” Nashira squinted her eyes in the dim lighting, “What about this injury here on your shoulder?” She pointed to the scar there. It didn’t require a bandage, but it looked much newer than the other scars along Roshan’s arms and shoulders.

Roshan grimaced, her mind flashing back to the events leading to her receiving that scar, “That one I got as a parting gift from our old friend.” She shot Nashira a look.

Nashira furrowed her brows, then her eyes widened when the realization set in, “Basim did that to you?”

Roshan simply nodded.

She took the time to really look at Nashira. She had bags under her brown eyes, looking as though she lacked quite a few nights sleep. Even her cheeks, which were normally round and plump, seemed hollow in comparison. She had clearly lost some weight since the last time Roshan saw her.

She knew not what to make of Nashira’s demeanor. No doubt it had been months since she saw Basim as well. Plus, if her initial hunch was correct, which they often were, she knew for a fact Nashira and Basim were not just friends like she claimed in their first meeting. Something was definitely going on between them.

Nashira swallowed hard, “H-he is not looking for you….is he?” Nashira asked, a slight sense of panic edging in her voice.

Roshan shook her head, “I doubt it.” She couldn’t help but linger on her shaken demeanor. Roshan had only spoken to Nashira a handful of times, namely during the few days Basim insisted she stay in the bureau for her protection. Even as Roshan drilled her with questions, one thing that stuck out to her was how Nashira didn’t back down and her voice never shook once. This voice, however, seemed so much smaller in comparison.

“You look troubled.” Roshan said.

“I’m fine,” She swallowed hard, clasping her hands together in her lap, “I’m just a bit tired, that’s all…”

Before Roshan could press further, her stomach rumbled so loud it caused Halah to jump.

Nashira picked up the cat and stood up, “You must be starving. I’ll bring you some food.” She pet Halah to calm her down from the sudden scare. Roshan noticed the action seemed to calm her down as well.

Without another word, she left, leaving Roshan with more questions than answers.

____________________________________________

For the next few days, Nashira kept a close eye on Roshan. Roshan returned the favor by observing her as she slowly regained strength.

Most days, Nashira would tend to Roshan unless a home doctor was around to monitor her healing progress. Whenever they were alone, Roshan tried many times to get Nashira to talk about Basim. Every single time, Nashira shut her down.

“Did he say anything to you? Anything about what happened in Alamut?” She asked while Nashira helped her change the bandages around her torso..

Nashira’s mouth pressed in a straight line, focusing completely on the task at hand. It seemed as though she was trying to force away a bad memory.

“What exactly happened between you two?” Roshan pressed on.

“Roshan, please-” she snapped, then let out a deep breath to calm herself, “Please. I need to focus.” She said as she continued wrapping Roshan’s torso with bandages.

Nashira’s behavior struck Roshan as odd. She seemed exhausted all the time. When they shared meals together, she couldn’t help but notice Nashira only picked at her food before giving the rest to Halah, who graciously finished it off. Sometimes, she’d be so deep in thought, it would take Roshan calling her name a number of times before she responded.

Eventually, Roshan healed enough to walk around the house for a bit. She hated staying idle and desperately needed to move her body. At her age, it was easy for her muscles to grow stiff if she didn’t take proper care of them.

Lucky for her, Omar and Nashira’s home was large and spacious. Near the center of the property was an enclosed courtyard garden with a lovely fountain in the center. Roshan often went out there to enjoy the peace and quiet a feel the sun on her skin; a welcome change to being cooped up inside.

One morning on her way to the courtyard, Roshan managed to walk past Nashira and Omar’s room. The muffled voices on the other side of the door were much too loud to be a casual conversation.

“Nashira please, you need to take better care of yourself.” She overheard Omar saying.

“I told you I’m fine,” Nashira insisted, “I’m just a little stressed with everything going on lately.”

“That is what I mean,” Omar explained, “You’re barely eating or sleeping these days. Nashira, you must think of your condition.”

“You don’t need to worry yourself with my condition.” Nashira’a voice grew tense as she spoke.

