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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Feeling. So. Sick. Blegh.

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 24 - Return

It was strange to have such power over a man, especially a man like Charles Lee, with only a few words, but at Connor’s pronouncement, the colour rushed to Charles’s face and painted his cheeks scarlet.

It was quite impressive given the amount of blood the Alpha had lost only a couple of days prior.

Connor looked to his father to gauge whether this behavior was normal for the second-in-command of the Templar Order.

His father’s face was inscrutable as always.

The man stared at his second, and then sighed. “I too, believe it a fine idea for the two of you to partner on future missions. Provided you do not put yourself in such a state again, Charles,” he admonished his former student.

If Connor had doubted the Templar’s humanity, then a single look at Charles Lee’s face at that moment would have dispelled all doubt. He looked abashed and humbled. A look that Connor was sure that he himself wore when Achilles used to point out his foibles.

“I am not normally so incautious,” Charles mumbled, looking away in shame.

His father snorted.

“I seem to recall a time you gained the attention of an entire regiment by smearing mud on your face and playing a crazed man.”

Connor had not thought it possible, but the bedridden Alpha turned even more red. He ducked his head away and looked, for all intents and purposes, as a naughty child might. As Connor’s childhood friend Kanen'tó:kon had once when he had eaten all the rabbit and forgot to leave some for Connor. They had seen but seven summers, and Connor had laughed and laughed at the red that bloomed on his friend’s face.

It was such an odd, and unexpectedly endearing, sight to see it on Charles Lee, that Connor could only look on in wonder.

Truly, he had not known of the man’s true character.

On the heels of that thought came a far more troubling one.

How had he not known of the man’s true character? How did he not know that Charles Lee was as capable of such displays of—normality—as he was many incredible and horrible acts?

Had the war between them, between the Brotherhood and the Order, blinded him so much?

Connor shifted uncomfortably thinking about it.

It put all he had done in such a different light.

The Templars talked of bringing peace. Had Pitcairn been such a man then? Had he been only guilty of trying to achieve peace through his own misguided means? Had William Johnson?

No, Connor decided. Not Johnson.

He had seen what the man had been about to do to his people. He had seen Kanen'tó:kon’s panic that the Alpha was trying to buy their ancestral lands, and he had been there to see Johnson order the massacre of his people’s council because they would not sell the land to him.

Such a man could not be good.

Could not.

And yet...

He thought the same of Charles Lee once. Ever since he had seen the Alpha on the day his village burned and assumed the man had orchestrated the destruction.

And again when the Templars were plotting to kill the commander.

But Charles needn’t have saved his life and put his own at risk.

That he did so spoke of a degree of goodness, an ability to appreciate the life and potential of others.

Did Johnson also have a kernel of goodness that Connor had simply not observed?

Did he end the life of a good man?

The question haunted Connor, and he found that he had no answer.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Connor blinked and looked at his father.

The Alpha stared back at him.

“N-no,” he murmured. “I am merely contemplating how strange this all is.”

He expected the look in his father’s eyes to turn mocking.

It never did.

“It is difficult, I know,” the Templar Grandmaster began. “We were enemies, and now we are tentative allies. It was not so long ago that you would be trying everything in your power to kill one of us, and we you had we known of your existence.”

Connor conceded this with a nod.

“But with Charles’s grand goal, that has all changed. And so it must be strange to think differently at the beginning. And you are bewildered that he saved you rather than help your enemies kill you. But you will become accustomed to it in time.”

It was truth.

And it was wisdom.

And Connor still felt rather ill about his actions in the past.

“We have many days before we arrive back in the harbor at Boston. If the two of you agree to it, then I should like to learn about the other Templars, so that I might understand your Order better. Such a thing will facilitate dialogue and understanding between our two organizations.”

His father looked contemplative.

“It is a dangerous ting,” he finally replied. “If the alliance does not work out, then you would have us at an advantage. You could use the information you obtain from us to cause great harm to our members. And as I am responsible for their wellbeing, I cannot allow that.”

Connor considered that.

“I would trade more information about myself as a trade—“

“It does not seem a fair trade.” His father paused. Then, “I am sorry, Connor, but my first duties are to my Order and the honorable men and women, Alphas and Omegas who comprise it. I cannot put their lives in danger unless I know that it is for unalterable reasons or an opportunity we cannot afford to miss.”

Connor was silent.

“But I can share my story, in return for yours, if you will have me.”

Connor blinked and turned to look at the Alpha lying in the bed.

Charles Lee’s story...

It would be a grand thing to know.

“I accept.”

