Hello everyone! This is my second one-shot and it is complete 180 from the first story I wrote. I was inspired by the Pan's Labyrinth's movie soundtrack, especially the track called "Mercedes Lullaby". Something about that particular track made me think up this story and Arno was the only assassin that popped into my head when I planning it.

The song is such a beautiful and sad sound that I could not pull away. I highlyrecommend you all to listen "Long, Long Time Ago" (Or in some cases it's called "Mercedes Lullaby") while reading the ending of this story to get the full effect. I honestly wrote the ending while playing this song on repeat and had tears coming down my face at times. I'll post a link to the video I used in my profile!

Enjoy! (Hopefully)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my characters and plot.

Thunder roared like a wild lion in the African Savannas.

The wind howled as if it were in pain.

Lightening quickly scattered across the dark clouds before it disappeared again.

Glass was shattered to a million pieces while the bed sheets were attacked to shreds. Everything was either broken or destroyed to the point that it could not be fixed. The window was left open and the harsh winds blew the thin, white curtains.

The curtains had signal for surrender and Arno couldn't help but agree.

There was a fresh pool of blood around Arno and his hands desperately clutched the body. His fingers were bare and sickly felt the warm, sticky blood clinging to his skin. The assassin was prepared for many things like close combat with his enemies or jumping from roof to roof knowing a small misstep would end his life. He was prepared for many things, but there was one thing he was never prepared for.

And that was death.

A little girl firmly held her mother's hand as she was lightly pulled through the busy market. People were screaming and shoving each other to reach the stands for food. She heard many voices flowing around her and she could detect some anger or frustration in the crowd. She thought this atmosphere would calm down since the monarchy was gone. She thought life in France would get better yet it seemed the same to her.

People were angry.

People were tired.

People were stressed

And people were scared.

"Catherine," her mother called out. The young girl snapped her small head up to see her mother's blue eyes. "Let us leave quickly. We have everything we need, fortunately."

She nodded. "Yes, maman."

Her mother managed to escape the chaotic market scene without any problems. Her basket was filled with some needed food like bread and fruits. Catherine remained quiet and eyed the rubble pavement that was dark and dirty. Everything in France remained the same since the King died. The streets were silent and the buildings looked as if they would crumble into dust if a person threw a pebble at it.

There were people begging for money or food. Their clothing wrinkling and ripped with holds in various places. The place smelled like a dead animal after it was attacked and left to rot. The gray, thick clouds blocked the beautiful sun from shining down on France. It covered the country with gloom and despair and Catherine missed seeing the sun with her own hazel eyes. It was bright and the sun's warmth kissed her soft, porcelain skin.

As the girl continued to walk forward, the scene of France changed slightly. She was away from the madness that was poisoning her beloved town. Her family lived a bit outside of the populated town, as it was much calmer and cleaner too. Her mom opened the door and Catherine immediately stepped inside. She had helped her mom put away the groceries and ran upstairs after she was finished.

"Remember to take a bath, mon ange," Catherine heard her mother yell from downstairs. The girl would take a bath soon since she wanted to feel clean. She had no dirt on her clothes or skin, but just walking through the market made her feel unclean.

Her bedroom was tiny with barely enough space for her bed and drawers. She would sometimes squeeze through the room just to reach for her favorite spot: her window. The girl loved the window. It gave her the perfect view of France and she could see endless miles of the country. This spot allowed her to see what was going on without being noticed.

She often saw people walking around. Saw smoke slipping into the air. Saw the stars twinkle at night. Saw how calm and peaceful France truly was underneath the lovely moonlight. It was her favorite pastime before going to bed, but the best part would be seeing her favorite person: Arno.

He was a funny and cheerful man. Sometimes Catherine wondered if he was still a child at heart because there would always be this certain twinkle in his eyes whenever he would visit. He was taller and stronger compared to small physique and the blue, heavy coat would only add on to his built.

Of course he wasn't a stranger. Arno was a friend that Catherine's father, Alexandre, knew. She knew that if Arno was someone her dad trusted, then it was okay for her to trust Arno. Catherine did not know what Arno did though. She knew her dad was a lawyer and her mom was a seamstress, but Arno was a mystery.

"What is your job?" Catherine would ask him at times.

She would be sitting on her bed, caressing her doll that her dad bought one day. Arno would be leaning against the wall, his arms crossed with his hood up. Her hazel eyes would see his lips curve into a smile and he would simply say, "I'm a protector."

"A protector of what?" She pondered at the older man and the assassin chuckled. Catherine wanted to know what he was protecting.

Was he protecting the people in need?

Was he protecting the good people?

Was he protecting the weak?

Was he protecting all three?

Arno merely sauntered over to the young girl. He knelt down on one knee while his gloved hand patted her thick, brown hair. Now that he was at her level, Catherine could clearly see his face. It was youthful, yet old. His cheekbones sharp to the touch and his skin coarse compared to her baby skin. There was a faded scar that ran from the top of his nose and stopped just above the right cheek.

