Assassin's Creed: Shadow Falcon Chapter 7: Beating, an assassin's creed fanfic

Okay, I dont like the first two paragraphs butI had to do a bit of tweaking with this story because this whole chapter was RPed out originally and I had to do a bit of editing... Anyways, read the notes at the end, especially if you are confused.

Jerusalem – 1191

Sibylla paused on the roof of the Assassin's bureau and waited for Altair. She could feel his eyes on her and she ignored him. He apparently was content to ignore her too, for he passed her without a word and moved over the rooftops with alarming speed. She raced to keep up with him and it was clear that he was trying to lose her or make her turn back. She growled and kept up with him a little less easily than she would of if he wasn't deliberately trying to lose her.

This went on for hours as he went from one informant to the next. She dismissed his behavior and willingly hung back, lest one recognize her. No matter how angry she was with Altair, she did not wish for him to be in any more trouble with her father. But then he refused to allow her to eavesdrop and left her alone while he went to pickpocket the documents he needed. She grew bored, restless and even frustrated. He said not a word to her though, simply signaling her to stay back. If he was determined to make her quit this mission and leave him in peace, then he was sorely mistaken because she was equally determined to be on this mission.

As he led the way back to the bureau, she'd finally had enough of his silence and made up her mind to say something. She opened her mouth and then promptly snapped it shut again. No words came to her and she realized that she had absolutely nothing to say to him. She sighed irritably as they both dropped down in to the bureau and stood before Malik. He was pacing, no doubt clearly agitated.

"Malik," Altair said in a greeting.

"Come to waste more of my time," Malik asked darkly.

"I've found Talal. I'm ready to begin my mission."

"That is for me to decide," Malik snapped as he tossed the record book up on the counter with a loud thud, dust and sand flying up in a musty cloud. Altair was silent for a long time, glaring at him. Malik glared back.

"Very well! Here's what I know: he traffics in human lives, kidnapping Jerusalem's citizens and selling them into slavery. His base is a warehouse located inside the Barbican north of here. As we speak he prepares a caravan for travel. I'll strike while he's inspecting his stock. If I can avoid his men, Talal himself should prove little challenge."

"Little challenge?! Listen to you! Such arrogance."

"Are we finished," snapped Altair, irritably. "Are you satisfied with what I've learned?"

"No, but it will have to do," Malik growled and placed a single white feather on the counter in front of Altair. "Rest, prepare, cry in the corner... do whatever it is you do before a mission. But make sure you do it quietly."

Altair stood silently, mouth open like he was going to retort but closed it and took the feather, slipping it into a pouch on his belt and turned to walk away.

"Wait," called Malik. "What of the Novice? What has she to report?"

Sibylla looked between the two men. Altair was glaring down at her, the corners of his mouth curled down in a frown. His eyes were locked on her and she had the feeling that he wanted her to lie. The fool, didn't he know that she could not lie to Malik? When her eyes slid back to Malik, he was glaring at Altair's back. He sighed, heavily.

"Altair, she was sent with you for a reason. You cannot keep her from the mission."

"The mission is mine and mine alone, Malik" Altair growled as he turned to face the other man. "It was assigned to me and the Master did not assign me a novice."

"But I did! And I, currently, outrank you."

"Fine." Altair turned towards Sibylla and snapped, "Prepare for the mission, child"

"Altair," Malik growled. "Treat her with respect! You make this far more difficult than it has to be with that arrogance."

Sibylla glared up at Altair in complete shock. Did he really just call her a child? She was far from one and a seven year age difference hardly made her a child to him. He certainly didn't think of her as one three years ago. She growled, trying to bite back the retort on her tongue but failed to do so, unwilling to bear the slight against her, especially not from he who had taken so much from her.

"I am no child, Master," she hissed.

"You will hold you tongue, Child," he snapped, whirling back on her. "Or I will cut it out. Now start climbing!"

Sibylla crossed her arms and stood her ground, glaring fiercely up at him, not willing to budge until she had won this standoff. He had a lot of nerve threatening her and she was honestly surprised that Malik hadn't come to her rescue. No, Malik simply watched, an amused smirk on his face.

"I'd like to see you try," she snarled.

