Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed, the only thing I take credit for is my OC's.

Author's Note: Ok so this is my first fan fiction that I've decided to post due to a friend's suggestion. Anyways this story came to me awhile ago, actually when Assassin's creed II came out and I've sort of put it aside but after Revelations I started working on it again. I have a pretty good idea of how this story will go but the entire plot hasn't presented itself to me yet which doesn't matter at this moment since it wouldn't really come up this early in the story anyway. I'm hoping the more I write the more ideas I'll get. This story follows my OC- Savra, which you'll find out a bit more by the end of this chapter.

Editing Note 11-1-2013: I've been slowly trying to comb through these chapters and fix any mistakes, grammar and the like, I see. So far I've (hopefully) cleaned up to chapter 15. All chapters after that are in need of editing and will be seen to when I have the time.

Taming a Huntress

Chapter I

The Beginning

On the outskirts of Jerusalem lay farmlands surrounding the city walls. Some were growing crops for merchants, others grew the crops as a means of having food on the table every night for their families. Some farmers were visibly wealthier than others, depending on what their reputation was in the city. A farm furthest away from the city resided on a small hill. The grounds leading up to it were blanketed in vibrant, green grapevine fields. The villa, a modest two-story covered in green vines growing along the walls, stood tall upon hilltop. It was a winery, Nasir the owner and his family, a wife and two children ran it. His vineyard was directly responsible for the wine that would be served for many of the rich nobles of Jerusalem. He was well-respected, always had his orders ready on time and always had the best wine to offer. He and his family did not stick out at the least.

His wife, Sasha, was something to be looked at twice. She was not Arabic like most who resided there, she was of European blood, auburn hair with eyes the color of water. Though she was not from these lands she spoke the language well, her parents were traveling merchants who were killed on the road by bandits when she was twelve. She ran and hid in the land when she was found days later by another merchant couple who were from Damascus on their way to Jerusalem where she grew up and eventually met Nasir. She was an Artist, influenced by the merchant couple who raised her since they were collectors of paintings and ceramics. She was not famous, but every now and then she would submit her paintings to a vendor who sold pieces in the city when they could use some extra money.

Their two children, Haydar, a twenty year old young man who helped Nasir around the farm, following in his father's footsteps. He held a calm exterior, like Nasir, hardly ever shouting or getting into fights, and respectful to those who earned it. He had the eyes of many women from the city on him for he was rugishly handsome; strong, skin bronzed by the sun as a result of working outside all day for most his life, dark waved hair from his father and the blue in his eyes from his mother. The younger of the two was their daughter Savra, only two years the junior of Haydar at eighteen, and out of the two she was the troublemaker.

Savra had a desire for adventure and spent most her time traveling the landscape around the city, never leaving the ever watchful eyes of Haydar or Nasir. She was a free spirit, more concerned with having fun and being comfortable. Most girls her age were concerned about getting a husband, or most girls her age already had one, as she would be reminded almost every day by her mother. She, on the other hand had no interest in attaining one, at least, not yet.

She had the features of her mother, but like her brother, she contained a slightly exotic appearance from having mixed blood for their parents were of different ethnicity. Red-auburn hair like her mother's but eyes that would fluctuate from grey-greens to silver-greys from her father's hazel, but unlike her father's, hers held defiance and mischief, a testament to her personality.

Savra grew up looking to her brother and father in admiration. But as she grew, she became jealous that her brother got more freedom than her, got to work outside sooner, got to ride the horses sooner, could travel into the city unaccompanied. She saw that being male meant better privileges. Nasir would spend his days when he was free sparing with Haydar, teaching him how to fight with hands and with swords, sometimes even throwing knives. She would sneak to watch them, studying since she was not allowed to participate. As Haydar got older the lessons would become more frequent and more serious, her father hardly ever felt the need to yell at his kids, but she would remember how much he pushed her brother to 'get it right or be killed'. She never understood why it was so important for her brother to learn these skills as he was only going to make wine, nor did she understand how it was her father even knew how to fight the way he did, from what she could tell he was very skilled. He was never in the army or the guard, but she didn't question it.

