ASSASSIN'S CREED

THE HUNTSMAN AND THE INDEPENDANT

A quick heads up:

This story's characters have been selected by me from the multiplayer's section, so there are no characters from the main story. However their names may be mentioned once or twice.

Please forgive me for any typos or incorrect grammar throughout the chapter. I try my best to correct them, but some may slip through.

Also, you may not like the couples in these stories, but these are the pairing that I personally love. They are my opinion so if you don't like it, tough.

Enjoy

It had been nearly a month since I had been given my most recent target, and as far I was aware, time was running out. I needed to find and kill Von Stantten; a German troop with a devilish appetite for war and death, before he finds and kills an important military commanding officer. Stantten needed to be eliminated, yet here I was lying uncomfortably in a stack of hay. I awkwardly shifted into a more comfortable position, which was pointless because if anything it made me feel as if I were lying in a bush of rose thorns and stinging nettles even more so.

Endure it.

I told scolded myself in my head.

This does not compare to those of the unfortunate. They are treated far worse than I.

I see the person I am looking for and I feel my body automatically go ridged and tense. I recognised exactly who my target was in an instant, but my eyes immediately fall to the woman he held within his tight clutches. His face held a devilish smirk whilst the woman's expression was a vast mix between anger, panic and fear. The woman's hair was a vibrant autumn red , and because of her deep-sea green eye colour in contrast to the red, it made them both look as if the colours were competing with one another. Through the bright red splotches of what I assume to be blood on her dress, and the tears of the expensive fabric, you could see that she was wealthy and was probably high in rank in society. However, from the way she was being treated by the German troop, it looked as if she was no better that the dirt under your shoe.

I suddenly recognised her. She was my pursuer for a while before I discovered her shortly after she had entered within the city. I was about to take her life, but she somewhat persuaded me into forming an alliance with her. I reluctantly complied and our partnership blossomed. We flew through the ranks of an assassin and in turn, the Templars' numbers were visibly dying out. But despite our great success, we parted ways and began to become independent again, for reasons I cannot fathom.

I watched as red head managed to break free by ripping her arm from his bruising grasp. The second she did, she launched her hand straight for his face, satisfying herself with the loud slap sound that followed – despite the stinging. With him momentarily dazed, she abruptly raced down the street. Unfortunately, her freedom had been short lived before she managed to take the second step; his arm swiftly snaked around her waist, causing her to thrash her arms about like a spoilt child as he forcefully brought her towards his chest. Whilst doing so, he whipped her round to face him as his hands then rested harshly on her forearms. She pounded viciously on his torso. Terror and dread were drawn all over her face. His expression, however, was a clear display of rage, but you could still see the slight devilish smirk that tug at the corner of his thin lips.

His hands seized her waist once again as he bent down to toss her over his shoulder. It was like she weighed nothing because he did it with such ease; as if she was some worn out rag-doll. But still, she continued to squirm as he wrapped his arm around her to keep her in place. He began walking again. Because of the empty street, no one was there to help her.

Apart from me that was.

I watched patiently as I figured out my tactics and timings. But before I could leap out of the uncomfortable stack of hay, kill my target and save my ex-partner, I saw someone running up to the two from the corner of my eye. I ceased all movements and waited for what was going to happen next.

The mysterious character was wearing the gloomy colours of black and grey, along with some shady tones of green and orange. His facial features were hidden from me because of his cowboy-like hat that shielded his eyes and a dirty old scarf that concealed the rest of his face. From my location, he looked scrawny and thin compared to Stantten (and most other men I had met to tell you the truth), but I assume that he was more suited to work with stealth than head-on contact.

As the anonymous newcomer approaches the two, the woman stops wriggling and stares in shock at the man approaching her, a new glimmer of hope sparkles in her eyes, if it weren't from the red, watery eyes and the tear stained cheeks, she nearly looked happy. I presume that she has developed some sort of small affection for this man.