Oh, anon I do hope you feel better /hugs/

As for this chapter, wow - poor Connor is questioning all his actions due to Lee's sudden shift in personality. I always felt bad for killing Johnson and Pitcairn - again because they had good intentions but using the wrong methods.

And oooh back story time! I wonder if Connor tells them that he had became an Assassin, not out of revenge but obligation and because one of TWCB told him he had to. I actually wonder if they even knew he was the little native boy they used as a scapegoat during the Boston Massacre?

Curious as to what stories Charles tells Connor, and if he mentions that he once had a wife who was of Connor's people... oooh the possibilities

Sorry anon. Actually sick. And it sucks.

//sobs//

Won't be able to update until I can string a paragraph's worth of sentences together.

But the backstory will happen. :) And it should be interesting for the both of them.

...am I making sense right now? I get the feeling that I'm not.

@_@

Don't you worry anon, concentrate on getting better soon, okay? If you're feeling well enough, maybe you could help me brainstorm some fluffy or angsty Charles and Connor scenes.

This anon agrees: just you take care of yourself, dear anon. There's plenty of time to continue the story.

Thanks anon! :)

Absolutely! :) In fact, bunny was biting me while I was sleeping last night. I dreamed that the Charles from First Word (after Connor's death) managed to get a hold of the Apple and jumped dimensions into Master of the House, a couple of months before Connor wakes up. He's quite horrified to find out what happened here and decides that this universe's Charles isn't a fit husband and isn't properly turning Connor into the Templar he should be. So he kills that universe's Charles and takes his place.

And then Connor wakes up.

Well, those bunnies of yours sure are persistent, anon lol I don't think they'll be leaving you until you've got every possible aspect and angle of this whole omegaverse AU covered.

Joking aside, you got me hooked with the idea only, though I really really fell in love with this fill. Seems I've got a weakness for Charles getting second chances to make things right.

Whatever you decide to do after your recovery, I sure will be here to offer support throughout these journeys <3

Re: In Pursuit of Happiness 23

(Anonymous) - 2013-06-05 18:47 (UTC) - Expand

Heat again? Hope you're feeling better, anon ):

I'm very very excited to see what you planned for the Charles-Connor exchange here. Perhaps the truth about Washington will be out as well? We shall wait and see. But it's good that Connor came to realize the good old wisdom that not all assassins are good and not all Templars are bad. Black and white is not a good way to think about the world.

Not heat this time. I think I'm legitimately sick. Gah...feel completely awful.

Was looking forward to writing the Charles-Connor bits, but will have to put it off until I can think coherently.

Also hear you about the black and white. That always irks me.

So, because I was too ill to update for a while, here's an extra long update. :D Alternate title: in which things do not go according to plan...

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 25 - Stories

They had decided to trade stories every evening after the anchors had been dropped. One evening would be Charles and the next Connor. As eager as Charles was to begin, it turned out he still needed a few more days to recover before he had the energy to speak for an extended period of time. And so he used this time to think and prepare and rest.

Where did one begin such a story anyways?

There once lived a general who greatly admired his Templar cousin...

No, no, no. He was not as apt a storyteller as Giambattista Basile. He was certainly not weaving a fairytale to dazzle and amaze, and he was no self-possessed lord who would take a stranger unaware.

Though, privately, Charles did think that his Connor would have done the role of Talia much better than the far too naïve Talia herself.

But no, he would not spin a bedtime story, the time be damned.

So how should he begin?

“My father was a colonel in the army when he came to learn that his cousin was a Templar.”

Connor, who had set up a chair for such discussions in the sickbay where Charles stayed, tilted his head at him curiously.

“It is a family affair for you, then?”

Charles shook his head.

“While father admired the Templar way much and sent me to schools that were run by the Order—“

And he’d had such fond memories of Switzerland, though less fond of Bury St Edmunds.

“—he was never a Templar himself. I grew up sympathetic to the cause, but it was Master Kenway who brought me into the fold. I had already wanted to become a Templar, but it was he who turned that desire into an all-encompassing need.”

Connor frowned at this. He looked thoughtful.

“Ironic,” he murmured.

Charles thought about it and conceded the point. That a former Assassin should become Grandmaster of a Rite and personally recruit him.

“Your father is an extraordinary man,” he whispered.

And he was very blessed to have the opportunity to work with such an extraordinary man.

Connor looked him at him, eyes suddenly sharp and knowing.

“You—admire—him greatly.”

It sounded...odd? As if his wife had wanted to say something different.

Charles looked at him askance but decided to let it go.

“What is there not to admire?” he mused. “When I met your father, I had spent a year serving under another of the Order’s, a Major General Edward Braddock.”

