Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed

Warning: Self-beta-ed

ONE!
One chance with life is all you get
TWO!
So pick your side and place your bet
THREE!
Cause you know we've been here before
FOUR!
Won everytime but who's keeping score?
FIVE!
Still kicking, still alive
SIX!
We built this to survive
SEVEN!
Everyday is a blessing
EIGHT, NINE, TEN!
Here we go again!

Oh kid I've heard this all before,
Don't waste your time, don't be so sure,
I've seen them come, I've seen them go,
They thought they'd win, but now they know,
You ain't the first to come and try,
Won't be the last to say goodbye,
Through all these tears I still believe,
We're bringing all our enemies
DOWN [x14]

"Bring 'Em Down (Weapons)" by: Lostprophets

Chapter Twenty: To Be Malleable

*Two weeks later*

After multiple hours of staring at the training rink, watching Cahil and Kinja duke it out in the arena, I'd reached three conclusions: a) Cahil was gonna be one hell of a fighter someday, b) Kinja looked distracted, and c) I was the world's biggest coward. I had successfully avoided the Mentor and Altaïr for a full two weeks.

Let me tell you one thing: I wasn't aware that I could keep out of trouble for that long. My life had been limited to the kitchen, the women's chambers, and the alleys of town. Oh, and stalking Altaïr like the desperate loser I was before realizing that I had an unhealthy obsession with him.

Like yesterday, I was sitting on the river banks, minding my own damn business near my special spot near the bridge and Altaïr comes strutting up the river with none of the childish fear of water like he had before. I scrambled into a hiding spot and found myself watching his every move like it was my last day on earth. Saliva gathered in my mouth as I watched him take all of his clothes off except his trousers. Women gathered on the bridge above me and giggled as he flexed easily; bronze muscles rippling. A feeling of immense jealousy washed over me.

Altaïr dove into the water with ease and gave a visible smirk to the women gathered on the bridge before submerging himself completely. I held back a scream of frustration as all the women squealed as he held up a bundle of cloth and tossed them to the shore. Then it clicked and I started hyperventilating. Those were his pants.

He started swimming easily towards my location and I froze up. He was directly under the bridge and out of his fan girl's direct line of sight. I closed my eyes tight and wedged myself into a corner so he didn't see me. I heard rippling water and soft footsteps on the bank before clenching my eyes closed even more. This wasn't happening to me.

I waited until I was positive he was swimming away from me before sneaking away from the area and hauling ass towards the bureau.

Malik cleared his throat from next me and gave me an exasperated glance. There was no doubt he knew who I was avoiding and probably why. Instead he remained as silent as ever and kept me training; he even came up with a permanent wrap to help support my wrist. I was glad to say that because of my time away from Altaïr and boredom forcing me to practice; I had gained skills quickly from all the extra practice and my wrist was healing up again, albeit slowly.

I attempted to plead my case with Malik that I wasn't avoiding Altaïr, but he noticed me practicing my Assassin skills more and didn't buy my alibi for a second. Instead he just raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"We have been requested to go to The Mentor's office." I paled slightly and Malik gave me a steadying glance. Together we strode into the large room and faced Altaïr, Kinja, Al Mualim, and The Mentor. I took a defensive stance and purposely avoided looking at Altaïr.

"It has come to our attention that Trystan Valéry is going to be close by in a meeting. Given this opportunity, we must act quickly. You four will leave immediately and finish this silly business once and for all. Perhaps then we will finally have some peace."

Altaïr's POV:

It hurt. Being without her constantly. His hands constantly shook from anger now, but he couldn't kill. Not with those pale eyes haunting him. The ache in his chest took away his breath… it hurt more than the broken ribs.

Stupid girl. Why did she have this power over him? What did that witch woman nun do to him to make him so… so… entranced? It was killing him. His muscles were beginning to lose their normal luster. Nothing tasted good.

He did what she said. She told him to stop fighting her. And he did.

But… wasn't not fighting back enough? He let her beat him, he let her kick him to the ground and release all her pent up anger on him. He allowed her to win. He let himself be vulnerable just for her.

Yet she didn't obey the Creed; all he stood for. The thought made his breath catch; though on the same side, their loyalties lay in different places. And what about Malik? What did he say? Surely Malik must've said something to her against him. Anima couldn't just give up on him. The girl wouldn't do that surely.

Anger coursed through his veins. Of course Malik would say something against him. It would by atypical of him if not. Did he change her mind?

They were together.

