Robin Hood: The Assassin's Gift

By: Shadow Chaser

Author's Notes:

Robin Hood and all of its characters do not belong to me. This story is written for fandom and not for profit. This story takes place roughly at the end of July, early August and crosses over with Assassin's Creed. I have two companion stories to this one,Silence, a one-shot, and Solace of Silence, which is in the process of being written and takes place one year prior to Robin's return from the Holy Lands.

Background Information:

In the game Assassin's Creed, Altaїr is tasked with eliminating nine targets who threaten the achievement of peace in the Holy Lands. He discovers that it was all a deception by his former mentor Al Mualim, leader of the Assassin Order of Masyaf. All ten, including Al Mualim were Templars, seekers of an object called the Piece of Eden which is so powerful, can tip the balance of the war and control the minds of others. After killing Al Mualim, Altaїr is left with the Piece of Eden…

Story:

Part 1 – Plots

NOTTINGHAM CASTLE

She crept along quietly, using the shadows and the blackness of her clothes wrapped around her to hide from the patrolling guards that walked around the castle halls during the dusk. Her cloth padded feet made little to no noise as she ran swiftly down the halls, dark eyes darting this way and that, making sure she wasn't spotted or worst, followed.

Hadiya was her given name and the only name she had lived with for the first twenty-seven years of her life; and she was the best.

She paused outside two rather large double doors, her form blending in with the shadows as she observed the two guards right outside of the door. The door itself was slightly ajar and she could hear voices coming from within. Angry voices.

"-the last time you've done it Gisborne? Hm?"

"Milord there is-"

"I'm sick of excuses! I don't care what you do or who you employ, I want Hood dead! Dead! Do you hear me! D-E-A-D!"

"He has allies-"

"Then burn the villages! Burn Locksley to the ground! We all know that those sniveling peasants you have in your village are loyal to Hood! Did you really think that by taking Hood's titles and lands you would win over the hearts of your peasants-"

"Milord that is not fair."

"Fair! I'll tell you what's fair Gisborne! Fair is when I see the head of the King on a platter and my place at Prince John's right hand side! Fair is when I see Hood swinging-no, I want Hood's head on a pike!"

Hadiya smiled behind the folds of the black cloths wrapped around her face, covering her whole head so that only her inky dark eyes showed. That man was so boisterous and loud…it was a wonder that his leftenant did not kill him on the spot. She knew that he could have done it if he wanted to… She shook her head slightly and drew out two small sharp knives and flicked them at the guards.

Blood spurted from both guards' necks as the knives hit the main artery simultaneously and they collapsed to the floor in a messy clatter. Wasting no time, Hadiya drew another knife and threw it into gap between the doors where it embedded itself into the walls right next to where the Sheriff's ear was.

"Guards! Guards!" she heard Sheriff Vaysey shout in exclamation and a crooked smile worked its way up her lips as she stepped out from the shadows and walked boldly towards the door just as it opened wide.

She immediately drew out her short sword and pointed it at the throat of Guy of Gisborne before he could even move and her eyes flashed a warning. "Don't move if you value your life," she said in a clipped tone while her eyes traveled the man's height. Tall, dark-haired and still fair-skinned, she saw darkness in his eyes and something peculiar...

"Gisborne what are you-"

Hadiya forced Gisborne by sword point to turn around and expose the two of them.

"Oh," all color drained out of the Sheriff's face as he saw her and the sword she held to Gisborne's throat.

"I could have killed you without even coming into the room, Sheriff," she said, arching an eyebrow at the man who sat down in his seat, trying very hard not to let the fear in his eyes show on his expression.

"So why don't you?" the Sheriff asked in a calm manner.

"Because you hired me," she suddenly let her sword down and shoved Gisborne forward towards the Sheriff. Sheathing her sword, she stared at the two of them just as the booted feet of some of the castle guards thundered to a stop outside of the room. She smiled as she knew that dozens of swords and arrows were pointed at her back.

"Hired? When did I hire an assassin to kill myself?"

"Hadiya," was all Gisborne said but she smiled widely beneath the black cloth across her face as she turned to face him.

"So, you've remembered."

"But I thought-"

"The Grand Master notified me when your request came through, Gisborne so I thought it prudent to come and visit these lands which your King split my brothers and sisters' blood for. I see that it's for waste," she gave a withering look to the Sheriff who just snorted, "and your master here holds you on such a pitiful leash."

"He's not-"

"Oh? Then what are you, Gisborne? Lawless and lordless?" she snorted, "trash fodder is what you've become. You've grown soft and weak. I should kill the both of you right now, but then, the war in my country would continue, wouldn't it?"

"Gisborne?" by now, the Sheriff had gleaming crystals for eyes and Hadiya smiled slightly at the wolf-like look the man wore. Now that was someone who had ambitions and plans…not like Gisborne who had apparently gone soft in the year he was away from the battlefield.

"My Lord, this is Hadiya of Arsuf. I sent out a request for an assassin a month and a half ago after James failed."

"Ooo, an assassin," the Sheriff, now exuding confidence, stepped away from his desk and approached her. "She's Saracen is she not?"

"And you're the Christian dog aren't you?" Hadiya shot back, enjoying the look of shock that briefly appeared on the Sheriff's face before he gave her a fake-plastered smile.

"My dear, I don't really believe in God. I believe in money, power, and the death of two people, the King and Robin Hood. Those are the Gods I worship."

"Then we can come to an agreement over one of those things. I believe I can kill your Robin Hood-"

"Ah," the Sheriff tutted slightly, earning a frown from Hadiya, "he's not my Robin Hood. He's now your problem."

