asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Entry tags:

assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
Fill Only

Join or Die

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

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

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

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

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

✩ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.

✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Pomeranians. Although…Anon knows nothing about dogs and the rearing of dogs, so chapter may be off…

Warning: racist thoughts

Master of the House

Chapter 2 - Bonds

“Fetch, Spado, fetch!” Charles tossed the toy ball across the grassy green grass of his courtyard. A fluffy blur of golden brown and white dashed past, swiftly following the flying ball. Charles laughed, gazing at his loyal companion with affection as the dog returned with the toy in his mouth, tail wagging frantically.

“Good boy,” he scratched the dog’s ears. “Who’s a good boy?”

Spado yipped happily, rolling on his back and staring up at him in adoration as Charles rubbed the dog’s belly and hind quarters.

Spado was fierce, loyal and, above all, loving. Everything a man could desire in a companion. He was Charles’s favorite for that very reason, though he loved all his dogs tremendously. The only being who came close in his affections was Grandmaster Kenway, but Charles’s feelings for the man were of a different sort than his adoration of his canines.

Spado and his other dogs, they inspired uncomplicated love. Unfettered joy. Unspoken devotion. They put him above all else and demanded the return of equal faith and loyalty. They brightened his day, lightened his load and made him forget his troubles, if only for a little while.

Master Kenway…

Charles sighed, fingers stilling in soft fur.

Master Kenway inspired admiration and distant longing. The knowledge of what he would always want and could never attain. The bitter knowledge that this remarkable, worthy man, this dignified and handsome Alpha who had led the Colonial Templars had wasted his affections on a Native slut undeserving of him.

Thoughts of Haytham Kenway caused him to look at the window at the far corner of the manor. Though he could not catch a glimpse of the figure within, he knew that Connor was there, undoubtedly still insensate in his bed where he’d left him after he’d taken his pleasure from him.

Unbidden, the image of the boy’s youthful body came to mind. The long, finely muscled limbs. The trim waist and shapely arse.

Charles’s breeches tightened, and he grudgingly admitted that perhaps something useful had come of the ill-advised liaison between Master Kenway and that Native bitch.

Soon, soon that flat belly will soften and round as his child grows within the boy. Soon, he’ll be able to place his hand upon the boy’s stomach and feel the baby kick. Soon, he’ll have his heir.

His eyes abruptly narrowed, and Spado yipped in distressed as Charles’s hands suddenly clawed and clenched.

He apologetically softened his touch and soothed the dog, gently soothing the ruffled fur.

Connor had miscarried only a couple of months ago and, if Matthew was correct in his diagnosis, he would miscarry again as long as he remained in his apathetic state. Charles’s plan of combining the great lineage of Master Kenway with his own and leveraging the famous eyes of the Kenway line would fail. He would lose this child like he had lost the last son.

That was not to be borne.

But, for the life of him, he could not figure out how to deal with it. How does one revive an enemy without re-arming him? Charles went through too much trouble to de-claw the boy. He did not want to undo his hard work.

A series of happy barks interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced up to see one of the man-servants with the rest of his pack.

“There you are, sir,” the man-servant bowed respectfully. The other Pomeranians yipped happily around the man, following him obediently as he neared Charles.

“Are they well?” He inspected each carefully to make sure they were in the perfect of health.

“Perfectly, sir. They are happy and contented as can be.”

“And their meal?”

“Consumed with gusto, sir. Their appetites are healthy and,” the man-servant’s voice hushed in reverence, “one of them is pregnant.”

Charles raised his eyebrows in surprise. His eyes went to the only girl in his pack. “You are sure?”

The man nodded. “Positive, sir. I took them to the animal doctor earlier today, and he confirmed that she is with pups.”

Charles laughed with joy, ecstatic at the news. The breeding had taken, and his lovely girl had given him a new brood!

Suddenly, remembering the last pregnancy he had been around, he hurriedly turned to his man-servant.

“Is she healthy?”

A nod. “Yes sir. The doctor has informed me that she had formed close and happy bonds with the rest of the dogs as well as her obvious affection for you, and that, if things continue the way they are, she’ll deliver 3 puppies.”

Charles breathed a sigh of relief and lifted a reverent hand to pet his girl. She would be fine, her puppies would be fine, and she won’t miscarry or lose the litter like…

His brain suddenly halted and thought to what his servant had said. An idea formed in his mind, tempting, but dangerous.

Bonds, the man had said. Close and happy bonds and affection.

Furiously, he struggled to remember what Matthew had told him earlier.

Something to fight for…isolated…

The idea coalesced and his eyes widened.

He glanced at the lone window again.

“Take the dogs back to their rooms and be sure to give them their treats,” he instructed his man-servant.

“Sir?” the man said, puzzled. Charles didn’t blame him. He was typically a man of routine, and here he was, breaking that routine.

“I have affairs to take care of.”

He stood abruptly and called for his cloak, hat and gloves, glancing at the lonely window all the while.

It was time to make a house-call to James Collins, and see how the man was doing with his prize Omega.

It was time to see if Clipper Wilkinson could help him with his goals.

