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asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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FILL 26/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-02 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)How do I grammar?
Achilles doesn't say anything for a while, and Connor doesn't want to see the look of disappointment and disgust that must be etched upon his face. They sit in silence for too long, and eventually Achilles asks the question Connor does not want to answer.
"How?"
There is confusion and sorrow in his voice, rather than the scepticism and derision he had expected. He shuts his eyes and tries not to remember too vividly.
"Starved me for a couple of days. Beat me until I could not move. He had a pole, dug it into my throat from behind so I could not scream. Almost broke my back."
"He?"
"Charles Lee," he says, voice cracking. "I was in a bad way afterwards. I could not sleep or eat or speak. And when I was at my weakest, he struck again, and I could not do anything to stop him."
Achilles is silent for a moment more, and when he next speaks, his voice is filled with quiet rage and venom,
"We'll kill him, Connor. Slowly and painfully."
"The truce..." Connor mutters.
"Damn the truce! Lee clearly doesn't care for it!"
"He's one of the least powerful Templars in the Inner Circle. He's not important. We have a chance. We might finally have peace."
"At what cost? Think, child! He broke you and that is too great a cost for anything."
"We cannot put my life above all those in this land. Or any of the countries we might end up at war with. We need peace," Connor argues, not sure what it is he's even arguing for, or even what he believes.
"You're more important than all of them," Achilles snarls. "Think, boy! Peace built upon the suffering of others isn't really peace at all."
"Please, Achilles," Connor begs. "Wait. Just a few months. I... I get on well with Haytham. With the truce, I think I can--"
"He let Lee violate you!"
"No, no, he was not there when it happened. He has no idea. We are friends. In a manner of speaking. If I can manipulate him, I can discredit Lee and you can take revenge on him all you like."
Achilles looks somewhat calmer, though still unhappy.
"You're playing a dangerous game, boy. What makes you so sure you can manipulate him? He's the Grand Master. He knows more about mind games that the man that invented them."
Connor almost forgets to breathe. He's mentioned a few times, offhand, that he and Haytham are not related after all, but to tell Achilles the full truth really would kill him. So he bluffs, and tells half-truths, hating himself for not being honest.
"We are similar in a lot of ways. In how we think and act. If we had met under different circumstances, I believe we would have been very close friends. I will, of course, need to be subtle, but... "
"If you think you can do it, I believe you," Achilles says. "Just... be careful. I don't want to lose you."
"Then," Connor starts, slowly. "Then I will return to the Order. In a few weeks, that is. At first, it will be about the truce, planning and co-ordinating the Order and the Brotherhood. And then, after a few more weeks, perhaps months, I will tell them I have doubts about the Brotherhood. Eventually, I can pretend to have become a Templar. Does that sound good so far?"
Achilles gives him a nod.
"It's better than your plans usually are."
He wonders how he's going to tell Achilles that he isn't coming back to the Brotherhood. He doesn't need to be a Templar to be with Haytham, simply not an Assassin. He can do that. He can back out of this stupid war when his village is safe.
He has money and resources. He could live off the land, or buy a small house in Philadelphia or Boston or some other city. Haytham would surely visit often. The recruits would probably insist on stopping by every now and then. Achilles, after the initial shock, might allow him to visit the homestead every few months.
It's a good plan.
"About the recruits..." he says, hesitantly. "I do not mind if they know about... if you tell them. They probably already suspect. Or want to know. Just... please do not treat me any differently than usual. I am not as broken as you think."
Achilles nods, silently, and lets him stay the night in his room, curled up on his blue travelling mat. It's the best night's sleep he has had since he left the Templar headquarters.
...
The next morning is awkward and difficult. Three days of constant activity meant that Connor's sleep had been long and deep, and by the time he awakens, it is almost midday. He curses himself and Achilles for letting him sleep so late, and finds Dobby in the kitchen, helping Duncan prepare that day's lunch.
"Good morning," he says. "Have you seen Achilles?"
He regrets telling Achilles that it's all right for the others to know what happened. The looks on their faces make it clear that they pity him, that they don't know what to say or do. He does not want pity. Dobby is the first to plaster on a smile.
"He went to Boston. To look for a doctor, I think. Clipper and Stefane went with him."
"Oh. He didn't mention being ill..." Connor begins, then stops at the pained face Duncan is making. "The doctor isn't for Achilles, is he?"
Dobby shakes her head.
"No."
So the doctor is for him. Connor almost does not want to ask the next question, but he needs to know.
"He told you everything, didn't he?"
Dobby looks away, and Duncan answers this time.
"Yes, he did. For what it's worth, I... we're all very sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says, still standing in the doorway. "Do you need me to get anything? I am going out."
Duncan shakes his head.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"The Aquila. She has not sailed in some time. I need to sort some business with Faulkner, and send some convoys to Boston and New York, and pick up the new orders from Lance and Big Dave and... there is a lot to do."
