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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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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.

Lol oh, Paul you're going to be on the hitlist of many Alphas if they found out you were feeling up Connor through the Midnight Ride. But DAMN that end where Charles just blurted out Washington's role...

O_O CHARLES WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!?!

I wonder how Connor is going to handle this, just when he was starting to trust and like Lee, this bombshell falls on him. Hope this doesn't destroy the alliance and all of Charles and Haytham's hard work.

Hope this doesn't destroy the alliance and all of Charles and Haytham's hard work.

Especially since they're still on a ship. :D

Paul you're going to be on the hitlist of many Alphas if they found out you were feeling up Connor through the Midnight Ride

Hehe, that actually might be very fun to write. :D

Well I doubt Connor is so heartless to maroon them, especially since Charles saved his life - he may give them the silent treatment until he speaks to George about this, at least I hope this happens for Charles' sake - cause then he'll have two pissed Kenways

Oh, and please let Charles and Haytham find out the midnight ride... LOL Connor would have so put up with working with Pitcairn if he could have avoid Paul riding behind him, feeling him, and SHOUTING directions in his ear while there was a bunch of redcoats on patrol.

Well I doubt Connor is so heartless to maroon them

They are actually right at a port at the moment, but yeah, Connor won't maroon them. :D You're kind of tempting me with the idea of two pissed Kenways. Hehehe.

Paul riding behind him, feeling him, and SHOUTING directions in his ear while there was a bunch of redcoats on patrol

My head-canon is that Connor dumped Revere a few times when he got 'handsy'.

It should have surprised me, but somehow it didn't, coming from Charles... Hahaha silly Charles - striking at the most convenient times. I also love that Paule Revere reference. Heh like I'm gonna believe they 'accidentally' left only one horse for the two of them pfffft

but somehow it didn't, coming from Charles

Yeah, no, Charles is...temperamental. And he's trying, but the only surprise would be if he didn't do something enormously stupid. :D

I <3 that Paul Revere ride for how utterly funny it was. At the time of playing, though, I think I really just wanted to dump him off the horse. I mean, seriously Paul...wouldn't it have been easier just to steer the damn horse yourself?

Hm...not too happy about this chapter either. I think I'm too ecstatic from E3 news to properly write dark/angsty stuff right now.

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 29 - Silence

Charles wanted to take the words back even before they had fully left his mouth.

It was one thing to blurt something out without thinking about it, without fully considering the consequences. That was not the case here.

It was another thing to proclaim something out and welcome the consequences, to seek confrontation. That was not quite the case here either.

And it was yet another thing to throw out a measured and calm phrase. To test the situation and come up with the best approach to a difficult situation. That was so far from the case that it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean.

No, what Charles had done was horrendously stupid, inconceivably daring and altogether unadvisable. As many of Charles’s outbursts, it was also classic Charles.

That knowledge did not make Charles want to hide away from that quickly hardening amber gaze any less.

He felt like a mouse being watched by a furious eagle.

That the eagle’s voice remained calm as he spoke did not reassure Charles in the slightest. His wife was too much like his father.

“I do believe you have something to tell me.”

Charles wished to answer. He opened his mouth and wished that sudden wisdom would strike upon him, that he would know how to traverse this field of traps that had suddenly sprung around him. But even as his loose tongue had brought him to this pass, that same tongue abandoned him now when he had most need of it.

After opening his mouth and trying to force words to form in his brain, Charles was forced to concede defeat and withdraw with nary a sound.

“If you will not speak, then perhaps I ought to make my own judgments on what I have learned.”

Charles cringed.

That was sure to go worse for him for sure. Connor had always thought the worst of him, sometime justified, other times not, and Charles had every reason to believe that his wife would follow that pattern now.

But try as he might, he could not think of a single thing to say, not a single way to explain himself away. And so he stayed silent with a frozen tongue and nervous eyes.

“So be it.”

Connor pursed his lips.

“I might wonder if you speak the truth or not, but given your distressing tendency to know truths that I do not, including ones you should have no means of knowing, then it seems futile for me to pit myself against you now. I can seek evidence and the commander himself to validate this claim you would hold against him.”

He paused, and Charles flinched as that gaze burned an even brighter shade of amber, verging on deadly gold.

“The larger question is, rather, what you mean by withholding such information for so long. We are allies, or so you would have me believe. And yet , for the one torment that you know of, for the one mystery that I have sought for so much of my life, you choose to withhold it from me until now.”

Pure gold now, surrounding the black pupil. The same eyes to be found on a bird of prey. Or a wolf.

“You know so much of me. So much that I did not tell you, and yet, you knew. You knew about my people, you could pronounce my name. You even knew about my childhood friends and the elders of my early years that no one else knows of.”

Those eyes turned away, and Charles breathed a sigh of relief, only to freeze as they swiveled back to glare at him.