"Payment?" she asked, holding out a black gloved hand.

"Half now, half when you bring me Hood, alive if possible. If not, dead is fine," the Sheriff dropped a small pouch of gold into her hand and she hid it under the folds of her clothes.

"This will take time, but in a week's time, you will have your Robin Hood's head on a pike," she echoed his words back to him, a smile on her face.

"A week? Then I'll be counting," he gave her another sardonic smile before turning around and returning to his chair.

Hadiya gave Gisborne another brief look before spinning around and heading out of the door. "Oh," she called back, "you'll need two new guards. The ones out here are dead."

Then she disappeared in a bang of blinding smoke.

Sheriff Vaysey glared at Guy of Gisborne, part of him secretly pleased that his Master-at-Arms had finally taken the initiative to do something that he hadn't thought off, part of him angry at him that he had the gall to summon an assassin – yet a plan that he hadn't thought of – who tried to kill him. "She better be good, Gisborne, or it's on your neck."

"She's good," Gisborne massaged a part of his neck where she had dug the short sword painfully into without even pricking him. "She's the one who trained me to kill the King in the Holy Lands."

OUTLAWS' CAMP, SHERWOOD FOREST

The camp was alive with laughter of the gang and Robin watched with amused eyes as almost everyone poked fun at Much's cooking. The only one who wasn't was Allan-a-Dale, sitting quietly on a log a bit away from the camp fire, absently whittling away at a stick with a small knife.

Robin knew that the man still felt very guilty for nearly costing all of them their lives during the summer solstice tournament about a month ago and his betrayal of them ate at him. Allan had insisted that he leave before he could cause them anymore harm, but through the efforts of the others, they convinced him to stay, saying that he needed friends at the moment instead of wandering around Sherwood and England alone.

Robin hadn't said anything, but he didn't object to Allan staying and knew that while the thief felt moderately guilty towards the others in the gang, it was through his own actions that he nearly killed Robin himself. That part of the guilt was what had to be eating away at him.

Even when they had tried to save the populace of Nettlestone a couple of weeks ago, Allan had volunteered to stay at camp instead of helping them, saying that he would screw up again. It was almost as if fear had consumed him and Robin knew that type fear all too well. He had seen it in too many of his soldiers back in the Holy Land and knew that even he himself had been in its grasp a few times.

It was only through the intervention of a handful of people that got him back to his senses…for the most part.

He had told Much to try to talk to Allan like the way he had talked to him during his time in the Holy Lands, hoping that his former manservant could break the hold fear had on him. So far it didn't seem to be working, but Robin could see hints of the old Allan in the faint expressions the man had while he was whittling away at his stick. At least the laughter and normalcy of the gang had started to work its way back into Allan; now if only he could convince Allan that the rest of the gang forgave him for his actions.

Robin didn't know if he himself had truly forgiven Allan, but he did understand what he was trying to do. If Marian had been in the same position as Anna- he suddenly cut the thought off, not wanting to think about how he had almost lost her again.

"Hey Robin!" Will's cheerful voice called out and Robin snapped out of his musings just in time to catch two apples tossed at him by their resident carpenter. He smiled as he caught them easily and began to juggle them.

"Wait, that looks fun," Djaq grinned too before tossing another apple at him and he caught the third one in the middle of his juggling rotation before slowly standing up, making sure that he had his balance and rhythm going before he walked slowly towards them, knowing that all eyes were on him.

"Master," his grin grew broader as he noticed Much shaking his head before resuming his cutting of the stew they were having tonight.

"Pretty good," Little John pursed his lips and nodded a bit, seemingly unimpressed until he tossed him a fourth apple. Robin quickly adjusted his rhythm with the other apples and let the fourth one join the other three. The scattering of applause rang throughout the gang as he managed to keep all four from falling to the ground.

"How many more apples do we have?" he asked without breaking rhythm.

"Two more," Djaq checked the basket of apples they had received from one of the farmers in Clun.

"Much!" he called out, and his friend turned slightly, shaking his head.

"No master, no," he held up his hands, his chopping knife in one hand, "I'm not doing it."

"Come on, pre-dinner entertainment!" Robin stared at him with pleading eyes.

"No," Much shook his head, before crossing his arms, refusing to be goaded into juggling with him. "The last time we did this no food was cooked and we had to cook in the dark!"

"Much, that was at the King's Camp! We had torch lights," Robin continued juggling, "come on!"

"Master…no," Much shook his head one last time before turning back around and continued to chop away at the vegetables.

Robin had to admire his friend's resiliency and stubbornness and instead, tossed the four apples he had at John, Djaq, and Will. "Hey Allan, heads up!" he called out to the sullen silent member of their gang before tossing him the last apple.

Allan looked up briefly, eyes surprised before catching the apple mid-air. He just nodded his thanks before taking a bite out of the apple and returning to whittling away at another stick, a pile of them by him. It was then that Robin realized Allan wasn't just idly whittling away at sticks, he was making arrows…

A brief awkward silence filled the camp before Djaq cleared her throat noisily and took a huge bite out of her apple. The rest of the gang took it as a cue to do their own things.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" Will asked, munching on his own apple, "that's pretty amazing."

Robin shrugged, "During my time in the Holy Lands, some of the children would come by and ask if we had any food to spare. One of the kids taught some of us how to juggle."

"It's not too hard," Djaq came up to them, having finished her apple and held the two they had leftover in front of Will, "here, I'll teach you."

"My brother and I used to entertain ourselves when we were kids," she placed the two apples in Will's hands after he tossed his finished core into the camp fire; "you just need to keep a steady rhythm going."