“Of course I do, I’m your husband.” He raised his voice, “You’ve hardly been to your observatory and you’ve canceled all your classes. You’re not like yourself anymore.” He paused, “I haven’t seen you like this since Khalid-”

“Just stop!!” She snapped, “I don’t want to talk right now.”

The bedroom door swung open. Roshan didn’t have time to hide or walk away before Nashira laid eyes on her.Had she not stopped in her tracks at the sight of Roshan, Nashira would have collided into her.

The two of them shared a tense, wordless stare with each other. Nashira’s eyes were big with trepidation as Roshan stared back at her, like a part of her she was trying so desperately to hide had been exposed.

Before Roshan could apologize for eavesdropping, Nashira’s face twisted with discomfort and she bolted down the hall without a word.

Confused, Roshan glanced at Omar, who had poked his head out of the bedroom door. He hardly paid any attention to Roshan, instead focusing on his wife who ducked into the washroom all the way at the end of the hall.

“You're not going to go after her?” Roshan asked.

Omar sighed, “It might be best I keep my distance for now.”

Roshan raised a brow, “Why do you say that?”

“It’s her morning sickness again.” He explained.

Roshan's eyes widened, “She’s pregnant?”

Omar tilted his head, “She didn’t tell you?”

Omar was clearly under the impression that she and Nashira were much closer than they really were. She hardly noticed the signs in Nashira: her tiredness, her mood swings, the way she picked at her food. Looking back on it now it all seemed so obvious.

Omar’s eyes grew sad, “My apologies, I don’t mean to bother you with all of this, it's just…I thought she’d be happier. It’s our first child after all,” a hint of a smile showed on his face as a feeling of pride hit him, “Instead she hasn’t been taking care of herself and she won’t talk to me. It’s just like the days after her father passed…” His chest ached as his mind flooded with memories of that time.

An uneasy feeling washed over Roshan, suddenly feeling like she was being thrust too far into a very delicate situation.

Roshan cast her eyes down the hallway, “Perhaps I can talk to her.”

“Would you? Please, If it’s something I’m doing wrong, o-or not doing right, I want to know. I just want her to be happy again.” Omar pleaded with her, “…I promised her father I’d make her happy.”

Roshan nodded, making her way down the hall.

She put her ear to the door of the washroom. It was clear by the retching sounds that Nashira was throwing up.

She knocked, “Nashira? It’s me.” She said, doubting that would bring the young woman any comfort.

“Go away!” Nashira shouted back. Roshan was the last person she wanted to see right now.

Roshan, of course, entered the washroom anyway.

Nashira sat on the tiled floor, her back pressed against the cool stone wall. The only sounds in the room were her labored breathing as she tried to steady herself.

Roshan closed the door behind her. She found a rag nearby and grabbed it, moving to sit next to Nashira. She handed the rag to her and she accepted it, using it to wipe the sweat from her brows as well as the corners of her mouth.

They sat in silence for some time as Nashira got her bearings again. The coolness of the stone wall soothed her in the moment, bringing her body temperature back to normal. Though she didn’t want to admit it, Roshan’s presence comforted her as well.

“I hear you’re pregnant.” Roshan said, matter-of-factly, “Your husband told me.”

Nashira swallowed hard, “…I am.” She left it at that, not continuing the conversation any further than that.

Roshan braced herself for the very sensitive question she needed to ask next. With a sigh, and in a much quieter tone, she looked Nashira in the eye and asked, “…Is it Basim’s?”

There was no answer said aloud, yet Roshan understood when Nashira’s face fell from shame.

Tears welled up in Nashira’s eyes. She wordlessly nodded, not wanting to admit it out loud for that would make everything feel too real.

Roshan had never been good with comforting people. She only ever had words of wisdom to share with those she felt needed them most. Right now, however, she was speechless.

All she could do was place a hand on Nashira’s back as she wept.

____________________________________________

“Who else knows?” Roshan asked after some time.

Nashira sniffled, having calmed down some, and in a quiet voice said “Just you…and Halah.”

Roshan rolled her eyes at the mention of the cat, “Have you told Basim?”