“And so I must believe that you know how very important such information is to me, how very important it is to discover who wronged my people all those years ago and find out why.”

Connor turned away again, and Charles could see a fine tremor wrack that slender and muscled frame.

“And yet you hide it. Even now, even this admission now is accidental. I see that you do not mean to tell me, that it is due to your own poor control over your emotions that such information slipped away from you.”

He paused, and Charles quailed in the silence of that pause.

“Tell me something. What did you hope to gain from keeping silent about this? I know you did not do so for my benefit, for there is none to be had. Did you hope to spring it on me later such that I would kill the commander for you? Did you hope to turn me against him and have myself and the Brotherhood accused of treason? Is that it?”

Charles shook his head in horror. He should’ve thought so. He should’ve, as a Templar, been planning exactly that.

“No, I—“

Connor continued on as if he had not heard him.

From the way he trembled, Charles conceded that he might not have.

“Was it simple mirth? Do you enjoy watching me wonder and struggle for information that you are in possession of? Do you enjoy watching me wander confused after that which I still remember and still dream of, even to this day?”

Charles stared.

To go back to this, when he had made such progress and finally won some measure of trust...

He held out a hesitant hand to his wife. Connor flinched back as if burnt.

“Or do you mean to lure me into some kind of a trap? Have me run off to confront the commander and have you agents waiting to kill us both while we are distracted? Is this a lie to take advantage of my weakness? Is this what you are doing now, mining my stories for my weaknesses?”

The suspicion stung and angered Charles out of his own feelings of shame.

It was unfair. He’d even saved Connor’s life and now, because of a simple mistake...

He wanted to lash out. Wanted to make Connor feel as miserable and betrayed as he did now.

Was one slip of the tongue all it took to lose him his wife’s trust? Was Connor so fickle?

Charles thought about it and became even more angry.

Who was Connor to judge him so? To make all these wild and outlandish accusations?

A trap? Hah! As if Charles needed a trap to contain Connor. He could have killed him in Bridewell and no one except the Omega’s recruits would have been the wiser. With the knowledge he’d gained from the future, he could have ended their little war months ago, destroyed Connor’s recruits before they could become real threats, burn the Davenport Homestead to the ground.

He could have done all of that, so how dare Connor accuse him so?

He opened his mouth to respond to the accusations, to hurt Connor as much as he was hurt right now. An eye for an eye. That was how Charles operated.

But then he saw how those shoulders shook. He couldn’t see Connor’s face anymore. The boy was turned away from him, and his hair created a veil to hide him from Charles.

But he could see wet droplets on the hands clenched against thighs.

And the words on his tongue deserted him again, leaving him bare and alone.

Charles should really know that after Church's betrayal that trust and loyalty can take years to earn but seconds to destroy. I expected Connor's accusations and Charles to be furious with them, but did not expect Connor to actually break down like that.

Is it because he had really come to trust and like Charles, to let him things about himself that probably his own recruits didn't know, and been betrayed? Or is it because a part of him realizes that Lee is possibly telling the truth and is conflicted with his feelings for George?

Dying to know what happens next!

Mix of both really. :) And he's not 100% sure why he's so upset. I think it's mostly the sense of helplessness. Charles keeps flipping everything on Connor, and it's very destabilizing. Connor's lost his balance and is questioning everything, and I think he's scared.

I have so many things to say, but I will tell nothing. I cannot heave my heart into my mouth, as Cordelia says.

I don't know what you mean, by the way - it was an excellent chapter, as always. Charles and I are both speechless, as you can see. /takes Connor into a bear hug and pets gently/

Charles, you better loosen that tongue of yours now before things go completely awry.

Aw, thanks! :)

Yeah...Charles didn't manage to loosen his tongue. Still tongue-tied, the silly Alpha. :D

Not sure how I feel about this. The angst struck me as a bit forced, but hopefully, with practice, I'll be able to write it more naturally.

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 30 - Betrayal

Connor thought that nothing could surprise him. Nothing could hurt him. But this...

He clenched his jaw as he fought against the warmth in his eyes.

He would not show such weakness. He would not.

Wetness slid down his cheek, and his teeth ached with the pressure he forced on them.

It was ridiculous of him, and he knew it. It was ridiculous to get so upset over something so trivial.

A single piece of information, nothing more than that. And one that, when all was said and done, was really not that surprising.

The commander was a soldier, had been in the army for long before Connor knew him. He now served in the continental army, but he used to serve with the British army, clothed in the same red coats that they now took aim at.

That it was George Washington rather than another one of the generals was unexpected, but one did not rise quickly in the ranks as the commander did without making questionable judgments. That Connor’s people suffered from one of those questionable judgments was infuriating, but Connor knew enough of the world to understand how very much sense it all made.

Really, he did.