Altair grabbed her rather suddenly, his firm grip hurting her arm and he dragged her into the courtyard and out of Malik's line of vision. He then threw her to the ground with a snarl.

"I am your superior! Now you will climb!"

Sibylla hit the ground hard but stood quickly, ignoring the aching in her backside and arm. She glared at him, waiting only a moment to see if Malik would come. It sounded like he was pulling out a map to work on and she inwardly sighed. She was alone in this. She gathered herself up and stood a bit straighter. Altair was going to show her some respect or she would make this mission a living hell for him.

"And you will keep your hands off of me," she snapped with a ferocity that matched his violence. Before he could reprimand her, she turned and scaled the wall quickly, pausing only when she reached the top and had pulled herself into the roof to wait for him again. It didn't take him long to reach the top himself.

"Stay by my side," he said quietly with an undertone of respect. She stared at him for a long time, confused. He did not look at her, but he did look bothered and she had to wonder what had taken place in his mind between the time she snapped at him and now. She quickly masked her expression and nodded.

"Yes, Master," she replied, working a tone appropriate of a subordinate into her words. "Lead the way."

"You must not draw attention to yourself, you will not kill unless ordered to…" he paused for a long moment and appeared to be thinking, scratching his chin. "… In fact, do not do anything without orders. Any mistake, no matter how small, can potentially lead to death. Just follow my lead, young one."

He walked to a ladder nearby and stood waiting for her response before he went down it. She followed him, sighing to herself. It was a lecture she had heard from him before. Malik constantly quizzed her on all these things as well. Still, she smiled a little as she came to stand beside him.

"I had a great teacher, once, who taught me all these things," she said with great respect. "I have not forgotten the lessons he taught me so long ago. Malik won't let me forget them either. Not after what happened to Kadar…"

She trailed off and a lump rose up in her throat. She looked away from him as his eyes went wide and he stiffened, biting her lip. After a moment, Altair relaxed beside her but there was tension between them. Her heart ached and she imagined that Kadar was a painful subject for him as well, though for an entirely different reason.

"Well, as long as you can keep yourself from getting killed," he stated, his voice tight. He glanced at her quickly before starting down the ladder. She followed, though she slid down to keep him from waiting, receiving a glare from him. Too flashy apparently. She watched him carefully as he scanned the area, reading every little movement he made.

She saw the Templars at the time as him and he quickly folded his hands before him and moved as the scholars did. She watched him for a long moment until he was up the street and she realized that the Templars were watching him as well. Altair was readying to go up another ladder, his back to the Templars, not realizing that they had followed him around the corner. Sibylla thought rapidly. She pushed her hood off, a dangerous idea, pulled her hair from its pinnings and ran towards the templars.

"Help," she called as she ran up to them. They'd never suspect a woman of being an assassin, especially when she was so boldly approaching them. "Help! My father's being robbed! Please, you must help us!"

The guards turned towards her and she saw Altair turn to glare at her before he sprinted up the ladder. The two men looked her over and she suddenly became very self conscious. They looked at each other and smiled.

"Please," she begged. "He's a wealthy merchant and I am sure he will reward you greatly for saving him. Please, you must hurry!"

The guards grinned and the one on the right looked at her again. She chanced a glance at Altair who was crouched on the roof watching her intently. He looked annoyed.

"Where is he," the one guard asked.

"That way," she pointed down the road that so conveniently curved. They nodded and trotted down the busy street, leaving her behind. She waited until they were out of sight before sprinting towards the ladder that Altair had climbed moments ago.

"You insolent little girl," Altair snapped, grabbing her roughly and dragging her away from the ledge. "If you so much as breathe wrong, I will strike you stand!"

Out of pure reflex, Sibylla swung at him, her fist connecting with his chest, which was like stone. There was an audible pop in her wrist when she hit him and she yelped, twisting herself free of his grip and clutching her wrist that wasted no time in erupting in a sharp throbbing pain. She couldn't understand why he was acting like this. She had just saved his ass. She didn't care if he realized it or not and summed it up to a hurt ego. She made no effort to stop the words that spilled from her mouth.

"I told you to keep your hands off of me, Altair," she hissed his name with venom. "Stop treating me like a child, swallow your damned hurt ego and do your job properly."

