Chapter One

My work lies before me. Two civilians, ten guards, everybody else pretending that they see nothing.

One knife finds a new sheath; one guard sports a broken neck. Two down, eight to go. Keep the civilians alive.

…

Altair slipped out of the small cluster of scholars when he was sure that the guards were out of sight. Infiltrating cities during war-time was just too easy.

He was still angry, and he had every right to be. This test was a waste of time. He has always worked best alone before, and it is not as though he is truly a newly-ranked ranked assassin. Now he would have to put up with the jeering taunts of the Rafiq and other assassins, alike. These men he was sent to kill hardly seemed worth his time (except de Sable; he'd be getting a new hole to breathe through, soon enough). It is not like he has other options, though.

After all, what the Master says is law.

Altair sighed and made his way up to the roof of a nearby building, once he was sure that nobody was looking. The faster he made it to the bureau, the faster he could end this nonsense.

The guards didn't breach the rooftops here, making Altair's job easier. He sprinted above the vast city-scape, only to be interrupted by the occasional jump. He was almost at the bureau, and then…

"Infidel, you are filth!"

Altair stopped almost instantly, drawing his sword, looking for the source of the voice. Nobody could have known that he was up here…and the guards weren't smart enough to look up. So, then who…

Talk again…where are you, rat? He silently dared.

"You think you can beat me?"

The voices were coming from the streets below…and it did not sound any closer than the first time. This meant that something was happening, and that it did not involve him.

Altair slowly made his way to the edge of the building he was standing on. As he got closer, he could hear the ring of steel on steel. There were eight guards and two corpses, as well as two civilians trying to hide in a corner. Fighting off the guards was a hooded figure. He seemed to know what he was doing. Then why did Altair feel inclined to help this stranger?

Worry about your target. The sooner you can end this, the sooner you can regain your standing, one side of him said.

Why not help this man? Perhaps you will be able to wrestle a favor out of him, another side said.

After a few moments of wrestling with himself, Altair took a deep breath, having a deep feeling of regret already as he dove onto one of the remaining guards.

With two people, the guards quickly fell. The cloaked stranger was surprisingly quiet. He simply nodded at the civilians' praise, all but ignoring Altair. When the civilians moved on, the stranger simply started walking in the opposite direction. Under normal circumstances, Altair would simply continue on to his destination, but for some reason, it irked him that the stranger moved on without so much as a thank you.

"Wait a moment, I'd speak with you!" Altair called.

The stranger simply started running at his words. "So," he muttered, "if it is a chase you want, then it is a chase you will get." He started running after his quarry.

The cloaked man took a sharp left turn, followed by scurrying up the nearest rooftop he could find. Altair followed him every step of the way. You're not getting away, not yet, Altair thought.

They sprinted across the rooftops, only to be interrupted by the occasional gap that both of them could easily jump. This man's stamina is nearly as good as any assassins', Altair noticed. He instinctively knew that he wasn't going to tire out his prey anytime soon.

The cloaked man started climbing a tall spire. He's cornering himself. Good, Altair smiled to himself.

When they both finally reached the top, the other man seemed to have realized his mistake…a little too late. Altair stopped a few feet shy of the other man, drawing his sword to prove his point. "Who are you? I demand to know!" Altair pressed, pressing his blade enough into his prey's chest to make his intentions clear. He wasn't expecting to slight give under the cloak that came of it, but he didn't question it.

Instead of answering, the stranger simply said, with a slight accent, "Safety and peace, Altair Ibn La'Ahad!" After that, the stranger back flipped off of the spire…probably into the haystack below.

That voice was much too high to be that of a man…

And the slight give of the stranger's flesh under his blade was not what he thought it was, was it?

The chase was over…but he had a feeling that he would see this strange warrior woman again.

…

The woman made sure that her pursuer wasn't following her before she headed back to her base. There would be a time and a place for a meeting, and now was not it.

After three years…she had all but given up hope…

Now, he has literally dropped into her life. How fortunate for her. It was about time…she needed help, and she wasn't willing to ask the others.

She turned down an alleyway and knocked on the second door on the left.

The door opened a crack, and a voice came from beyond. "What is the first step to freedom?" it whispered.

"Peace," she replied. The door opened wider, allowing her admission.

"Any news, Raven?" the man guarding the door asked.

"I've tracked her down…and found help…even if he doesn't realize it yet," she replied.

"Why not let one of us help you? This is the work that you train us for," he insisted.

"Absolutely not. She got taken due to my negligence. I won't risk any of your lives for my mistake," she said coolly.

"So you rely on mercenaries? You are willing to risk another's life outside of—

She smacked him. Hard. The sound echoed in the near silent hideout. "I know that you miss her. I know that you're worried. I know that you want to help. But if I bring in a big party, which I would need to pull this plan off with any of you, they'll kill all of the civilians they have. This isn't meant to be vengeance. This entire operation is about keeping innocents safe in the place of careless or abusive guards. The man I've found should be able to handle it. Now get ahold of yourself," she concluded.

"As you wish," he muttered, holding his red cheek.

She pushed past him, heading to the hideout's shared bunk rooms. She stripped out of her clothing and washed out the blood, changing into something simpler. Once her sword was sharpened to a fine point, she headed to bed.

Tomorrow would be the time for action.

…

A/n: Here we go, spiraling into the madness that is the Assassin's Creed fandom. Damn you, MoS…

Anyways, so I see all kinds of stories revolving around Altair that focus on the same point; either "Ooh, look, female assassin!" or "We were sucked into Assassin's Creed/we were sent to the past" fics. It's alright to have a basis; that happens in every fandom. But few of them manage pull off originality. So…I'm kind of sort of taking both of those and putting my own spin on it (but it's VERY lose). This will probably be a very long series…

So, thanks to Sassy Witty, my bestie and sort-of beta reader who caught several mistakes in this (because I doubt anyone wants to read about 'shark left turns' :P) Read her stuff. On here and FictionPress. She's awesome.

So, I will end this off here. Drop a comment, I love to hear what people have to say. Hopefully I'll update soon (no promises; everyone knows that I'm a terrible procrastinator, in a true da Vinci style :P)

Fun Fact: Altair, due to his time-frame of existence, anticipates all warriors of any kind to be men. Women did not fight back then, as women's rights are kind of a new concept. This is proven as fact when Altair first encounters Maria.