Charles’s face darkened at the memory of Braddock. The man had been brilliant, focused, driven. And he’d let his own personal ambitions destroy it all.

“Edward Braddock had been one of the best agents in the Order, save for Master Kenway, of course.”

Connor looked rather taken aback by this.

“Of course,” he muttered.

“But Braddock had been—twisted—by his previous experiences. I do not know the details, but he came to put his own personal ambitions above the goals of peace, order and brotherhood. And he chose to pit himself against the Order and against the British Grandmaster’s orders.”

His voice dropped to a hush as he recalled overhearing the Major General’s mad rants and vitriolic curses against Master Kenway.

“I believe he had something personal against Master Kenway. He was supposed to volunteer his resources to help the establishment of a new Rite in the colonies, but, instead, only gave a few grudgingly and tried to hinder Master Kenway as best he could.”

Connor was silent, thoughtful. Then, “all organizations have its divisions.”

Charles shook his head.

“It need not be so. Your father did much to clean out the rot that had befallen the Order during his time.”

“It seems my father has done much.”

Charles looked at his wife sharply.

“He is the best Grandmaster we have ever known.”

A bold statement, perhaps, but no less true.

Connor stayed silent at that, and Charles continued his story.

“Serving under Braddock was one of my first real assignments, out from under the guidance of my father. And Braddock, as I mentioned earlier, was—unstable. Your father came as a revelation. He was poised, dignified, commanding, brilliant, compassionate, strategic, everything a Grandmaster should be. Everything an Alpha ought to be.”

“Or an Omega.”

Charles looked at Connor, startled.

“Yes. That is true.”

He had not thought of that before, and wasn’t that a silly thing?

Connor had all of those traits, and he was the most perfect Omega Charles had ever known.

“When he stepped off the docks that day and first spoke to me, I could scarce believe it. He was—is—a true gentleman.”

A faint smile on Connor’s lips then, and Charles’s wife coughed politely into his hand.

He was laughing at Charles.

Really, what was so amusing?

“Along the course of building the new Rite, he met your mother.”

Connor sobered immediately.

“We were after a slaver who had captured your people. Master Kenway, as noble as he is, freed them before we took the slaver out.”

“I read,” Connor began hesitantly, “that you freed all the captives.”

Charles looked startled at this.

“Father left one of his journals with Mother.”

His wife had the look of a child wondering what might have been, and Charles understood. His father, after all, had always sent him away for schooling, and he rarely saw them until he came to serve in his father’s regiment.

“Your father was adamant about freeing the captives. He did not believe in slavery. He found it a vile idea, and he had always had an affinity for your people in particular.”

Much as Charles had come to have an affinity for Connor.

“He was not the only one, you know.”

Connor looked surprised at this.

“I admit I do not care overmuch for your people—“

And here, his wife’s lips thinned in anger.

“—but I abhor the idea of slavery as well. William Johnson had always admired your people—“

“—and yet when I found him, he was getting ready to shoot the elders.” Those amber-brown eyes sparked with remembered anger.

“He is a practical man. He wanted to protect your people, and the only way to do so was to hold the land in safekeeping, as I myself have offered to you.”

And look how that worked out.

“If the price to protect your people is to shoot that council of elders, then he was going to do that, because he saw no other way.”

Connor was agitated now.

“He saw no other way because he considered us helpless, unable to protect our own land—“

“—and is he wrong?”

Connor fell silent, and Charles pushed.

“You said yourself, back in Bridewell, that the white colonials would continue pushing and pushing until they had want they wanted. Laws be damned. People be damned. You outlined some very compelling reasons for why that might be.”

Ones, Charles was loathe to admit, William had never considered.

“The colonials have more and better weapons. And with the diseases that we regrettably brought over from mother England—“

Although Charles knew many of his comrades would disagree that there was anything regrettable about it.

“—can your people truly stave off the forces against them forever?”

His wife fidgeted in agitation.

“What other choice do we have?” he whispered.

“Order.”

Charles grasped Connor’s hands in his own.

“A stable and strong government that protects your people because it sees that people like you have value in the way they live, in the way they comport themselves, in the way they work.”

Connor tried to pull away.

“You mean to diminish that ability of people and groups of people to judge for themselves? To make their own decisions? To—“

Charles wanted to shake him.

Too bad he lacked the energy.

“It is those greed-filled individuals who covet your people’s land! It is those individuals who think nothing of going to a new place and taking the people as hostages, sentencing them to a lifetime of slavery and misery. It is those people whose individual best interests is to annihilate your people!”

Connor looked away.

“It was a regiment of troops, controlled by the governing body, who burned my village.”

Charles blinked.

“So you know that—” he began hesitantly, unsure of where to tread.

