They’d mock her; the fact that she was a woman among the large crowd of men in the battling ring gave her that lowly title that every woman was referred to as: weak, defenseless, and completely hopeless in the sight of a battle. They believed that she was fit for cooking and cleaning the house like all the other little ladies, waiting at home for her “oh so beloved” husband who looked for nothing more than the junction between her legs.
She was different. She roamed the streets by herself, having no permanent home or some cheapskate of a husband to go to. And most importantly, those stereotypical traits they gave a woman…she had proved them wrong. Altair watched in interest at the scene below him. Landing another punch straight into another male’s face, [Name] watched as he flew back, his ribcage crashing onto the hard grounds of the streets as the others watched in surprise. She crossed her arms over her chest, her usual piercing look even scarier as she eyed the big mouth that lay at her feet alongside the others that dared to mock you.
“Get out of my sight and grow some before you come using that ugly, big mouth of yours to make yourself appear like a man you never were.” The man scrambled to their feet, running off at their mouth as they fled, leaving her to herself as she leaned against the closest wall, sighing long and loud. Her moment of relaxation was soon interrupted when a shadow of a hooded figure cast upon her. Her [e/c] orbs cracked open, annoyance evident in her features as she gazed at this mysterious man. “Am I some artifact at a museum that you just admire staring at?”
Altair closed his eyes. “So you noticed before I could come here, did you not?”
She rolled her eyes and mumbled something incoherent, turning her head away from this male as if he was none-existent. “So what have you got in store for me? Another one of those foolish women jokes? You haven’t the first idea what the pain of child birth feels like, so I suggest you be smart and think about--”
“You are right; I haven’t a clue.” For the first time, [Name] was speechless. She simply looked up at this man in silence, those simple words replaying over and over in her head. She was expecting the usual foul mouths, but this seemed almost…weird. He had no trouble keeping this silent atmosphere, but it began to irritate [Name]. With a scoff, she pushed herself up and began to walk away.
And for some reason, she had this urge to turn around and look back at the male, instantly snapping her head back to the front once she had noticed that he had done the same.
She’d never heard such a voice as his.
Altair had developed an interest in this woman, which was quite surprising, since he was so engrossed about his future goals that he barely lay an eye on anyone for the matter. The young assassin would spot her in different parts of the city’s alleyways, never in the same place, picking fights and beating the others to a pulp before she’d make them pay up. She barely ate–or maybe, she didn’t have enough to buy. She was out in the coldest of nights and the darkest of times.
She did not beg the others for a few change, nor did she even interact with anyone. She was all alone.
He had began to notice, however, that she’d always stare at a small locket around her neck, mumbling incoherent words and breaking down into many tears, kissing whatever it was on the inside. It was made of gold, more than enough to buy what she needed to survive. He watched from the rooftops, eyes narrowing in thought; why would she allow herself to suffer when she could easily get what she needed? Was she not married? It would be unreasonable to ask such a beauty if she had a husband, but he couldn’t spot a ring. Perhaps her brutal and aggressive nature kept her aura unattractive.
Since when had he thought so much about one individual?
“Again, huh?” He heard her voice rumble, her sleeping face growing wide awake as she tilted her head up towards the hooded male, eyes growing narrow once again as she hugged her knees to her chest. “What’s your deal?” Altair’s face remained still and serious like it always was, jumping down towards her side as she flinched ever so slightly, body shifting into one of a defensive style. Altair simply leaned against the wall, coolly crossing his arms over his chest. She watched him carefully; surprisingly, she did not feel the least bit annoyed. Perhaps she grew used to his eyes upon her. The silence caused her to sigh, leaning her head back on the hard brick wall. “Go home and make yourself warm before you get some sort of sickness. Believe me; I know what it’s like.”
“Being affected by it, or watching someone else suffer through it?” Those words caused [Name]’s eyes to widen, her jaw dropping in complete disbelief at Altair’s words, his eyes delving within hers as she stared at him. Her lips began to press together, eyes lowering towards her toes as her eyebrows stitched together. There was silence once again between the two as Altair waited for some sort of response. Instead, she let out a bitter laugh, pushing herself up and turning her back towards him. She turned her head towards the side, [h/c] bangs blocking her eyes from Altair’s view.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
She repeated his name underneath her breath, crossing her arms over her chest and proceeding forward. Just as Altair was about to turn away, she called out. “You’re not bad, Altair.” The assassin couldn’t help but let the smallest of smiles place itself upon his lips; it felt weird, since it had been so long since the sides of his mouth curved.