Robin left the two to their own devices and wandered over where Much was, "I'll be back after dinner. Keep an eye on Allan, all right?"

"Master where are you-"

"I'm checking up on Marian," he said quietly and Much nodded silently, understanding his worry and his spontaneous juggling act. The camp was in a tense mood lately and while none of them tried to show it, it was palpable with short responses and barely-there smiles.

"I'll save you a plate," he replied.

"Thanks," Robin clapped him on the back before heading away from camp quietly. He didn't take any weapons with him since Knighton was just east of the camp and did not feel too worried that he was going to be ambushed. The sun was setting and even if he was spotted by patrols or anyone, he knew Sherwood like the back of his hand and would be able to blend into the forest.

After all, who would be foolish enough to ambush Robin Hood in the forest that he had made his home?

KNIGHTON HALL

If Marian didn't know better, she would have thought that she wore some kind of big, fat, invisible sign that screamed damsel in distress to every unmarried man that came her way in the past two weeks since she had been recovering from the plague that wiped out half of the population of Nettlestone.

Her room was filled with gifts from potential suitors and while the more girlish part of her was pleased at the attention, the rational part of her, the part of her that she had been using since she became the Nightwatchman, was completely disgusted. When her suitors had found out that the plague wasn't contagious anymore, they came to shower her with gifts and words of comfort so much that when Guy came around and chased them away, she was tempted to thank him for stopping them.

Now she laid in bed, still feeling weak, but getting stronger every day, reading the most recent letter from Anna who wrote to her on a weekly basis since entering the nunnery at Rufford. They were filled with both happy thoughts on her life there, yet tinged with sadness at the one she had left behind.

Marian never told Robin or anyone else about Anna's letters, hoping that they would eventually forget about the ex-thief, since to them, she was technically dead. It was only through her efforts that she managed to save Anna and send her secretly to Rufford.

A gentle knock on her window made her quickly hide the letter under her pillow and she looked up just in time to see Robin peeking his head in, a smile on his face.

"Robin," she smiled before lifting herself off of her pillow and slipped out of the bed.

"Should you be up?" he asked as she gathered her robes around her and approached the window.

"I'm feeling better, stronger even, but the doctor says I should be able to walk around freely in a couple of days."

"That's good," she noticed how sad he looked and reached out a hand to brush a part of his hair that had fallen across his eyes.

"What's the matter?" she asked as he took her hand into his own and gently rubbed it. A faint smile appeared on her face as she could feel the calluses he had on his hand against her own soft ones.

"My men aren't happy. We're tense, afraid, and frankly, morale is low," Robin said quietly, "so much has happened in the last few weeks…"

"You're afraid that if you go and raid one of the Sheriff's towns, your men will fall apart and be captured, or worst, executed," Marian knew that while Robin held her in high regard, sometimes even he fell into the trap of assuming a woman was not as smart as she thought she was. A smile played across her lips as she noticed his surprised look.

"How do you-"

"Robin," Marian held his hand, "I can see it more clearly in the past few weeks. You're used to commanding troops like you did back in the Holy Land. You look at your men like they were your own troops. I may not know that much about warfare, but I do know what the signs are."

"Ah…" he nodded, "your father, right?"

"I'm surprised you remembered," Marian smiled slightly; "you were only, what…nine?"

"I remember the stories he told whenever my parents brought me to Nottingham," a crooked smile appeared on his face.

"Then do you know what your next step should be?"

"To kiss you goodnight?" the smile grew wider and Marian had to laugh lightly.

She was glad that she took at least some of the sadness he had within him away and let go of his hand, "Not tonight."

"Why not?" he gave her a mock-wounded look.

"Because I am still unwell and plus you have your men who need cheering up," she shoved him playfully.

"But I need cheering up," he pouted childishly and Marian shook her head before leaning a bit towards the bars and let him kiss her. It wasn't one of the more passionate ones they had shared in recent months, but rather a gentle kiss; one that spoke volumes as to his state of mind as far as she was concerned. Still, she let herself enjoy it and moments later, the warmth of his lips was gone from hers.

"Goodnight," he said in a quiet slightly husky tone before clambering down from his perch, disappearing into the inky darkness and leaving her by the window.

She touched a finger to her lips, the girly part of her blushing, completely overtaking the rational part of her. He really did know how to push her buttons…and it made her happy yet fearful in ways. Afraid that someday, he would be caught by Guy or the Sheriff and hung for all of Nottinghamshire to see.

These days, she prayed that King Richard would return soon, so that Robin wouldn't have to live as an outlaw anymore.

Hadiya hid in the under growth near Knighton Manor, watching the exchange between Robin of Locksley and Marian Fitzwalter. As soon as Robin Hood disappeared back into the forest, she quickly slipped away, a plan already forming.

NOTTINGHAM CASTLE

The inky night was perfect for the job and he had changed from his traditional white hooded robe for a black-version of usual attire. They had intercepted the message just days after Arsuf received it and he had immediately volunteered to go to England to try to prevent yet another tragedy from occurring. His dual orders, one from his clan the other from an old ally told him that all haste must be made before any of this insidious plan could be completed.

He hoped that it wasn't too late already, but feared that things may have been set in motion long before he received his orders. Still, if he could complete his job, then no one needed to know that he had been here at all.

He dropped down from his perch on one of Nottingham castle's walls and landed softly. Quickly approaching a guard, he suddenly grabbed him by the neck and shoved his left arm against the man's neck. Clenching his left fist, a hidden blade shot out of a bracer he was wear and jammed itself into the guard's neck, killing him instantly. He put the body gently down on the ground before quietly slipping into the halls of Nottingham castle. He had arrived in Nottingham only days ago and had spent time gathering information about his target…but so far no one in sight that looked remotely like his target.

