Maria sensed the wrongness from the first moment she entered the room; the corridor echoed with the sounds of celebration and revelry yet here all was silent.

She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as she began to strip off her greaves; better not to disarm, not if there was a potential threat in the area. An assassin perhaps? Surely not here, there were sentries posted at every outlook and she knew them personally. There were any number of soldiers who envied her position; might they be planning some revenge? If so, they were in for a nasty surprise; her reputation was not unwarranted.

She froze when she heard the sound of shifting cloth, the muffled click of a boot; planting her feet in a combative stance she turned in a tight circle, inspecting the darkened corners and glancing about for anything out of place.

The room was eerily still. As she began to relax, something dropped from above her; she caught the flutter of a cloak out of the corner of her eye and turned to confront her attacker only to be shoved brutally off balance so that she caught herself against the wall. Why had she left her sword hanging above the bed? That amateur mistake might well cost her life tonight.

Maria lashed out when she felt his fingers twine through her hair to ruthlessly bare her throat to his blade and heard a gasp as he flinched when her elbow connected. She smirked, Maria de Thorpe would die fighting when all was said and done.

Her smile vanished when she felt the cool edge of a steel blade against her skin; Damascus steel, as dark as sin and every bit as wicked. She tried to stomp on his foot, but he twisted nimbly and glided the blade gently along her pale skin so that she could feel the warmth of a trickle of blood; a warning she knew better than to ignore.

"What do you want, assassin? Whatever it is, you would do better to seek it elsewhere. I am in no mood for sport."

Maria shivered as he pressed his mouth near her ear and breathed "I think not. I think you have exactly what I need."

She tried to twist away from him, as quickly as she could without injuring herself on the blade, but he pressed her firmly to the cool stone wall, pinning her in place with his implacable weight. She could feel him pressed along the length of her, his hips pinning her to the wall as his chest pressed against her shoulders, the knife drawing a little away from her vulnerable flesh.

"This doesn't have to end badly, Templar. Give me what I am looking for and I will disappear; you can pretend I was never here."

"We both know you're lying, assassin, and as I said, you would have done better to choose easier prey."

Maria hooked a leg behind his knee and pulled it forward quickly; as he fell against her, she twisted to face him, grasping his wrist to keep the concealed blade from her. Before he could react, she cocked her knee and brought it up swiftly between his legs; with a strangled gasp, he shifted to block it, gazing at her with murderous intent.

"Clever." He cocked his head, "But not quite enough, Templar."

"My name is Maria, though I doubt you'll have much occasion to use it." Her attacker was in motion before she had even finished the sentence, feigning a blow with his right hand, when she stepped aside to avoid it, he shoved her off balance with his other hand and she connected to the door with a solid thump.

Twice in one bloody fight he had tripped her! Maria's eyes narrowed; he would pay for each blow to her pride before the night was through. Her eyes widened again as she felt him insinuate his thigh between her legs, brushing against her center so that she started; his knowing chuckle warned her that he had caught her reaction.

"Maria Thorpe," Maria sucked in a shocked breath at the way his voice caressed her name. "I am Altair Ibn La'ahad," he leaned forward, "And I swear you will have occasion to use it."

"I've nothing to say to you, assassin", she sneered. "Kill me and be done with it."

"That would defeat my purpose entirely, my lady."

Altair leaned forward, still pinning her to the door with his forearms braced firmly on her shoulders and his thigh pushing more firmly against her; she gasped as he traced his tongue along the small cut left by his blade and paused to suck at the tender flesh. She winced at the sting, leaning her head back nevertheless to allow him access.

He held her there for a long moment, drawing in her scent as his teeth moved followed the arch of her neck to clamp down roughly on her pulse. "Your heart is beating so fast, are you frightened, Maria?"

Maria arched against him roughly, "Why don't you just slink back to whichever corner of hell you managed to crawl out of, assassin?"

"Is that a no? I've given you my name; use it when you address me."

"I don't care to, assassin."

He chuckled darkly, "I could make you care."

Maria snorted and he shifted the leg she had almost forgotten was wedged between her own. Gradually his hands slid down to her hips, taking her in a bruising grip as he shifted her position on his thigh, moving his leg up still higher so that she had to rise slightly on the balls of her feet. When she pulled back from him, he pulled her forward again so that the seam of her trousers pushed firmly against her center, she arched into him with a gasp, her legs giving slightly before she caught herself, bringing her into even more intimate contact with his leg.

She used his thigh for leverage as she once again balanced on the balls of her feet, her eyelids fluttering slightly at the warm friction in such a sensitive place.

"Open your eyes; look at me."

Maria forced them open to glare at him. "Let me be clear; this doesn't change anything, assassin."

She pushed against his chest, but he leaned further into her, catching her lips in a bruising kiss. Maria clamped her mouth shut, determined to resist, but he swept his tongue so temptingly along the curve of her lips that she opened, drawing it into her mouth to duel with him.

Altair drew back, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth to bite firmly before soothing it gently. Maria growled, nipping along the edge of his lips so that he gasped; she took the opportunity to draw him back into an open-mouthed kiss as she continued to ride his thigh.

He released her hips to catch her hands, placing them at either side of her head, "Do not move."

She nodded her acquiescence, curling her hands into fists as the sensations intensified. With a movement swifter than her eye could track he had released his hidden blade and cut neatly down the length of her shirt, perilously close to her flesh but never quite touching.

She glared, "It is going to be difficult to explain to my superiors exactly how that came about."

Altair shook his head mockingly, "If you are still thinking of consequences then I mustn't be trying hard enough."