Nashira’s jaw tightened at the mention of his name, “I don’t want him anywhere near my baby.” Her hand migrated to her belly in a protective gesture.

Roshan hadn’t expected that response, “Tell me, what happened between you?” She asked with a slight hint of concern in her voice, “Any time I mention Basim it seems to upset you.”

Nashira took some time to gather her thoughts before speaking, “Basim came to see me sometime after he returned from Alamut. I already knew I was pregnant by then. I was already experiencing the symptoms before my husband came home…”

She leaned her head back against the stone wall, “I couldn’t tell you how relieved I was when he came back. I wanted so badly to tell him the news but…he was acting so strange. He sounded so unlike himself…”

Tears welled in her eyes again as the scene replayed in her mind. She pictured Basim’s cold demeanor, his loveless eyes, and heard sickening disregard in his voice all over again.

“He said it was over between us. Then he left me. Ever since that day I’ve felt so broken inside…I just can’t seem to pull myself together…” With a shaky hand she used her sleeve to dry her eyes.

Roshan’s eyebrows furrowed, “It is no wonder you are not doing well…You’ve been holding all of this in for months. That can’t be good for you ” She stated bluntly.

“What other choice do I have?” Nashira asked, “I can’t even tell my husband what’s wrong with me or he’ll have me tossed out on the streets, or worse.”

Roshan had only known Omar for a few weeks and he didn’t seem to be a man capable of being that cruel. Still, she knew better than anyone you could never be too careful with men, especially ones that held so much power over your livelihood.

Nashira put her head in her hands, “I’m so stupid.” She whimpered.

“You’re not stupid,” Roshan said firmly.

“What do you call having an affair and getting pregnant with a child that isn’t your husbands?” Nashira asked rhetorically, “My Baba would be so ashamed of me.”

“I call it being young and in love.” Roshan answered, “Love tends to cloud one’s judgments.You were not the first nor will you be the last.”

Roshan squeezed her shoulder, “And if your Baba is anything like you, I think he would be more understanding and compassionate than you give him credit for. Give yourself that same compassion.”

Nashira let Roshan’s words sink in, “Whether I am compassionate to myself or not does not rid me of this…emptiness I feel inside.”

Roshan sighed as well, “I know the feeling…”

She momentarily glanced at her right hand, the one missing her ring finger where her hidden blade used to sit. A barrage of feelings she kept buried began bubbling up inside her. A part of her felt broken.

Nashira noticed her staring at her hand, “You must be holding in quite a lot as well, Roshan. What with everything that happened.” Her eyes lingered on the shoulder where she knew Roshan’s scar was.

Roshan let out a deep sigh, “I left the Hidden Ones you know. The temple Basim sought was forbidden ground, and despite my protests, he entered it anyway.” She clutched her hand, “My own student betrayed my trust…”

Roshan shook her head, still in disbelief as she thought about it, “If that wasn’t bad enough, I found out Mentor Rayhan was the one who gave him permission to go inside, completely disregarding the oath we Hidden One’s took to never compromise the brotherhood. He played right into our enemies hands. That was my final straw.Years of my last spent upholding a creed not even our Mentor cared to uphold…”

Nashira furrowed her brows at Roshan’s words, “I’m sorry to hear that…”

Roshan cast a glance at Nashira, “I have no regrets,” she said with conviction, “Though I can’t help but wonder if I had handled things differently…would this still be the outcome? If I had tried harder to stop Basim from going beneath that temple, would he have listened?”

Nashira sighed, “That isn’t fair to you, Roshan,” she insited, “Basim’s nightmares tormented him day and night. He would’ve done anything to rid himself of them.” She explained, “His mind was already made up.” She took one of Roshan’s hands in her own, “You may not have handled it perfectly, but there was nothing that could have stopped Basim from seeking the answers he sought.”

“I did try…Perhaps one day I will make peace with that.” She squeezed the hand Nashira held, “Basim made his choice. You and I have a choice to make too.”

Nashira furrowed her brows, “What do you mean?”

“We can continue to dwell on the past, or keep moving forward to what the future holds,” She pointed to Nashira’s tummy, “You especially. If not for yourself, then for your child.”