He bit his lip and tried to hold back the tremors he could feel crawling up his body.

He was not even sure he believed Charles Lee. The Alpha’s dislike of the commander was well-known, even by those wholly unaware of the Templar Order and their dislike of George Washington. It was completely possible that the Templar Alpha had thrown that accusation at Connor simply due to his own hatred of the commander.

To Connor’s dismay, the argument felt stale even within the confines of his own mind. The accusation having been blurted out, without any sense of care or thought or reflection...it was clear that it was what Charles Lee truly believed.

It did not mean it was true. Connor would not believe such slander until he had proof, until the commander confirmed it himself.

And if that happened...

If that happened, Connor was not sure what he would do.

He had meant what he said days earlier. He would be more careful in who he killed and why. Life, even the life of an enemy, was too precious to waste without thought. But such treachery, and by the commander of all people...

Connor could not think of this now. It was too much. He would think about it when he knew for sure.

Now was for something else.

Now was keeping at bay the utter sense of betrayal he felt.

Charles Lee had clearly known this for a while, if he blurted it out so. He had clearly known, or thought he had known, and made the decision not to tell Connor earlier. He knew so much about Connor, about his life and what he held dear, and to deliberately keep this from him was...

Connor had thought they were beginning to trust each other. He had thought that the Alpha was not as bad as he had thought, had even begun to like the man.

The Alpha had good stories and was very patient with Connor. Connor had detected very little trace of condescension in his voice, in the way he looked and interacted with Connor. They had saved each other’s lives and shared each other’s stories, and Connor had really thought that he had been wrong about the man.

That Charles Lee was a good man, following sometimes terrible goals. That the Alpha was rather likeable. That he would be an interesting comrade, a clever ally. A worthy companion.

The heat behind his eyes grew, and Connor wanted to ball his fists into his face. Instead he kept them locked against his thighs. He would not be weak. He would not.

And it was really nothing. He did not even understand why he felt so betrayed. It was not as if Charles Lee was one of his bosom friends.

He had only just come to know the Alpha better. They had even been enemies not so long ago!

Really, it was such a trifling matter to get so upset about, and Connor did not know why the wetness on his cheek grew slicker as the seconds flew by.

He was just so frustrated.

The Alpha had suddenly waltzed directly into his life only a few months ago and turned everything he knew upside down. He had proven himself innocent and shown that he knew much more about Connor and his life than Connor had ever believed possible. He had caused Connor to doubt his own commitments in life and question his Brotherhood’s stance in all things Templar, and then he had saved Connor’s life at great risk to his own.

And just when Connor was beginning to get used to this new paradigm and think of the Alpha as a real ally—as a friend—he did this.

And Connor’s entire world shook.

He could not trust his old ideals, he could not trust himself, he could not trust the knowledge he had thought he had, and now he cannot trust George Washington or Charles Lee? Or his father?

It had been different before. He could not trust Charles Lee or his father before, but they had been enemies then. Now, now they were supposed to be allies. Now he was finally beginning to trust and like them.

And who could he trust now? What would he trust now? If even a man such as George Washington was suspect, if such accusations were true...

Did Samuel Adams know of it? Did Achilles?

Was that why his mentor had not wanted him to share any information about their activities with George Washington?

Had everyone kept this from him?

Tremors seized his body, and Connor could not stop the shaking of his fists even as he kept them pressed tightly against his thighs.

No. He knew that to be false. His recruits, at least, would have had no way of knowing. And Achilles may be an old friend of Samuel Adams, but Connor knew him. He knew that his mentor would not keep such information from him. He knew it.

The trembling ceased somewhat.

But it was a heavy blow. And Charles Lee, that bastard Templar Alpha, spoke not a single word to explain.

And why should he? He clearly felt no compunction against keeping such a secret for who knew how long.

Connor suddenly felt stifled in the room.

Sickbay, a place for those recovering and a place for those dying. Connor was neither.

He needed to be away from it.

He needed to be away from Charles Lee.

He needed time to think without hating himself for his weakness in front of Charles Lee.

Connor abruptly stood and shoved the chair back to the table he had borrowed it from. He kept his face averted the entire time.

He did not want to see Charles Lee.

“I have chores to do. I will expect an explanation later.”

And with that, he hastily exited the room.

Charles Lee remained silent.

Aawww /pets Connor/ I imagine this is how he could have reacted in the canon after he was betrayed by both Washington and his father at the same time. Except canon!Connor had to rush off and save his people, but of course took out his grief and rage on those messengers you had to shoot (I so hated that mission and slow horses).

But wow... doubting Sam I could understand since the Sons of Liberty saw him as a comrade and a huge asset to their cause, but Achilles... wow. Once again, I love how you get into your characters' heads, there emotions are just so... intense and believable.