"Do you have a protector?" She would innocently ask and Arno would not answer immediately. Catherine noticed his eyes held some sadness, but he quickly covered them up. The girl frowned and she stated, "I'll be you're protector."

"And why is that?"

"Because everyone should have someone who would protect them," she shared with a bright smile that never failed to warm Arno's heart. "Just like how mommy and daddy protect me, I will protect you!"

The assassin chuckled and nodded.

"It's time for you to sleep," Arno would whisper softly and Catherine protested. She did not want to sleep. Not yet. Arno would find the little girl's attitude hilarious. Her cheeks would puff out and her tiny arms would cross over her chest. But he had to admire Catherine's determination that he saw in her hazel eyes. However she would give up and bury herself underneath the silky bed sheets with Arno blowing out the candle. Glancing over his shoulder he murmured, "Bonne nuit, mon petit ange."

One night Arno did not come.

Catherine had taken her bath and had her hair brushed by her mother. She enjoyed having her mom brush her smooth, thick hair. Something about the way her mother's fingers perfectly sowed through her hair with such delicacy was soothing to Catherine. She was fiddling with the white nightgown that flowed with each spin. It was so long that only her feet were visible.

Her mother turned the child around. "It's finished, mon ange. Make sure you do not ruin your braid."

"Can I see papa?" Catherine asked and the older woman slowly pointed down the hallway. The door was ajar and a soft light illuminated from the other side. Catherine skittered down the hall, her nightgown flowing behind like wings. She knocked the wooden door and heard a light murmur from the other side. Pushing the door open, she danced towards her father's desk and tapped his hand.

The lawyer glanced down and a smile appeared. "How are you, princesse? Getting ready to sleep?"

"Oui," Catherine answered and her father's chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. "I want to say bonne nuit."

"Bonne nuit," he repeated while planting a loving kiss on her head. "Dormez bien, mon ange. I will see you in the morning."

Catherine skipped out of the office and headed down to her room. She closed her door and hopped on her bed. The sheets shuffled loudly as she prepared herself for a comfortable position before she turned her head towards the window. It was open with the white curtains softly blowing against the wind. There was no moonlight this time as the clouds thickened and darkened France. A storm was approaching and Catherine could hear the low thunders pounding from afar. Closing her eyes and burying herself deeper into the sheets, Catherine soundly fell asleep and couldn't wait to wake up in the morning. The air will smell like rain and hopefully clean the dirtiness that clustered upon France.

A piercing scream woke Catherine up.

The inhumane sound scared her from her sleep and she jumped when thunder roared from outside. The storm arrived and began to unleash its wrath on France. Glass was shattered outside her room and more screams were heard. Catherine realized the screams were her mother and the girl immediately fled the bed as if it were on fire.

The hallway was engulfed with pure darkness and the only source of light came from the lightening that shinned through the windows. Her hazel eyes tried her hardest to see where she was going and so far she seemed to trip over items that were dispersed all over the floor. Inching closer to her parents' bedroom, she pushed the door open and her body shook with horror.

There was blood spilling on the cold floor and two bodies were intertwined with each other. Catherine's vision became blurry with tears as she stumbled down next to her mother's body. There was blood oozing everywhere, especially her mouth, but Catherine noticed she was still breathing.

"Mon ange…" Catherine's mother croaked. It was too much of a struggle for her to speak, but the older woman tried to push through for the sake of the girl. "It will be…okay…"

"Maman!" Catherine cried with fearful eyes. Everything was too much for the little girl and she was feeling very vulnerable. "Maman! Please don't go! Please don't leave me!"

"I will not…leave…you," she breathed out with pain. Her thin fingers shakily tried to brush Catherine's hair that was no longer in a braid. Teardrops were falling and Catherine could only grasp her mother's hand. "Hide, my child…wait for help…"

"No, maman!" She shook her head in denial. "You can get help still!"

Her mother could only managed a sad smile. "Je te aime…mon ange…"

The hand slipped from the young girl's grasp and Catherine body trembled in despair. Her mother and father were killed and she was left completely alone. Her family was gone and she did not know what to do. Her mom told her to hide, but hide from whom? Who attacked her parents and killed them in the most brutal way possible? They were just ordinary citizens trying to live by the most terrible time in France. There were so many question swarming through her small head that she almost didn't hear the loud commotion happening outside the bedroom.

Catherine was conflicted. Her mother said to hide, but the girl wanted to figure out who was still in her home. Maybe the attacker was still here and trying to find her. However, she heard a familiar voice come from outside and she decided to swallow her fears and run down the hallway.

"Leave this place!"

The voices were coming from her room and she realized Arno was here. There was another person inside as well. Whatever was happening, it did not sound safe as Catherine overheard painful grunts and animalistic growls. Things were thrown, stuff was shattered and Catherine could just imagine her room turned into a bloody mess.