Nashira placed a hand on her stomach, “I want to move forward, for both of us.”

Roshan nodded with approval, “Good.”

“But…it will take time to let go of the past,” Nashira sniffled, “And I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

The older woman sighed, leaning her head back against the wall, “It always takes time. With time, we will find our own peace.”

____________________________________________________________________________

A week later, Roshan stood at the entrance of Omar and Nashira’s home with all her belongings in hand. Her injuries were finally healed, and she was eager to be on the way.

Omar handed her a small bundle, “Some food for your journey, wherever it may take you.”

Roshan tucked the bundle away, “I’m looking forward to finding that out myself.” She said, “Thank you both for everything. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but hopefully then I’ll be able to return the favor.”

Omar smiled, “We’d really like for you to come back. Especially once the baby comes.” Omar slipped his hand into Nashira’s and shared a smile with him.

While Roshan noticed the slightest hint of guilt in Nashira’s eyes, it was good to see her and Omar seemed to be on better terms with each other. Perhaps, in time, she could learn to forgive herself and learn to be happy with him.

Nashira stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Roshan in a hug, “No matter where you go, you’ll always be welcome right here.”

Roshan initially was taken aback at the gesture, but quickly returned it.

“Thank you,” Nashira whispered in her ear.

Roshan smiled, “Thank you.”

They pulled away, and Roshan let out a sigh, “I’ll see you soon.”

With that, she was off. To where, she didn’t know and for once that was how she liked it. While so much in her life was uncertain, the only certainty was that she would continue to live on her own terms.

As she dashed across the rooftops of Bagdad with the sun high in the sky, one thing remained on her mind: no matter what, she and Nashira would keep moving forward.

One day at a time.

Surprise! Long story short I’ve had this written a while ago but I’m just getting around to posting.

I wrote this as an epilogue to Star Crossed but felt like it was a bit too gloomy since it takes place directly after the events of AC Mirage. While I wanted to explore how Nashira and Roshan were feeling during this time, I preferred to end the story on a more hopeful note officially. One where it’s been a few years and Nashira is in a better place mentally and living a happier life all things considered.

It’s a similar vibe to the Basim x OC fic I wrote and now I know how y’all felt reading it 😭 this is TORTURE

Maha, Nashira's best student, struggles with personal demons. Nashira offers her some wisdom from her own life experiences. Takes place ten years after the end of StarCrossed.

“Maha, I know you can solve this.” Nashira gently encouraged her student to solve the complicated math problem on the chalkboard. 

At the moment, it was just the two of them in the observatory, aside from Halah who slept in the corner. That seemed to be all Halah would do these days, seeing as she was now a very old, very sleepy cat. 

Nashira’s classes were over for today, and Maha was the only student who remained. She arrived late for class again, and if Nashira had to guess it was something to do with one of her younger siblings needing her for something. Of course, Nashira didn’t mind staying after a bit longer to go over the lesson she missed. 

Maha focused on the problem, yet despite her efforts the answer didn’t come to her. She ran a hand through her hair, huffing in frustration, “I can’t do it!” she threw her chalk to the ground.

Nashira bent down to pick up the broken pieces of chalk, “Yes you can, you’re great with polynomials! I wouldn't have given you this problem if I didn’t think you could do it.” 

“No,” Maha let out a heavy sigh, “I mean this,” She motioned around the observatory, “I can’t do this, Ustadah.” She sat down at the desk, placing her head in her hands with a frustrated huff. 

Instantly, Nashira pulled a chair where Maha sat, placing a hand on her student’s back. She gently ran her hand up and down her back in an attempt to comfort the girl. If she knew anything about Maha, she was definitely fighting back tears. She often cried out of frustration.

 “Ya azizati, what is really going on?” Nashira asked after some time. 

She let out a sigh, gathering her thoughts before continuing, “I don’t belong in a place like this. Everyday I’m surrounded by people from families who have occupied these spaces for generations. They go home to beautiful estates and I go home to a broken down shack in Anbar.” 