“The elders have told me that it was men in red coats, commanded by an unknown colonel, who committed that atrocity against the people I hold dear.”

The words, it was Washington, was on the tip of Charles’s tongue.

“And do you still hunt this—colonel?”

Connor looked back at him, and Charles was surprised by the pensiveness in those lovely amber-brown eyes.

“I think I must, but...”

He trailed off.

“But?” Charles prompted.

“It seems I was overhasty in my actions towards Mister Johnson, if he truly meant as you said. I cannot say that I would not have done the same at that moment because I could see no other way to save the elders of the council, but I would have spoken to the man sooner. Before we came to that moment. Perhaps, instead of participating in that tea incident, I should have worked with Mister Johnson.”

Charles felt an unpleasant feeling crawling up his spine.

“Do you mean to suggest that you would be overhasty here as well?” he asked incredulously.

Because if that was what Connor was suggesting, then...

That was not what Charles wanted Connor to take away from all of this. He did not want to diminish his wife’s hatred for the man who burned his village.

“From speaking with you, I have come to realize that there is much I do not understand about people, and that I have, despite my best efforts, behaved callously towards human life.”

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Charles wanted to hit himself.

“I have always felt uneasy about killing Mister Pitcairn. For all that he is—was—the enemy, he seemed the least terrible. With this second example, it seems I must re-examine my decisions and tread carefully in the future. If I meet this colonel again, then I must first understand the circumstances in which my village was burned. I would make my decision then, after full understanding.”

Bugger.

awwwwww shit...

I'm still laughing here at the irony of this. Holy fuck. Charles... you're one of the most unlucky and unfortunate Alphas I've seen /pats poor Charles/

I wonder how Haytham will react now.

Anyhow, I'm happy to hear you're back, anon! And the longer update is very much appreciated, you're the best <3<3

Thanks anon! :D And yep, I like dropping really weird stuff on Charles. Too fun to play with.

LOL Charles should have went over his story with Haytham because he has totally trolled himself. Not only did he reveal his man-crush for his Grandmaster - in which Connor believes to be a romantic one - but now he has unintentionally given Washington a huge boon. However... knowing the truth could still do irreparable damage to Connor and Washington's not-quite-there romantic relationship.

Yeah. Charles really kicked himself in the ass there. :D If he works wisely, he'll still be able to damage Connor and Washington's relationship, but it's definitely gotten harder. Hehehe. He's too fun to play with. :D

Heh, I'm sure. But still Charles' has accomplished a lot in such short time - forming an alliance with the Assassins and earning Connor's trust was no easy feat.

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 26 - TWCB

“You do not look pleased.”

It was stated so calmly, as if it were but a slight curiosity.

And why not? It ought to have been a slight curiosity for Charles. It would have been, had it not been for his own knowledge of what had truly happened.

And even then, he knew himself well enough to admit that he would not have cared had the victim of that long ago night been anyone but his wife.

“It is all theory to me,” Charles muttered uncomfortably. “I do not know why you believe I ought to be pleased.”

Connor seemed a bit taken aback.

“Such understanding would also be useful for your remaining brothers. If our alliance ever dissolves, then I am just as likely to stay my hand when it comes to them.”

Charles supposed it ought to soothe his emotions, but found that it did little. He would much rather have a viable weapon against his wife’s feelings for Washington.

Connor seemed to sense his frustration for he looked curiously at Charles, and Charles found it necessary to change the subject and distract him.

“Speaking of brothers, whatever happened to Church?”

His wife blinked for a second, taken off guard.

“My father had him executed.”

Oh.

“I hope the two of you were not close before...?”

Charles scoffed.

“There were two members of the Inner Circle I never cared much for. The first is Hickey, who is a dissolute lout and has no manners of which to speak.”

Connor raised his eyebrows at this.

“The second is Church. The man has always been rather ungrateful in the role that we played in saving his life and helping him at the beginning and far too greedy and ambitious to ever truly be a proper Templar. I am not surprised by his treachery, and only wish I could have been there to aid in his execution.”

His wife looked a bit unsettled at this.

“There are very few people I have ever wished to kill myself. And now, there are none.”

Charles stared incredulously at Connor.

“Please correct me if I am mistaken, but have you not killed many in your line of work?”

Charles was sure he heard counts of dead redcoats strewn all over enemy forts and casualties on the Frontier. And, only a few days ago, they had each of them taken the life of 10 men at least.

It was not a trifling number.

His wife looked guilty.

“There are necessities in any task that cannot be avoided, but I do not seek to kill.”

A man who so disliked killing but had a higher body count that the next 10 men.

