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Mercy in White	By : digitalcoma Category: +A through F > Assassin's Creed Views: 3153 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Sad, but true - I do not own any part of the game "Assassin's Creed" or any of its characters. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
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Mercy
in White
Chapter 3 -----�Ghosts of the past�-----
"What the..."
As she was rather roughly dragged over the railing the least she
expected to see was the familiar hidden blade before her face, and a yet even
more familiar glare from behind a shadow of the white hood.
"So..."- the assassin snapped - "we meet again,
stranger"
She cast a worried glance at the sky, slowly colouring
from navy blue to lavender, and winced. Surely, hiding in the city at daylight
was more difficult even without the growing pain in her reopened, still bleeding
wound. Hiding in plain sight was his prerogative...
Speaking of him...
The awakening sunlight stressed those sharp, yet fine,
utterly masculine features, though failing to reach beyond the shadow of the
deeply pulled hood, leaving the eyes invisible. But a certain familiar feeling
told her everything about the coldness and intensity of that gaze behind the
menacing blade.
She met the assassin's icy cold glare with her own,
snapping back: "What do you want from me?"
The man was still, like a statue of shining white marble,
his lips being the only parts alive...
"Information. You seem much more skilful for a
common street thief or a murderer. Who the hell are you?"
She nearly laughed at his face, hearing those casual words.
"Oh, dear, you don't even
have a slightest idea..."
But this man was not the right kind to make fun of. All
his essence was radiating danger, and cold-blooded violence, and blood... He
was wearing beaming white, and the hilt of his sword in decorated scabbard was
golden... He was an assassin of the highest rank, a person that should �be taken into consideration...
She tried to find his eyes in the deep shadow, but, of
course, failed. It was only early dawn, there was still enough darkness left in
the world to conceal what was intended to be concealed...
"I can't tell you much" - she finally said,
and, God knew, it was the truth.
She couldn't quite see, but, she'd bet, he raised an
eyebrow at that.
"Hmm?" - With that soft inquiring syllable the
blade moved a little closer - "I'm sure, you have some interesting facts
that you could share... Such as your choice of the city view points, or your
perfect leap of faith, or your fighting skills..." - he� tilted his head - "Or maybe your
connection to the assassination of Muhammed Amir... You see, you don't have
much choice, really..."
She sighed. If he only knew, that she wasn't a foe... And
had never been...
"I can't tell you my name. In fact I can't tell you
anything except for that I'm not your enemy. I mean no harm for your
brotherhood..."
The glare became almost physical, as if she could sense that cold calculating touch upon
her skin.
She heard a quiet growl, that reminded her of a huge
predator, hidden, unseen, but no less dangerous, and realized, that it was him... He was getting impatient... And
she couldn't afford herself another fight. Not with the master assassin. Not
with one of the most skilful killers in the Holy Land,
even if she could rival him as equal whatever weapon he chose... Not with blood
running down from the open wound, and with the necessity to get home before
daytime...
The assassin shifted his weight and moved his blade
against her neck.
"You tell me, how do you know so much about the
brotherhood, or you die. Right now. You don't have any other options" - he
hissed, teeth gritted, hidden eyes piercing her.
She tried to look him in the eyes, but failed again.
Looking into the deep shadow under the beak of the hood, she reminded herself,
that he was not an enemy...
The noise on the nearby street grew louder. The guards or
Saracen soldiers were on their way to see what had happened to their less
fortunate comrades.
"They'll be here soon. Is taking an unnecessary
fight a part of your Creed now?" - she asked and noted his hesitation with
a hint of satisfaction. Whatever his intentions regarding her were, he was
clever enough to understand, that holding her on that balcony meant being
detected for himself as well.
After a brief moment of hesitation the assassin motioned
at the roof and moved his blade aside, hissing: "Up", then cast a
meaningful look at her and added: "And don't you dare run away. I'm not
finished with you yet"
She sighed and scaled up the stone wall. No doubt she
wouldn't be able to run away from him easily. The pain slowly grew stronger,
and the sky was turning pale pink, reminding her of loosing last minutes of
safe way home.
There was no need to turn back to see him following, an
unpleasant itch between her shoulderblades assured her of that.
Looking around, she noticed a familiar silhouette of a
roof garden nearby. It was a short luck, but there were no other opportunities
to take a break.
"Who did this? Where are you, bastard? Show
yourself!" - she heard from below, right after she started moving towards
the shelter.