She had a special place in Nasir's heart, both of his children did, but Savra was different. She had spirit, from a very young age she had such a sense of adventure, hardly quick to scare, always going head first into everything. Her mother would try and teach her how to behave like good girl, teaching her how to cook, clean, sew, dress. But her efforts were in vain since the girl would end up running outside most of the time to follow her father. He would never admit it to his wife, but he enjoyed that she preferred him over her mother, and it is most likely because he never turned her away, that she became the way she did. Never wanting to stay inside, always going out to explore and come home with dirt-stained clothes and cheeks. Seeing how he could not sway her of her boyish tendencies it was easier to treat her like a son than a daughter.

He knew she had a high interest in being in the forests so he taught her to hunt, how to kill with a bow, and how to skin a catch with a dagger. As she got older she would beg him to teach her how to fight the way he taught her brother, but it was not right for a woman to fight and he had no interest in her learning. Haydar had to be taught as much as he could for what he was becoming, following in his father's footsteps indeed.

He would encourage the girl to spend time with her mother, to learn how to be a woman, but she would always grow irritated at the mention of it. The only thing she and her mother would bond over was art. Savra had a talent for it like Sasha, the only time they could be found together is if they were conversing over each other's paintings or Sasha mentoring Savra.

Sasha would cry to him over her worries for their daughter, claiming no man would ever want her because she was too rough. She cursed like her brother, she dressed like her brother. One thing she allowed her mother to teach her was how to sew, with that she would take her brother's clothing that he no longer fit into and tailor them to fit her more feminine physique. She wore this type of clothing for it was better suited for how she spent her days, leather breeches, boots, a button tunic, and stomach belt. Her mother almost regretted teaching her the skill.

Savra was spoiled by Nasir, he allowed her to do as she pleased because really, in his mind, he didn't see how it was so wrong to allow her to have such a playful spirit. If he forced her to marry like most father's do their daughters, she would lose it. The husband would most likely tame her, force her to have children, and stay in the house like the ever proper wife, or beat her until she became it. While that was okay for Sasha since that's what most women accepted, he could never see Savra in that role. He would endure Sasha's everlasting complaints to stick up for his daughter and keep her from being forced to do anything she didn't want. He may be hindering the girl, but he planned on making sure she was well cared for as she grew. He doubted she would ever need to work, he earned more than enough. It was when he was not around that he worried for her. In his line of work –his real line of work– lifespans tended to be shortened.

As the girl grew older he eventually gave into her demands to learn how to fight, the way he saw it was that it would give her an edge, it wouldn't be wrong to teach her how to defend herself. If she ever got herself into trouble while in the city, he would make sure she wouldn't be added to the list of helpless women that would fall prey to the corrupt guards. He wasn't surprised to see that she learned quickly, she was very much like her brother, and not long after the siblings would spar against each other under the watch of Nasir. While Haydar had strength, Savra had speed; she was swift and focused more on dodging and lighting strikes than actual hits. More than a few times Nasir would watch his children have faux fights, and he would see two people capable of the same occupation that he had, but he would remind himself that she would never be allowed, he would never allow that.

Nasir was an Assassin, he was part of the brotherhood. Ever since he was a young man like Haydar, just like his father, and his father's father. He was bred for it and his son would be no different. Haydar accepted it long ago, as he saw it, it was a way to have a different lifestyle than just running a winery, which was a cover up for Nasir's real job. Sure he owned the winery, but he didn't run it the way the city thought he did. His workers mostly ran it, and he would have put in a say now and then. But his real job came first, he would be gone a lot claiming it was business trips to advertise his wine stock and gain more customers. When really he was off on assignments, completing tasks for the brotherhood or traveling to Masyaf for meetings and giving reports. Now more than ever did Haydar accompany him. The only one unaware of his occupation was Savra seeing as she never needed to know. Sasha knew because he couldn't lie to his wife for that long before she figured something was not right. Haydar knew because he was becoming one himself. But Savra had no need, and the more people who knew the more dangerous it became for the secret to be revealed. So she thought her father was a modest farmer, and he was okay with that.

In the brotherhood Nasir was well-respected, their leader Al Mualim was one of his oldest comrades both of them were decedents from a long line of assassins. Though not as high ranked as a master assassin since he wanted to be with his family as he got older, he was regarded as such and Haydar would be responsible for continuing Nasir's line in time. Residing in Jerusalem instead of Masyaf, he knew the city and all the goings on well.

