So, this is by far my longest chapter, which I like! :3 I know the first two have been kind of short, a little under 2,500 words, well this guy came out to be close to 4,000 words. I almost got this chapter to be 10 pages long while I was working on it the past two days. I was thinking it over, and wondering if I should split this into two chapters, but then again, once I get my fingers typing. I won't stop until I found a good spot to keep you guys on edge, hehe :D. Anyways, I have no idea if any of you guys heard about the shooting that happened in Colorado, well I was over there last week for orientation, and I was heading home back to California when that happened. So my family were so worried about us, when we were out there cause they knew I was heading to Colorado for the week and know me and my family are suckers to go out to the movies every weekend. Well my condolences go out to the families for what happened. Well, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I might start righting them super long, cause that is just the way I like to do, some might be short and others long, but I will surely try and make them good for you. Please review and fave my story! :3
All characters belong to Ubisoft, minus my character Cassandra Hunt.
P.S. I've been having an idea of making a sort of side story for Malik, cause I love that guy. It will be connected to this one, but their will be a twist to it. Just to give you a bit of spoiler alert, Cassandra does indeed have an ancestor during this time, but I will not reveal her till later on in the story. And if you guys do love the idea of me making a side story for Malik with this OC of mine(Cassie's ancestor), let me know! :)
Cassandra stared at the hooded man she had managed to carry up to the rooftop, and to hide him in one of the roof gardens nearby. She stood over him, looking him over, "What are you going to do with him Cassie? You don't even know this guy." She muttered to herself, before pulling her bag off.
She needed to treat his injuries at least, especially the one on his side, shoulder, and thigh. She kneeled down, opening her back, and pulling out the small things she usually carried, a few bandages, a single needle, and plenty of thread.
She chewed on her lip, staring at him, meaning she would have to undress him, a complete stranger to her. Her gaze flickered to his face, she could barely catch a glimpse of how he truly looked because of the shadow his hood casted on his face. She set the things she would need on her bag, before leaning over him. She undid the clip that was across his chest, the one that held his small dagger behind his back, gently lifting him as she put his equipment aside.
She removed the wide, leather belt across his waist, noticing the several throwing knives it held, setting that aside. She tugged the red sash from around his waist, before she removed the leather vambrace that held his hidden blade and the other vambrace he had as well. She grabbed the end of his tunic, swallowing her nervousness, before she tugged it up.
She removed his tunic quickly, keeping her gaze upward toward his hidden face. He laid before her, simply in his pants and leather boots. She shifted, as she glanced down at his face, feeling herself suck in air at how handsome he looked. She noticed he had, good facial features, high-cheek bones, a strong jaw line, honey-light brown hair, which was cropped short, but looked good on him. She reached out, slowly running her thumb across the scar that ran down his lip. She cocked her head, recalling seeing that very same scar, in the exact same place as…. "Desmond!" She pulled her hand back, quickly searching for her phone and scrolling throw her messages.
She opened the picture message she had gotten, and brought up Desmond photo, gazing at it, before holding it by the stranger's head and gazing back and forth. Son of….biscuit! They look the god damn same. Please don't tell me, this is some hocus pocus crap, Abstergo has done to me!
She tucked her phone away, taking a deep breath, before continuing what she had been doing. She reached out, her hands on their own accord, running down his chest, feeling his abs, seeing the many scars the covered his body. She sighed, "Focus Cassie…just patch him up and go." She whispered to herself, grabbing her needle and some of the thread. She cleaned the wound as best as she could, before slowly stitching up the wound on his side.
She turned her attention to the one on his shoulder, wincing at how deep it was. She set to stitching that as well, before grabbing her bandages. She wrapped his injuries, going around his waist and up across his chest to cover the one on his shoulder. She sighed heavily, sitting back on her rear as she stared at him. She stared at the cut on his thigh, before stitching that up as well, leaving his pants on. She wasn't even sure men here, wore underwear or not, and she did NOT want to find out.
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Altair could feel, thin, slender fingers running and working around his injured thigh. Could feel, the tug of skin, and the sharp pain that ran up his leg. Was…Were they stitching his injuries up? He slowly opened his eyes, not moving his body to alert them, that he was awake. He kept his breathing slow, staring at the feminine figure leaning over his leg.
He felt a warm breeze, looking around to notice that he was in one of the roof gardens to hide from the guards and archers. He noticed his tunic, and equipment beside her, his hidden blade gone from his arm. He slowly reached out with his hand, keeping an eye on her, as he slowly, but surely, pulled one of his throwing knives.