She knew she had struck a chord with him, and not a good one, when he seized her already injured arm in a vice grip, pulling her to him and holding her still. He struck her then, releasing her as the force jerked her head around. Blood filled her mouth again, the cut from earlier reopening, as she fell. She caught herself with her hands, her wrist protesting to the weight she now put on it. She stayed like that, in complete shock, hands and knees aching from connecting with the hard roof.

"You will never speak to me that way again, Novice," he spat. He then kicked her hard in the ribs, obviously to punctuate his point to her and turned away as she rolled onto her back, the force of the kick having brought her all the way down. She coughed weakly and lay there for a good long moment, glaring at his back.

Sibylla honestly couldn't decide what hurt more; her list of injuries or her pride. Tears welled up in her eyes as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth made her cringe and the throbbing in her ribs made her clutch them. She stood slowly, deciding that she was not going to put up with Altair's foul mood. She spat at his feet a good amount of blood before turning back towards the ladder. She went down it as quickly as she could and made her way down the dusty road bruised, bloody and crying.

It took less than two minutes for him to get to her. He grabbed her from behind, winding his arm around her waist and pulled her into an alley that came to a dead end. He didn't let her go, but held her more gently than someone in as foul a mood as his would, and pressed her to the wall. She was aware of him, his hard body, his masculine scent, but unlike every other time he'd been this close to her, she was disgusted by him and his perfect form.

"Where do you think you are going" he demanded, his tone still angry.

Sibylla turned her teary eyes up at him, not giving a damn if he saw that she was crying and thought her weak for it. It was his fault anyways. She looked up at him with all the hatred she could muster and pushed him away weakly.

"Home, Altair, I'm going home," she said wearily, wincing at the pain in her mouth. "Finish the mission however you see fit. I will not willingly subject myself to someone who would lose his temper so easily. I'm your pupil, Altair, not you damn sparring dummy." She let that sink in for a while and was satisfied to see him visibly wince under her glare. After a long moment of silence she sighed and said, "I'll not tell Malik what happened. I'll tell him I misjudged a leap and fell. It's believable enough."

Altair's brow furrowed and something in his eyes changed. He opened his mouth and closed it again and she could tell he was fighting an internal battle of some sort, though what it could possibly be, she had no clue what.

"Sibylla," he began and paused, hesitating. "I… You crossed a line as an apprentice that never should have been crossed."

She opened her mouth to argue, outraged at him, but he put his fingers to her lips to silence her.

"But it is I that is at fault," he continued, firmly. "I am your teacher and as such, I need to display more control."

His hand dropped from her mouth and she stared up at him in shock. Altair never apologized to anyone for anything. It was clear in his face that this did not come easily to him, his pride further injured by this apology. He hated being wrong and even more so, he hated admitting when he was wrong. He had always been that way.

"Please join me," he said softly, just above a whisper.

Sibylla regarded him coldly for a long moment, shifting painfully as she took a deep breath, her ribs protesting to every last movement she made. She knew she had crossed a line and knew that she was just as at fault as he was. It was hard for her to admit that she was wrong too.

"Forgive me for being out of line," she sighed, displeased with how colored with pain her voice was. "I demand as much respect as the next person and I react poorly to any and every slight against me. It's self-defense for me… forgive me. I shall try to stay my hand and my tongue in the future."

She looked away from him, wincing as she took another deep breath. She wondered how forced her apology sounded to him because it felt extremely forced and she wasn't sure if she honestly meant it. She knew he accepted it, whether or not she meant it, when his hand came to rest on her shoulder, his eyes softer than they had been all day.

"Come on," said softly and lead her out of the alley gently. It took her a moment to realize it, but was quickly confused to see that they were headed back towards the bureau.

"Wait," she protested, but did not physically fight him. "I thought that…"

"You're injured," he cut her off. "Your hand is useless to you and thus, you are useless to me. You need rest and your injuries need to be looked at."

Sibylla did not argue with him and looked up at the ladder that Altair had stopped in front of. She turned to climb it, wincing and whimpering with the movement. Altair was right behind her. He was closer than she would have liked but she knew he only did it to ensure that she would not fall.