"I-" she lost her train of thought when his calloused hands cupped her gently, brushing over nipple soothingly before clamping down harshly; pinching and rolling her tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger. She began to move faster, groaning in frustration as he lowered his leg. If he would no longer supply the stimulation she needed then she would just take matters into her own hands.

She brought her hands down from the wall, tracing them down her rib cage and over the arch of her hips as she felt her muscles jump at the teasing caress but before she could reach her destination he caught her hands in his own.

"I told you not to move these."

"I don't take orders from assassins."

Altair grasped her wrists in one hand, dragging them back above her head as his other hand dipped to the fastenings of her trousers, undoing them deftly before ghosting his fingers over her exposed flesh.

Maria hissed and bucked, trying to draw him closer to her need but he would have none of it, tracing his hand up her abdomen slowly to circle her belly button. She shivered and tensed as he once again cupped a breast and raised it to his mouth, swirling his tongue before drawing it in for a none-too gentle nip.

Maria rocked her hips against him; she was far past the point of any pretense, it didn't matter that he was an enemy as long as he didn't stop.

He drew away from her to catch her eyes once again. "What is my name?"

"Forgot it, did you?"

Altair laughed softly, tugging her firmly across the room to the bed tucked neatly in the corner; she briefly considered resistance but dismissed the idea almost immediately, for this she would swallow her pride. When her turn came, she would teach the assassin to beg- all in good time.

She felt the back of her knees connect with the edge of the bed and allowed herself to fall, catching his belt as she did so, fumbling with the fastening in her haste. She heard the hiss of the blade as he drew it from its sheathe, tracing patterns in her skin with the edge. Maria tensed, but the smirk on his face held only lascivious intent and she continued her work to push aside his cloak, reaching for the warmth of his skin, tracing her nails along the lines of his muscles.

He cut the remainder of her shirt from her and Maria scowled, "There is no need to destroy my things."

"I'm sure you have another."

Before she could protest he straddled her, his mouth tracing from the hollow of her throat down to her stomach as his hands caressed her hip bones, and explored the indentations in her back, moving down to catch her behind her knees so that he could draw her legs up.

Maria squirmed fitfully as he leaned back once more to gaze at her.

"You are so-" she cut him off as she reached up to finish pulling those blasted trousers from him; he assisted, quickly divesting himself of the rest of his weapons and attire so that he was as bare as she.

Much better; they were on equal footing once again.

Maria propped herself on her elbows, trying to lure him into another kiss and but he pulled away and traced his lips over her exposed wrist, feathering over the pulse he found there. Maria leaned back and caught his hips with her hands, tracing her hands down to grasp him firmly, taking delight in his increasingly shallow breaths.

He arched into her hand unthinkingly before jerking roughly back, just barely managing a cocky smirk, "But you don't even know my name."

"Basta-" her breath left her in a rush as he cupped her intimately, tracing his thumb along her slit to circle temptingly about her clit but never quite touching, only taunting. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he dipped a clever finger inside her, curling it and her thoughts scattered once again.

She rocked against his fingers shamelessly as he thrust languidly into her; her attempts to quicken the pace were in vain and her frustration grew.

He pinched her clit and she thought she might come, but then the teasing pressure was gone. She gnashed her teeth at him but he only smiled wider.

"You know what I want."

Maria's vision blurred as his gentle teasing continued, her fingers twisted into the coverlet as she writhed but his pace remained consistently calm until he stopped altogether.

She just caught her whimper before it escaped, changed it to a hiss instead. Altair dipped, running his hands to her knees and yanking until she bent her knees, spreading them wider.

She was by no means a virgin, but when he looked at her with such clear hunger in his gaze she grew a little light-headed, even as she felt the blush rising up her neck and spreading across her entire body.

There wasn't much time for such thoughts though, in the next moment he had pushed his tongue inside her and oh the wicked things he was doing to her were surely a sin but she couldn't find it in her to care.

Without warning he pulled her clit between his lips and she cried out as her fingers twisted in his hair. She was so close, but he was withdrawing again, and in desperation she finally called his name.

"Altair, please."

He met her eyes and she cursed that smug smile that flitted across his lips, "Precisely."

He crawled up her body so slowly, running his fingers through her hair as he held her face between his hands. "That is exactly what I was looking for, Templar." He caught her lips in a kiss before she found the breath to protest.

!

!

!

Maria lay tangled and sated; basking in the companionable silence for just a moment longer, but there was work to be done after all. She pushed at Altair, who continued to make a show of sleeping.

"Get up, if we don't get back to the feast soon they are going to send someone looking for us and as much as I enjoy watching you talk your way out of trouble I've no desire to see this."

Altair snorted and pulled her closer, "Just a few minutes longer."

"Very well, then we can discuss other matters. Such as why you felt the need to rip my shirt, or where you've tossed my bloody boots or how about where you've put my favorite knife?"

"You're going to complain? You just about unmanned me, wench!"

"But you were not playing fair; you came too soon and I wasn't ready."

"I didn't think you had any complaints about that at least," he purred.

Maria smacked his arm playfully, "Lout; you know what I meant. I wasn't even armed; I thought we agreed that you would let me bring my sword."

"Beloved, I assure you that you are every bit as dangerous even without your toys. Besides, it's only play and I wouldn't like you to forget that and skewer me on a whim."

Maria hummed contentedly, "We can put this aside for later; now, we really should head back down. There's no telling what a hall full of rowdy assassins might do in your absence."

"They're adults, they don't need a nursemaid. Likely they're all drunk by now anyway. I'm sure Malik will keep an eye on everyone in my absence."

Maria rolled her eyes, "He was drunk before we even managed to sneak out."

Altair rolled to pin her beneath him once again, "Leave them. We have better things to do with our time."

Maria allowed him to distract her for the moment; revenge was a dish best served cold after all.