Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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Part 1
Part 2
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Fill: Who Will Save You Now? [2/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Once again Connor finds himself surprised by the laxness of the fort's security. Its outermost wall is tough, yes, but the cityward side doesn't even reach the water. There's a good foot or two of solid land left on either side of the thick, stone battlements which makes it relatively easy to slip into the fort from Boston, and vice versa. That makes a sort of sense, he supposes, Southgate's function is to keep attackers out of the city rather than keep people in. Something of a flaw in design, but it is a useful flaw nonetheless.

His whistle barely has a chance to sound before the first hooded figure detaches themselves from the shadows of a clump of buildings across the wide, empty square. A second, slightly shorter individual, is quick to follow. Thanks to the infiltration party there appear to be no guards left on this side of the gate to get in the way. It is a deceptively easy start for the pair. Connor wonders if they have any idea of what awaits inside the fort, of what potentially stands in the way of their assignment here. Regardless, he is glad to see them again. Some of the unease he's felt these last few days dissipates, although he knows that he won't feel entirely comfortable again until he has his own weapons and his own robes back. He still feels far too exposed to be at ease.

Worry is clear on both faces when they join him at the wall, the delay was noted. Neither of them looks particularly impressed by his condition, although he knows it could have been a lot worse. Apart from a bruise to the face and the painfully chaffed wrists the teenager is essentially fine. In fact, he's ended up with much more serious injuries in training, they all have. But this is different, of course, and so it stirs up all of his older companions' protective feelings. He is tougher than they give him credit for though. Fortunately the relief of seeing him walking around in one piece works quickly to dispel any lingering concerns.

While Connor is slightly the worse for wear, neither Duncan nor Dobby have changed in the least. His attempts to grow a beard are still bearing limited success, while her hair is just as short and raggedly cut as ever. Even the mud splatter on the hems of their robes seem unchanged. It shouldn't surprise him but these three days in captivity have felt like months. He feels tired.

Something serious must immediately show in his expression, as the pair exchange a quick glance before the Irishman leans in closer and lowers his voice to inquire: 'What's wrong? Did somebody see you escape? Do they know we're coming?'

'No, no, nothing like that. There is...' It takes a few moments to figure out how to adequately sum up the situation. He sighs. 'There has been a complication.'

'A complication?' Raising an eyebrow and folding her arms, the former pickpocket is clearly unsatisfied with the attempt at an explanation. Beside her Duncan's frown deepens.

Very conscious that giving them the whole thing from the start will take far too long, Connor knows that he has to be blunt. There isn't any way he can put this that will soften the impact after all. Taking a deep breath, he gives voice to the word that has been plaguing him since he first caught sight of the watcher on the rooftop. 'Templars. Six of them.'

The effect is immediate. While Duncan instantly goes as pale as a sheet, Dobby gives a long, low whistle. Naturally they all know the gravity of this 'complication', they know that just how much danger that word carries with it. They've heard all the stories, but as of yet none of them have ever encountered anything more than mercenaries acting on behalf of the Order. This is something for which they are essentially unprepared. Even Achilles or one of the other fully fledged Assassins would hesitate here.

It is Duncan who finally breaks the silence. 'In the fort?'

Connor nods. 'Looking for Silas.'

'Christ.' His hands go to his head as he begins to pace backwards and forwards. The oldest of the three, by only a few years, he is considered to be the de facto leader here and thus responsible for the others. It's a duty that Duncan takes very seriously. 'You're absolutely sure they're Templars?'

'Certain.' As much as he wishes he weren't. There simply is no other explanation. 'I have seen them kill, there can be no doubt about it.'

'Then we need to get moving.' Straightening up, Dobby takes several steps in the direction of the main building in which their target is holed up. The decision is made as far as she is concerned, but as it becomes clear that they aren't following she turns and adds: 'I don't know about you two, but I don't much fancy the idea of going home empty-handed. Not from this one.'

Her meaning would have been clear even if she hadn't glanced tellingly at Connor when she spoke. Admittedly the idea of having spent days in captivity for nothing is an unpleasant one, but he also remembers the ruthless efficiency with which these men kill. Yet if they turn back now they will lose the chance to obtain valuable information. And that is a setback the Brotherhood can ill afford considering.

Duncan meanwhile stands his ground, very much concerned by the possibility of a conflict. 'Half a dozen Templars weren't part of the plan.'

This argument could easily go in circles for hours, both of them are certainly stubborn enough. So really it falls to Connor to break the deadlock, and quickly. How Assassins can ever work in even numbers when on equal terms is quite beyond him. Some degree of stubbornness seems to be pretty much an obligatory characteristic for entry into the Brotherhood.