The vineyard was filled with Nasir's workers, the day had been slow and hard going. Tonight there was going to be a grand feast held within the city in honor of one of the important nobles finding a new bride. The wines had already been packed in the crates and were to be loaded into the wagon by Haydar. All that was left was to pick enough grapes that were to be eaten along with the diner. Sasha was inside with some of her lady friends conversing over what to wear for the festival, she had managed to get the family invited. Savra was in the stables grooming Zeta the family horse, getting her ready to be strapped to pull the wagon.

She hummed to herself as she ran the brush over the grey coat of the tranquil horse before her. Her even strokes cleared away any lingering dirt on the steed. She placed the brush on a shelf before walking over to a small basket and picking out a few leather strips. Approaching Zeta, she gave her a smile as she combed her fingers through the horse's mane.

"Shall we braid you too then?" Savra spoke gently as she begun twisting sections methodically. Zeta snorted quietly causing Savra to grin. "I'll take that as a yes."

Haydar came in and scoffed at her as he walked by to grab the bridle off the hook, she stopped her attentions on the horse to glare at him.

"What?" she snipped.

He started pulling Zeta away to take her outside, shushing the horse when she began to protest. "You were supposed to be done with her by the time I finished loading, she was supposed to be strapped already."

"Excuse me for making sure she's clean." She walked up to him and snatched the bridle. "Let me finish." He reached for it back and she skipped around the horse to hold it out of his grasp.

"By the time you finish, the feast will be over and Papa will have a bad name for not making the deliveries on time, all because of your incompetence."

She glared at him and he used her temporary irritation to lunge and grab hold of the bridle, but she didn't let go. The siblings tugged each end, Savra leaning her weight back to add to her strength, Haydar barley pulling, smirked at his sister and let go. Savra yelped as she fell back into Zeta's stall, inches away from manure. He walked to lean against the doorway, grinning proudly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

She lay there and turned to look at the manure that was too close to her face for her likings, she growled as she got up, glaring daggers at her brother and sneered. "You will pay." Before he had a chance to react, she tackled him and they fell into the hallway of the stables, Zeta spooked by the commotion, ran outside. They tumbled, each fighting for dominance. Haydar struggled to pin her hands behind her, she was always too quick for him, and she slipped out of his grasp and kneed him in the groin. He didn't cry out, but she could see the pain he held in on his face as his breathing became labored while he tried to recuperate. She rolled away from him and attempted to hop up, only to be snatched by her ankle and pulled back down hard. He moved again to restrain her hands and she struggled wildly. Mindful of her legs, he managed to pin her hands behind her with one of his, using his other to press firm on her back to keep her down.

"Let go!" she yelled as she tried to free herself.

"Say it," he replied ever so calm. She struggled again but his grip tightened.

"I said let go," she ground out.

"Yes, you did, but I'm afraid those aren't the words I'm looking for," he replied in an amused tone. "Come on Savra, let me hear it."


"That's too bad, looks like I'm going to have to tie you down like this. Then you will fall behind on your chores and Papa will have a late delivery."

"You wouldn't dare!" She felt him shift his other hand, and soon felt a rope material being tied around her wrists.

"Wouldn't I?" He chuckled.

"Get off of me now."

"Not until you say it sister."

She groaned and mumbled incoherently.

"Hmm? I can't hear you," he teased.

"I said you the most handsome man in all of Jerusalem!"


"And nothing now let me go."

She felt the weight lift off of her and his boots came into view. She looked up at him from her prone position.

"Say all of it or I leave you here."

She growled. "And your skills are godlike, I'm lucky to have such a brother"

He smirked and kneeled down. "Thank you for your kind words, they are too much." He flicked her forehead and stood again, instead of making his way to untie her he walked towards the exit.

Her eyes widened. "What are you doing untie me!" she called to him in a panic. He turned to her, threw his head back, and laughed fully as he walked outside.

"Haydar come back! ...HAYDAR!"

She whined in frustration and started twisting and turning in attempt to free herself, but the rope was too tight. She flipped onto her back and used her heels to push her near the closest wall to use it to stand up. It was harder then she thought, the ground was digging into her wrists each push. 'I feel like a caterpillar' she thought as she continued her way to the wall.