The assassin turned out to be rather smart in addition to
his perfect physique. He shot a quick nonchalant glance at the angry city
guards below and silently followed her, without a single unnecessary movement.
Nothing else mattered, only pulling aside the silk of the
curtains, slipping inside the pleasant cool darkness, collapsing on the floor,
back against the carved railing, and breathing out. Safe... Just for a few
minutes probably, but safe...
The rush was slowly fading away... She wasn't quite
enjoying how her mere night walk above the city streets turned into a pursue,
then into a fight, and, God knew, seemed like that was only the beginning...
Her deadly noiseless companion slipped inside, setting
himself comfortable on the cool stone floor, eyeing her suspiciously. The
rooftop outside the curtains was silent, meaning that the guards hadn't seen
anything that could hint them. That was good...
Hearing the familiar "clink", she wearily
raised her hand before he could move any further and stated: "Leave that
for those, who fear you. If you'd intended to kill me, you could've done that
already...",� then winced at the
suddenly intensive strike of throbbing pain in her side,� and added: "And if I'd wanted to risk my
life chasing each other down the roofs with you, believe me, it would've been
hard to miss..."
"Time's running out, along
with my blood..."
He froze for a moment, listening to the sounds of still
sleeping city, then,� apparently
satisfied with the result, fluently moved beside her, retracting back his
blade, though remaining tense as a bowstring, ready to attack...
"He is close... What if he is close enough to find
out?"- she thought with unease, looking at the white-clad figure, the
lower part of her face tickled by her own breath under the suddenly so
tight-fitting black silk... No, that wasn't fear, she had grown up enough for
not fearing men with swords, even if they were wearing white robes...
Just...
Never before had anyone discovered her true identity,
seen the face of the person in black, flying over rooftops... And she wished it
could remain like that... The game was dangerous, but saved her a lot of
trouble...
"I'd love to see your face
though, when you discover mine..."
Despite the pain, she smiled under the safety of black
silk.
"We were interrupted..."
His soft voice was so perfectly smooth and quiet... As if
designed to merge with the silence...
That was the kind of voice that held the concealed menace
whatever words had been spoken by those fine bow-shaped lips.
She finally gave up the idea of getting home before dawn
and, with an uneasy sigh, tried to get herself as much comfort as possible
before getting out to face the day shift of archers and soldiers. The sharp
throbbing in her left side gave place to a dull ache, thin rivulets of blood
were still soaking her robe, but that was ok. Nothing that she hadn't got
herself familiar with during her missions.
She looked at the assassin, sitting beside her with his
back against the pavilion's railing, patiently waiting for her reply... Looking
so nonchalant... And so self-confident�
�Oh, sure, you can look that
self-confident, when you have so much deadly power and skill on your side��
"Listen, I can't tell you much more than I've
already had. I'm not scared by either your blade or your outfit. If you're
curious enough to have followed me around the city..."- she stopped,
struck with a sudden thought -"... and, come to think of it, even watch me
diving from the tower, then I will surely disappoint you by taking all my
secrets to my grave, huh? So how exactly are you going to kill me if I don't
answer all your questions?"
She guessed that it had struck home, because he gasped
and� with a single blink he was beside her, his blade hard against her neck,
another hand tightly gripping her collar. First drop of blood oozed from a tiny
puncture and began its way down her neck, inside the folds of the black silk�
�If I have to kill you, then I�ll probably get rid of a
rather successful Templar spy, so I won�t have any remorse, be sure� � he
growled, his steady breath hot against her ear, tickling, sending an unexpected
electrical impulse down her spine�
That was dangerous�
And, for God�s sake, that was the most exciting event of
the past few weeks�
�God, he�s fast� Must be one of
the best of the brethren��
She slightly turned her face to meet his gaze, and in the
delusive first beams of sunlight saw, that she was being studied by the two
pools of dark brown honey, deep and hypnotizing, and filled with hot fury...
"Caught halfway home, in a
roof garden, bleeding, by a master assassin, who turned out to be so God damn
handsome, and can't even imagine that I could be a woman... Oh shit..."
She swallowed and tried to continue, drowning in those
honey brown eyes...
"I'm not your enemy. I've been an ally for the
brotherhood for a really long time..."
"An ally? Are you an informant?"
"Not only informant... I can do... various
tasks..."
