Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
Fill Only

Join or Die

✩ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

✩ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

✩ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

✩ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

✩ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

✩ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.

✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

List of Kinks
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Fills Only
Discussion

Comments

Fill: The Way Back

[(Anonymous)]

Ziio had never truly felt helpless today, or felt the all-encompassing rage and sorrow that drove people to kill out of hatred and revenge rather than necessity. Now she stands in front of her ruined home as her tribe shuffles back to the burnt remnants of their village and looking for missing family members, and dimly thinks she might understand the madness borne of grief. The longhouses that were meant to shelter and protect her and her people will have to serve as a trap and a grave for their dead until the wounded are attended to. Her duty to her people demands that she go and tend to the wounded and comfort those who, like her, have lost something (everything) in the fire. But for once her duty is ignored-her legs will not move, her stinging eyes drawn not to her people but the ruins that will later reveal a too-small body, brittle and burnt. There is an emptiness in Ziio now, a desperately confused denial that threatens to bubble out of her frozen lips or a scream of rage and sorrow and loss.
She cannot move the wreck to hold her son’s brittle body, unable to move the same way she had been unable to move when she had been pinned by Charles Lee, spitting vitriolic demands and threats of death. Ziio wonders briefly if things would have changed if she had died-would Ratohnhake:ton be dead still, or would the world have taken her life in exchange for his.
Ziio tries to recall the last words he had spoken to her, but can only recall her son’s screams as her cousin had pried her away from the beam pinning Ratohnhake:ton. If only she had been stronger or faster, perhaps then her only child would not have died in pain and alone, burnt alive by his father’s subordinates. If only she had not been knocked unconscious by Charles Lee, she would have spotted the smoke sooner, gone back and saved her son. Is this the order and justice Haytham had preached about? Peace built on the burnt bodies of children? Ziio stands surrounded by the ashes of all she had loved and lived for, and something dies within her, leaving a hole that feels like her son’s smile. In the ruins and wreckage something precious (the only precious thing) leaves both her and the world, and something else is born, as hot and deadly as the flames.
Ziio will find the murderers, burn the Templars as the houses had burnt, as her baby had burnt, as she is burning. It is not a promise or a vow she makes, but a truth, as inevitable as the rising and setting of the sun. Charles Lee, Ziio thinks and her nails dig into her palms until her knuckles turn white and blood wells to drip and mix with the mud. Nobody will stop her vengeance, not the laws and “justice” of the white man or Haytham, should he ever show his lying face to her again.
When she had woken this morning, with Ratohnhake:ton snuffling sleepy sighs into her side, she had been at peace, happy and loved. Ziio had been a mother. She had helped another child be born into her tribe, had helped build a longhouse.
Tomorrow, when Ziio wakes, she will wake up alone. She will collect the bodies of her dead, conduct last rites for her son and the other members of her tribe. She will help rebuild houses, comfort a shattered community, and pick up the pieces of a once peaceful life.
In a few months, Ziio will leave her tribe to seek out an old friend with skin darker than hers and learn the ways of an Assassin. In a few years, she will begin her vengeance and hunt down those who attacked her people, meet Haytham again. Now, as the sun sets, Ziio lies her exhausted body down to sleep an uneasy, painful sleep. And she hates.

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Whoops that was… not quite what the OP asked for huh (sorry). I was going to continue, but it seemed like it was better to just stop there… As for why Ziio met Charles instead of Connor, I just made it so she went out to look for Connor and stumbled across the Templar party, who were preoccupied with her and hence didn’t find Connor, who went home after they were finished playing games.

Re: Fill: The Way Back

[(Anonymous)]

Late kudos but god, Anon, I love this fill. The way Ziio talks about murder for reasons other than necessity or self-defence- tear-jerker definitely and I couldn't help but think how similar the words were to another fanfic I read a year or so back (Embers by Vathara on FF.Net if you wanted to know).