A/N - So this is my first attempt at writing FanFiction and frankly i'm surprised at the subject and the direction its taking. Nevertheless i'm glad i finally had enough brainwaves to type something.

Also I apologise if there is any mistakes, I did take the time to spell check and read over it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed or any of it's characters. I do own my own character but i haven't thought of a name for her yet.

--

Acta Sancti

I fell face forward into the dirt. My rest on the ground was short lived however as a hand yanked me roughly back to my feet by my hair.

"Get up you filthy whore!" A guard spat in my ear. The alley was dark and I could vaguely see the outlines of three more guards coming to join in his fun. There was no point in screaming, I reasoned as no one would bother to help but I tried anyway.

"Help! Someone plea-" A swift punch to the jaw silenced my pleads and I fell back to ground dazed. The guards grinned lecherously down at my struggling form as I forced myself to find my feet. Shakily I pulled myself to my knees only to feel a sharp pain at the back of my neck. The guard at the front pulled down on my hair forcing my head up to face him. His face split into a grotesque smiled as his other hand reached down to unbuckle his belt. I struggled helplessly in his grasp, my unwillingness only making him pull harder on my hair.

Clamping my eyes and mouth shut, I tried in vain to think of something else. The ragged laughter of the other guards taunted my ears as they mocked my futile attempt of resistance. I tried and failed to block them out, knowing too well that it would soon be their turn. I gagged violently at the smell of the man before me as he divested himself of his trousers and underclothes, barely noticing as a side thought that the other guards were now silent. I didn't dare open my eyes for fear of what they might see, until suddenly the hand grasping my hair went limp and I heard a dull thud in front of me. Cautiously I cracked open one eye, jumping back in horror as the four guards lay before me in pools of their own blood. My back hit something soft and I turned slowly to see white loose fitting trousers tucked into long brown leather boots partially obscured by long white robes.

Letting my gaze travel upwards, past his red sash, my eyes widened at the sheer mass of weaponry attached to his wide belt. Strapped to his wrist were two faded, brown leather gauntlets – the one attached to his left arm was longer, reaching his elbow and had intricately inscribed metal plating covering it. He only wore one glove, on his left hand, it was fingerless and I noted with a slight grimace that he was missing his ring finger. Forcing my eyes upwards - past three other thin leather straps, held together at the right side of chest by a sliver clasp, which no doubt fixed another piece of weaponry to his back - I stared into his face. The top half was completely shadowed by his hood, his eyes lost somewhere in the darkness. His straight, smooth nose sat perfectly above his curved lips and a light stubble played across his strong jaw.

His lips twitched in a small smirk and I suddenly realised I was staring. Mumbling a thanks, I stumbled around to make my way back to the street. A strong arm caught mine and spun me back round to face the strange white robed man. Oh God! Did he save me just so he could rape me himself?

"Are you hurt?" He asked, his voice rich and deep. The question caught me completely off guard and I blinked slowly before nodding. My body was still shaking from the shock of the whole situation but I wasn't hurt. Not physically. Thanks to him. I tried to turn again but once more his firm grip stopped me.

"You're shaking" He stated matter-of-factly. Staring at him again, I took a deep breath trying to calm my nerves and still my shaking.

"I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." I nodded again, forcing a smile, trying to reassure myself as much as I was him. His grip on my arm loosened and he stared down at me for a few moments before releasing me completely. I again mumbled a thank you as he turned away from me to face the wall. In two swift movements he had swung himself onto the rooftop, silently walking away.

Shuddering, I turned again towards the street. My feet tiptoed round the blood and bodies of the guards as I made my way back into the crowds and home.

It wasn't much. A deserted room, only partially covered by a roof, with some rough linen sacks and hay in the corner. Crawling into my makeshift bed, I pulled off my worn out shoes and curled my knees up to my chin. Closing my eyes I could smell the acrid tang of unwashed skin; hear the evil chuckling of the guards; then sudden silence; the metallic taste of blood in the air. Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, I tried to fight the tears slowly clawing their way up my throat. I muffled my choked sobs in the coarse fabric as restless sleep slowly washed over me.

--

A/N - So tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome.