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asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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Discussion
Grief's Madness 12/? (TW: as above)
(Anonymous) 2013-05-08 04:49 am (UTC)(link)Skilfully, Clipper and Dobby had constructed a riot near the edge of New York. Those who fled were no good, those who fought (and fought well and honest), were pulled aside. This was third time the riot had been started. Out of it all, with Jacob, Duncan, and Stephane disguised as Bluecoats to disperse the riot before the real Bluecoats arrived, they had taken fifteen men and seven women. Of those, eleven men and three women agreed to a more vigorous training. Clipper was having the time of his life with the women - they had taken to shooting as if they had been practicing since they were in the cradle.
They didn't know what they were training for. Jacob had admitted to feeling guilty about using civilians, but they had to. Five Assassins against six hundred Templars and one Master Assassin was less likely to win than five Assassins and fourteen novices.
The current group were hopeless. Four men had some qualities of what it took, but only one of them really stood out. Jamie pointed to him, and Stephane swooped in to pluck the man from the main fight.
So that would make it fifteen novices, if he agreed.
A troop of Bluecoats caught his eye, as they marched closer to the Assassin-induced riot. Jamie gave three sharp whistles in warning, and immediately the people began to disperse, aided by threats of arrest and a solid few thumps of a musket stock. The disguised Assassins gathered, casually making themselves appear natural, saluting the troop as they passed, while Jamie scooted back from the roof's edge, and Dobby, Clipper, and their latest novice shared a haystack.
Jamie sighed - they were going to have a hard time training these people up to the level they needed to be in the time they had. It was risky and stupid, and Jamie hated it. They were sending these people to be slaughtered. If the Aquila hadn't gone into hiding, then they could have asked Faulkner and the crew to help. Jamie suspected the ship was somewhere south, south enough to fall off the edge of the world if that wasn't a ridiculous concept.
They needed trained Assassins.
Sighing, Jamie scanned their surroundings to check for more Bluecoats, then whistled the safety signal. The recruit looked quite dazed as Dobby and Clipper pulled him out of the haystack. Then he sneezed. And sneezed again and again until his nose was red and dripping, then he sneezed some more. Jamie groaned and buried his head in his hands.
The man was allergic to hay.
***
“I heard you needed help.”
Clipper raised his musket, finger off the trigger, but ready to fire if needed. He looked up - it was surprising how many people didn’t look up - and immediately found the source of the voice. A woman in black robes and a yellow and red scarf leaned over the roof ledge. She smiled, a scar on her lip twisting with it, and Clipper had the distinct impression she was laughing at him.
“Well done,” she said, lightly jumping onto a ladder, sliding down it, and gracefully landing next to him.
Now this was an Assassin. Clipper felt ashamed of himself, for standing next to such an artful member of their Brotherhood. Sisterhood. ‘Hood. At any rate, she clearly had more experience and more skill, and a natural capacity for the arts of the assassin that made Clipper nervous. He didn’t think he would ever be able to match up to her.
“You are Aveline,” he said.
She smiled.
“Very good, mon ami,” replied Aveline. “Now, is it true?”
Clipper didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. He nodded. Aveline’s shoulders slumped, albeit slightly. Only another Assassin would have noticed.
“Well then, Mister...” she trailed off.
“Clipper. Just Clipper.”
“Clipper. A sweet name. Suitable for your speciality. I would not mind having you come to New Orleans to tutor some of my apprentices on the true ways of the shooter.”
A red blush rose from Clipper’s collar. She laughed, petted his shoulder, and said, “Do not be bashful, your skills are superb according to the letters Connor sent me.”
“You would not say that if you met my family.” He shrugged, still quite red. “Will you require lodgings?”
“Ah, yes, about that,” said Aveline. “I have brought ten of my most experienced apprentices with me. They are close to being able to teach novices themselves. I do hope this does not intrude upon your plans.”
Soft thumps of feet landing against the dust and mud of the road behind them made Clipper turn. Aveline’s apprentices had arrived. They were dressed in a similar manner - they had a quasi-uniform, and the feeling of shame returned to Clipper. He knew that it was better that he wore civilian clothing, but their uniforms echoed a strong tradition throwing back to their European founders. They looked good. They looked strong.