He quietly made his way down a few halls, avoiding guards as they walked by a part of him wishing that he could tear the castle apart looking for his quarry. He knew that any unnecessary deaths within the castle would have huge ramifications, not in terms of populace lost, but for what was happening in the Holy Lands. A short cease-fire had been declared the day he had left to pursue his mission in England, and he hoped that when he was done and returned to Masyaf, the cease-fire would still be there, paving the way for a potential peace between Saladin and King Richard.

No unnecessary deaths were the conditional part of his mission…and that meant avoiding guards whenever possible.

He suddenly stopped in the middle of a hallway, his senses on full alert. His peripheral vision suddenly caught a flash of something and he dove out of the way just as a small knife cut through where he had been standing only moments before.

Drawing out his short sword, sheathed across his back, he held it in a backwards grip, senses alert as to where his quarry would strike next. It seemed that he didn't need to go tromping all over Nottingham castle looking for his target.

"I am surprised they sent you," his target's voice filtered through the air before another glint and knife came flying his way. He immediately cut through the knife's path and it clattered to the ground by his feet.

"We are trying to keep the peace and you're here to destroy it," he said in a quiet, but dangerous tone.

"I'm also here to keep the peace and to get rid of the fly that is threatening to tear this peace apart!"

"He is trying to stabilize the peace!"

"From your point of view. From mine, he is destabilizing the system of government."

"Corrupt from within and a cancer that needs to be destroyed," he replied, blocking yet another thrown knife.

"He is the right-hand man of the terror who destroys our brothers and sisters and thus deserves to die," his target replied before suddenly vaulting up from one of the pillars. "The same terror that influenced men like Robert de Sable who along with those he had corrupted, nearly destroying Masyaf as I recall."

He didn't reply as he stared at his now visible target. Dressed in black garbs like him, his target didn't flinch or give any indication of fear. He knew he was the best and could kill his target instantly so why was no fear evident? Suddenly the sound of many booted feet came charging down the halls and he knew he had fallen into a trap…

"Dear little Altaїr," Hadiya shook her head as the guards surrounded the two of them, "you'll be the perfect bait for my trap."

Altaїr Ibn la-Ahad let his short sword clatter to the ground as he raised his hands in surrender. He was the best, but only in the Holy Lands…here, here was a new territory and he had made the biggest mistake any neophyte assassin could have done…blunder straight into the enemy's territory.

NOTTINGHAM TOWN

"Any sign of him?" Robin asked Allan as they stood, half-hidden by a market stand in the middle of Nottingham, the mid-morning sun beating its rays down upon them. Though they wore their cloaks, both outlaws were already starting to sweat in the summer heat.

"No sign," Allan replied a bit dully to which he shook his head and sighed.

When he had woken up the next morning, he had made a decision to get his gang back in better spirits and knew that he had to start by talking with Allan instead of beating around the bushes. So he had suggested that Allan accompany him to their daily routine of eavesdropping around Nottingham. The others had spread out to visit the other villages to get a feel for the mood of the populace and to pick up any rumors of happenings with the Sheriff or Gisborne.

Allan hadn't really protested spending time with Robin in Nottingham, but he had looked a bit ill at the prospect.

"Allan," Robin bit his lip, rolling his eyes a bit before staring at the dejected thief. "Stop moping."

"I'm not moping," was the automatic and defensive reply.

"Yes you are," Robin felt like he was speaking to a child. "You've been moping since the tournament!"

Ah ha…there was a reaction as Allan flinched slightly in the mention of the tournament. Robin smiled grimly and plowed on. "Did you think Anna would have wanted you to stay this way?"

There was another flinch at the mention of his former flame's name before he noticed the tightening of Allan's jaw, a sure sign that he was getting a bit angry.

"What do you know…you didn't lose Marian," Allan grounded out through his teeth.

"But I nearly lost her, four times already," Robin narrowed his eyes, "and each time killed me."

"Yeah well, Anna died, Robin. She died," Allan stared at him, fiery anger burning in his eyes, "and I couldn't do a damn thing about it!"

"Allan-"

"I lost my brother, and now I lost her," the con-man broke his gaze away from him, finding the ground most fascinating, but the heat of anger was still in his voice. "I nearly killed everyone…" The unspoken, 'I nearly killed you' hung in the air and Robin grimaced as his hip wound echoed a faint phantom pain from the stab wound he received from Allan during the tournament.

"She saved you from the fire," he said quietly.

"At the cost of her own life!" Allan's voice broke in anguish, "I'm sorry Robin…I can't deal with this right now…" He suddenly stalked off around the corner of the market stall they were waiting behind and Robin had a feeling that he had made the situation a bit worst…but at least he got more than a one word response from Allan in the past month so he supposed it was a start.

Just then the familiar face of the contact they had been waiting for appeared on the street and Robin watched as their contact made his way towards them, making sure he wasn't being watched or followed. Their contact pretended to drop something by the stall he was hiding behind and Robin crouched on the ground.

"What news?" he asked quietly.

"Rumor has it that the Sheriff is holding a Saracen within the dungeons."

"Come to negotiate peace once more?"

"I do not know," the contact replied quickly, "but one of the cleaning servants said that she peeked into the Sheriff's office and found a book open with at least two convoys of Saracen slaves headed to Nottingham for a stop over before going to Birmingham."

"The slave trade hub," he said darkly before he scratched his chin, "but why would a Saracen be in the dungeons…unless…" Keeping his thoughts to himself for now, he pressed a few coins into the man's hand before the man got up and hurried away.