I wish Charles would have said something, show him the evidence, and explain that he was worried how Connor would react, but planned on telling him after the mission with Church.

/Shakes Charles/

//shakes Charles too//

yeah, the man is not very good at people relations. At all. :D

But yeah, Connor is questioning everything he knows, and even those he knows that Achilles wouldn't do something like that, he's very shaken right now.

//pets Connor//

yeah, the man is not very good at people relations. At all. :D

Figured he would have learned after being King. Then again this is the Omega he had loved and lost in his timeline, and is terrified of losing him again. Wonder if Charles can repair the damage before Connor goes off to confront George.

Re: In Pursuit of Happiness 30

(Anonymous) - 2013-06-13 07:03 (UTC) - Expand

Short chapter too, but wanted to get this part over with. Not too enthused with this section, so I'm hoping to get to a different section that will be less awkward to write.

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 31 - Distance

A part of Charles was expecting Connor to dump both he and Master Kenway at the port and wash his hands of them. He felt it as a very real threat, this knowledge that he had, as Hickey might put it, bulloxed everything up. After spending so much of his waking moments worrying and thinking and planning to get his wife back, he had failed because as of something as mercurial as his own fickle temper.

It was vexing.

Charles spent the hours after Connor left expecting his wife’s first mate to make his entrance at any moment, ready to make good his earlier threats and force him off the ship. He sat there, in his sickbed, stomach souring at the thought of losing this opportunity to be with his wife, of losing future opportunities to be with his wife.

So when one hour passed, then two and no Faulkner, no rough Alpha crew member came to force him off, Charles felt crushing relief rush through him.

He felt weak and thoughts whirled about his head. He wasn’t going to be forced off. He wasn’t going to lose this contact with his wife. He hadn’t done as much damage as he had thought.

And yet, right after the relief passed, right after the worry and anxiety left him, he felt uneasy. Tired. His monumental task of winning over his wife, already so difficult, was made all that much harder with how he had handled the recent revelation of Washington’s betrayal.

His wife had never been all that trusting of him. He had only begun that long process of beginning communication with his wife, connecting with him, bonding with him. And now it would be as if he never made that progress at all.

A thought occurred to him.

Would Connor even speak to him again? Listen to him as he tried to explain himself?

His wife had not tossed him from his presence as Charles had feared, but would he allow him to be near him? To repair the damage that he’d wrought?

It was agonizing, thinking about the rest of the sea journey without the rapport he’d been building with his wife. It was agonizing to think of Connor so nearby and yet completely out of reach.

And Master Kenway!

What would he think? What would he do to Charles for jeopardizing this one chance they had of saving his son? Charles’s mentor had his doubts about Charles’s relationship with his son, but Charles had seen how hope had welled up inside him. Despite his demeanor, despite his manner, Charles’s mentor wanted him to succeed as much as Charles wanted to succeed.

What would he do to Charles for such a senseless failure?

And that was really the heart of it. It wasn’t so much that Charles had done so much damage as the fact that he done all that damage because of something as ridiculous as his own inability to control his temper.

Charles clenched his hands into a fist.

He was tired, he was heartsick, and he would not lose his wife again. He’d do everything possible to correct this when next he saw Connor. He’d think of something to say, something to make up for his lead tongue earlier. He’d make up for his cowardice, of being too afraid to wrap his arms around his trembling wife and comforting Connor.

He’d win Connor back.

He had to.

----

Of course, all of his intentions was predicated on his seeing his wife again. But days later, after Master Kenway had shown up and admonished him for his utter stupidity and then stalked off in a stormy rage, Charles had yet to see his beloved wife.

He hadn’t planned for this. He’d thought that Connor would be furious with him, would want to rage at him and demand answers as he said he would.

This avoidance instead, this utter silence...Charles didn’t know how to deal with it.

How did one make amends to someone who never showed up?

If Charles were not still bedridden, if he were well, it would have been a simple matter of waiting on deck. Connor was the captain, and he was needed to steer the ship. It would have been a perfect way to force the meeting that Charles so desired.

Instead, the ship’s doctor kept him chained to his bed. He was not allowed out of sickbay by any means, and the one time he tried to sneak out, two of the crew had seen him and promptly escorted him right back.

Charles probably should have been grateful that they didn’t lock him in, but he was too frustrated to feel gratefulness.

He could not even get a hold of Master Kenway. After his mentor’s visit, Master Kenway had also decided not to visit, staying instead in his own quarters and above deck. Charles imagined the Alpha must have used his time to work his own persuasions on his son, to try and undo some of Charles’s damage, but a part of him knew that this was simply punishment.

And it made him feel resentful.

He’d given so much of his life, so much of his loyalty...and this was how he was repaid?

A single, albeit devastating, mistake. Did he not even deserve a second chance?