The newcomer kicks the German troop behind the knee with such force that he is sent in the air before he comes plummeting to the ground on his back. But the newcomer grabs the woman's hands and pulls her off the man's shoulder. The newcomer falls to his back with the woman safely wrapped in his arms to prevent her from harm as they plunge to the floor.

I panicked as the German troop began to rise to his feet and the other two did not. So without thinking I dashed from the uncomfortable stack of hay and headed for Stantten. To my luck, he hadn't yet made a full recovery from the damage that had been previously done, and I managed to thrust my tomahawk deep within his ruined heart and did not pull it out until I saw the life leave his urban coloured eyes.

Moments later, I slowly withdrew my tomahawk from his chest and let his lifeless body collapse to the bloodied floor, revealing the red head and the newcomer who both stared at me in utter shock behind him. The woman looked up to me from the ground and stared at me in surprise before childishly grinning at me.

She obviously remembers me then

After a couple of seconds of staring, she sharply turned her head towards the newcomer. She looked at him with her eyes wide open, a slightly panicked and troubled expression that decorated her face. Gradually, her expression turned sour. She noticed he was looking at me in thanks and took his distraction to her advantage. Out of the blue, she stood and sprinted down the street. Noticing the sudden movement behind him, the newcomer turned around to realize that she was already halfway down the alleyway. He cursed under his scarf before chasing after her at lightning speed.

Must have had an argument of something

I shrugged. Before I knew it I was by myself again.

With my mission complete, I made my way back home.

-X-

After arriving home, I didn't realize how tired I was until I face planted face first onto my bed. I was asleep instantly.

I am running. I am out of breath.

I am chasing someone? No. I am being chased.

Not knowing who was chasing me, I ran from him anyway. Turning sharply at corners, jumping for the nearest roof and shoving through a massive crown had no effect of my pursuer at all. I was starting to tire and my feet were starting to ache, but his persistence for my life never wavered. I must have done something pretty awful.

Although it has probably only been 30 seconds, I felt as if I had been running my whole life. I started to slow, silently praying that my pursuer had given up on me. I turn around to check of his whereabouts, but only to discover him a couple feet in the air with his blade unsheathed. He landed on top of me and I hit the ground; hard. There is ringing in my ears from the impact and my vision is indistinct. I hear the blade he held whistling through the air before it -

I wake to a start. Trembling as I brought a shaky hand to cover my head in exhaustion.

What was that about?

I realised that I was still in my assassin robes, and after a few seconds of recollecting myself, I went to change. I did not know the time, but I presumed it was early morning because of the lack of sunshine outside.

I took off my robes and un-platted my hair. I then sheepishly stared at myself in the mirror. My long dark hair fell past by perky breasts when redeemed from their usual plat-style. My tanned skin was darker than that of a white woman's, but lighter than the people from my village. With my mother black and my father white; I felt out of place often. My body was nicely toned from the work that I do, but it had a few miniature scars splattered here and there from unexpected... confrontations. I turned around and sighed in memory as I looked at one scar in particular. It was marginally bigger than the rest, but the story behind it is a much bigger part of me than the scar takes to claim.

It was sprawled across my right shoulder blade. It started under my shoulder and ended pointing diagonally towards the centre of my back. No one could see it when I put my clothes on. I was lucky enough for it not to be big in size, but it was also placed where I could hide it easily; along with the story that comes with it.

Every time I look at it, it brings back the feeling of him touching me and –

I shivered. I don't want to remember that now. Not ever.

I took one last look before putting on a nightgown and jumping back into my welcoming bed. I slipped the covers over me, smiling as I thought how fortunate I am now; ever since the brotherhood took me in.

For that, I am eternally grateful. If they hadn't, I would have been dead.

-X-

I don't know about this chapter, something just feels- bleehhh.

You get me?

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it. Please R&R and tell me if this chapter was too short maybe? No actual paring in this chapter; wait for it to get juicy. ;)