"I was ordered to murder Monsieur Sauveterre by the Grand Master," a cold voice hissed into the atmosphere. It was soon followed by a loud thud of a body thrown across the room. Catherine could barely see what was happening from the ajar door, but she did notice Arno who was sitting on the floor. He was weak and his arm tried to reach for something, but the intruder had harshly stomped it.

Arno cried in pain.

"However that salope of a wife decided to play hero," he continued with a sharp tone. The cold-blooded killer threw a punch directly at Arno's face. "So I decided to kill her as well. But since you're here," he chuckled menacingly and Catherine's eyes widen to see a knife appear from behind. "Why not end your life as well? I'm sure the Grand Master would be thrilled to hear of your death and allow the new Temple Order to rise without you interfering, Assassin!"

Arno couldn't move and his body was too damaged. He had to think quickly, but his vision was blurred. The Assassin readied himself for death, but it did not come. The knife did not impaled his body and Arno wasn't sure why. Lifting his head up he noticed who was standing between him and the Templar, but he hoped his mind was playing tricks on him.

It just couldn't be…

The sound of the knife being pulled out reached Arno's ears and he saw blood drip from the weapon that the Templar held.

However it was not his blood but hers.

The Templar was shocked at what he had done, but he disguised it quickly. He couldn't stay any longer either. Glancing at Arno for a brief moment, the Templar escaped through the open window and disappeared into the storm. Time seemed to have stopped and Arno felt woozy to the very core of his stomach. But he shook his head and noticed Catherine starting to fall. Quickly reaching out for the young girl, the Assassin made sure she fell into his arms and not the cold, hard floor.

Arno clutched tightly to Catherine's body and wept at the sight of her blood seeping through her white nightgown. Her tiny hand was grabbing her chest, but it did nothing to stop the flow of blood from pouring down. Her mouth and teeth were stained with red and she was quivering as if she were freezing. Her brown hair was freed from the braid and was spread out. Arno's hand clasped on top of her small hand that laid on her injured chest.

Arno croaked in sorrow and anger. "Why? Why did you stepped in front of me?!"

"Because…" Catherine whispered ever so lightly that Arno almost didn't hear it. A loud thunder had passed by. "I am your protector."

He shook his head as heated tears began to run down his cheeks. "You're a child, mon ange! I was supposed to protect you! I was supposed to die not you!"

"Everyone…should have…" she struggled to breathe her words at him as death was nearing. Her throat was closing and more blood gurgled out of her mouth with every breath she took. She was shaking more, her strength weakening by every second. Her vision swayed back and forth, but Catherine pushed through. "Everyone should have…a protector…"

Lifting one bloody finger, she pointed directly at Arno's chest. "Including you, Arno…"

Catherine slowly closed her eyes and Arno felt her hand loosen the grip from her chest. Her head dropped further into Arno's arms and remained still. She was no longer breathing, no longer struggling. The Assassin realized she was gone. Her life was taken away from him and Arno pulled the child's dead body close to his.

And he cried and released the loudest scream possible that not even the thunder or wind could mask his frustration.

He cried for the longest time as he witnessed an innocent life slip away from him. She had so much to live for, to explore and to see. But instead she had taken the blade to save him from dying and live on. Yet it seemed wrong, very wrong to outlive a child who was just only ten years old.

Arno began to recall every single memory with the young child.

How her smile was always joyful every time he visited. How her hazel eyes would be filled with innocence and that was something Arno wished he had. How her laughter would be the purest form of music to his ears and how her hands would be free of pain and scars compared to his.

There was a fresh pool of blood around Arno and his hands desperately clutched her slim body. He began to steadily cradle her while continuing to cry in pure misery. His fingers were bare and sickly felt the warm, sticky blood clinging to his skin. Her blood was clinging to his skin. The assassin was prepared for many things like close combat with his enemies or jumping from roof to roof knowing a small misstep would end his life. He was prepared for many things, but there was one thing he was never prepared for.

And that was the death of Catherine Marie Sauveterre.

Kissing her forehead, he huskily whispered to her for the last time:

"Repose en paix, mon petit ange..."

The end!

If you didn't cry, then that's okay. But if you did, I'm so very sorry. I just had to get this story written down or else it would have been bothering the whole week. Once again, I do not speak French, so please excuse any wrong French phrases! I used different sites (Not Google Translator…unless it was my last resort) to translate them:

Maman (Mom)

Papa (Dad)

Mon ange/Mon petit ange (My angel/My little angel)

Bonne nuit (Goodnight)

Dormez bien (Sleep well)

Princesse (Princess)

Oui (Yes)

Salope (Bitch)

Je te aime (I love you)

Repose en paix (Rest in peace)

Feedbacks are welcomed! Until next time…

-WhatTheCensoredXD