Both Master Kenway and his wife turning their backs on him so easily...did he really mean so little to them?

His thoughts were poisonous, and Charles knew they were poisonous, but, alone and abandoned as he was, it was difficult to hold them at bay.

God, he wanted to see his wife again. He needed this chance to win him over. He wanted to learn more about him and come to understand him and...

Caught up in his thoughts as he was, Charles missed the pale green glow coming from the pendant around his neck.

It wasn’t until the bright green washed over him and chased away all of his surroundings that Charles realized that he stood (stood!) in front of a very familiar white-clad figure.

Awww poor Charles, gotta learn how to control that anger. I actually feel bad for Haytham, cause Charles kind of ruined it for the both of them. At least Connor didn't strand them at the port and hope for some reconciliation before they return.

OMG Juno - ultimate matchmaker - is gonna show up and scold Charles as well. Can't wait to see their interaction, and wonder if she'll show him alternate futures as she did to Connor if they were to fail.

Yeah, Charles was stupid. He didn't even gain anything from that outburst. //shakes head// he really must learn to control his temper better. :)

kjsahjkhdcksa what a cliffhanger ;___;

It's funny though, how she wouldn't show up when Charles desperately wanted contact with Those Who Came Before, and now poof - they're stirring things up again. Very excited to see if they will give some advice to Charles...

Hehehe. :D I'm glad you like. Charles will get some...rather interesting...learning experiences.

Wow, I think this is going to end up my longest story yet…

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 32 - Woman in White

Charles’s heart thudded painfully against his chest, and he reached out a hand to touch those white sleeves. He froze for a moment when, instead of fabric, his hands met only with air.

Frantically, he began grasping at the figure, desperate to feel something, to touch something.

Nothing.

All his efforts were for naught, and his hand soon dropped in defeat.

“Connor,” he whispered, staring at that beloved form standing so close to him, so still.

Was this how it was to be? Was this how it was always to be?

“You cannot expect otherwise, I am sure,” came a voice from behind him.

Charles whirled around, hand immediately going to his belt for his pistol before he realized that he was dressed in only the nightshirt he had worn since his injury. Not that a pistol would have been much help against the powerful figure that stood before him anyways.

The pale woman with long dark hair smiled humorlessly at him. Her eyes were hooded and uncaring, and Charles shuddered at the disdain in her icy golden eyes.

Strange how such eyes so similar to his wife’s could look so menacing on this phantom of the past.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Charles hedged, edging away from that terrifying form.

The woman merely smiled again.

Charles opened his mouth to ask what she meant by appearing to him now when she had not before when she suddenly vanished. He blinked instead, not sure what had happened.

“You are such a curious man, so domineering and so forceful and yet with so much potential that you would squander away.”

The voice came from behind him, and Charles spun back around again. He nearly gasped at the sight of the flowing white dress right next to him. If he had taken a single step backward, he would have walked right into the woman.

“Do you always perform such theatrics?” he asked, trying frantically to calm his beating heart.

She tilted her head in a manner that should have been endearing. It would have been, had she not that that empty expression on her face that made her wholly alien and unrecognizable.

She considered him for a moment.

“I do like that you are not the meek fools that most of humanity is.”

It was a backhanded compliment, but Charles could only shudder at the coldness in her eyes as she said it. It was clear that she did not consider him worthy of consideration.

And he would have liked nothing better than to escape her presence had it not occurred to him that there were questions he wanted answered. Questions that he could now take the opportunity to ask.

“No, I do not.”

“Pardon?” Charles looked around, expecting to see another phantom like her appear.

He could see nothing but the phantom and that painfully beloved form still standing only a little ways away.

“You wished to know if I work against your Order and favor those of my blood. I do not.”

Charles blinked.

“You read my mind?”

The phantom looked at him with boredom.

“I forget that you humans can be so limited.”

She disappeared again, and Charles jumped at the cool touch on his hand.

“Come.”

And the world suddenly rushed at Charles.

He instinctively grabbed the woman’s hand, nails digging into the soft flesh as they traveled quickly.

She did not even flinch.

“You cannot hurt me. I am beyond your comprehension.”

Charles frowned at that. It was unnerving speaking with someone capable of reading one’s mind.

“It would have been better to mix my line with someone more worthy, but you have the ability to become an apt candidate.”

There it was again. Those troubling mentions of blood and line.

And Charles really did not want to draw that connection, to complete the inference, but it was difficult not to.

“Of course. Eyes like these are not natural to your people. Only those of my blood have these abilities.”

That was really what Charles had been hoping she would not say. He shuddered at the thought of this creature sharing blood with his mentor and his wife.

“There would be no reason for my interest otherwise, and you would not have the insight to correct your behavior.”

Charles turned to look at her, trying his best to ignore the world whirling away from them.

“So you are interest in helping Connor because of his blood?” he asked.