Charles honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“You ought not to have become an Assassin then.”

“That is not wholly by choice.”

What?

“What?” Charles echoed.

He could not have heard right. It didn’t make any sense.

But a part of him wished it to be true. Because if it was...

Connor stared at him then, suddenly uncertain and wary.

He seemed to think for a bit and then, coming to some sort of a decision, looked away.

“Do you know of my people’s traditions?”

It was such an odd question.

Charles tried to remember the very long and boring lectures William had given him before he was swept away into his duties and had perished with them.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not much.”

“When we come of age, we undergo a—spiritual journey.”

Ah yes. This one Charles did recall.

It was not a belief he shared himself, but he allowed that every group of people believed in some truly bizarre things.

“Is this the one where you discover your purpose?”

Connor looked startled at that, and Charles felt inordinately pleased with having been able to impress him with even his limited knowledge.

“My journey told me to find and learn from the man who held this symbol.”

He tapped the symbol of the Brotherhood on his vambrace.

Charles stared in disbelief.

That was oddly more—specific—than he’d expected.

“That particular symbol?” he asked, feeling a frisson of unease in the pit of his stomach.

Connor nodded.

“A spirit warned me of evil that would befall my people unless I sought out those marked by the Assassin symbol.”

The unease grew.

“A spirit?”

His wife looked distracted.

“A pale figure who glowed white and green.”

A memory sparked in Charles’s mind.

“And was this figure a woman with dark curls and unearthly pale skin?”

It was now Connor’s turn to look startled.

“You have seen her?”

Yes. In a certain cave he had fallen into. When he had been journeying to return his wife’s possessions to his people.

His research after told him it was Those Who Came Before.

To learn that they had sent his wife on such a journey, to become an Assassin...

What were they playing at? What did they want, bringing him back to now?

He needed to tread carefully.

“I do not know much of her, but I know that she is dangerous.”

Connor shivered.

“I felt so as well, but I do not believe she means ill to me or my people.”

Charles wasn’t sure he believed that, not with the plans that had sprung up in Parliament the moment the war against the Crown had been won. To deliberately put the young Omega on a path to help such people that would eventually drive the Natives out...

There was a deeper motive at work.

Charles wasn’t sure he liked it.

There was silence for a moment.

“You did not finish the story of your history.”

Charles focused on his wife who was idling staring at Charles’s ring.

“My apologies, but I seem to be too fatigued tonight. Shall we continue tomorrow?”

It was a weak excuse, but he needed to speak with Master Kenway. That the meddling of Those Who Came Before brought them to this pass, brought Master Kenway’s son to this pass...

His mentor needed to know.

Connor nodded.

“Then I wish you pleasant dreams and a good night.”

Charles’s wife stood up and, to Charles’s great surprise, drew the covers over Charles.

And then he left.

Charles absently fingered the hem of the blanket that his wife had grasped.

OMG two updates in one day, oh anon you know how to spoil your readers. Wonder what Haytham will make out of all of this. I especially love the ending where Connor draped a blanket over Charles, I sense affection blooming even though Connor himself isn't aware of it :)

Thanks anon. :)

Yeah, Charles's increased open nature and bestowing his own trust is working its own little miracle. He still has a very long way to go though. :D

Re: In Pursuit of Happiness 26

(Anonymous) - 2013-06-08 03:59 (UTC) - Expand

fffffffffffffffff an update <3<3<3

Now that I calmed down...

I think this scene has something rather intimate in it, not in the physical sense of course, but in sense that not even Haytham or anyone else can share such a moment with Connor - these two have both witnessed one of Those Who Came Before, and it's no small experience. Imagine the possibility to share it with someone without sounding like a lunatic, heh. Hopefully Charles can conjure up his wits after consulting Haytham, it's about high time he moved toward a more serious direction. *still rooting for Charles like whoa*

That's an awesome idea, anon! I never thought of that, but you're absolutely right. It's an experience that's pretty unique to the two of them and, as such, they are now very different than everyone else around them. :) If nothing else, Connor may be more inclined to trust Charles given his own experience with TWCB.

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 27 - Chilling Thoughts

As expected, when Charles informed Master Kenway of what he’d learned during his mentor’s visit the next day, the man was not pleased.

“We must re-examine our priorities.”

Charles nodded, though he did not like the idea.

Their current goals were all things they, as humans, could influence. The war effort, the alliance with the Brotherhood, Charles’s private mission with Connor... This new addition of Those Who Came Before was out of their understanding and out of their control. As such, it was wholly unwelcome.

“Sir, if They pushed your son onto the path of the Assassin, then might it not mean that They favor the Assassins?”

