So, I'm giving it a shot. I'm making an Altair/OC story, I know, terrible T.T Doing my best to make this one unique from the others and to not make the main character a Mary-Sue. Please review and tell me if you think I should continue with this story.

(And yes, I am still going to be working on Loving Hate, dontchya worry!)

All original characters belong to Ubisoft, everyone else belongs to me me me :3

"Asa! Hurry up with that horse, would you? We do not have all day, child! Soon your father will be home and expecting dinner on the table!"

Ugh. Why me?

"Do you not listen to what I tell you? For Allah's sake, child, hurry up!"

Oh, yeah, I know why.

"Ooo-uumma! It would at least be polite to look at me while I'm speaking to you!"

Sabir is always like that. Always bellowing, 'Asa, come here' or 'Asa, go do that', or, my personal favorite, 'Ooo-uumma! Asaaaaaaa!' You've no choice but to give him credit, though; anyone who's willing to put up with a woman like me is worthy of a pat on the back. Or, in my circumstances, a bale of hay thrown at them, which is exactly what I did to make my point to Sabir.

He squabbled when the straw suddenly attacked him, swinging and flailing his arms as if he was teetering on the edge of a cliff. I sighed, shaking my head, "You know I can't call it a day before my work here is done," I gestured to the horses and gave him an innocent smile. "Five more minutes?"

He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Now, if he was thinner, I guess he'd probably look more menacing, but to put it simply, my good friend Sabir was a man who never refused his rice or pita bread. "And of your father?"

"Father can wait," I turned around and headed towards the last stall to my right. "I just need to finish mucking out this stall. I promise!"

"Horses, horses, horses," he grumbled under his breath as he walked away from me in defeat, "why could she not show this affection towards a man?" He grumbled more of his thoughts out loud, but I refused to hear them. He was always saying how a three and twenty year old woman should be married by that age. I suppose I give a completely new meaning to the word 'modesty'.

I turned to the stall and began mucking it out. Surely it was not such a sin for a woman to do this type of work, no? Or, maybe people consider it a sin since this was a man's job.

Men. Sweaty, smelly, hairy, disgusting creatures that walk around and strut their weight all over the place. Give me a horse any day and I'll gladly roll in the hay with it over a man.

I shook my head from the mere thought of the male species and turned my attention over to Basil, my personal favorite horse. He was a beautiful Arabian, I had to admit; a dull shade of white with grey ears and a soft-as-silk grey mouth. He trotted up to me from his stall and whickered in delight as I ran my hand up and down his powerful forehead. Cooing to him, I pulled out a carrot slice from my pocket and the little monster greedily gobbled it down. That little glutton.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and laughed when he began nipping my forehead with his floppy lips and I nipped his forehead right back. See? Men don't deserve this sort of affection from me.

They certainly don't deserve kisses from me either, but I believe Basil does. It's how we bonded and became the best of friends: kissing. He'd tickle my mouth with his whiskery furry one, and I'd do the same thing to him as well (not to mention I'd make ridiculous noises). I knew that if Father came into the stables and saw me with Basil, he'd have all of my features checked and examined to make sure that I was truly his child, for my father was a very serious man. Unlike Sabir, he didn't tolerate me at all. Nope. If I were to make a mistake, whack! right across the cheek, or sssk! with the blade to the arm. I have faint scars to prove it, too.

But that's why Sabir is mainly in charge of me. Father is afraid of himself, especially when he is around me. I think it has something to do how my personality is so unbecoming for a woman and so alike to my mother's. Or, maybe it is because he feels guilty for putting my mother to death.

I'm not sure, but I sure am thankful for Sabir! He is my Father's best friend- ever since they were children- and has always looked out for me. Thanks to my plump guardian, I was not forced into marriage. Hooray, pass the kebab this way! Although my life is free, I have to admit, it is somewhat lonely. For twelve years, I've been working at the stables in Damascus, waking up every morning before the sun even came over the horizon to tend to horses. I only knew horses. I could tell you everything about them; behavior, traits, diet, tack, riding, playing, breeding, and so on and so forth.

But yet, I know not the first thing of humans. I do not understand why the men look at me like I'm a failure. Allah smack them! If anything, I am a success! I learned from a very young age how to be responsible and how to treat others with respect (a shame no one else in Damascus knows how to do that...).

I pulled myself away from Basil and sighed. I had to get back home. Father was a grumpy man when his belly was not full, and the mere thought that he'd have a kitchen knife on his person if I came in that door late...

Saying goodbye to my friend, I hurried out of the stables.

Sure enough, once I entered the town square, everyone looked at me like I was some foreign species. Maybe I was.

Okay, it is unlady-like for a woman to be wearing knee-high shalwars and a simple kameez with sandals, but it's blazing hot out here! I'm sorry, man with miles and miles of towel wrapped around him, but this woman likes ventilation.

At least the guards liked me, especially one by the name of Wadi. He barely saw twenty years yet, and still he was the nicest out of all of them. Shame on those stinky hairy beasts- and I'm not talking about horses.

He saw me making my way across the square, kicking up little clouds of dust, and he motioned me over to him. I sighed, knowing that I could never turn him down. He was one of the few people in this city that saw me as human.

"Asa! It's so good to see you- augh!" He wrinkled his nose and covered his face with his hands, much to my amusement. "What is that smell? It... it smells like-"

"Horse. It is horse, Wadi. I just got back from the stables."

He laughed and playfully punched me in the shoulder. "Aha! I should have known! You're always playing around with them and always at the stable. So, how is stable life anyways?"

I shoved him back and smirked at him. "Oh, it's absolutely satisfying. You know; cooped up all day long, feeding animals, walking said animals, bathing the beasts..." I shook my head and laughed at his fascinated expression. "Life is well lived!"

Wadi placed his hands on his hips and shook his head slowly at me, but he was still smiling, thank Allah. "Sabir seemed upset when he came past this way, you know," he raised a curious eyebrow at me, "any idea why?"

I took a step back, feigning offense, "Why, I do believe you are accusing me of-"

"ASA!"

I didn't need to turn around to know that voice. I'd know it anywhere.

Father.