“No.”

She said it so casually, in such a disinterested manner.

Charles despised her.

“You are not the first and not close to the most powerful.”

He would love to meet the most powerful then.

Those gold eyes continued staring forward, not even looking at him.

“You would not. She would do anything to keep me from life, even if it means sacrificing most of your people to disaster.”

Charles blinked again. Was she suggesting...?

“Minerva does not care for me. And she would condemn most of humanity to death to defeat me. The only way to stop her is the son of my line.”

Connor...?

“No, not he. But one who will be born from the son he brings into this world.”

So that was why she was interested in Connor. And likely why she brought him back to the past to change things.

It did not explain why she was here now.

Her face contorted, and Charles was taken aback to see the first sign of real emotion on her face.

“You are a fool who would destroy my millennia of hard work.”

What...?

The hand in his abruptly jerked itself away, and Charles found himself falling.

He looked around wildly, searching for something to grasp, for something to grab onto. Anything to stop his fall.

Nothing.

“Of course there is nothing. Why do you think you deserve something?”

Charles jerked his head up, and there was the woman, falling calmly above him.

“You are a ridiculous Alpha, unable to learn from your mistakes. Tell me, do you take pleasure in destroying my descendant’s ability to trust and have a family?”

Charles snarled. He had not done that intentionally. He had never meant to hurt his wife.

The woman vanished again.

“You do enjoy lying to yourself,” the voice came from below him. Charles’s eyes widened in shock to see her directly below him.

“I do not,” he replied back. “I love him—“

“How can you?”

Charles’s eyes went wide to see Master Kenway smile up at him.

He gulped as his mentor sensuously pressed himself against Charles’s still falling body.

“You do not know him, Charles. You had him for less than a single year before he killed himself. You knew nothing of the leader he was, the mother he ought to have been, the lover he could have been. You knew nothing of any of his abilities besides his ability to kill.”

Charles flushed.

It hurt that this phantom would repeat MasterKenway’s words to him using Master Kenway’s face and body. It hurt that his weakness for his mentor was so exposed.

With effort, Charles pushed the likeness of his mentor away from him. “No, you’re wrong. I knew the loyal Assassin he was. I knew the fighter he was. I knew—“

The phantom who wore Master Kenway’s form disappeared. Charles looked around wildly. He needed to watch out for what would appear next.

“So paranoid.”

Charles looked up again, eyes widening at the sight of those warm amber-brown eyes.

The world blinked, and Charles was suddenly in his own home. In...

Connor’s room.

As he was gawking at the sight of that familiar room that he had not thought to see again, Connor walked right past him.

Charles grew cold to see the knife in his hands.

“Don’t,” he began, taking a single step forward.

The knife pointed right at him, and he stopped.

“Did you know,” his wife whispered, “that saving George’s life was only one of the reasons I killed myself?”

He drew back the knife and stared at it in consideration.

“I really couldn’t bear it anymore. Being your wife, feeling your odious touch upon my body...”

Charles lunged for the knife.

He ran right through that beloved form and crashed into the bed behind him.

“So crass,” that beloved voice came from behind him. “Is that the only thing on your mind? Rutting?”

Charles flushed and turned himself around with difficulty, the sheets entangling him as he struggled to rise.

“You really just want me to be a doll for you, don’t you? Just a living, breathing doll that you can fuck whenever you choose. Just something to breed children for you and your Order and that can never go against you.”

No. No that wasn’t...

Charles flailed as he tried to rid himself of those blasted sheets. How were they so restrictive?

“My, you lie to yourself so much, that you even come to believe it now. Such a stupid Alpha.”

Charles snarled.

This wasn’t Connor. This wasn’t the beautiful young man that wanted to be able to trust him. This wasn’t the mother of his child. This was...

“Of course it is.” And the sheets suddenly fell off of him.

Freed at last, Charles stood and whirled around to face his tormentor.

“Tormentor? I would hardly call myself that,” said the woman in white. Her smile, Charles was disgusted to see, was the same blank, slightly condescending look she had used with him this entire time.

“I simply remind you of the truth.”

“What truth?” Charles spat.

She shook her head sadly.

“The truth you refuse to see. The truth you would sooner close your eyes on than look at.”

No, the woman lied. He was not so cowardly as to refuse to view the truth. He was—

“Obstinate. Blind. Jealous.”

The first and the last he would give her, but the second was ridiculous.

“It cannot continue on like this. I have invested too much into my plan, into my descendants, for something like this to come to pass.”

“So you can defeat Minerva?” Charles growled at her.

She laughed.

“Oh no. Both Minerva and I are the progenitors of the one who needs to make the decision. We both need him alive and well. It is what decision he makes that will ultimately affect me.”

Charles clenched his teeth in frustration.

