AN: Hello dear reader! You are about to read the first chapter of my very first fan fiction! :D I really hope you will find it enjoyable!
Please, feel free to let me know what you think of it -both the good and the bad stuff.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, scenes, dialogues and whatever from Assassin's creed. Everything familiar from the game obviously belongs to Ubisoft :)

Chapter 1.

27th November, 1772

I slowly crept out of bed, careful not to make a sound as I made my way to the window.

I watched as a group of wealthy men, two of them in the company of what looked like prostitutes, passed by on the street beneath me. This was not an uncommon sight in Mayfair- or anywhere in London, really. You'd just find the men around here carrying heavier purses.

I opened the window and frowned as the cold air surrounded me; bracing myself, I climbed through to hoist myself up to the roof. A shiver went through me as I placed my bare feet on the even colder surface of the roof tiles. I quickly moved to the other side of the house and dropped down to the french balcony facing the garden behind my home. As I knelt in front of the door leading from the balcony into my father's library, I pulled out two hairpins, causing most of my hair to cascade over my shoulders. The art of picking locks with hairpins was not a very common interest among highborn young ladies like myself, though I considered it one of my most valuable skills.

Now, you might wonder why in the world I would make this effort to break into my father's library. Well, first of all I was strictly forbidden to enter it. That applied to my brothers as well, though they were sometimes given books about science or mathematics for educational purposes. Education I was denied for the simple reason I was born female.

Father thought it unnecessary for me since I would not put the knowledge to use and besides, "I might get ideas." Well, they say knowledge is power, and no one wants a woman to overpower a man.

Don't mistake me, my father had made sure I was taught the appropriate qualifications for a woman. This included teaching me how to read and write, business management, basic mathematics, geography, French, embroidery etc. I wanted more. I wanted to learn about science, physics, philosophy; I was hungry to know everything this world could teach me.

Therefore, over the last three years I had made it my routine to sneak down to the library a couple of times a week, careful not to leave any traces besides a missing book or two. So far I had not been caught once. Father had no clue, and better it stay that way. See, I had found books in there that taught me about something I hadn't quite expected. Something I certainly was not supposed to know about. I had learned about the Templars and the Assassins.

Besides these books, I had found letters to Father. Turns out he wasn't just a successful businessman, as he had told me and my brothers, but also a high ranking member of the Templar Order. I figured this had to be the reason none of us were allowed inside, and also why Father had taken measures to secure the room. If you were to try and enter the library from inside the house, you'd be stopped by a large wooden door with a massive lock that certainly could not be picked with hairpins.

Luckily, I was blessed with a creative mind that found a way around the obstacle.

The balcony door swung open and I hurried to get into the warmth inside the library. The room was dark, except where the moonlight had made its way through the dusty windows. I walked over to one of the shelves in order to return the book I had finished that same morning to its former place. I continued my walk between the shelves, searching for something that would catch my interest.

As I passed Father's desk, I noticed a letter lying on top of it. Curiosity got the better of me, as it often did, causing me to linger over the desk to read the letter. Unsurprisingly, it was encoded. Even more eager to know its content then before, I searched the drawers. It did not take long before I found what I was looking for. A smile appeared on my lips as I pulled out the decoding cipher. I placed it over the letter, the seemingly random holes cut into it revealing the hidden message within.

"The American colonists are on the verge of revolution against the crown.

When the revolution is in place, great opportunities will be opened.

Therefore, it is decided that the Order will support the rebels and not the crown.

Grandmaster H.E.K"

"So there will be a revolution after all," I thought to myself. My mind was already racing, thinking about what this would mean, and what the consequences might be as I replaced the cipher in the drawer where I had found it.

"Grandmaster H.E.K," I mumbled as I threw one last look at the letter. Father had gotten messages from this "H.E.K" before, and I had learnt early on that these contained the most important information of all the letters he received from across the ocean.

Soon, I was on my way out to the balcony, carrying a new book under my arm. I quickly made my way back to my bedroom, my eyes getting heavier with each step. Longing to get back into the warmth of my bed, I hid the book under the loose floorboard next to my own desk.

I yawned as I finally crawled back between the soft sheets. Knowing myself, though, I would not be able to fall asleep until I got the thoughts of this revolution out of my mind. The colonists certainly had reason to incite this rebellion. Forced, as they were, to pay the constantly rising taxes to the crown. However, I was not sure if this revolution was a good idea...

"Anna darling, wake up." The voice of Margaret, our nanny, pulled me out of my sleep. Margaret was a chubby woman in her 60's, who had worked and lived here since I was born. She was a very sweet woman, always doing her best to keep me and my brothers happy, though she could be very strict when needed.

"Good morning," I mumbled with a sleepy voice as I sat up.