They ducked their heads to him, and Clipper realised that they were deferring to his lead.
“Oh, oh, I don’t - I mean, I am not the leader,” he stammered out. “Connor is but...”
“Do not worry yourself,” said Aveline. “You mentioned lodgings?”
“Ah, yes, I believe that we will all fit. It might be a tad squashed, but I am sure it will not matter. We would be grateful for the help.”
Clipper looked away, uncomfortable with so many pairs of eyes on him. He could still feel them on his back as he snatched up a stick and drew a rough map on the road. Aveline peered at it, trying to make sense of the scribbly drawing. The tip of the stick pointed to a squiggle, and scratched at it as Clipper explained, making it more and more convoluted.
“It looks like a whale,” she said finally, confused.
Clipper realised the apprentices had huddled around them as well. He was reminded of a lacrosse huddle. They all seemed confused. Throwing his stick down, Clipper scuffed it out. It did not look like any sort of sea creature at all. (Secretly, he agreed that the map was rather messy, but he would never admit it.)
“Well, I was never very good at drawing. I was supposed to fetch medicine, but I am sure Jamie will understand if I bring you back instead,” he announced.
He smiled nervously at Aveline, and she smiled back, allowing him to lead them to their den.
***
One month.
They only had one month before the Lodge was complete. And when that happened…
…Charles smiled, and fingered the amulet around his neck. The Piece of Eden. No doubt that the Assassins would try to take their former leader back, but it was too late now. He had destroyed Connor’s hatred, tamed Ratonhaké:ton’s fears and truly brutal and savage personality, and imposed a much better, much fairer, much more elegant personality upon him. He doubted that Connor remembered anything of his previous life, his mind filling in the details with the vivid accounts of the journals that Haytham had left behind. Cruelly left behind.
He hoped Haytham would forgive him, if there was an afterlife. But Connor was a lovely substitute, if not entirely perfect. There were minor mannerisms that Charles hadn’t managed to entirely erase. Connor tended to tilt his head to one side when he inspected something, mulling what he saw over in his mind a thousand times with a thousand corrections before speaking. Haytham did not tilt.
It was minor. Charles had accepted it, and moved on. Haytham hadn’t been particularly fond of his Pomeranians (he liked larger dogs, ones that wouldn’t get underfoot, Great Danes, Pointers, and Rottweilers), and he was fearful that the new Haytham would be the same. However, when Spado followed Charles down to the cabin one day, and wriggled through the hands of the guard, Haytham had leaned down and petted the black dog with a gentle smile on his face.
This was also something Charles had accepted, quicker than the first oddity. If Haytham now liked all dogs, not just large dogs, then he was happy by that. He trusted him not to harm them. He trusted him.
One month.
One month, and Haytham would be Haytham in the eyes of the Order as well as the population of the Lodge complex.
Re: Grief's Madness 12/? (TW: as above)
(Anonymous) 2013-05-08 11:34 am (UTC)(link)The last bit made me feel really nervous. Its good to see that some of Connor is shining through :') I hope he does remember his old life in the end, for his sake, as unlike with haytham, theres no one who can really tell him about anything ehhhh, 14 and earlier? if we assume achilles is dead and his tribe has already gone west. Faulkner might be able to help though.
Im definitely excited for the next part and i love the pacing of this; a lot of other fics take fooooorever to get to each interesting event
Re: Grief's Madness 12/? (TW: as above)
(Anonymous) 2013-05-19 09:22 am (UTC)(link)Connor is pretty smashed up. Unfortunately, there will be pieces that will take a long time for him to remember.
Thank you for reading! I'm glad you like the pacing!
Re: Grief's Madness 12/? (TW: as above)
(Anonymous) 2013-05-08 06:46 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Grief's Madness 12/? (TW: as above)
(Anonymous) 2013-05-19 09:23 am (UTC)(link)LOVE THIS!
(Anonymous) 2013-05-08 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)i can't wait to continue reading!
Re: LOVE THIS!
(Anonymous) 2013-05-19 09:34 am (UTC)(link)<<<< New part is being threaded off part 1
(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)