She didn't know, where the feeling that she could trust
this man had come from... He had a highest rank among the brotherhood, judging
by his weaponry and uniform, and by his fluent movements. He was damn well
trained. He could not betray the Creed... And he didn't know, that she was a
woman. How many reasons to kill her he could have, then?
Besides, bits of truth worked better than a lie...
He seemed interested. The blade slowly retracted, he let
go of her collar and leaned back.
"Various? Such as?..." - and finished himself -
"... Killing?"
She shrugged. �Well, I can take the job sometimes� When
it�s too dirty for staining your beaming white reputation� Go on, ask��
His fine lips curved in a lopsidsed grin, making her
smile unconsciously in return.
�Muhammed Amir?�
She nodded meaningfully, catching his gaze
�But how�? We had not announced the white feather for
him! We lacked information��
She smirked.
�Muhammed Amir? He was a rare fucking bastard. You can
guess, not only the Hashshashin were interested in his death. Man, he did his
living by selling 10 year old boys into slavery, and, by gossips, his own house
was full of the poor little ones, molested and violently tortured� I could�ve
killed him by myself, but for the mission��
His eyes widened, and she felt the silent wall of tension
rising once more between them.
�Not only the Hashshashin? Are you saying that you kill
for someone else?�
Tilting her head, she smiled under the black mask, and
said mockingly:
�You know, it�s not polite to ask questions about one�s
job. I work for different people.�
And again she heard it, that quiet growl, that reminded
her of the danger, that was within this man, behind his hypnotizing brown eyes
and soft voice�
�Maybe, Templars pay you money as well?�
She raised her hand as a sign of peace, a plea for him to
calm down.
�No, I have never worked for the Templars. Every bit of
the information I get goes to the brotherhood, be sure. If you remember Conrad
Redding, de Sable�s right hand, for example� The scum was hiding like a rat
after Robert�s death, changing places every three days� Was damn hard to track
him down� Glad that the assassins took his useless life� If you can believe me,
of course�� she looked at him with a challenge in her eyes, satisfied with
the surprise on his face.
For a brief moment the cold grey eyes met the furious
glare of honey brown� and seemed to cool it down a little bit�
�How come you are trained some certain things that you
could see only in Masyaf?� � he changed the topic, giving up the pressure.
She shrugged again, holding back the bitter memories�
Guessing if it was right decision to tell him part of the truth�
�I have been training in Masyaf for some time� Many years
ago� �
And again she must�ve caught him by surprise. Sure� The
brotherhood had no way out� Either death on a mission, or death sentence for
the traitors� It was even harder than she thought� To recall everything�
�Then why�� and he stopped, fixing his eyes of liquid
gold on her face, examining, trying not to miss a slightest hint she might
give�
�Why am I not beside you, wearing the same white hood and
golden sword? Right?� � she asked bitterly, and, seeing his confusion, showed
him both her hands, unarmed, with all fingers present� - �I�m not a traitor, if
that�s what you�re thinking about. Never was.� � a sigh escaped her lips, then,
as she continued � �As you see, I didn�t get an initiation even��
He stared at her, disbelieving, confused�
�But� why?��
�I had some� issues� with Al Mualim� Had to leave� But
never lost contact completely� It�s a pity though, that he turned out to be��
She opened her mouth, but suddenly froze, as a haphazard
sunbeam lighted the face of the assassin, again attracting her attention to the
lower part of his face, the strong line of lower jaw, covered with light
stubble, the bow-shaped lips� and a thin scar, crossing them on the right side,
from the fine straight nose down to the chin�
There definitely couldn�t be another man with the same scar�
Gasping for air, she tentatively reached out her left
hand and traced that scar with her fingertips, taking him by surprise, stung by
the electricity that spread quickly over her hand to her upper body and ran
down her spine, leaving her breathless�
At that moment she didn�t care about the various blades
he could stab her with, for that one brief moment of breaking into his private
space, or even about the confusion this act might bring, because she still was
a God damn male for him�
�The� flying one�� � those long forgotten words ran
though her head, as the same sounds escaped her lips against her will�

------
A/N:
A cliffhanger, huh? (evil grin)
Honestly, I wanted to put a whole talk into one chapter,
but it grew larger, and larger, and finally I decided to leave you with this
for a while and not to torture you with waiting for another couple of weeks.
The story writes itself. She shouldn�t have said it out
loud, believe me! What is she going to do with that now? How is she supposed to
explain that? I don�t know for now� Seriously� %)
Hope you like it so far. Please leave a note, if you do :)
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Mercy in White