"Just a little further, Little Girl," he said softly.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she heard him use one of his old pet-names for her. She shook her head and concentrated on the climb, refusing to let old feelings surface. He did just beat her and he had hurt her in more ways than just that in the past three years without even being present in her life. She was not ready to completely forgive him for everything. She pulled herself up the last few rungs and walked towards the opening to the Bureau. She stared down at it doubtfully. Altair was beside her almost instantly.

"I'll go first," he said as he turned and dropped down. As soon as his feet touched the ground, his eyes were on her and he motioned for her follow, indicating hat he would catch her. She was irked that he expected her to fall, now matter how sure she was that she would. She dropped down, not bothering to grip the wall, her wrist being useless for the time being, and stumbled. She fell roughly against Altair's chest, and he caught her, holding her securely, taking only a steadying step backwards himself. She winced in pain and let out a small yelp. Altair didn't move to get her out of his arms and she took advantage of that factor until the pain passed.

"What in the named of Allah have you done to her," yelled Malik.

Altair released her immediately and turned to look at the very angry Rafiq. Sibylla quickly sidestepped him to be between the men, an odd desire to defend Altair rising up in her. Malik looked as if he could kill Altair.

"I fell," she said quickly. "I misjudged the distance between two rooftops and tried to catch myself. If Altair hadn't been there… it would have been much worse."

It was clear that Malik wasn't buying the story and she knew she had to look a mess with bloodstained teeth, bruised and swollen cheek, clutching her ribs with a blatantly limp wrist and covered in dust. Malik's suspicious eyes drifted from her to the man behind her.

"Is that so?" he said, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Tell me, Altair, what act of heroism did you perform?"

Altair snarled, "I do not have to explain myself to you, Malik. She is my apprentice and I shall do with her as I see fit."

Altair took her unbruised arm then and pulled her to her room. How he found it, she did not know, but he seemed to navigate his way there as if by memory. He released her there and slammed the door, locking it. With a sigh, he pushed the hood from his head and ran his fingers through his hair, glancing at her and beginning to pace a bit. Sibylla was honestly infuriated with him again. He was treating her like a piece of property and she didn't like it. Nor did she like the fact that he was suddenly possessive over her when he had originally not wanted anything to do with her.

"How dare you," she hissed. "Just because I am your apprentice does not mean that I am your property! Do not treat me like I am!"

She was panting, the effort from yelling was too much for her. Her breath caught in her chest suddenly and she hit her knees, lightheaded, searing pain ripping through. She knew the binding over her breasts were not helping her any right now. She saw Altair ready to strike her again, for her rebellion, but was inwardly smug when he hand dropped and he kneeled beside her, holding her.

"Foolish little girl, that is exactly what you are," he growled, though his voice was far more gentle than the meaning behind his words. "You, body and soul, are the property of your Assassin Master, which happens to be me."

She felt Altair's fingers in her hair and felt him pull her head to the side, exposing her neck to him. She inhaled sharply knowing exactly what he was going to do and braced herself. He bit her at the crook, where her neck and shoulder came together, the one spot that made her weak. Goosebumps rose up on her skin and she started to go limp against him, her mind fogging, eyelids dropping. She was shocked that he remembered where to bite after so many years. Her stupor ended as his teeth sank down into her flesh and did not stop until she knew he was tasting blood. She tried to push against him, the pain driving her, but also hindering her and she could do nothing but give in and allow him to mark her as his. He lowered her slowly to the floor, his jaws slowly letting up on her neck and she held on to him as her mind finally cleared and she realized that this had a different meaning than she had originally thought. She let him pull away from her, hardly noticing the frown on his face as he sat against the wall.

"I have something to tell you," he said heavily. She simply rolled her head to the side to look at him, a slow trickle of blood tickling her shoulder as she lay there. He looked troubled and her stomach knotted painfully as she saw the look in his honey eyes.

"Does it have to do with Malik," she asked cautiously.

"Yes," he replied, running his hand through his already messy hair.

Sibylla sat up quickly, reeling slightly from the pain and the overload to her senses. She was honestly concerned now, for Altair looked like a man about to face an executioner and it did not sit well with her at all. She watched him carefully, noting how handsome he still was and had become with age.