It was a frightening idea, and one that Charles hoped that his mentor would reject. After all, if such power favored their enemies, then how could they ever gain a sustainable advantage?

Master Kenway looked thoughtful.

“If They do, then Their power is limited. There would have been no need for Them to send you back to fix things if They were all-powerful.”

True that. If Those Who Came Before were really all that powerful, then they would have directly influenced events to the outcome they wanted the first time.

“They need me,” Charles whispered in wonderment, feeling oddly powerful.

“They needed an event to not happen that did or an event to happen that did not,” Master Kenway corrected. “You may be integral to that event or series of events, but take care not to assume that you will always be integral. We still know nothing of Their true motivations or what it is They are after.”

Charles immediately felt less powerful.

“But whatever Their motivations are, it is clear that They are determined to direct Their influence on our world in ways that have negatively impacted us in the past.”

There was no doubt of that. From Connor’s own statements, he would not have been an Assassin had it not been for Those Who Came Before.

Charles allowed himself to dream for a moment. What would Charles’s wife have been like, if he had never become an Assassin?

Not an enemy, that was for sure. Perhaps he would never have left his village and remained a simple hunter in the woods. He would know neither how to command a ship nor how to kill people with such ease. He might even have been already married off to a village Alpha and expecting a child. He would certainly not be the leader of Alphas and crafter of destiny he was today.

Charles would never have met him aside from that brief interaction so long ago.

“I think it has something to do with us.”

“Oh?”

Charles struggled to elaborate.

“Their first influence was on Connor to put him on the path of an Assassin. I can only think of a few reasons for him to become an Assassin specifically and all of them could be accomplished through other means except one: fighting against the Order.”

Master Kenway did not look pleased.

“While Those Who Came Before are clearly not gods, if They were truly against us, I have no doubt that They would have succeeded in destroying us long ago. They have been influencing the Assassins for generations.”

Yes, there was that. It really did not make sense unless...

“The artifact.”

Charles’s mentor understood immediately and drew out the amulet from around his neck.

They both looked at it, so innocently resting against the palm of Master Kenway’s hand.

“Each of the past few times They have interfered have been in relation to Their artifacts. There were rumors of Altair Ibn La’Ahad having come into contact with the Apple of Eden and being a changed man. We have accounts of Ezio Auditore meeting great changes in his own life due to the several artifacts he came across. And now my son...”

“And me,” Charles whispered.

Master Kenway’s sharp grey eyes focused on him.

“And now you.”

The message was clear, if daunting. Those Who Came Before apparently did not enjoy the thought of Their artifacts being left in Templar hands.

“But then why send me back?” Charles mused. “They could just as easily have sent Connor himself back, to avoid the marriage and destroy our Order.”

Master Kenway shrugged, though the intensity of his gaze did not decrease.

“Perhaps They need physical proximity to Their artifacts to evoke Their power and had not the opportunity with my son.”

Charles shook his head.

“Connor came into contact with your amulet once. During our honeymoon,” and he blushed thinking about it, “there was an incident, and you placed the amulet in front of him to test his composure.”

“Oh?”

Master Kenway looked mystified, but Charles would not elaborate. It was painful thinking about those times, about what had happened. If Charles had not acted so with his wife, if he had been a proper, patient husband focused on educating his wife as to the rightness of their principles instead of subjugation, intimidation and torture, would his wife have been so eager to trade his own life for Washington’s?

It was not important to their current discussion, and, luckily, Master Kenway did not push.

“There need not be a single objective. They may have many and while one is, apparently, to keep the artifacts hidden away—“

“—hidden away?” Charles could not help questioning.

His mentor looked vaguely annoyed.

“I do not see the Assassins using the artifacts even though they have been in their grasp for several hundred years. Whatever contact the Brotherhood has had with Those Who Came Before, it is obvious that the Assassins were no more allowed to use them, save for a single moment or two, than we are.”

That made sense and lessened the knot in Charles’s stomache. It was easier to think of a more neutral entity of such power than one firmly on the opposing side.

“So Their sending me to the past—”

“—may have more to do with another of Their objectives. One that seems to revolve around you and my son.”

“Or my son.”

Master Kenway’s grey eyes bored into his own, grave and solemn.

“Or your son.”

And wasn’t that a scary thought? That his wonderful little son, his little Haytham who Washington would have, no doubt, killed for the sin of not being his son, may be at the very heart of all this?

“I would like to borrow the amulet, sir. I would like to see if I can contact Them directly.”

He had questions that he wanted answered.

I love all the 'what could have been' thoughts Charles has regarding Connor not being an Assassin (have a feeling he'd be paired up with Kanen0 or what would have happened had he been a proper husband (really dying to read that Master of the House and First Word crossover someday).