"Could the Saracen be sent to negotiate a release of prisoners?" Allan spoke up quietly behind him and Robin looked up to see that he had returned and had been keeping an eye out for guards while he had been talking with their contact. He had to admire the responsibility the con-man took upon himself…the old Allan he knew would have continued to mope somewhere…

"Or was attempting to stop the shipment. Either way we'll have to rescue him and get him to tell us when the shipments will arrive so we can intercept it."

"That's a lot of slaves-"

OUTLAWS' CAMP

"-which means there could be a lot of guards," Much looked ill at ease at the prospect of both rescuing the Saracen in the dungeons and raiding two wagons of slaves headed to Birmingham. "I mean, how do we even know if it's true? It could be another trap, you know?"

"I'll ask Marian to look around the castle, all right?" Robin shook his head, but he understood their concern. They had been falling into too many of the Sheriff's most recent traps and while they had managed to get out of them relatively unscathed, it made them even more wary of what the Sheriff was planning. "Meanwhile, what did you guys find out?"

"The villagers are still skittish, especially the ones in Clun," Will looked unhappy and he knew why. Clun had been hit with a plague and nearly starved to death by the Sheriff who had imposed a 'cleansing period' months ago in order to start a garrison there by killing off all of the surviving villagers. It was only natural that the village was wary of what had happened in Nettlestone could hit their village once more.

"We'll have to deliver some food and goodwill then," Robin murmured quietly before staring at Little John and Much. "John? Much?"

"Nothing too big, but a couple of the children in Locksley are wondering when will you come around again to play with them," Much shrugged and Robin had to smirk a bit while the others had grins on their faces.

"We'll send Will again," Robin shot a look at the young carpenter whose grin melted away into a slightly horrified look.

"Nuh-uh, no way," he raised his hands, "I'm not going."

"But they loved you," John egged Will on, "not counting bramble and bits of grass in your hair the last time they met you."

"And that mud pie," Allan spoke up quietly from where he was sitting by the camp fire, still sullen.

But his comment had the desired effect as the whole gang burst into laughter at the mental image of Will's last outing with the children of Locksley. He had returned with bramble and grass in his hair and half of his face covered in thick, drying mud. Dirt caked a majority of his clothes and he looked like he had taken a dunk in the near by pond.

Out of the corner of his eye, Robin noticed that even Allan looked to be in better spirits and took that as a good sign that the old Allan-a-Dale was returning, slowly, but surely.

NOTTINGHAM CASTLE

Altaїr's arms hurt from being held up by chains ever since he was captured. He had tried twisting and pulling on them, but they held fast. Cursing silently, he still couldn't believe that he had fallen into such an easy trap. His arrogance and confidence in being able to track down Hadiya had been his undoing and he could hear the ghostly words of his long-dead mentor, Al Mualim whispering his admonishment and the Assassin's creed back to him.

He had thought he conquered that arrogance by killing all nine Templars back in the Holy Lands a year and half ago, but now he realized he still had a lot to learn. He may have gained back the respect he once lost in the eyes of the other Assassin Bureau leaders, but he still had a long way to go.

The sound of booted feet made him look up from the ground and his eyes narrowed slightly as he saw the jail keeper along with Hadiya walk in. Her steps were light and cat-like and she held herself with confidence…like a predator that had spotted its prey.

"Ah…Altaїr," she practically purred at him, peer at him in between the bars, "do those chains hurt?"

He stayed silent, glaring at her as the jail keeper opened the door and she stepped in. "Why is someone like you doing here in England I wonder?"

"To stop you," he pulled himself up, ignoring the protests of his sore muscles and stared down at her.

"You cannot stop us, Altaїr, no matter how hard you try," she suddenly kneed him in the stomach and he doubled over, gasping, his arms wrenching from the effort. "We will find the Pieces of Eden and we will have peace in our lands."

"Forced peace," he gasped out as she punched hard into his side, but not as hard as to break his ribs. "A forced peace that will eliminate free will. That is not peace."

"It is however you would want it to be," Hadiya suddenly leaned close and whispered in his ear, "help me, Altaїr. Help me find peace." Her hands trailed his face seductively and he resisted the urge to flinch or react to her touch.

"We grew up together in Masyaf," she gently bit his earlobe, "you know it is me. You know I will never, ever, cause you pain."

He wrenched his face away from her ministrations and stared coldly at her, "That was a long time ago, and you have changed."

"I am who I am. I am the same little girl that you chased after in the commune," she smiled at him before tapping him lightly on the nose, "do you really think that after all these years, your love for me has died? I can feel it…especially-"

The anger within him had been growing for a while and right now it was white hot. He summoned all of his strength and threw his body forward. "Get off of me woman!" Hadiya was suddenly thrown into the bars across from his small cell, her expression one of shock before she steadied herself against the bars and laughed.

"Oh Altaїr, still holding the torch for Adha, aren't we?" she threw her head back and laughed, "you are so naïve."

"And you think that the Templars will let you live after you've gotten the Piece?" he spat at her, "you are the naïve one."

"A little bit of information, my little eagle, she is dead," her eyes flashed and Altaїr resisted the urge to flinch or to believe her words, "and you…pretending to be all so noble for her? Pathetic."

"You will never get the Piece," he grounded out, ignoring her jibes.

"Yes I will," she pushed herself off from the bars and stepped in front of him again, "and do you know why?"

He stared at her silently, wishing his legs weren't held by chains so he could kick her square in the stomach.

"Because you are in here and I am out there," she suddenly backhanded him across the face so hard that he saw stars as his head was snapped into the wall.