It had only been three days.

But it felt like so much longer. Didn't she understand that she was his? That she was loyal to him and his to her? They shouldn't have fought each other. She shouldn't have hurt him. He shouldn't have been so hurt by her. That's not how the Creed worked. They were siblings in arms and partners in life.

She should have listened to his orders. Not only was she a lower rank than him, but she was a woman. He, in every aspect, was in charge. And she didn't comply.

He stood up quickly, before sitting again in exhaustion. She haunted him; in his dreams it always ended up the same: Anima dead because of treason, and he was never there to save her.

Why, oh why, did that woman have to manipulate him so? One thing was for certain, one thing he had faced multiple times and was just beginning to accept: there was no life without Anima, for he was completely enamored by her.

Suddenly it was clear: this wasn't about physical fights. She was speaking about a battle of beliefs; A battle of wills.

He'd be damned if he'd lost her.

Anima's POV

I ended up ranting to the ever-patient Amelia and Cien, who were on break from the medical ward.

"It's like… like… he's ice cold steel sometimes! He doesn't have any emotions at all. He's just a blade waiting to be swung by whoever wields it! He can't think for himself, he's so incredibly ignorant that he pisses me off! And I can't say a damn thing against him or the Creed because Lord knows that he can't do any wrong!" I screamed at them while pacing the unnaturally empty library.

Amelia and Cien shared a glance between each other. I noticed it and glared at them.

It was Amelia that spoke up, "You know what they say, 'metal only bends when hot'."

A scoff came from my mouth, "Malik already said that I can't change him."

"Malik can be wrong sometimes." Cien pointed out. Cien always made a habit out of proving Malik wrong; they had become close like brother in sister mostly because of their similar attitudes and views created multiple common interests between the two. Though imagining Malik as a medic wasn't very comforting.

I rolled my eyes, "I don't think he's wrong about this one."

Cien shrugged. "Yeah, you're probably right."

It was Amelia's turn, "What I'm saying is that you have to be… tedious… Work him up about an idea, then manipulate that pure passion into your side."

Shaking my head, I sighed, "It won't work. Al Mualim and The Mentor have him wrapped around their fingers too tight. He's practically their ring."

Cien smirked slightly, "Well then, I suggest becoming a home wrecker."

I choked slightly, "How old are you?"

"Nine… or ten. Maybe eleven. I forgot my birthday a while back."

A pang of sadness for the girl went through my chest before I nodded. "Anyways, Kinja, Malik, Altaïr, and I have to go out tonight to assassinate Trystan."

"Keep Kinja out of trouble for me." Cien told me seriously before blushing slightly.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And why would that be?"

"Because… because… Raan's not there and he's Kinja's mentor, so now it's your job." She stuttered, "Besides… he only listens to you anyways." She huffed afterwards.

It was now time for Amelia and me to share a knowing glance. I smirked, "Okay. No problem." A slow smile came to my face and I skipped out of the library without a second glance.

"You know, Altaïr likes you more than you'd ever imagine." Amelia called out behind me. My mind flashed back to a previous conversation with Malik.

I had an idea. My smile turned into a wicked one. A very, very good idea that might just get me full access to control over Altaïr.

A stray thought came to my mind. Damn… I was power hungry. I giggled slightly before running to my room.

*Later that evening*

Nervous energy coursed through my veins and everything was strikingly clear. No sound escaped my hearing, no movement escaped my sight. I was the perfect predator. My hands shook as I stood on the rooftops with the others, waiting for The Mentor and Al Mualim to send us off. It was supposed to be a quick mission, but a very important one.

This was the end. And I was part of it.

Rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet I couldn't stop the tingle of excitement run up my spine. Kinja noticed it and gave me a shit-eating grin, which only added to my anticipation.

The Mentor started giving us the rundown:

"There are large wheels that keep the drawbridge up. Kinja, it's your responsibility to keep the drawbridge up so the soldiers can't catch up to you when you flee." Kinja nodded diligently.

"Anima, you need to clear out the heavily armored guards ahead of Altaïr and Malik; clearing the path of sorts." I forced a determined look onto my face and complied.

This was perfect.

"Malik, you will oversee everything and fill in the gaps. Altaïr, you will be making the actual assassination. Remember: this is your one chance. Don't mess up."

Together we all bowed and started towards the outskirts of town on foot. Using horses would be too obvious. Everybody was on high alert.