“Connor came into contact with your amulet once. During our honeymoon,” and he blushed thinking about it, “there was an incident, and you placed the amulet in front of him to test his composure.”

LOL, I really need to update Honeymoon. But the First Word bunny is a selfish brat who does not want to stop chewing on my brain.

As for the artifacts, I wonder when Haytham and Charles discover that Connor has the Shard of Eden, and by both artifacts combine ~~they summon captain planet~~ they can pull you into your memories. Not sure if it's a Connor exclusive thing or not.

And wasn’t that a scary thought? That his wonderful little son, his little Haytham who Washington would have, no doubt, killed for the sin of not being his son, may be at the very heart of all this?

I miss little Haytham /hugs/ kind of scared how he grows up in the other timeline, wishing to hunt down Assassin!Washington.

Re: In Pursuit of Happiness 27

(Anonymous) - 2013-06-09 05:02 (UTC) - Expand

Re: In Pursuit of Happiness 27

(Anonymous) - 2013-06-09 05:12 (UTC) - Expand

Re: In Pursuit of Happiness 27

(Anonymous) - 2013-06-10 00:46 (UTC) - Expand

Chilling thoughts indeed...

This story is getting more and more exciting. And I think it's escaped the boundaries of simple kink - you're doing a wonderful job here, anon. I'm excited to see what Charles will accomplish and what bunny visited you concerning above anon's idea.

Re: In Pursuit of Happiness 27

(Anonymous) - 2013-06-10 00:44 (UTC) - Expand

Not altogether happy with this chapter, but found myself going here no matter what. Ah well. Next few should hopefully be more on target and less...all over the place.

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 28 - Futility

Over the next couple of days, Charles attempted to speak to Those Who Came Before through the amulet his mentor entrusted him whenever he found himself alone. And he found himself alone for much of the time.

Connor was too busy running the ship to drop by during the daytime, and Master Kenway too busy collecting what information he could from that gizzard Faulkner and the rest of the crew to spend much time with him. Apparently, the sailors trusted Charles’s mentor much more than they trusted Charles, despite Master Kenway’s position in the Colonial Rite.

The knowledge would have irritated Charles had it not suited his purposes. He spent the majority of the day concentrating at the amulet and hoped for that familiar green to wash over him.

None did.

Despite his best efforts and hours of straining and sweating at the damn thing, the amulet remained dull and unresponsive.

If Charles’s temper tended towards the petulant, he would have thrown the thing against the wall. As it was, he was still not advised to leave the bed, particularly as they had hit a series of rough patches in the ocean, and he knew he would not be able to retrieve it if he did give into the impulse.

He really, really wanted to though.

Charles clenched his uninjured hand around the amulet and tried once again to bring up a fleck of green, a hint of the otherworldly.

Nothing.

He muttered a curse.

Those Who Came Before were evidently similar to every other entity out there. There when one didn’t need them and conveniently absent when one did.

“Fat lot of use that was,” Charles muttered to himself.

“What was?”

Charles whipped his head up so quickly that he actually managed to give himself whiplash.

Immediately, a familiar pair of hands gently rubbed at his neck, soothing his aching muscles and easing his strained ligaments.

“I apologize for startling you,” his wife murmured. “It was not my intention.”

Charles could only mumble a rather incoherent affirmative, too off balance from Connor’s sudden appearance (and the pleasurable firmness of those hands on the back of his neck) to think of a reply.

“I did not think your people enjoyed touching others,” was the only thing to come out of his unthinking brain.

He berated himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Did he want those hands to stop?

Luckily, his wife only chuckled.

“I have not lived amongst my people for many years, and with your injured shoulder, you could hardly be expected to reach this spot yourself.”

True that.

“Would you like me to stop?”

“No!”

God, no.

Those hands were blissful and just having his wife initiate this touch, seek him out for a change... Well, it felt better than he could ever have believed.

Those warm, callused hands expertly soothed away his aches, and Charles closed his eyes and almost groaned in pleasure.

Was this what willingness felt like?

Soon, too soon, those hands left his person, and Charles felt bereft for the loss.

----

As Connor dragged a chair by Charles’s bedside, he privately wondered what had gotten into him. While it was true that he had come to better understand his rather grumpy patient over the past couple of days (and gained a new insight as to why the Alpha might have the temper he did if he had to deal with Connor’s father’s suggestions day in and day out), they were not close friends. Connor ought not take such liberties with the Alpha.

But seeing that gobsmacked face as he walked in, recognizing that telltale wince, Connor had reacted with thought.