Blinking the daze out of his eyes, he watched as she stepped away from him and left his cell, the jail keeper closing the door behind her.

"Oh," she suddenly turned to the jail keeper as if she found him interesting, "please make sure that he is ready to be brought out tomorrow."

"Milady?"

"I want him paraded around, bound and gagged. Bring him to the great hall for a few minutes around the afternoon then drag him back, literally if you want to, to the dungeons."

"If I may ask, why?"

"I want him humiliated," Hadiya pitted him with a wolfish like stare.

"Surely torture will do that?"

"No," her eyes glittered with seductive maliciousness, "he is too well trained for that. He needs…a more special touch."

"Ah," the jail keeper nodded then turned and followed Hadiya out of the dungeons, leaving Altaїr alone once more.

Anger still burning inside of him, he wanted nothing more than to scream his frustration out, but he knew that it was pointless and useless. Instead, he kicked the wall behind him with his ankle, making his chains rattle a bit. He had to get out of here and he had to warn him!

Marian gingerly dismounted her horse and nodded her thanks to the guard that held the reins for her. She felt stronger, but still a bit weak at the knees from lack of exercise in the past two weeks since she had begun recovering from the plague. The doctor had cleared her to start moving around again and Robin had asked her to inquire about a potential Saracen prisoner within the castle walls so she had decided to make the trip to Nottingham castle on the pretense of thanking both Guy and the Sheriff for lifting the quarantine in Nettlestone to save her life.

Though she was mildly annoyed that Robin had come to her window for yet another favor the annoyance was long gone by the time he had explained why he had asked. Since she had been stabbed by Guy as the Nightwatchman and healed by Djaq, the Saracen woman in Robin's gang, she felt she owed Djaq something and felt that by helping her in this way, to help her people escape from slavery, she would at least repay part of that debt.

"Marian," Guy's voice brought her head around and she gave him a faint hesitant smile. She still didn't know how to sort her feelings for Guy. Part of her wanted to believe that he was a sincere man, but the other part of her was disgusted at how ruthless and callous he could be.

"Sir Guy," she greeted neutrally. Though he had long gotten over the fact that she had slugged him hard at the altar and left him there, a part of her always wondered if he ever resented the fact that she had left for Nottingham riding with Robin and she had essentially chosen Robin during those harried hours.

"Should you be here?"

"Shouldn't I not be here?" she asked, blinking.

He gave her a puzzled smile, "I would have thought you needed bed rest."

"The doctor said I would be able to move around and get back to my usual routine," she shrugged, "plus I feel it necessary to thank both you and the Sheriff for lifting the quarantine to save my life."

"Ah, well, the Sheriff is currently occupied with affairs of the shire at the moment," Gisborne answered a bit evasively and Marian raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" she knew Guy was hiding something from her.

"It is nothing that concerns you," he crossed his arms across his chest and took a deep breath, "and I would like to take this opportunity to ask you again to reconsider staying at the castle where you and your father would be able to partake in the comforts we have to offer."

"Knighton Hall is fine," Marian looked away, "and my father's health would suffer greatly in the lack of fresh air and pollution Nottingham has." She turned slightly and smiled slightly, "Thank you for your offer, Sir Guy."

Guy looked like he was about to say more when the sudden commotion from one of the halls across the courtyard brought both of their gazes to four guards struggling to restrain a person dressed in black. From her vantage point, Marian couldn't tell if the person was male or female, but she immediately identified the person as most definitely a Saracen – and the person Robin was probably looking for.

"Who is that?" she asked, moving down the hall towards where the guards were dragging the struggling prisoner towards the dungeons.

"A person of little consequence," Guy blocked her way and she stared up at him, a frown on her face.

"Sir Guy," she said pointedly, her mind thinking fast, "might I remind you of what happened to the last Saracen guest the Sheriff kept here at the castle?"

Guy looked a bit pained at that statement. While Marian wasn't there for Saladin's assassins to nearly kill the Sheriff, Guy, and Robin and his men, she had finally heard the story from Robin during her recovery from the plague. It was a very amusing tale to say the least, especially with the parting shot the Sheriff gave to the outlaws.

"I can assure you Marian that this guest is not royalty. The prisoner was captured last night for attempting to assassinate the Sheriff. We've…questioned the prisoner and it was revealed that the assassin was sent to kill the Sheriff and all nobles within Nottingham on orders from Saladin so the war…would continue," Guy frowned slightly before turning to her, "I know you have left me at the altar, but my proposal still stands. Will you marry me when the King returns from the Holy Lands?"

"Sir Guy," Marian looked away, suddenly flustered, "you leave me no choice…I…I have only just recovered."

"It is a simple question," Guy said, sounding frustrated.

She noticed that the guards had finally managed to get the prisoner past the door into the dungeons and turned her gaze elsewhere. "Is this because of the various gifts I've received from suitors in the past few weeks?"

Guy was silent for a moment and she turned to see him looking elsewhere, but there was the definite sign of jealousy in his eyes. "You are jealous…"

"I am…" Guy took a deep breath, "I am only thinking of your welfare."

"Then please," she placed a hand on his arm, "give me some time to think. Please ask me later."

He stared at her hand before turning his gaze to her face and just for a moment, Marian felt a tremble of fear run through her. His eyes were electric and she could see the passion that he felt for her in them. "Fine," he murmured before gesturing for her to continue walking towards the main hall.

"Thank you," Marian wouldn't admit it, but she was slightly unnerved by his gaze and the way her heart beat just a little faster in his presence.

Vaysey gave a measured look at his current guest sitting in one of the high-backed chairs in the main hall, sipping on some of the wine he had poured for him.