"You need to get ready, dear. You don't want to miss breakfast, do you?" she said with a warm smile. Margaret rose from my bed, which she had been sitting on, and walked out of my bedroom, leaving me alone to get dressed.

I walked over to my closet, feeling more dead than alive. As I passed the large mirror hanging on the wall, I found I looked exactly the way I felt. I had bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep and my hair... God help me.

Grabbing my brush, I began the process of transforming the mess on top of my head into its usual immaculate state.

My mother would often say I had the beauty of an angel. I had a hard time believing that at the moment; though I suppose, on a good day, you could call me pretty.

My eyes were grey with a hint of blue, and when I didn't have bags underneath them from staying awake half the night, I'd say they did look somewhat pleasing. My hair was golden brown and fell straight down my back a couple of inches past my shoulders. Every morning I would put it up in a tasteful bun the way Margaret had taught me.

I put the last hairpin in place to secure my hairstyle as I lingered in front of the mirror to study myself. My eyes travelled from my face down to my body. I already had the curves of a woman, which made me look older than my 14 years.

After I had gotten dressed, I went down the stairs to join my family in the dining room. As I was about to enter, I came to an abrupt stop caused by a slice of bread flying towards me from across the room, missing my face by only a few inches. There was practically a small war being fought over the dinner table.

"Julian! What in the world do you think you're..." while I was trying to give Julian, the bread thrower, a strict warning, I suddenly got interrupted by the sight of Oscar pouring jam all over Thomas' jacket.

"Alright you little brats, what on earth do you all think you're doing?! Stop it immediately!" The tone in my voice caused the boys to freeze. Luckily, I had a fair amount of respect amongst the little devils; though being the oldest child, the big sister of five younger brothers, wasn't easy by any means.

Well, I was oldest if you didn't count my half-brother Adrian, who is my elder by seven years. Though I had, or used to have, a good relationship with him, he had never really been a part of the family. My mother had made sure of that. I suppose it didn't really matter anymore since he was in Boston now, making a new life for himself.

He had sent me a couple of letters just after his arrival in America, telling me not to worry or to miss him, but I had not heard from him for almost two years now. I did worry, and I did miss him. I had expected Father to do so as well, but he showed no sign of it. In fact, every time I mentioned Adrian, he would get a cold look on his face.

I was quite certain there were more reasons for my half-brother's move to the Colonies than I had been told.

My thoughts turned from Adrian, back to the chaos of the dining room. Most of the breakfast had been spread all over the floor, and upon my brothers as well.

Five pairs of eyes looked at me, all of them with that terrified look children get knowing they were in trouble. As no one offered to give me an explanation, I turned to Eric, the oldest after me, and gave him a sharp look.

"Eric, would you kindly tell me what all of this is?" I spoke calmly. Eric was a mere two years younger than I was, which in my opinion made him far too old for this kind of childish behaviour.

"Julian and Sam began to argue, and then Sam threw a sausage at Julian. He missed and it hit Thomas who threw it back. Anna, I tried to stop them, I swear but..."

"Oh, I'm sure you did!" I snapped, cutting him off.

I turned my head as I heard footsteps behind me, to see Father walking down the stairs followed by Mother and Margaret. As they all entered the dining room, the two women immediately began lecturing the boys. I could hear Father sigh.

"What do you say to a game of checkers while we wait for this mess to get cleaned up, love?" he asked me in a low voice.

"I have nothing to say against it." I said with a smile.

I actually won that round, which was very rare. I laughed at the look on Father's face once he realized my next move would cause him to lose. I leaned back in the chair with a cocky grin.

"Didn't expect that, did you?"

"I certainly did not." He smiled at me. "You are a very bright young lady, Anna. I am proud of you," he continued. His smile faded away when it was replaced with a more thoughtful look. He gazed upon me as if he was considering something.

"What?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing, love, nothing," he said while shaking his head. I let the subject drop, though I had a good idea of what he had been thinking of.

Perhaps Father had considered telling me about the Order, or even to let me join it. Maybe not now, but when I got older? I could not know this for sure, however, and I honestly didn't know how to feel about it.

My opinion of the Templars was mixed... both good and bad. Their goals made perfect sense to me, and I could not agree more with their ideology; that a society should be built upon order and discipline. This is what the Templars wanted. It was this they fought for.

What bothered me was their ways of reaching their goals. From the hours I'd spent reading Fathers' books about the history of the Order, I had learned they were capable of the most... horrible, unconscionable things to get what they wanted.

A wave of uneasiness, anger and... well, fear, filled me every time I would think of my father performing any of those acts. I used to think of him as a good and kind man. You might think it strange I could still trust and love my father, knowing what I knew about him. He cared for and loved me and my brothers. Father was kind to us and he always had been. I suppose that was enough for me. At least, it was at the time...