He quickly got up, ignoring the sharp tugs on his side and shoulder, the throwing knife pressed against her throat. He was nestled between her legs, his full weight pressed against her. He could feel her breath catch in her throat, her breast hitch against his broad chest. He kept one hand, wrapped around her wrist, before he felt a familiar sharp feeling against the underside of his jaw. Heard the familiar sound of a hidden blade slide out, and pressed against his own throat.
"Unless this is your way of thanking people for saving your life, and stitching you up…..I…I suggest you get off of me." He heard a feminine voice say, pressing the tip of her hidden blade harder into his jaw.
He blinked once, when suddenly, she rolled them over and managed to remove the throwing knife he had possessed. She flung it aside, the knife embedding itself into the roof garden. One hand was pressed against his chest, while she pressed the hidden blade harder into his neck. He gazed up at her, slightly amused at her actions, but he didn't let that show on his face.
He looked at her features, her jet black hair was braided down her back, with bright green eyes. Her skin was tan, but fair, with a slender, but curvy figure. He noticed she wore strange garbs, garbs that revealed way too much for a woman. His gaze flickered to her face, noticing a faint scar just below her jaw line and one along her throat to her collar bone. He noticed several others on her body, his gaze having dropped to her midsection when her tank top had risen and spotted the nasty scar near her hip bone.
"If you wish for me to thank you, I suggest you get off of me girl." He said, staring at her, waiting patiently for her to remove her blade. He felt the blade vanish from his throat, heard the familiar shink of the blade slide back in.
"Now, before I get off, let me ask you a few questions. Where am I and I mean by year as well?" She asked him, having laid her hand against his chest as well, now having both pressed against him.
"Jerusalem. 1190 A.D."
"What!" She nearly shrieked, Altair rolled them over quickly, placing his hand over her mouth when he heard the sound of chain mail rustling nearby the roof garden they were in.
"I swear, I thought I heard something over here." One of the roof archers spoke out. His shadow passing across the fabric of the roof garden, causing Altair to tighten his grip across her mouth. He waited until they passed, and a couple of minutes before removing himself off of her.
He looked at her, "What year did you think it was?" He said, grabbing his tunic and slipping it on, grabbing the red sash and tying it around his waist. He pulled on his leather vambraces, testing out his hidden blade, before pulling on the wide leather belt around his midsection and finally, pulling on the strap that held his short dagger. He pulled up his hood, his features becoming completely hidden from her view now, he felt better, more comfortable then before.
"2012." She said to him, as he had been putting his equipment on.
"2012? Are you from the future? Is that what you are trying to tell me?" He said, tilting his head slightly, gazing at her from beneath the hood.
She nodded, grabbing her black bag and pulling it on, strapping it across her midsection. "I don't know how I got here, but the last thing I remembered was being on a mission to save a friend, someone who looks very similar to yourself. Here, look." She said, pulling out her cell phone, and pulling up the image of Desmond.
When the image showed Desmond, he reached out, snatching her wrist that held the phone, "Why does this person look like me? Did the Templars hire you? Are you working for them!" He asked, snarling, his hidden blade sliding out and pressing against her side. She wasn't fazed, having expected such a reaction from him, well of course Cassie, you have some sort of magical device showing an image of Desmond, who happens to resemble the brute before you. "If you think I work for Templars, then Assassins from this time period are truly messed up in the head to believe everyone might be working with them." She said, her fist striking out to get him on the jaw.
Altair blinked, surprise that a woman would have the guts to punch him like that. He looked at her, pulling his hidden blade back as she turned around, raising the back end of her tank top. What she showed, surprised him, just below her shoulder blade was the symbol of the creed branded into her skin in blank ink.
"You bare the creed, yet, you are a woman." He said, earning him yet again another punch, and this time on his injured thigh. He grimaced, hunching over from the pain rising up, "Just because I'm a girl, doesn't mean I can't be born into the world of being an Assassin." She growled, fixing her tank top, glaring at him.
"I just need to go to someone who can take me back home. I….I know about the apple." She said, watching for his reaction, his hand striking out to grab her by the throat.
"How do you know about the Apple?" He growled, shoving her against the wall of the roof garden. She winced, raising her knees to her chest and kicking out with her legs to catch him on the chest, ignoring the wounds he had. He wasn't fazed from her kick, ignoring the pain that rose from his shoulder.
"I know about the Apple because, we are looking for one in my time." She said, coughing a bit, rubbing her bruised throat, glaring at him. "Seems like men of this time, have no respect for women."
"Look, I just need someone to help me." She said, looking at him.
"How should I know you are saying the truth. How should I trust you? If you are really an Assassin?" He said, staring at her from beneath his hood, she couldn't see his face, but he could see hers. He stood up, ignoring the pain in his leg, watching her rise as well.
