Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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long-term loss 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

Ratonhnhaké:ton packed the most comfortable, practical clothes he could find, he would probably spend a lot of time either riding or travelling by horse-drawn coach in the next few weeks. His father would probably insist Ratonhnhaké:ton left Achilles behind, but the kitten was a comfort he simply could not do without. Haytham might have begun to be more honest, but he still seemed to be hiding something. Stephane and the others had been kind, certainly, and they had seemed genuine enough, but they too had seemed not entirely honest. A cat, at least, held no secrets.

Ratonhnhaké:ton sighed. It was silly, but… his belt did not sit right upon his hips. He felt on edge, somehow. He could not shake the feeling he was missing something. But that was a ridiculous thought, wasn't it? He had spare clothes and things to occupy himself, as well as his coin-purse. What else could he need for travelling? There was definitely something… Oh. A bow and arrow. He was a proficient hunter, wasn't he? Well, he assumed so- surely a novice couldn't kill a stag with a well-aimed arrow through the eye.

Ratonhnhaké:ton made a mental note to ask Haytham if he could borrow a weapon of some kind. If he was that skilled at archery, he could probably handle a musket or pistol sufficiently enough to not get himself killed.

…

"No," Haytham said. "Why do you even want a weapon?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton placed his trunk on the floor, and leant against the doorway. The housekeeper picked it up a moment later, taking it to the carriage before he could protest.

"What if we are attacked?" he asked. "What if we are stranded? I am not asking for much. Did I not have a bow and arrow when Charles found me?"

"Yes," Haytham admitted. "But it's broken. I'm not sure where the remains are. And I had to have the rags you were wearing thrown away. They couldn't be salvaged."

Ratonhnhaké:ton raised an eyebrow. Haytham was definitely hiding something.

"Well, then what about a pistol? Or a musket?"

Haytham chuckled at this, and Ratonhnhaké:ton gritted his teeth. What was wrong with the man? He wasn't exactly an endearing individual, but he certainly wasn't caustic. This sudden change in personality was worrying, to say the least.

"My dear boy, being an archer doesn't mean you can handle a gun! Look, if we pass by an artisan who sells bows and arrows, I'll pay for one myself. But be reasonable, lad, we've got to leave right now, and the rest of us don't have weaponry to spare. And even if we did, we're not so irresponsible as to give them to a complete novice."

Ratonhnhaké:ton sorely wished to point out that he was actually quite experienced with weapons. He had to be, if he was really an outlaw, and even if he didn't remember much about combat, his body was clearly that of a fighter. He'd taken down those men at Stephane's inn, hadn't he? All right, they had been drunk, but… his body had moved almost on it's own. On instinct.

"I understand," Ratonhnhaké:ton said, sullenly. He understood just fine. Haytham didn't trust him. Admittedly that distrust wasn't entirely unreasonable, given Ratonhnhaké:ton's shady past, but considering Ratonhnhaké:ton could not remember said past and tried to be as honest as possible to Haytham, the knowledge his own father did not trust him was… well, it stung.

Haytham sighed.

"Don't sulk. Please just get in the carriage and behave."

"I am not sulking," Ratonhnhaké:ton said curtly, before turning on his heel and making his way to the carriage, picking up Achilles on the way. Charles was already waiting there, a small black pomeranian bouncing excitedly around his ankles. Thomas was busy speaking with William, and John was nowhere to be seen.

"Spado, down!" Charles hissed.

"You got a new dog?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked, trying not to think about Haytham's change of behaviour. Charles turned around, looking startled.

"He had an injured paw when I took the others out," Charles explained, still looking somewhat nervous. "Er, this might seem like a strange question, but those people Thomas says you met…"

"…Yes?" Ratonhnhaké:ton prompted, when Charles hesitated.

"They didn't say anything, did they? About me, I mean?"

"I do not believe so, no." Ratonhnhaké:ton cocked his head to one side, eyeing Charles intently. He didn't look particularly anxious, but Charles had a sly tongue. Was he hiding something as well? "Why do you ask?"

"Those people don't like me very much. I was afraid they might have told you some unsavoury lies about me."

"You mean… rumours?"

"Yes," Charles nodded. "You know, they started a rumour recently that I wanted to kill George Washington! The very idea is ridiculous, of course, and George knew it to be false, but he's has to remove me from active duty and investigate. That's why I've been able to spend so much time with you and your father."

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded, though something in the tale seemed lacking. When he'd last spoken with Washington, the Commander hadn't wanted to believe the allegations against Charles, hadn't wanted to--

--he knew George Washington. How did he know George Washington?

The Commander's mouth was always drawn into a grim line, though he always went out of the way to be polite, nodding to Ratonhnhaké:ton when he visited Valley Forge, letting the corners of his mouth quirk up in a grateful but exhausted smile. He always made sure to thank Ratonhnhaké:ton for… for…

Ratonhnhaké:ton rubbed his eyes, frustrated. Achilles mewled, pawing at him comfortingly.

"Are you all right?" Charles asked, looking rather anxious now. Haytham left the front door, deep in conversation with John and Benjamin, and locked the door behind him.

