Assassin's Creed X Reader One-shots

You're my princess (Altaïr x Reader)

This was requested by MakyaAssassin

Again, I tried something a little different. Hope you enjoy~

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This is a tale unlike any other.

This is a tale that will be passed down from generation to generation.

This is a tale which will be whispered amongst the gods themselves.

No.

No, this is more than just a tale.

This is the creation of history!

Have I captured your attention yet?

Good.

Because you're going to want to hear this.

Our story begins in the unkempt land of Iaprad.

What's so special about this particular land, you ask?

Well...nothing, actually. The land is impressively dull – a loaf of mouldy bread has far more to offer in way of appeal.

But nevertheless, despite it's uninspiring appearance, this vapid land is home to the greatest knight the Kingdoms of Olde had ever known; they were not born blessed with bulging muscles worthy of admiration or beautifully thick locks which stay fabulous in the toughest of conditions. They are not strong. Or wise. Or even very skilled. No. They are none of these things. But what they lacked in physical appearance, they make up for in spirit.

They are a valiant and benevolent warrior whose steely determination was known to cause men twice their size to steer clear of their path.

And their name was (Y/N).

Now that we're all up to speed, how about we continue on with our heroes tale?

Good. Ahem, now, where was I...? Oh, that's right, the land of Iaprad.

This is where you, O mighty warrior, have chosen to leave your mark. After today, your name shall be sung across the lands and tales will forever be told of your success. What's that? What success? My dear knight, don't you know? It's your story!

Oh, very well.

Today is the day you shall slay the formidable dragon residing in the Eastern mountain.

Huh? You don't want to slay the dragon? But you must! Why? Because it kidnapped the princess, and brave knights are supposed to rescue the damsel in distr—

Oh...you'd rather save the dragon than the princess...

Well that's all well and good, but that's not how this story is going to go. Sorry.

Hey, don't you...

Sigh.

Great. Just great. Why does everyone always end up crying whenever I narrate? You know what? That's fine. Go find someone else to tell you a story because I am done! Finished! Finito! Fini! Dasvidania, losers!

Oh, dear. My deepest apologies, lovely readers. I had no idea the new narrator was going to breakdown like that (it's impossible to find good help these days!)

How about I tell you another story? I think you'll enjoy mine a lot more.

You'd like to hear it?

Great!

Then let us begin.

Our story takes place amidst a savage battle between a very brave knight and terrifying dragon...

“Vile creature!”

Your anguished cry rings out, loud and true, across the battlefield.

However, the dragon cared not for your words, seeing only a threat that needed to be eliminated. The ferocious beast roared, a sound piercing enough to make all those that hear it crumble in fear. But you would not crumble. Not when so many lives were depending on you to save them. Not when you were so close to freeing the beloved princess from the dragon's evil clutches.

Blood trickled through the gaps in between your fingers as you clutched at the wound on your side, but you had far more important things to focus on; the princess was grasping the metal bars of their prison, staring upon you with anger.

Wait. Anger? That doesn't seem right. Had you been misinformed? Did the princess not want to be rescued?

“You're supposed to look scared!”

You lift the visor of your helmet in order to send a nasty glare in the direction of the princess, but that only serves in causing them to scowl even more.

“And you said I only had to do this for a few minutes!”

They argued, lower lip jutting out into an adorable pout, chubby and reddened cheeks puffing out – as always when they were having a sulk.

You huffed, crossing your arms in a slight tantrum of your own. “Nu-uh! I said you had to do it until AFTER I defeat the dragon! And have I defeated the dragon yet? No, ‘cause you're being a poo and annoying me!”

“I'm not a poo! And I'm not a princess neither!”

“Yes you are!”

“No I'm not!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

You continue to scream at one another, pitch increasing until reaching an inaudible frequency, causing a dog in the distance to start howling.

The only force strong enough to put an end to this battle was the interference of the young knight's mother. “Hey now, what's all the screaming about, you two?”

The mystical land of Iaprad and all its inhabitants evaporate, revealing the world for what it truly was: a poverty stricken little town known as Masyaf, where a child's only means of escape was with the use of their imagination. 