"Nothing is true, everything is permitted. That is still our motto in my time period, just as it was in yours. I know who you are….Altair." She whispered softly.
He didn't say anything, turning around, his back to her. I need to take her to Master Al Mualim, he should know what to do with her. If she knows about the Apple…and if she truly is an Assassin like she says. Master Al Mualim would be able to see if she is telling the truth or not with the Apple.
He turned to look at her over his shoulder, "I'll take you…under one condition."
"What is it?" She asked, before he suddenly knocked her out. "Bastard." She whispered, falling limp in his arms.
He lifted her, throwing her over his shoulder. He lifted the fabric of the roof garden, looking around, before slipping out with the girl thrown over his shoulder. He would need to check in with Malik, which he wasn't in the mood to deal with at the moment, and then head back to Masyaf to report to Al Mualim.
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It was a couple hours later, Altair landed in the bureau, girl still over his shoulder. Having to maneuver throughout the rooftops from the eyes of the archers. It took him longer then he had expected to get back to the bureau to report to Malik.
"You're finally back, novice." Malik's irritated voice came from the room.
Altair dumped the girl, nonchalantly onto the pillows were the Assassin's rested after a mission, before heading into the other room to debrief with Malik.
"Talal is dead." He said, pulling out the bloodied feather and setting it down on the counter before Malik.
Malik glared at him from the other side of the counter, setting down his quill and stopping what he was working on. "Oh, I know, I know. In fact Altair, the entire city knows! Have you forgotten the meaning of subtlety?"
"A skilled Assassin ensures his work is noticed."
"No Altair, a skilled Assassin maintains control of his environment!"
"We can argue about all the details Malik, but the deed is done. Talal is dead, and that is all that matters. I've accomplished the task that Al Mualim has asked me to do."
"Go then. Return to your master like the loyal dog that you are Altair." Malik said, waving him off.
"I can not, I need you to tend to my injuries first, and to check on my guest." Altair said, heading back into the court yard of the bureau to check on his guest.
Malik quirked an eyebrow, "Guest?" He sighed, before heading to the back room, and gathering his medical supplies. He came back out, walking through the doorway, "You always tend to bring guest back Altair, how many times do I have to tell you." He said, before halting and catching a glimpse of the unconscious young woman on the plush pillows. Altair was sitting cross-legged on a couple of pillows, having removed his equipment.
"You can stop gawking at her Malik, and come over to check my wounds." Altair spoke in annoyed tone, watching the dai stare at her, as if he hasn't seen a woman before.
Malik shook his head, snorting, "I can leave you to die their by an infection and tell Master Al Mualim how his favorite pet died."
"Or, you can tend to my wounds so I can quickly get out of your hair as well….Malik."
"Why do you always tend to come back after a mission, with something or someone Altair. Are you that lonely? Or does the Master not allow you to settle down yet? Is this your punishment for losing Ada then?" Malik said, making Altair growl in warning when he mentioned Ada, his hand flexing and the hidden blade sliding out in.
"Shut your fucking mouth Malik, before I do it myself. I simply brought her with me, for Master Al Mualim to talk to her. She is not from around her, nor from this era like us. I suggest you come over here and check my wounds, so I may go." Altair said, glaring at him from beneath the hood, his fingers curling into a fist, the hidden blade sliding back in. He grinded his teeth in annoyance, he didn't like him bringing up Ada, he still couldn't forgive himself for losing her, letting her slip from his fingers like that.
Malik rolled his eyes at the threat, before kneeling down and setting his medical supplies down besides himself. "Well, remove your tunic Altair."
Altair slipped one of his arms out, only half removing his tunic since, he was injured on one side, his shoulder and side. Malik lifted the bandages a bit, looking at the stitching done on the wounds, "You need me to tend to your wounds, but it seems like you've already done so Altair." Malik said, looking up at his half hidden face.
"Malik….has your mind ever thought to think that, I would think twice about doing my own injuries."
"Then who did it, novice." Malik said, sighing in annoyance.
Altair glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping woman, Malik followed his gaze. "Her."
"Well…" Malik said, raising his hand and slapping it down on Altair's stitched up shoulder, "You can thank her for doing a good job of stitching you up. I'll simply apply some ointment to speed up the process then." Altair winced from the slap, glaring at the dai angrily.
Malik quickly applied the ointment to his wounds, doing a quick check to the one on his thigh as well. "I'm finished. Go clean up Altair, there is a fresh set of your garbs in the trunk, and rest for a bit. I will send a note to Al Mualim and let him know of your succession and that you will be on your way there. Should I mention the fact you will bringing a guest or do you wish to surprise him?"