"Your English wine is surprisingly…succulent," the noble was dressed in finery that made his own clothes look like shambles, but then again, for one of the nobles of the House of Helie de La Celle, they were up to their necks in riches over in the French Normans.

"We aim to please," nonetheless, he let a measured smile cross his face. "Now, if you be so kind, why are you doing this?"

"My House?" the Frenchman snorted before licking his fingers from the chicken he had also eaten, "while the rest of my House supports Richard in his Crusade, I do not."

"Um, how do we know that you are…sincere?"

"Simple," Jean de La Celle set his wine cup down and stared at Vaysey, "you don't."

Vaysey refused to be baited and instead, patiently waited to hear what the Frenchman had to say.

"Your Prince John schemes to get rid of Richard's influence, does he not?" La Celle continued, popping a few grapes into his mouth, "But he has enemies in the court. Allies who have returned from the Holy Lands in recent months."

"Yes," he knew what particular one the Frenchman was talking about. Robin Hood might have thought himself to be a simple outlaw, but in recent months, he had seen the reports from the Court and it spoke volumes of the man's popularity. He was being hailed in the circles of those who supported King Richard as his champion and it had brought him up to infamous status.

It was a wonder Prince John hadn't come to Nottinghamshire himself and dealt with Robin Hood. But Vaysey understood that the effort with James of Atherstone, Earl of Hunt a month and a half ago was a warning to him – he had better capture or eliminate Hood soon or else.

"So I propose…" La Celle picked up his wine cup again and took a few sips, "we do nothing at the moment."

Vaysey had been expecting some grand announcement, but this one…left him completely aghast and his jaw dropped in surprise. "What!"

"Nothing," La Celle stared at him like it was nothing.

"Nothing! Forgive me, but what kind of plan is that!"

"Let Hood have his security at the moment. Let him continue his schemes of helping the poor and robbing the rich. Send a missive to Prince John to continue to let rebellion grow in the streets."

"How the-"

La Celle suddenly reached into the folds of his clothes and pulled out a small jar of clear liquid. "This is for your little guest you have right now."

"How do you-"

"We…have our sources," as La Celle reached over and put the jar on the table, Vaysey caught a flash of some kind of tattoo on the man's wrist…and it looked vaguely like the one he had burned off of Gisborne's arm months ago.

"But I don't-"

"Let's just say…she has something we would like," La Celle gave him a frosty smile, "and make sure you do get it in the end. I would hate to explain to the others that we couldn't count on your services."

"How will this benefit me?"

"It will," La Celle's smile widened slightly, "it's a small object shaped like a stone with intricate carvings. When you get it, you will know…and that is when we will begin our real plan."

"I don't get it, what's in this for me?"

"All the riches in the world, along with infinite power. It is the Piece of Eden."

The dusky rays cast their long shadows across the windows of the Sheriff's quarters but Hadiya did not bother to look at what was a beautiful sunset. Instead, she walked around the Sheriff's bird cages, head tilted to one side as she studied the birds. They were so tiny, little things that could be crushed with one hand. Some of them looked a bit thin in places, yet were chirping a fine tune. Some though, were screeching their little vocal chords out and it made for a ruckus in the room.

"Why have you really come, Hadiya," Gisborne's voice was soft, yet held no anger in them and she smiled behind the black cloth still covering a majority of her face. The Arsuf branch of the Assassins didn't believe that female assassins should be allowed to unmask themselves or show any part of their body saved for their eyes.

"Your letter was succinct and it was a cry for help," she poked one of the cages, letting it swing a bit, startling the birds inside. Turning, she glared at Gisborne, "and it was weak."

"It was not-"

"Have I taught you nothing in your brief stay in my country?" she snorted slightly, "pitiful."

"I have power here, and position!"

"And yet why could you not kill Robin Hood? This same man who scarred you?"

"At the time, I thought he was dead," Gisborne growled out darkly, "he should have been dead from a wound like that. Even the King's physicians couldn't do anything about that. The blade had pierced too close to the heart like you taught me."

She stayed silent for a few minutes, letting him stew on his own words as she tilted the same cage, making all of the birds inside spill and flutter around as they tried to find new perches. "He was saved," she said, staring at the birds, "did you know that?"

"By whom?" he looked a bit annoyed.

"Malik and his allies at Masyaf, one of whom is our little friend down in the dungeons," she said conversationally, her eyes on the birds, but her peripheral vision watching him carefully.

"The same ones you warned me about, is that correct?"

She let the cage go, sending the birds into another flurry of activity and approached him, "Why do you think I ordered the guards to parade him around just as your lady friend arrived?"

He stared at her, head tilted in puzzlement.

"Your Lady Marian isn't as faithful as you think her to be," she poked him hard in the chest, "and yet you allow yourself to be so smitten by her. Pathetic."

"She is…"

"She is nothing more than eye candy and a spy amongst your ranks. She loves Robin Hood and yet you are too blind to see that!"

"She told me-"

"Never trust a woman, Gisborne."

Gisborne was silent for a moment before he stared at her with hooded eyes, "So does that mean I shouldn't trust you, Hadiya?"

She smiled widely, allowing the smile to reach her eyes. "Good, you're learning fast again." Turning a bit, she walked away from Gisborne and fiddled with one of her knives. "You shouldn't trust me. Consorting with an assassin is pretty much signing your own death warrant. But I will tell you the reason why I am here. I could have sent one of my neophyte apprentices for this job, but we," she put the knife away and lifted up a part of her left sleeve, exposing her wrist and showed it to Gisborne.