I ran slightly behind everybody on the way there. Kinja ran next to a surprisingly lenient Altaïr, but Malik noticed my strange behavior and dropped back next to me.

Altaïr spared a quick glance back. Our eyes connected for a minute and we met each other head on with fierce determination. I forced myself not to smirk. Malik gave me an annoyed glance and spoke lowly and evenly despite running. It was hard for me to hear.

"What are you planning, novice?" He growled.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Why would you say that?"

"I know you better than you'd expect."

"Can you promise me something?" I asked softly.

A bewildered sigh, "I always do, don't I, novice?"

"I have a plan."

"That interferes with the most important mission the bureau has assigned us?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Please tell me this isn't about pride, novice."

"Slightly." I responded. A groan. Altaïr and Kinja both looked back before plowing ahead. "Don't worry. I've got this."

"You damn well better." Malik huffed.

"It's more about Altaïr than me." I pointed out.

"Figures."

"Just play along, please?"

"I always do, novice."

"That's because you're the best mentor in the history of ever." I kissed his ass jokingly.

"It seems you've unearthed my rebellious streak." Malik grumbled.

We stopped near a haystack directly outside the castle. Malik nodded at me, "Anima. Clear out the heavily armored guards and hide them. You have five minutes. It's essential that you don't get caught. Now go!"

I nodded before quickly scaling the wall. I sprinted from place to place and dragged the guards into random hiding places; working quicker and more efficiently than I had ever before; I noted to thank Malik for all his extra training.

Within about four minutes I reached the large front gates and spied the ropes holding them closed. Drawing Altaïr's dagger, I sawed through three quarters of the thick rope quickly on each side. The gates groaned in protest. By now I could spot the other three climbing over the wall quickly. I glanced around and spotted a guard. I drew a throwing knife and sprinted within throwing distance before hitting him squarely in the neck with the small blade. I sprinted back to the large gears of the gate while keeping an eye on the three. By now Kinja was working his way towards the gate. Using another throwing knife, I jammed a random gear near the top of the gate. There was another groan of protest from the heavy metal bars.

I glanced at Kinja quickly before making my final move: with trembling fingers, I climbed up to the top of the gate tower and broke the main lever to pull the gate up, which the guards usually used. Now it could only be opened, but not closed.

My heart raced as I barely sprinted out of Kinja's line of sight towards my required spot. I dispatched a couple of more guards and bolted towards an ever-diligent Malik.

"We need to go." I whispered breathlessly.

A pained look flashed across his face before we trotted silently across the rooftops. Just as we reached the outer wall I dropped down. Malik gave me a confused look.

"Go to Kinja and give him a chance. Oh, and get Cien after all of this!" I called out ominously. I saw my mentor roll his eyes before stalking off; clearly not happy about going against orders.

Whipping around, I made my way to where Altaïr was located. I sniffed in distaste lightly before getting my hands dirty. A guard was right below me. Cutting open his throat while whispering words of respect, I rubbed the bubbling blood from his throat all over the front of my robes and cut some of my armor and dented some of it in so it looked like I was heavily wounded. I soaked some of my robes in blood before setting off with a practiced limp.

The central area of the castle was where Trystan was surrounded by his allies and Altaïr was waiting. I made sure to limp across the rooftops and made a sloppy attempt at hiding myself. One of the guards saw me immediately and quickly thereafter, calls of 'Assassin!' rang throughout the clearing. Time slowed down as multiple crossbow bolts came at me. Nearly none of them came within potentially dangerous range but one. I calmed myself and caught the bolt before pressing it to my side lightly and clutching it like I had been hit.

I forced myself to fall off the building. My body fell two stories and I landed on my back with a resounding 'thud!' – exactly opposite of how I was taught. I was alone for the moment and took the chance to take a sip and dispose of the vial I'd stolen from the healer earlier. Almost immediately I felt delirious and light headed. The pain from my impact from the ground made it worse.

Not a moment later the guards found me. A boot caught my ribs and I coughed weakly. The figure above me was blurry as the fever set in quickly.

I drifted into unconsciousness willingly, praying to whoever was out there that Altaïr was at least half as hot headed and predictable as I had imagined, because without him I was as good as dead.

A/N: Dun, dun, dunnnn! Well, what do you think. A little plot twist? A little bit of mystery? A little bit of manipulation and damsels in distress? A little bit of acting? A little bit of rambling? Yeah… I never plotted this little scene out, but I decided that it would be a good change in events.

Anybody willing to do a one-shot with a prompt?

Please review?