"We can help," Dobby says, eager to do something to help Connor. "Just say the word."
"Well," Connor begins, hesitantly. "If you could find a courier, and have the letters on the desk in the study sent, I would be very grateful."
"Done!" She all but sprints toward the study, and Duncan covers the food with clean towels and dishes.
"I'll come with you to the ship. I need the fresh air," Duncan says, in such a way that Connor cannot refuse. He nods reluctantly, and shrugs on a jacket over his clothes, and puts on his tricorn. He hasn't worn his robes since he returned. He cannot commit himself to their cause.
"So," Duncan starts, conversationally, as they leave the manor. "Do you know who your real Da is? You said before, Wednesday, I think, that Kenway isn't..."
"I do not know," Connor cuts him off, quietly. "A white man, certainly. Other than that..."
"Ah. So your Ma... lied to you? Was mistaken?"
"I think she was raped, and she had to tell me something when I started wondering why all the other children had two parents and I did not. I do not know what she planned to tell me in future. She died when I was four."
Duncan is silent a moment, obviously not knowing what to say.
"I... I'm sorry to hear that."
"You have no reason to apologise. You had nothing to do with it."
Duncan looks uncomfortable, and tries again, with quite possibly the stupidest question he could have asked. Connor can see him give himself a mental scolding for it as soon as the words leave his mouth.
"Uh... so, out of curiosity, how do you know your father was white?"
"It is not obvious to Colonists, I know," Connor begins, humouring Duncan's awkward attempts at conversation as they near the dock. "But compared to the others in my village, my skin is fairly light. I do not tan as easily as my childhood friends. My eyes are a different kind of brown, and my hair has a different texture. There are many such tiny differences between myself and those of my village."
Duncan nods, evidently not seeing what Connor is describing. He doesn't say anything for a long time. He sits on a log, just far enough from Connor and Faulkner to be out of earshot.
"I am going to leave again, on urgent business, and I do not know if I will return," Connor says, hoping Duncan can't lipread. "I would like to, but in the meantime, please take over my duties as captain of the Aquila, and take care of the business Achilles and I have built."
Faulkner looks confused at first, then horrified.
"Where on earth are you going, boy?"
"I cannot say. Please do not tell any but the crew what I have told you. The others know I am leaving, but there are circumstances they do not know of that are beyond my control," Connor says, more urgently. "It may be that I have to leave the Homestead permanently, though I have no wish to."
Faulkner looks very unhappy, but he eventually agrees. Connor has long since earnt his trust and respect. He has only been captain of the Aquila for three short years, but those years were the best of his life, and the crew are like family to him.
He decides not to say anything to those living in Davenport. He will come and visit secretly, once he has sorted everything out.
It's all going to be fine. It's all going to be fine.
He repeats the mantra to himself over and over, but he doesn't have the heart to believe it.
...
When Achilles gets back, he forces Connor to sit with him at the dining table and puts several glass bottles in front of him, medicines he bought from an apothecary after a long visit to a doctor specialising in violence and damaged minds.
"Damaged minds?" Connor gives Achilles the most disgusted glare he can muster.
"I don't mean that you're insane. Far from it," Achilles says, as calmly as he can. "After violent events, there is always something left behind. Memories that are unwanted. Sudden fears. Nightmares. Out of character behaviour. Believe me, boy, I know these things. As assassins, we experience many violent events. Some of us more than others."
Connor scowls, but listens anyway. Achilles explains the drugs' purposes carefully- the largest bottle is a sleeping agent, meant to be diluted in water before going to bed. The smaller bottles are calming drugs. One is a preventative, and the smallest vial is for the heart-stopping attacks of panic and terror that could mean death for an assassin.
"Use them carefully," Achilles all but begs. "I want to see you get better."
Connor promises and makes a show of preparing and taking the sleeping draught, and thinks that he is not going to need the smallest vial for very long. After all, he's going to be out of this conflict soon.
Re: FILL 26/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-02 10:40 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 26/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-03 01:59 am (UTC)(link)Damn, I really hope Haytham gets some measure of comeuppance!
Re: FILL 26/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-03 05:42 am (UTC)(link)I kind of wish that Achilles will find out the whole story of what happened to Connor. I think he'll probably be more upset that Connor had relations with a Templar, over the fact that Connor doesn't exclusively want to bed women. I mean, the Assassins always struck me as a fairly accepting lot. I think that right now, Achilles, the recruits, Faulkner and the rest of the Aquila's crew, and the homesteaders are Connor's best hope of truly healing.
I hate Haytham so much right now >:( *shakes fist*
(There should be another chapter of the fic I'm writing for you soon, btw!)
fillanon
(Anonymous) 2013-01-03 04:10 pm (UTC)(link)