His reaction was immediate as he flinched a bit at the sight of the wolf's head tattoo she wore.

"We have reason to believe that a Piece of Eden is here, in Nottingham, brought in by Robin Hood himself when he returned from the Holy Land," she covered the tattoo back up.

"My," Gisborne looked away for a second, staring at his own arm before rolling the sleeve up slightly, "my own was burned away by acid…"

"Yet you are still one of us, are you not?"

"I am…" he whispered, rolling his sleeve down. Hadiya could see that he still had a question on the tip of his tongue and so waited patiently for him to gather the courage to speak his mind. She had to admit; he was getting too soft and knew that she would have to fix that immediately. Killing Lady Marian would be a start, but she knew that the girl would be a useful leverage when they finally captured Robin Hood so she couldn't kill her yet.

"What about the Sheriff?"

"Vaysey?" she laughed lightly, "we are considering him as an agent of the Templars. He does have qualities we can use…and consider this a test for him…and for you as well."

"Test?"

"You'll see," she let a crooked smile appear on her face even though she knew Gisborne couldn't see it.

Just then the doors opened and the Sheriff waltzed in, holding a small little bottle containing a crystal clear liquid. Hadiya nodded, pleased that the Sheriff was able to get the liquid she requested in such a timely fashion.

"Here you go, milady," he handed her the bottle before clasping his hands and smiling, "now anything else?"

"I need about two units of your men to do something for me. You can personally join in if you wish," she gave him an appraising look.

"I prefer to stay out of battles," he gave her a sardonic look, "tooth and all."

"Understandable," so far Vaysey was proving his worth so she gave him the benefit of doubt.

"Gisborne can go in my stead," Vaysey said, "I'm sure being your former student and all…"

"I'm sure it will be very interesting to see how he has fared after a year away from my tutelage," she gave Gisborne a look to which he returned just as a darkly and a hint of a predatory smile formed at the corners of her lips. Ah! There was that spark that she was looking for…the darkness that he had occasionally shown, but had hidden away…

OUTLAWS' CAMP

Night had already fallen when Marian walked into their camp, guided by Much who had gone to fetch her after she returned from her trip to Nottingham Castle earlier that day. Robin watched as the others scrambled to finish their meals or at least make themselves look a bit more presentable and had to smile. Even though none of his men would admit it, they respected Marian a lot and somehow looked like guilty boys when a mother came by.

"Hungry?" he asked, having long finished his own dinner and walked over to her.

"No thank you, I ate," she replied hesitantly.

He frowned slightly, wondering what was bothering her. "What's wrong?"

"There is a Saracen prisoner, but Guy claims that it's an assassin," Marian shook her head; "it doesn't make sense."

"Assassin?" Allan spoke up, looking concerned, "like those Al-whatever-fazeem-"

"Al'fajani," Djaq interrupted.

"Yeah, those guys," Allan continued, "I mean, don't they just come and kill royalty?"

Ever since his attempted chat with Allan, the man seemed to realize that he was bringing everyone's mood down and had made a great effort to be more like his old self. Robin was glad that Allan was in better spirits and at least realized he was being a giant pain for the past few weeks.

"Smells like a trap," Much frowned.

"Are you sure there aren't any other Saracens there?" Will asked Marian and she shook her head.

"If there were any, the Sheriff and Sir Guy didn't indicate it at all," she replied.

"What about height, male or female?" Much asked, "I mean…if it is true…"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't tell," she shook her head.

"Robin, I don't like this…Saracen assassins usually have one purpose and they are very well trained not to get caught," Djaq spoke up, bringing Robin's gaze to her.

He understood what she was saying…having encountered many assassins during his time in the Holy Land. There were a few that had helped him during his time there, but more than one had attempted to kill the King when they had thought he wasn't looking. Almost all of the assassins he knew were dead, having taken their own life or killed by him. Djaq was right; the assassin at the castle was probably a trap of sorts. But even so, he couldn't discount the fact that there was the possibility of two wagons of slaves headed to Nottingham before going to Birmingham.

"So it's a trap," Little John said gruffly, not looking happy at the prospect.

Robin made his decision and looked up at the others, "Trap or not, we go in to rescue the prisoner. We still can't discount the fact that there are two wagons full of slaves coming through here on their way to Birmingham. If our assassin is part of the trap, then we tie him neatly back up and deliver him to the Sheriff with our compliments."

"Don't mean to be funny, but that's a dangerous game you're playing Robin," Allan looked a bit worried.

He shrugged, knowing that Allan's concerns were valid, but freeing the slaves was his priority right now. "I have a plan," he said confidently, and smiled as the rest of the gang nodded their agreement to freeing the Saracen assassin. He hoped their confidence would last a while because the plan that was quickly forming in his head required a unique…perspective…

Author's Notes:

I guess I started an alternate universe post season 1 of my own with this story. I had planned to write two other stories before The Assassin's Gift, one dealing with the events of Allan's betrayal/near-betrayal of Robin and the other dealing with Marian and the events of Nettlestone. They will be written, but probably in the near future.

As of this posting I haven't seen season 2 of Robin Hood (states won't get it until late April), but I did read that Allan does betray the gang and actually I had the events of the tournament and Allan's betrayal written out right after I finished my other Robin Hood story, Well Met Steel back last summer. So I should have part 2 written up soon hopefully! Enjoy!

As of March 17, 2008 here is the order of stories in my AU Season 2:

Solace of Silence – currently being written

Well Met Steel – completed

Tournament – currently being written

Quarantine – in outline stages

The Assassin's Gift – currently being written

Witch Hazel – in outline stages

The Return of King Richard Trilogy – in outline stages