"Go on then," she said carefully, wiping the blood from her neck.

Altair launched into a long and detailed account of that day in Solomon's Temple, recounting with shame the horrible things he'd done, the innocent people he killed and his part in Kadar's death. He talked of the day that she left Masyaf, of Adha and his failed mission a year ago. He spoke without stopping for over an hour before he finally fell silent, his eyes on her and she knew he was waiting for her reaction. Tears were spilling down her cheeks. Altair had become a hard and bitter man and it was too painful to acknowledge. But it was the details about Kadar's death that hurt most. Altair told her the things that Malik had refused to speak of and a silent rage bubbled under skin. He disgusted her.

"You bastard," she hissed and slapped him. She was honestly surprised when he didn't react. She glared at him, the waves of hurt overtaking her. She beat her fists against his chest angrily, ignoring the pain in her wrist, as a sob tore at her throat. Now it was all coming out, everything she had held in and she hated him for making it come out and she told him so. Finally, she collapsed, exhausted against his chest and just sobbed. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and letting her cry.

"You took him from me," she whimpered pitifully. "You almost took Malik from me. I hate you."

Altair said nothing, simply rubbed her back. Time seemed to drag as she failed to stifle her sobs, crying uncontrollably, and Altair sat motionless and silent. Her head felt like it was going to split open from the raging headache that developed, but still she could not silence herself and she felt weak and pathetic here. And it was all Altair's fault. Yet, she made no effort to get away from him. She didn't want to cry alone and she wanted him to see the pain he inflicted. She wanted him to suffer and feel guilty for this because he once said he loved her. He was going to hurt as much as her whether he wanted to or not.

Notes:

The dialogue between Altair and Malik in the beginning is taken directly from the game.

Altair is moody. I know, I know, slightly out of character for him but I promise that it will all be clarified in the next chapter as to WHY he's acting this way. All that I will say now is that Altair has no problem treating her exactly as he treats any other novice.

This could easily be legit in the game. Remember when the Animus says "fastforwarding to a more recent memory" after Altair recieves the feather? Yeah, this is what would be happening during the time that was skipped over.

Sibylla's wrist injurt is also legit. I based it completely off an injury I once had from punching someone. Basically, the force of the punch caused her hand to be pushed back into her wrist and is easily remedied by having her hand popped back out, bracing it and not using it. It's incredibly painful and sucks.

Sibylla has a fractured rib or two. Altair kicked her that hard. He's kinda of an asshole, but like I said, it will all be explained in the next chapter.

I decided not to lengthen the chapter by actually writing out Altair's retelling of the incedent in Solomon's Temple and the events with Adha in Altair's Chronicles primarily because we've all played the games. We already know. We dont need to hear it again.

If anyone remembers the prologue, Altair called Sibylla "little girl" and "little falcon". The pet name "little girl" was already in use for the story but it's use was guarnteed when I realized how fitting Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence" was for the two.

"Words like violence
Break the silence
Come crashing in
Into my little world
Painful to me
Pierce right through me
Can't you understand?
Oh my Little Girl,

All I ever wanted,
All I ever needed
Is here, in my arms
Words a very unnecessary
They can only do harm.

Vows are spoken
To be broken
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable."

Double meaning for Altair biting Sibylla. First, to punctuate his point. Second, his way of saying "MINE". He lost Sibylla before and he doesnt intend to lose her again.

Oh Noes! A spoiler for Chapter 7!

Malik is not getting involved because this is all between Altair and Sibylla. He sorta planned this. He's concerned about what is going on but he's not going to step in until he really needs to. He thinks Sibylla is far too sheltered for her own good sometimes.

Author's Note:

I stayed up all night to write most of this. Had to call it quits at around 5am. I left you guys on a bit of a cliffhanger and I did it on purpose. This is not over! Chapter 7 is going to be from Altair's persepctive and we will have sme insight into what the fuck is wrong with him right now, because seriousy, that was all pretty messed up, right?

Things will get a bit... steamy as well for those of you who are dying after the prologue. Not smut, but it will be good and you all thoroughly enjoy it and I promise this is pretty much the end of Altair's irrational mood swings.