To think of this woman should play around with the lives of his and Connor’s descendants as she was doing with him...It was unthinkable.

“Oh no,” she corrected. “It need not be your descendant at all. I had originally thought you the best choice, but it seems that I may have made a mistake.”

Charles grew cold. She couldn’t be suggesting what he thought she was.

“I am. You squandered your chance, even with my help, and I see no reason to reward you now. I will need to find someone else to help bring about the future.”

“You called me here to—“

“—warn you to leave my descendant be. Return the amulet to those of my blood. It is not for you. He is not for you.”
.
“No.”

Wow, Juno is so merciless, but I love how not even she can stop Charles from pursuing Connor. Though I do find it interesting that she chose him over George... I'm not sure if this is historically accurate, but perhaps George was impotent... well not him, but his little soldiers were. So if Connor and George could not have children, there would be no Desmond in the future to save the world.

Wonder if Juno will let Charles go back to the living world, or if she'll continue to torture him some more.

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(Anonymous) - 2013-06-15 05:44 (UTC) - Expand

Holy fucking shit. Please excuse my bad language.

Juno is scary and a manipulative bitch - which I shouldn't mind in this case, but it doesn't alter the fact that she is. I wonder if she's trying to nudge him into action through scare tactics though. Guess I'll wait to find out...

This was an awesome chapter, anon, and I personally really don't mind the length of this story, especially now that you've given it so much intro with so much consideration for each step. It would be a shame to end it abruptly. But it's ultimately your decision - I'll certainly be here until the very end, regardless of what you decide <3

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(Anonymous) - 2013-06-15 15:41 (UTC) - Expand

In Pursuit of Happiness

Chapter 33 - Open Eyes

The woman’s face never changed. She was still as severe in that dispassionate way she had been before. That did not stop the tremor that made its way up Charles’s spine.

“I see.”

The world around Charles flashed, and he suddenly found himself surrounded by many people. There was a woman sitting on the bench next to him, pretty and brown-haired and elegant in the way female Omegas often were. She looked ecstatic. On his other side was a burly Alpha man, obviously a metalworker of some sort. He looked boisterous and happy and glowed with anticipation and pride. And up in front, standing in the aisle was...

Washington.

Charles growled at the sight of the man, finely dressed and fidgeting nervously. He kept looking towards the door, as if he was expecting someone.

The sights meshed together in Charles’s brain and clicked into a coherent image. And all the blood drained out of his face as he realized where he was.

The chapel. Where he had...

As if on cue, those large doors that Washington had been watching so anxiously opened, and Charles’s Omega walked in.

Despite himself, Charles felt his heart thud painfully at how beautiful Connor looked. He was absolutely radiant, a content and happy look on his face and dressed impeccably in his white uniform.

His beautiful Omega, who was only his due to brutality and humiliation.

Charles swallowed and felt bile rise in his throat.

He didn’t want to watch this. He didn’t want to watch what he had done—

“So afraid of your own handiwork?”

The woman. Face calm as ever, and eyes watching that beautiful white-clad form so disinterestedly. Not a single trace of emotion for what was about to happen.

“Stop this,” Charles whispered.

“I see no reason to.”

Charles bit his lip as Connor began walking down the aisle.

No.

He didn’t want to see his Connor so broken and humiliated. He didn’t want to see the suffering that he knew would be on his wife’s face.

That he put there.

“Please stop this,” he begged again. “Showing this—what does it accomplish?”

The woman looked unconcerned and continued staring at the wedding procession with empty eyes.

“You do not understand what you truly feel. You do not understand what kind of person you truly are. It is time that you see.”

“No!” Charles shouted. “I do! I do understand what I did. I—“

A sudden movement caught his eye. Charles looked only to see himself darting into the room.

Eyes frantic and wide, he quickly looked around and spotted all of the lower ranked Templars he had brought with him that day. Edwards slid silently behind Israel Putnam, well out of sight of all the Assassins, and aimed a pistol at one of them.

Charles turned back to the woman.

“Stop. Just stop before—“

A gasp, a scream.

Out of the corner of his eye, that beautiful white-clad form collapsed to the ground even as Washington shouted out.

Charles turned just in time to see himself, blade to Washington’s throat, pistol to the Alpha’s temple.

“I am not here for you,” his other self taunted the commander.

Charles marched forward, determined to stop this. He would stop this. He would stop this travesty before—

He grabbed at Washington, grabbed at his past self. To his frustration, his hands passed right through the forms.

“You fiend,” Washington murmured in horror as he looked through Charles.

Charles followed the man’s eyes and turned to see the dead cooling body of Achilles Davenport right behind him. The man’s eyes seemed to stare accusingly at him, and Charles took a horrified step backwards as he noticed that he was standing right in a pool of the man’s blood.

“Long ago we warned the old man not to get involved in our affairs ever again,” his other self stated. “He did not listen.”