"Headache," Ratonhnhaké:ton lied. He climbed into the carriage, and waited for the others to sort themselves out. There wasn't room for more than four people in the carriage, and two outside, driving the horses. Someone would probably need to ride behind the coach.

Eventually, Charles and William climbed into the coach, and Haytham stuck his head through the door.

"Connor, we're heading to Lexington, through the scenic route. Should be there be-- why do you have that cat? Put it back in the house."

"Achilles is not negotiable," Ratonhnhaké:ton said. Haytham rolled his eyes, irritated.

"That was an order, boy. We can't look after animals while we're travelling. The servants will take care of him."

"I am not leaving him behind. Anyway, you do not seem to be complaining about Spado."

Haytham gave Charles a fierce glare, and after a few very long seconds relented, though very reluctantly.

"If it gets in the way, you're leaving it in the countryside. Understood?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton made a noncommittal noise that Haytham seemed to take as a 'yes, father'. He left, apparently driving the coach with Thomas, and Benjamin sat in the empty seat left.

"John's riding ahead, getting our rooms for tonight ready, and planning the route for tomorrow," he explained, at Ratonhnhaké:ton's quizzical glance.

Ratonhnhaké:ton pulled his hat down over his face, and leant back as the carriage lurched forward. He stroked gently at Achilles' fur. This would be a long journey, and he was not in a particularly sociable mood.

…

He drifted in a drowsy sort of half-sleep, almost jolted back to reality by the sound of the horses clip-clopping along. He was vaguely aware of the sunset, and of voices murmuring.

"…think he'll remember soon? It'd be…"

"--uch, Charles, Haytham knows what he's…"

"…the Assassins. We can't allow…"

"--der? He'd never agree! If he remem--"

Someone shook him, urgently. Ratonhnhaké:ton cracked his eyes open, and pushed his hat back up onto his head. William seemed to be leaning over him. It was a bit hard to tell, considering the

"We're at the inn," he said. Ratonhnhaké:ton sat up straighter, Achilles curled up in his lap asleep. He scooped the kitten into one hand, and climbed out of the coach.

"My trunk?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked… well, slurred would be a better word. His head was fuzzy from the not-quite-sleep he'd spent the last few hours in.

"Thomas took it in for you," Haytham said. He patted Ratonhnhaké:ton on the back, jolting him a little further into wakefulness. "You must be hungry. We'll eat, then go to sleep, and then we'll be off again in the morning."

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded, and yawned.

The hours trickled by slowly. Ratonhnhaké:ton wound up playing cards with Thomas and John after eating supper, losing every hand of every game. Although in all honesty that was more because he let Achilles choose which cards he played than having no skill.

"I'd be a rich man if you was playin' wiv cash," Thomas remarked.

"I am sure you would be," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied. Achilles nudged one of his cards with his nose, and Ratonhnhaké:ton tossed it on the table.

"Letting your cat play isn't a very effective winning strategy," John remarked, sipping his ale.

"I am not playing to win," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied. "I am playing to pass the time."

"Winnin's the best bit o' takin' part," Thomas said, finishing his tankard.

When Haytham retired to bed and politely suggested his son ought to go to sleep too, Ratonhnhaké:ton obeyed, mostly because he really didn't have anything better to do than try to sleep again. 'Try' being the operative word. Perhaps that nap on the way to Lexington had been a bad idea…

Or rather, perhaps it had been a good idea, considering Ratonhnhaké:ton could hear the sounds of a lock being picked over the quiet snores and even breathing of Benjamin and Charles.

He climbed out of bed, slowly, grateful that he hadn't bothered to undress further than his boots and jacket. He crept to the door, picking up one of the swords leaning against the wall. He positioned himself against the hinge, so as to be behind the door when it opened.

He waited, with baited breath, half-wondering why he wasn't trying to wake Charles and Benjamin up. They were his allies, right? He ought to wake them up, it would make more sense to face the intruders together.

No, it wouldn't, he thought suddenly, bitterly. They had killed his mother.

Ratonhnhaké:ton had no time to wonder where that strange thought had come from (she was killed in a fire, wasn't she?) before the door swung open, and someone stepped into the rented room.

Re: long-term loss 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

Smart move on Haytham's part not letting Connor have any weapons - who knows what he would remember just by wielding one. I do enjoy Connor and Charles' growing friendship and heh how they cling to their pets. I almost feel bad for Haytham who is trying to desperately to keep Connor to himself.

Argh! What a cliff hanger ending! Who could the mystery intruder be? Obviously not a Templar. Perhaps Achilles or one of the recruits? So curious, please update soon!

OP

[(Anonymous)]

Ooohhh.

I do wonder which one of the recruits (I assume it's a recruit) has come to get him. Looks like his memories are starting to kick back in faster and faster. The number of hidden pieces of knowledge seems to be getting faster...

And the Templars seem to know that they're losing him too.

*bites nails in suspense*

Re: long-term loss 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

It all seems to be coming to a head soon... Connor's memories are slowly coming back, man, I'd hate to see what Haytham will do once he finds out they're coming back.

Hopefully it's one of the recruits, or Achilles, come to find Connor! :D