'Plans change.' He cuts in firmly. 'Their aim seems to be to free the captives first, which is going to take time. If you can get Silas to talk fast then they shouldn't have to know we were ever here.'

Even with the majority opinion against him, Duncan hesitates. But the fact remains that he is outnumbered, and the assignment remains an important one. He spends some moments weighing up the options before he holds his hands up in defeat. 'Okay, we'll try it. Dobs, you'll come with me to have a little chat with the commander. Connor, you keep an eye on these Templars of yours. If they start heading our way cause a distraction, buy us as much time as you can. But stay safe.'

Inexplicably pleased with the decision, Dobby smiles and claps the taller novice round the shoulder. 'Atta boy. This'll be over before you know it.'

'That'd be what concerns me.' He shrugs her off gently, wasting no time as he swiftly sets about scaling the rampart. Surprisingly that appears to be the quickest surreptitious route to Silas' rooms, not that it's an easy task by the looks of it.

Together the pair of them watch him scramble up the masonry. Upon reaching the ledge he pauses momentarily, listening, before abruptly hauling himself up and over onto the top of the battlement. His robes have barely swished out of sight when the body of a redcoat tumbles to the ground in front of them. A quick, silent kill.

'All things considered that tomahawk of yours isn't the best idea right now, so you're gonna have to make do with this for the time being.' Turning back to her remaining companion, Dobby pulls a knife from the inside of her boot and offers it to him. She must have picked it up off a target. As he takes it she pats his shoulder and lowers her voice to offer a final piece of advice; 'Stick any of the bastards who come near you.'

'Deborah.' Coming from above, Duncan's harsh, impatient whisper startles them both. His hooded head is visible craning down at them from one of the battlement's gaps.

There is little that annoys the female novice so much, or gets her so quickly back on task, as calling her by her given name. She bristles slightly, glaring back up at him. With a last, parting pat on the arm Dobby strides purposely towards the wall and launches herself up the stonework. Already knowing where to put her hands and feet, she scales it quickly and soon vanishes over the top. He is left alone again.

All in all that went about as well as expected. Connor can't say that he's thrilled to be consigned to the grounds of the fort, but at least he's finally armed. On closer examination the knife proves to be nondescript, anonymous, yet of a good quality nonetheless. It's the sort of weapon that won't give him away as anything more than he appears to be. Perfect when he's liable to run into the Templar infiltrators again before the day is done. Reassured, he slips quietly away from the wall.

Cautiously he retraces his earlier steps, acutely aware now of the quietness that seems to hang over Southgate. Hopefully freeing captives poses more difficulty for the invaders than picking off redcoats did. Flattening to the ground to avoid a patrol, Connor tries to figure out just how much time Duncan and Dobby will need. Interrogations take time and Silas does not seem the type to give ready answers. He settles on a course of action, deciding that it is better to stake out the gate than go actively searching for the Templars. Picking a good spot from which he has a clear view of the approach to the fort's wall, and the building in which its commander resides, the teenager makes sure to swipe a stray musket, which lay discarded beside a pile of hay, before settling down to watch and wait.

For several good long minutes nothing happens. Connor sits and tries to stop his mind from constantly wandering back to the watcher, the Templar leader. The man didn't seem all that evil. But appearances can be deceiving, he knows that. Liberating captives cannot be their true aim here, there has to be an ulterior motive. What is it they could possibly stand to gain by this? What game are they playing?

He is no closer to an answer when the sound of footsteps disturbs him. Two redcoats walk past his hiding place, heading towards the gate. Only half listening to their conversation as they move away, he initially doesn't pay them much heed.

'Say, ain't that the delivery cart over there?' One interrupts the other.

As he sees the men stop in their tracks, both frowning in the direction of the abandoned vehicle, Connor's heart sinks. After some consideration the second soldier replies; 'That it is. I thought Jones was supposed to come get us when the merchandise arrived.'

'I haven't seen hide nor hair of him all day. And that cart looks awfully empty to me...' He pauses, clearly thinking and weighing up options. Abruptly he turns to his comrade and orders; 'Raise the alarm.'

Before he can think to stop himself, Connor has thrown the knife. It buries itself neatly in the back of the first redcoat and he rather wishes that Dobby had given him more than just the one. It's certainly one way to create a distraction.

Re: Fill: Who Will Save You Now? [2/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Not OP, but anon is super enjoying this. :)

Your Connor already seems somewhat torn with regards to that dashing man who rescued him (hehe), but unfortunately is an enemy. And I can't wait to read Haytham's reaction to the fact that Connor is an Assassin.

It's like star-crossed lovers! X_X