Maha sniffled, “It’s like there's a voice inside me saying I’m not good enough. It’s why people look down on my family and I when we walk through the streets. Even other students here turn their noses up at me, like I don’t belong near them.”

Nashira shook her head, “You do belong here, Maha, just as much as anyone else.“ She pressed, “There’s not much you can do about how people see you…and it is easier said than done to simply tell you to ignore them. But that voice inside you telling you all these terrible things is trauma, and if we don’t make peace with that it will continue to hold us back.”

Maha sniffled again, “But, what if it’s right? Everything in my life seems to go wrong, what makes this any different?” 

Nashira smiled sympathetically, “It will get better in time. It always does.”

“How would you know?” Maha raised her voice, but immediately regretted it once she saw her teacher’s shocked expression. She inwardly chastised herself for losing her temper again.

“I-I’m sorry Ustadah-“

“It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize ya azizati.” Nashira smiled to ease her students' mind, “it is a fair question.” 

Nashira took a deep breath, closing her eyes as the memories she buried deep within her came rushing back. Many were sweet, most of them were outright devastating. 

However, instead of feeling the urge to weep, she felt a sense of peace. She felt ready to pass on her wisdom to someone who needed it.

She let out a long exhale, “When I was young, I fell in love with a thief from Anbar,” she said.

Maha perked up, listening closely to her teacher. Rarely did she ever share stories from her personal life.

“When we met, he just so happened to be hiding from the guards in the library the same time I was fetching books for my father. The moment we locked eyes for the first time, it was as if the stars had aligned.”

Nashira let out a chuckle to herself as she thought of him, “I thought he was so charming, but he was also as mischievous as can be. I liked that about him too, I suppose. We spent much of our time together in this observatory, learning as much as we could about the world and each other.”

Then, her eyes grew sad as more memories flooded her mind, “I loved him…so much.”

Maha noticed the shift in her teacher’s demeanor, “What happened to him?”

A shaky breath escaped Nashira as she prepared for what she had to say next, “He was…deeply hurt inside. He suffered from horrible nightmares. I tried to help him, I wanted so badly to help him…but I couldn’t. Then one day something about him just shifted. He wasn’t the same anymore.”

Maha noticed the slight tremor in her teacher's hands as she spoke. Even more so, the strain in her voice was very apparent.

“He left and never came back,” Nashira sighed, “The whole ordeal left me feeling so…broken. I had my own voice inside telling me I wasn’t good enough, that I should have tried harder to help him, that I should've made different choices in life. I thought I’d never recover from that pain.” 

Maha furrowed her brow, “How did you?” She asked.

“You know, I don’t think I ever did.” Nashira answered, “I never got over it all at once. I just focused on taking things one step at a time until I finally felt like myself again.”

A smile slowly grew on Nashira’s face as she continued, “It helped to focus on what was important to me. I wanted to continue my father’s work. I wanted to teach girls like you math and astronomy. I wanted to live a happy life, and I chose not to let my past dictate who I was.”

Nashira stood up, walking towards the window she usually kept closed these days. She grabbed a hold of the handles of the window panes, running her thumbs over the familiar grain.

She opened it, the late afternoon sun filling up the observatory with its warmth and light.  Nashira motioned for Maha to come to her side. 

Below them was the courtyard. A middle-aged bearded man walked beside a young boy. He was about ten years-old with a curly mop of hair on his head and a face full of scattered moles. Out of all the people in the yard, Nashira could pick them without fail time and time again.

The little boy had a pouch full of dates which he seemed to stuff into mouth all at once while the man seemed to absentmindedly read from a stack of lecture notes as they walked. 

Nashira chuckled, “Hassan! Don’t spoil your dinner, ya azizi!” she called down to him.

Hassan looked around the courtyard, trying to find the source of the voice, before looking up where the window was. With a big toothy grin he waved his arm back and forth, “Umma!” He tugged on the man’s sleeve, “Baba look, it’s Umma!” 

The bearded man, Omar, looked up from his reading to see his wife’s smiling face besides her student's. He returned the gesture and cheerfully waved at her as well.

Nashira softly smiled, watching as the two of them continued on their walk, “Most important of all, I get to watch my son grow up. That is what I look forward to the most these days.”