Lowered voices could be heard just outside of the stables but she paid no attention to them, she was too focused on the issue at hand. The voices became louder as she made one final scoot towards to the wall.

"Savra!" a sharp voice sounded from the entrance, she tilted her head backwards from her prone position. and in her upside-down view was her father with shock written on his face and another man she didn't recognize, just staring at her...

"Papa..." She grinned uneasily.

"What–are–you–doing?" he asked with irritation seeping from his voice.

"Um, cleaning the floor?" she replied, hesitant. The man next to him looked amused while her father grew more frustrated if not embarrassed.

"With your back? Get up now, I told you to help your brother load the supplies," he barked as he strained to keep his anger down.



She made no effort to move, seeing as how she couldn't actually get up. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

"Savra..." Nasir warned, his patience dwindling.

"I can't," Savra murmured quietly.

"Just get up."

"I said I can't!" she raised her voice, he walked over to her and knelt down.

"What are you talking about?" Nasir grabbed her shoulder and pushed her into a seated position, giving him the view of her tied, restrained wrists."That boy," He gritted out to himself as he freed her hands.

"Don't worry, Papa, I plan to make him pay for his misdeeds shortly," Savra replied jovially as she hopped up and began brushing off her clothes before making her way to leave. He snatched her arm to stop her and when she looked back to him questioningly she saw he had his other hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Stop this. Of all days I do not need you two doing this to me. What I need is for everything to run smoothly, I have too much to worry about today and I don't need your inability to take anything seriously to add to it," he told her, weariness layering his voice.

Her eyes widened in offense. "My inability? But he's the one—"

"Enough!" he cut her off. "Enough..." He looked over to the man still at the entrance of the stables, giving him an apologetic look. "Malik, I ask that you excuse my children's behavior."

Malik gave a chuckle. "It's quite alright, Nasir, my brother and I were no different at times." Nasir's look turned solemn at that statement but Savra didn't understand why. Nasir cleared his throat and pushed Savra towards the entrance where Malik stood.

"I don't believe you've met my daughter." He gestured towards her. "Savra, this is Malik, he is a cheese maker and has come to pair up the wine for the feast."

The younger man wore a dark blue tunic, brown boots, and tanned trousers. He had the same build as her brother and his face, which she noted, sported handsome features, but she wasn't about to tell him that. 'Doesn't appear to be a cheese maker to me,' she thought, her bright, hazel eyes wandering over him curiously.

She offered her hand to shake but froze when she noticed for the first time that his left sleeve was empty. 'He has no arm.' Savra looked up to him haltingly. He only smiled to her gently and offered his remaining hand which she shook with some hesitance.

"It is nice to meet you, Nasir has spoken of you quite a lot. You are an artist, are you not?" he asked calmly. She nodded numbly, not fully absorbing what he was saying to her as she strained to keep her eyes on his face, and not on his glaringly obvious missing limb.

"Yes," Nasir spoke for her with some pride, spine straightening. "She takes after her moth—"

"How do you create cheese with one arm?" Savra blurted. Nasir's head shot to her direction and her hand slapped over her mouth. 'Did I just speak that aloud?' Malik's eyes widened at her outburst.

"Savra!" Nasir hissed.

"I–I...u–um...oops?" Her cheeks flushed with heat, and a nervous smile broke free from her lips. Her father could not look more embarrassed, but to their surprise, Malik started laughing.

"Please, she tends to speak her mind without thinking of how her words could offend others," Nasir apologized with a shake of his head.

"Do not worry about it, I'd rather have someone address it then just stare and pretend that I'm not really missing a limb," Malik replied, still chuckling. Nasir only shook his head again.

"And to your question, Savra, the answer is very easily." He winked.

She gave him an amused smile as she straightened with interest. "How did you lose your arm anyway?"

"In a tragic cheese crafting accident," Malik replied with jest.

Her smile widened. "I hope the cheese made it out okay?" Savra asked with mock concern.

"It did, it only cost me an arm, and thankfully I got to keep my leg."

She laughed before looking over to Nasir. "Why is it I have never seen this cheese maker before, Papa?"

"Malik works for a private producer, it is not widely known." She nodded her understanding. "Well enough of this, you have work to do and I suggest you get back to it." He looked to her sternly.