"Don't mention it in the letter about her." He said, before getting up, and heading out of the room to clean up and dress in fresh, clean clothes. Malik watched him leave, before glancing at the young woman asleep still. He cocked his head, noticing the leather vambrace on her forearm. He walked over, kneeling down, and lifting her hand, looking it over, the creed symbol was on top of the vambrace. He turned it over, noticing the hidden blade.
He glanced up at her face, never noticing when her fingers twitched, her hand flexing a bit, causing the hidden blade to slide out. Malik's gaze dropped down to her hand, glancing up quickly to be met with green eyes.
"Altair….your fucking idiot." She muttered, raising the hand that held the hidden blade to her head. She didn't notice though, that the man before her wasn't the idiot Assassin who had knocked her out.
Malik spoke, "The novice you just called 'idiot', is changing right now."
Cassandra jerked up, staring at the man in front of her. The first thing she noticed was his missing left arm, before looking back up at him, his onyx black eyes watching her. His skin was very much the same like the idiot who knocked her out, just slightly lighter. She noticed he had a nicely trimmed goatee on his chin, and his hair was jet black, and was short. He seemed to be dressed in the same outfit as Altair, but she didn't see or spot any equipment on him. She noticed, he wore a black robe over his Assassin garbs, and where his left arm should have been, the sleeve was pinned up to his shoulder.
She glanced up, noticing her hidden blade out, before retracting it back in, and looking at Malik. "And who might you be then?" She asked, sitting up better, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Malik. Malik Al-Sayf, and you?"
"Cassandra Hunt, but I usually go by Cas or Cassie, either is fine. May I ask about that?" She asked, glancing at his arm, "I'm not used to seeing Assassins in your condition, let alone one still allowed in the field."
Malik glanced down at his missing left arm, his right hand coming up to grab his shoulder, he sighed heavily, "I'm still an Assassin, but simply relieved of my duties as one and since I'm no longer allowed to be as one. I was put here at the bureau as a rafiq. You can ask the idiot of an Assassin who brought you here to answer that question about my arm, it's his arrogant behavior that caused this."
"Altair? He did that?"
He nodded, "His arrogance caused me to lose my arm and my younger brother, Kadar." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "While the idiot is getting cleaned up and dressed in clean garbs. Do you mind helping me with something?" He asked her, standing up from his kneeling position, his medical supplies in hand.
Cassandra nodded, "Sure." She stood up, pulling her tank top down, she blinked. Waving her hands in front of her, "Wait! Wait! Wait! How can you be so calm right now with me? Altair thinks I'm a Templar or a Templar spy, despite me bearing a brand of the creed on my shoulder blade." She said, putting her hands on her hip, and looking at him.
Malik snorted, "Have I mentioned that Altair acts like a novice? I don't think the Templars would be employing woman into their service of trying to take down our creed or to control the people." He said, motioning for her to follow him into the other room.
She followed him, watching him disappear behind a fabric into a different room. She waited glancing around, she walked over to the counter glancing down at the parchment spread out and noticing black lines drawn all over. "A map?" She glanced at the corner where it read Jerusalem.
"You ruin Malik's map, and he'll kill you." A deep voice came from behind her.
Cassandra jerked around, her fist coming out to connect with his jaw. Altair cursed, grabbing her wrist roughly in his hand, "That's what you get for knocking me out earlier." She growled, yanking her hand out his grasp, glaring at him, as he rubbed his jaw.
Altair lunged for her, Cassandra dodged him easily, hooking her leg around his and knocking him down face first onto the floor. "Come at me again Altair, and I'll kick you where the sun don't shine." She said, watching him get up from the floor, glaring at her from beneath the hood.
"Seems like there is finally someone who can knock you flat on your face, novice." Malik said, stepping through the fabric, chuckling softly.
Cassandra glanced up when Malik walked in, huffing, "I've didn't think men of this era would be so cruel and rough with woman. I'm glad, I wasn't born around this time, if not, I'd hang myself by now." She said bitterly, before glancing at Altair quickly, "Anyways, there was something you needed me to do for you." She asked him, and Malik shook his head. "I got it done. Oh, Altair, I sent the pigeon to Al Mualim, so I suggest you start heading to Masyaf."
Altair tugged on his robes, dusting himself off, "Yes, I better head to Masyaf now." He said, grabbing Cassandra's arm and dragging her along. Cassandra growled at this gesture, tugging on her arm, "What the hell Altair? What did I say not five seconds ago?" There was a loud smack and a few curses from the courtyard of the bureau.
Malik watched them go sighing, "This isn't going to end well, I can already picture some sort of disaster happening along the way or in Masyaf with those two."