Maha nodded, then took a pause to reflect, “Ustadah, what if I can not let go of my past?” She asked.

“You can’t let go, necessarily,” Nashira answered, “Your past is an important part of who you are. However, you can choose how you move forward with it so that it doesn’t hold you back.”

Maha tilted her head, not really understanding what she meant.

“You can't change or control what life throws your way, but you can choose to make peace with it. You can choose to learn from it. Then one day you’ll be able to look back on you past and see how far you’ve come, Maha.” She smiled, “And you have already come so far. That’s something you should be proud of.”

Maha nodded, “You’re right, I have. But, I still have so far to go…”

Nashira took one of the girl's hands in hers, “And you do not have to do it alone. I’m always here, Maha, whenever you need me.” She pulled the girl in for a warm hug, “You belong wherever you want to be, ya azizati.”

Maha smiled, “Thank you for sharing that with me, Ustadah.” said Maha. Nashira’s words did not fix the turmoil Maha felt inside, but the wisdom she received would help her deal with her feelings of inadequacy. That was enough to put her at ease for now.

They pulled apart and Nashira squeezed her hand, “Now, let’s get back to that math problem.”

__________________________________________________________________________

At some point, Hassan joined them in the observatory while Omar gave his astronomy lecture. Hassan, for the most part, played quietly in the corner with Halah while Maha and his mother continued their studies.

The boy’s eyes landed on his mother’s bag, where a bag of juicy candied dates peeked out of the pocket. With a cheeky grin, he carefully crept over to it, reaching for a date and narrowly putting it in his mouth-

“Put it back, Hassan.” Nashira said, not even looking up from the papers in front of her. 

Hassan’s shoulders slumped. He reluctantly did as he was told, “But I’m starving!”

“You are not starving,” She paused when her own stomach began to growl, “But It is getting late, and Baba should be finished with his lecture soon. Let’s go home and have dinner, hm? You can have those dates for dessert.” 

Hassan cheered much to his mother’s delight.

“But only if you finish your vegetables.”

He groaned.

Nashira and Maha gathered their things while Hassan went to retrieve Halah.

 “Will you join us?” Nashira asked Maha.

The young woman smiled and nodded. While she collected her things, she couldn’t help but watch the little boy closely. She couldn’t get over how much Hassan favored his mother from his curly hair, moles, and chubby cheeks. Not to mention his love of dates and his sleepy cat.

“He looks so much like you,” Maha mentioned as they made their way out of the observatory, “It’s almost like his father didn’t try at all!” She joked.

Nashira smiled to herself, “Oh trust me, he definitely takes after his father more than me.” She said as she let Hassan and Maha walk out the door.

Nashira watched as her student and her son walked down the hall. She paid special attention to how her son gently placed a kiss on Halah’s nose, then moved to feed her a date he had in his pocket. The sneaky boy still managed to swipe a date from her bag afterall.

She smiled, though inside she felt a wave of guilt come over her. She always felt it whenever she thought of Hassan’s father. 

Mainly, how Hassan would never know his real father.

She could see so much of Basim in Hassan, from his big brown eyes to his crooked grin and his penchant for mischief. She thanked her lucky stars that Hassan looked so much like her, no one questioned why he didn’t look like Omar.

She planned on telling Basim about her pregnancy when he returned from Alamut. She thought when he came back, she could tell him the news and they’d run away together and start a new life. They could see the world the way they talked about as kids, and they would have raised Hassan together. 

Of course, their meeting did not go as planned. To avoid being thrown out, Nashira chose to act as though the baby was Omar’s. It was a better option than struggling to raise a baby on her own, even if the guilt ate her up inside.

She decided the guilt would have to be her punishment for her poor choices. After all, her decision would ensure her son grew up happy and without worry. Hassan would have more choices in life than she or Basim ever did. So, she accepted it.

As Nashira turned to close the door of the observatory, her gaze landed on the open window she forgot to close.

She sighed, letting all her feelings flow out of her. Her past with Basim happened, and while it still saddened her from time to time, she felt grateful that it did not destroy her. 