She sighed. "Alright." She made to leave but paused in her step and looked to Malik "It was nice meeting you."

He gave a small bow. "You as well."

She thought for a few seconds. "Will I... perhaps see you again?" Savra inquired with some caution, her hands wrung in front of her in a nervous habbit. She saw her father tense slightly out of the corner of her eye.

Malik only looked mildly surprised as he blinked. He looked over to Nasir, mouth open, and words caught in his throat as though unsure of what he should say. He glanced back to her curious expression. "Perhaps," he replied slowly.

Savra smiled a pleased smile at his answer, then gave a polite nod and a small wave before she departed.

Nasir sighed after she left and glanced at Malik, who was watching her intently as she made her way to find her brother.

"Do not waste your time," he said quietly. Malik looked over to him, confused. Nasir only shook his head and continued, "She has no interest in taking a husband at this time."

"I have no interest in taking a wife at this time," Malik replied back with a small smirk playing in his eyes.

Nasir's gaze locked on Malik's, reading his face, not liking what he saw. "Don't." Malik raised an eyebrow in question and Nasir gave him a warning look. "Do not pursue her, Malik, I don't need her with someone like you."

Malik frowned, Nasir's words were bordering offensive and they took him by surprise. Nasir was not a man to put others down easily, especially comrades. "...Someone like me?"

Nasir shook his head, explaining in a more softer tone, "I don't need her more involved with the brotherhood then she already is."

The younger assassin scoffed, his eyes finding the figure of the retreating girl making her way through the dusty vineyard paths. She was as the others described, the ones who'd had to opportunity to visit Nasir's farm and happen to catch a glimpse of the girl. Odd in a way. When one looked at her brother, Haydar, they saw Nasir's in him, by appearance with some variation, and even how the boy acted. Calm, even-mannered, polite, and genuinely kind.

But the girl... she had Nasir's eyes, almost an exact copy, though her eyes held a youthfulness, a slyness, a trickery that Nasir did not possess. That was as far as Nasir's looks went on the girl. She held her mother's looks mostly, the softer tones of a woman. Arched, auburn brows over perceptive, grey-green eyes, and lips that seemed fixed to the side, always ready to form the crooked smile she smiled.

She didn't smile a teeth bearing grin, or a demure little simper. She smiled with her eyes, that were bright against the dark line of her lashes, twinkling with mirth, and her lips would curve up, quirk, and pull to the side. Nasir smiled exactly that way as well. Malik found that slightly amusing, seeing his older comrade's traits pop up in the odd girl like that. She was not bad to look at, he mused. If she took away the dirt smudges on her skin, let her auburn hair flow out of the messy braid and styled more appealingly. And if she wore some proper clothes. Not the faded bodice-type top and worn leathers for leggings. Her boots as well, the tanned leather slouching and cracking. The girl hid behind all of that, and it was a shame.

"I hardly think my time with her would be enough for her to find out," Malik finally said, then internally cringed at how that came out. He had not meant to imply...

Nasir tensed up immediately, and shot Malik a hard glare. "She is pure, and is not the type to be used for pleasure. If that is what you crave, there is a city full of whores behind you."

"I didn't mean it that way my friend." He sighed. "A lovely face though, in an odd way. I'm not sure I'd have the strength of will to turn her away if she came to me."

With that Nasir gave a sigh of his own. "Well I only hope you would for her sake, she is ignorant to the brotherhood and I wish to keep it that way." He paused after a thought, giving a small chuckle. "I cannot tell you the amount of men she has turned away, some who I'd consider proper suitors for her. She doesn't even give them a second glance before she declines them. Only to be taken by a one-armed assassin in a matter of minutes."

Malik grinned. "One armed cheese crafter, Nasir, there is a difference." The two laughed as they made their way out of the stables to discuss the reason why Malik was really there.

Authors Note: This story may or may not follow the actual story line. Might be slightly AU, haven't decided yet. Anyways let me know what you think, what you liked and didn't like for that matter. I honestly hoped it piqued someone's interest, the beginning is slow and the next few chapters will probably follow the same day till this feast I have planned then something shall occur that sets the story into pace, Altair will probably make his first appearance then as well. Thanks for Reading!