“Who…exactly are you?”
Altair simply lowered his head even further. “There is no need to worry; underneath this hood is just another ugly man.”
Days had passed by as [Name]’s encounters with Altair grew more and more frequent. Of course, she was still hesitant to get close to this mysterious man, still retorting his words and making her aggressive nature evident in her words. What had happened? One moment, she despised men more than hell itself, being irritated by the sight of a man meters away from her, though she yearned to see Altair’s face each and every single day. Of course, she kept those feelings locked up inside; he couldn’t be trusted just because she’d find a large basket of breads and cheeses at every alleyway she planned to go to, knowing very well that these “gifts” were no coincidence.
It was her very own lover that had allowed their son to die; his greedy nature causing him to run away unnoticed while she watched her baby boy suffer through a disease that he could not defeat. She’d lost her purpose of life at that very moment, as well as her trust in love. This was not love, though, perhaps a small trace of infatuation. For someone so anti-social, he was quite interactive, never missing a single day beside [Name]. Many mysteries were still to be revealed, but for now, all she wanted to do was look into his eyes, his strong, strong eyes.
Had she opened his eyes like the way he brought light into hers?
She’d never felt so defenseless before.
How could she have been so irresponsible for letting her feelings towards Altair affect her instincts towards the other men? These men were pigs, she knew that; why had she chosen to ignore them and walk away when they began to run off at their mouth again? Why had she not thrown a punch at them when they’d grabbed her from behind? Why did she feel so disappointed when all she could do was scream and struggle while they began to abuse her? She had no one to call out to; there was no one that she relied on, nor did she have anyone that relied on her. She thought she could handle everything by herself; how could she have been so stupid?
Had he changed her for the better, or for worse?
And just as they began to rip her clothing off, she could feel the movement of their hands stop; instead, she felt a warm liquid stain her dress, droplets of this metallic tasting liquid splashing upon her lips. As she began to open her eyes, her face froze at the sight of the men lying all around her, pools of blood staining the ground. Her shaky hands began to rise up towards her lips, eyes struggling to face the familiar hooded figure in front of her. Her gaze lay upon the long, blood-stained sword he held in his hands. Her lips quivered voice barely audible as she called out to him. “Y-You’re…an…assassin…?” Altair’s gaze remained serious and emotionless. He closed his eyes and pivoted on his heel, ready to leave when he was stopped in his tracks. Petite hands grabbed the cloth of his robes, the shaking instantly minimizing as he turned his head to stare into her eyes.
She looked much calmer than before. Letting go of all the chains that held her back from what she was hiding, she buried her face in his back.
“Take me with you.”
[Name] sat upon the soft plush bed, the feel of the texture almost heaven-like; it had been so long since she’d had a good place to sleep in. She remained completely silent as the young assassin tended to the wound on her knee, hood still covering the face she yearned to see. Why did she not feel frightened towards such a person? Assassin’s had no problem with eradicating those they were assigned to kill; he’d find no trouble in piercing her with that same knife he’d used to save her. Her eyes grew surprisingly soft as she stared at the tops of his white hood, hands restraining themselves from stroking his exposed cheek.
He was so different from the others; what did he have that made her feel this way? This warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest, like she couldn’t live without him? Like she’d disappear the minute he’d leave this room? At that moment right there, she let go of everything, allowing herself to give into these feelings that drove her crazy.
Altair stopped what he was doing the minute he felt her hands on the sides of his hoods, putting no effort into stopping her as she lowered his hood down. He tilted his head up, watching as her eyes marveled at every contour of his face. She immediately leaned down with no word, placing her lips upon his. Her lips moved against his so perfectly, and even though Altair allowed her to do all the work…
…this felt so right.
[Name] stood near the edge of the large building, eyes underneath her hood growing fearful at the distance to the ground. She gulped, hands shakily moving at her side as she maintained her calm nature. She pulled her hood closer to her face, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes as she prepared to jump off, proving her acceptance as another assassin.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt a hand grab her left hand, turning her eyes towards Altair, who eyed her with the same seriousness as always, nodding in reassurance that everything would be fine. He had faith in her, and she trusted his words like anything. His fingers grazed the burnt mark upon her ring finger, regretting the pain she had to go through, but more than happy that she could no longer escape his hold. She didn’t mind at all.
With a smile, she straightened her back just as he did. “One of us falls, the other one does too, huh?” Altair couldn’t help but smile. And together, they bent their knees and sprang up in the air, hands held tightly together as they dived down and down…
A leap of faith towards their destiny.