asscreedkinkmeme ([personal profile] asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2011-03-29 05:37 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.3

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.3
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List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

Mindshift 4/18

(Anonymous) 2011-06-08 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
“That wouldn’t be a bad thing… No more snarkiness at my not even middle school education, people who can fight like I can, no more ‘training sessions’ as an excuse to beat me up…”

He shook his head and busied himself with packing. He and the old man slept on the floor, and when morning rolled around, he moved all of the things onto the wooden slate and attached it to the horse. It all came naturally as he helped the man. He felt so at home here.

“Tell me about where you came from,” the old man said as Desmond mounted.

“Sorry, Granddad?”

“Your home?”

Desmond cocked his head and then pursed his lips. “I don’t remember much about it. I’ve been on the run for the longest time. I was captured by an evil corpor—group of men—then was rescued. The lady who rescued me became my family, and we’ve been chased around ever since. Then I ended up here and… I’m eternally grateful you found me.”

“I’m sure you’ll prove your worth at the guards’ camp up ahead.”

He grinned. “I’ve been trained better than Altair himself. I can take them.”

The old man raised an eyebrow. “Better than the ‘Great Eagle of Masyaf?’”

He nodded.

“Quite a claim.”

“I will prove it to you.”

“I will wait to see if what you say is true, Great Liar for a Living.”

Desmond laughed, and the old man chuckled with him.

“You certainly made a good impression with those men from yesterday. You slipped into the commanding role so easily.”

“They have a lot of men like me. One rogue liar will slip through the ranks.”

The old man laughed, and Desmond smiled at his happiness. It had been long time since he felt like this. Between Shaun’s constant bitching and all the stress from his training, it had been a long time since he had laughed. He grinned as their horses plodded along, carrying the small amount of stuff the poor guy had.

“Where are you moving in Jerusalem?”

“My daughter lives in the rich district.”

He nodded. “Okay! Jerusalem is a beautiful city.”

“But the people are not so sometimes.”

He laughed. It was high noon before they entered the guards’ encampment. The Crusaders nodded at him as they passed, and when they entered the heart, one of the cooks flagged them.

“Are you hungry, sirs?”

Desmond’s stomach rumbled in response, and the cook laughed. They were served, and he and the old man ate with the men as their horses were tended to.

“Pardon me for asking, sir,” one of them started.

Desmond nodded.

“But I don’t remember seeing you. You seem awfully young to be a Templar knight.”

“I was a special case because of my talent.”

The group nodded as if they had seen it a million times.

“May I ask a question?” another asked.

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you not at your post?”

He chuckled. “I asked for leave to help move my granddad to Jerusalem.”

“The city of the Muslims?” one of them exclaimed.

Desmond nodded. “Crazy, I know, but I will be able to access the inside of Jerusalem that way.”

They were silent for several minutes, and he smiled at his “granddad” when he felt a hand on his leg.

Then, “I guess that proves why you’re ranked so high. I never would have thought of that.”

Desmond was surprised, then, he smiled. He wasn’t used to such a compliment. Shaun would have berated him for other parts of the lie he hadn’t thought of yet. He finished his meal before another spoke.

“Permission to speak?”

“Granted.”

“You must have been promoted recently, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“I wondered.”

“Why?”

“Most of the Knights would not give us the time of day. They just boss us around and guard their precious boxes, only to be killed from behind by the damn assassin Altair.”

Desmond laughed. “Yes, I was promoted very recently.”

“I’m jealous.”

He looked over his shoulder at the sound of someone approaching. A Templar Knight, dressed just like him, one of those sixty he had killed in the memories, approached him.

“Why are you wasting your time talking to these men? They are not worth your time.”

“I was letting my granddad rest.”

“Off with you, scum. Leave the Knight alone.”

Desmond raised an eyebrow as they filed off slowly. He frowned but held his tongue as the Knight sat down.

“Where is your helmet?”

“I lost it in a fight. It was ruined beyond repair.”

“Who could you have fought to ruin headgear like that?”

Without thinking, “Altair, the Great Assassin.”