She was free to look to the future of her life, and all the wonderful, beautiful moments she’d have with her son in it. That alone was enough to push forward and leave Basim in the past where he belonged. 

With that, she didn’t hesitate to close the window.

“Umma come oonnnnn!” Hassan called from down the hall. 

You cling to your papers and pens

Wait until you like me again

Wait for your love

I randomly remembered your Star-Crossed fanfic last night, was feeling rather angsty so I read it again and now I suffer emotionally..... I miss Nashira and Halah waaaaaaaaa

Hi!!! 🥹💖

I’m doing well! I’ve just been super busy irl as of late. On top of work getting hectic, I had a wedding to go to, my birthday passed (I’m 26 now! 🥳), birthday parties every other weekend, and overall haven’t had much time to sit down and write anything 😭

It feels silly to complain about being super social, but I’m a bit of an introvert so it tires me out. By time I get home I just wanna go to bed 😅

I still plan on posting an epilogue soon, plus some of those other drabble ideas I talked about. I’m just a little stuck on how to tackle the epilogue. I’m caught between showing Nashira a few months after the end of Star Crossed and showing her like, 10 years after (roughly around Valhalla time?). I’m leaning more towards the latter cause she’d be in a better place mentally and it makes me sad writing her when she’s deeply depressed 😭

All in all, new fics will come soon, I just need to find the time (and energy) to do it! I’m so grateful you and other people on here love the story and Nashira (And Halah lol) and I wanna keep y’all fed lol

These are only the assassins from games I played so far!

Ezio

Connor:

Edward:

Shay:

Arno:

Bayek:

Basim:

I guess these technically aren't headcannons since I wrote this character, but you get what I mean. These are little details about Nashira that didn't make it into the final story. Plus, I hope it's something that'll hold y'all over till I finish some of those other drabbles. Enjoy!

Nashira is an Arabic name meaning “the lucky one” or “bearer of good news”. It’s also the Arabic name of a star in the Capricorn constellation. I like to think Khalid named her after a favorite constellation of his <3

Halah is an Arabic name for “the aura of light around the moon” 

I feel like Nashira would be the type to need glasses, but according to my research glasses weren’t invented yet in the 9th century. So Instead she uses a magnifying glass for words written in small print.

Nashira didn’t have many children to play with when she was younger so she mostly spent her days reading and playing with stray cats

I imagine she’d have a hard time relating to kids her own age. If other kids were talking about toys and games, Nashira wouldn’t really know what they were talking about. The same could be said when she’d talk about star charts and math equations.

She has a MASSIVE sweet tooth. Her favorite foods are candied fruits, namely dates. While her father spoils her with them (cause he likes them too tbh) he gets on to her about eating only snacks and not proper meals.

She’s 100% a grazer lol Who needs proper meals when you have studying to do, amirite? (AN: seriously though, you should try to eat proper meals especially if you’re studying. And drink lots of water!!!)

Nashira is notoriously messy and unorganized, as opposed to her father who is very neat and tidy. He gets on to her about not keeping her desk tidy only to clean it up for her anyway.

She’s one of those “I have a system and it works for me.” kind of people

I imagine her and Basim are the exact same age, whatever that is in the game lol. I know he’s 17 in the beginning of the game, so I imagine they’d meet at age 15 or 16

As for when Basim returns to Baghdad it’s not super clear how much time passes but I kind of just peg Basim and Nashira to be about 20-21 during the events of the game

One thing she liked about Basim is that he’s just as interested in learning more about the world around them as she is. She likes how he adds his own unique perspective on topics she’s only really discussed with people of a similar background to her.

Plus he’s kind of a “bad boy” and she thinks thats cool lol (teenagers amirite?)

Her most defining physical trait would be the many moles on her face, the biggest one being just above her left eyebrow. She’s always raising that eyebrow when she makes faces and I think that’s something Basim would adore haha

She raises a brow at him alot cause he’s always doing something cheeky

She doesn’t throw tantrums when she doesn’t get her way, but she will do a lot of huffing and puffing (as a kid she’d even stomp her foot if she’s really worked up).