Charles turned wide eyes on him.

Had he really sounded so uncaring then? Had he truly been so unaffected?

“Please,” Washington begged. “I will step down as Commander-in-Chief. You can have my title and position in the Continental Army. Just let us go. I will take Connor away. We will never interfere with you and yours again. Please...”

Charles closed his eyes at the Alpha’s painfully raw pleas.

Behind him, he heard the shifting of cloth, and he turned to see his beloved wife open dazed and confused amber-brown eyes.

He turned back to the woman, still dispassionately watching them all.

“Please don’t do this,” he whispered. “I’m begging you. Please stop this.”

The woman tilted her head curiously at him. Those alien eyes, so golden and yellow and empty, stared at him.

“Do you not want this to continue? Do you not want to have my descendant as your own?”

“Yes, I want him!” Charles cried. “But I never want him like this again. I never want to put him through this again!”

And it was true. He had hated Connor back then, wanted nothing more than to humiliate and torture and break him. And he had succeeded admirably. But during all that time, watching and having and being near the young man, he’d slowly come to hate him less. And then he’d grown fond of him. And at the end, he’d fallen in love with him.

“I care for him,” Charles whispered.

He let out a shaky breath. “You’re right in that I don’t know as much of him as I would like. You and Master Kenway both are right that there is so much I do not know, so much that I wasn’t privy to. But that doesn’t stop me from caring about him and loving the parts that I have seen. And that doesn’t stop me from loving the parts that I’m just learning about now.”

The woman remained silent.

Charles plowed on. “I saw him recently commanding his ship. He was imposing, strong, a natural leader. I never thought I would seek that in a wife, but I can’t help admiring it in him. I would be proud to have such a wife, such a unique and capable individual. And when we landed on the island in search of Church, it was him that discovered where Church was, him that thought of the plan to draw our enemies out, and him who took on most of the task of engaging Church’s men and taking them out.”

“You rescued him then,” the woman pointed out.

“Yes,” Charles responded, “but I was amazed at his abilities and inspired by his cleverness and strategic mind. To learn this about him, to learn that he is a leader and a fighter and a tactician and a wonderful captain, I...”

His voice softened.

“I know he frustrates me sometimes. His devotion to Washington, his slowness to trust me and the thought that he would be perfectly fine without me. He challenges me when I least expect it and has annoying first mates who enjoy sticking their noses where they don’t belong. But his greater self is mesmerizing and even if I didn’t love him then, I am falling in love with him right now. So please don’t—“

“It’s your wedding day, isn’t it? I would hate to keep a bride from his wedding rites,” his past self smirked from behind Charles.

No.

“Well Father? Will you begin the rites?”

“Stop,” Charles whispered, whirling around to face the chaplain.

“This is travesty, this is—“

A gunshot burst through the protests, and Washington grunted in pain.

Charles’s other self shrugged. “Are you sure about that?”

“No!” Charles rushed at his other self.

He ran right through the phantom and hit the ground on the other side.

“D-do you, Charles Lee, t-take t-this—” the chaplain began.

“No, I don’t!” Charles screamed. “Not like this.”

“Yes, yes, get on with it,” his other self smirked.

“D-do you, Connor Kenway, t-take this—man—to be your l-lawfully w-wedded h-h-husband?”

Charles turned anguished eyes onto Connor, pale-faced and trembling. He looked as if he could not fully believe what was happening.

Charles could not believe this was happening. Not again. Never again.

His other self cocked the pistol at Washington again.

“Yes,” Connor whispered, softly. Weakly. “Yes, I do.”

Charles had never heard him sound so defeated.

Except once. When this had actually happened.

Oh God, it had happened in his past. In Charles’s past.

It had actually happened.

Charles slid to the ground in horror.

He, he was a monster.

“T-then by t-the p-powers vested w-within me, I n-now p-pronounce y-you h-h-husband and w-w-wife,” the chaplain stuttered from behind him.

His other self smirked. “Aren’t you going to say and now you may kiss the bride?”

Charles clenched his hands into fists.

He was so cruel that day. So very, very cruel.

“What—?“

“Why don’t we get started on our nuptial duties immediately…honey.”

Charles closed his eyes. Around him, he could hear the motions of a body being forced to the ground and cloth being ripped.

To know that he did this, that he had been so hateful...

"Just enjoy the show, Commander," Edwards whispered from behind him, no doubt at the still-restrained Washington.

For the first time in his life, Charles felt sympathy for the other Alpha. He knew what was coming, what would happen at any moment. And it was horrifying. To be forced to watch as one of the people most dear to him was brutalized in such a way...

A scream. Rough laughter from his men around him. A litany of “no’s” and “stop’s” harshly jarred into a terrible and familiar rhythm. The sound of futile struggling.

He was a monster.

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