He supposed...he supposed he had gotten used to the man. Not so comfortable around him that he trusted him completely but enough that he sometimes forgot not to trust him.

“We are stopping early today to restock on supplies at a midway port. I have dropped anchor and sent Faulkner and the rest of my crew for food and fresh water and ammunition for our guns. And I thought to check on your progress.”

He paused, chewing his lip in nervousness as a thought came to him.

“I hope that I am not intruding?”

Charles shook his head, and those blue eyes opened to regard him in curiosity.

“As a matter of fact, I have been looking forward to your visit.”

“Oh?”

That was intriguing.

“I have told you much about my own background, and I would take this opportunity to learn more of yours.”

Connor nodded. It was not what he had been prepared with, but it was no less than fair and agreed upon.

He clasped his hands nervously on top of the chair and leant forward, leaning his chin into his cusp of his hands.

Where to start?

“I was very happy,” he began, “in my early years. Mother raised me well, and I had many friends. We spent many a day playing hide and seek outside, and I knew no deprivation or pain.”

Charles looked thoughtful.

“Was that what you were playing when I...” he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Connor fidgeted. It still hurt to think about.

“Yes. It was what we were playing when you first came upon me.”

Charles looked away in guilt.

“It is not much, but I am sorry for how I behaved.”

Connor felt a spike of anger, but it fizzled soon. The true horror of that day was in the burning of his village, and that was not the work of this man or his compatriots.

“If I may ask,” he whispered, “why did you feel it necessary to use such harsh methods? I would have been far less suspicious of you through other means and may even have led you to what you sought.”

The Alpha looked even more uncomfortable, and those blue eyes met his reluctantly.

“You may have noticed that I am not the most—level-headed—of individuals,” he murmured. “We had already been searching for many days at that point and had the misfortune to meet with many hostile individuals in the Frontier. It is not an excuse, but, I took out my built up anger on you.”

Connor nodded. It made sense, even if it did not help him to hear.

“It is something I have been working on,” Charles continued. “My anger and lack of control over my own emotions have since caused me to lose people very dear to me, and I am working to bring it under control.”

Ah. Progress, but too late to spare Connor from such an experience.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Connor murmured.

Charles shook his head.

“It is my own fault.” Then he smiled. “But please, continue.”

Connor shook his head to clear it.

Charles Lee, he was beginning to learn, was quite a complex individual.

“The day I met you, I had been playing hide and seek with my friends out in the woods. After our—encounter—I made my way back to my village and found it burning.”

His voice hushed into a whisper.

“My first thought was Mother, so I went looking for her. When I finally found her, she was...pinned. I tried to free her, but could not and was carried away from her before the entire building fell on us.”

It was painful to speak. To even think about. So many things remained unsaid, about how he watched her burning and watched as many more friends and acquaintances had perished that awful, awful night.

Two hands grasped his, and he looked into regretful blue eyes.

“I am sorry,” Charles said. “If I would have had any idea that that was going to happen, then I would have done all I could to prevent it. No child should have gone through that.”

Not even a child of my people? Was on the tip of Connor’s tongue. But he looked into blue eyes and considered what he knew of Charles Lee.

No, Charles would not have let that happen if he had known about it. Not to his Grandmaster’s former allies. Connor knew enough of him to know that he had his own brand of honor.

“It took me over 10 years to learn, but it is not your fault. I spent the next 7 years with my tribe before I underwent my spirit journey, and then the next few learning the craft of the Assassin.”

Charles grimaced at this.

“And getting involved with the likes of the Sons of Liberty and George Washington.”

All good humor died.

“What is your problem with the commander and his colleagues? They are fine decent men, even if one of them is a pervert,” Connor muttered, thinking of Paul Revere. “I admit that the commander may not be the best strategist, but he is brilliant in logistics and other matters.”

Charles growled.

“You give him too much credit. How many battles has he lost since he has taken command? And of those we won, how many were due to your direct intervention—“

And Connor coloured thinking of Lexington and Concord and Mister Pitcairn.

“—and how many were due to the superior leadership skills of other generals?”

Connor put up a hand as if to hold off the onslaught.

“And could I or those other generals have been able to inspire the people as he has? Could we have made sure that supplies arrived on time, that the troops are adequately fed, clothed and have the ammunition to fight?”

“That’s not the job of a commander!”

Connor pinched his nose.

“It is an important duty nonetheless. One, without which, we would have lost the war a long time ago. And do not forget that George Washington is a good man. He inspires people of different backgrounds to work together for a common good and inspires a unity without which we would collapse.”

Charles looked as if he wanted to hit something.

“He burned your village!”

And Connor would only stare on in horrified shock.