The wooden sword falls to the dirt as you're lifted into the comfort of your mother's arms. “We were playing dragons, Umm, and I was trying to slay the dragon-” The ‘dragon’ yelped and cowered before dashing off with its tail between its legs, “-but then Altaïr kept annoying me!”

Altaïr clambered from the box which acted as a temporary prison and shuffled forward, tripping over the tablecloth tied around his body. “I told you I didn't want to be the princess! I don't see why I couldn't be the knight!”

“Because you’re the pretty one,” you explain for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

His brows come together in a frown and he huffs, bringing a closed fist to his puffed out chest. “I'm a man, and men aren't pretty. They're tough!”

“But you're tough and pretty.” You try to reason with him, but like the stubborn six year old he was, he turned his head away in a sulk.

Your mother laughs softly and places a light kiss upon your cheek before setting you back down. “No more yelling, okay? Play nice.” She ruffled yours and Altaïr's hair before disappearing inside.

You and Altaïr remain stubbornly turned away from one another. You didn't want to have anything to do with that doody-head. Why couldn't he just play the game your way for once? It wasn't a big ask, was it? Your eyes travel over to find Altaïr struggling out of the tablecloth and hurling it to the ground, giving it an angry stomp.

Altaïr grumbled incoherently underneath his breath as he kicked the tablecloth aside. Why did you have to be so annoying? You were always trying to dress him up as a girl and force to play these stupid games! Why can't you just—

His head lifts upon hearing your quiet sniffles and he risks a glance in your direction, eyes growing large when seeing tears drip down your dust-covered cheeks. Did...did he do that? He never wanted to make you cry.

“(Y/N)?”

You swipe at your eyes with one arm and turn away from him when he gets close. “I don't wanna talk to you.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, scratching the back of his neck. “Did I make you cry?”

“I'm not crying.” You mumble.

“...You're hurt.” He kneels in front of you and lightly pokes the graze on your knee, making you wince.

You attempt to hide it with the hem of your dress, shuffling backwards a bit on your rump. “It's nothing.”

But he ignores the fact that you try and push him away and crawls forward, golden orbs bright with concern. “I can fix it...” He whispers, and you watch, with wide, tear-filled eyes as his lips leave a tiny kiss upon your injury.

“Altaïr...?”

An adorable smile is offered once he raises his head. “There. Kisses make everything better.”

It was true. They really do make everything better, and it's the best treatment your mother gives you whenever something rotten happens.

He proceeds to clean your face with the abandoned tablecloth. “I'm sorry for making you cry.”

“It's alright,” you say with a soft voice, hands absentmindedly reaching out and grabbing tiny fistfuls of his shirt.

“No, it's not. I don't ever want to make you cry.” He pauses for a second before adding, “you smiling is what makes me happy.”

“Huh? Really..?” Your eyes sparkle brilliantly, even more so when he nods to confirm.

“I want to be the one to make you smile all the time, so...” He suddenly stands and wraps the tablecloth around his body, “if you want me to be your princess, I'll do it.”

Your little heart swells at the words and you leap to your feet, enveloping him in a tight hug, kissing his cheek repeatedly.

He squirmed in your hold but was laughing and squealing, so despite his protests, you knew he enjoyed the affection. “Gross! Girl cooties!”

You giggle and squish his cheeks. “Did you forget already? Silly goose. I'm the brave knight, and you're the pretty princess, so if anything, you have the cooties, not me.” You climb onto a nearby log which will serve as your trusty steed for now, and offered a hand. “I have killed the big ugly dragon and saved the day! So come, princess, let's go home – just in time for supper.”

Altaïr hoists up the tablecloth in one hand, accepting your offered hand with the other, and sat on the log behind you. “What happens after supper?”

You raise your tiny shoulders in a shrug. “I don't know yet. Get married, maybe?”

His eyes narrow. “You're going to make me wear another dress, aren't you?”

“Yep!”

“Ugh, fine...you better find me a nice ring. A gold one.”

“I will.”

“And I want a big wedding, so I can invite all my friends.”

“Hey, I'm not made of money, you know!”