Other writer anon here, and OMG... each chapter was a punch to my heart X_X especially Connor learning that George had died /cries/ then the miscarriage, then of him just finally giving up... wonder how Charles is going to use Clipper (thank goodness he's alive... and as another Templar's wife OMG) to get Connor out of this state.

Glad you're not put off by the weird chapter 1. As I was writing it, I had a moment of WTF as I realized I just did 1k words where Connor's doing nothing but staring at some dust motes (plus the spousal rape at the end).

...still not sure why we torture poor Connor so much...

Clipper will actually have quite an...interesting...part to play. One Charles should regret. //smirks//

btw, will be traveling for a couple of days, but should be back on track later this week.

Well Charles did refer to Connor and his people as specks of dust, words that have stuck with him for over ten years. BTW what year does Master of the House take place in? I'm assuming the wedding was crashed in 1776 shortly after Hickey's death, imagine the event was planned at the last minute and not all of their friends such as Faulkner and the Aquila crew, Lafayette, Benjamin Tallmadge probably could not make attendance.

Oh, I forgot to add that I love the one-sided Haytham/Charles you threw in there. I plan on introducing him in the Honeymoon series but mayve near the end. It's probably going to be something similar to the conversation they had at the brewery, Connor flat out blames Haytham for everything and wants nothing to do with him.

Actually, not sure what year it is. The timelines in AC III have always been a bit screwed up (I remember at one point I tried to do the math with the birthdates given in the database, added in knowledge drawn from gameplay and put in actual historical events...and ended up with some pretty screwy math).

But yeah, event-purposes, the wedding crash happened soon after Hickey's death (Connor would not have met Lafayette yet or Haytham yet). As for Faulkner and Aquila crew...gotta admit I kinda forgot about them. //headdesk// Let's just say they were in the middle of a naval convoy run, shall we? :)

Glad you liked Haytham/Charles. :D In my head-canon, Charles has the hots for Haytham no matter what (in this case, they are both male Alphas). That might also help to explain why he wants his plan to succeed so much. Connor is the only part of Haytham that Charles will ever be able to keep.

Yeah, I remember doing the math and noticing that Duncan was supposed to be 20 or something when he watched Haytham kill his uncle, and Deborah only a couple years younger than Haytham... jeez Shaun, are you falling asleep when you enter this information?

I'm also blaming Connor and Kanen(I'm-going-to-butcher-your-name-so-bad) grown up appearances during the whole Tea Party event

Re: Master of the House - part 3

(Anonymous) - 2013-02-11 03:10 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Master of the House - part 3

(Anonymous) - 2013-02-11 03:13 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Master of the House - part 3

(Anonymous) - 2013-02-11 03:27 (UTC) - Expand

Hey uhh I'm a random other kinda shy anon and I was just curious, with the way that the whole timeline has been shifted, how would Connor's village be doing? Would Charles still like force them off the land or what? Also keep going with this AU it's really addicting!

Thanks! Glad you're enjoying the story. :)

At this point in time, the new governing body has not yet been decided as of yet (though Charles is the likely candidate for head of the governing body whatever form that may take). Since it was Congress that forced the tribes from their lands in a bid to pay for the war (even if Hamilton-I think it was Hamilton, may have been one of the others-made it so that many of the soldiers were cheated out of their due), the village should still be there at the moment.

The new governing body will, likewise, need to decide how to settle their debts (or face another uprising as soldiers remain unpaid), but I haven't quite mapped that out yet.

Certainly, Charles is cognizant of Connor's ties with the village, and that should affect the ultimate decision for that particular clan of Mohawk, though not all the Native American tribes in the area.

Huh how interesting. Forgot about the whole debts due to the whole war front. Derp.

Do you think that Kanen (not gonna attempt spelling out his full name) would ever make an appearance? My mind has been like running around making silly mini-stories like having Connor arranging things for Haytham Lee to be taught hunting via his old friend and etc.

And also that Connor taught his son his native tongue and they have conversations all the time in Kanien’kéha when it's only the two of them...

...if I had the ability to write I would write out these ridiculous ideas of mine but ahh... *hides self*

Sorry it took me so long to respond. Being stuck in a plane last week made me lose track of a couple of threads.

But yes, that's an awesome idea! Connor would absolutely teach Haytham Lee Kanien'kéha.

Not yet sure about Kanen'tó:kon (depends on survival of village and all), but if he does survive, I can see that being a point of negotiation between Connor and Charles Lee.

Don't hide yourself! The more the merrier. :D

Managed to get this out before I leave in the morning. Will try to work on next chapter during travels.

And yes, Clipper makes an appearance here. :) Also, Anon knows nothing about classic architecture so if drawing rooms were not typically at the top of staircases, Anon apologizes.

Master of the House

Chapter 3 - Unexpected Partners

Unlike many of the other newly-inducted members of the Inner Circle, James Collins was of more modest means, and it showed in his living arrangements. Rather than keeping a townhouse for work purposes and a suitable manor elsewhere, James spent all of his time in his single abode in the heart of Boston. His was a small apartment, identical to the many other little brick apartments next to it, only large enough to comfortably suit three people. There was only a single maid.

While Charles could never live like that himself, as used as he was to his little luxuries, he had to admit that Master Kenway had chosen well in James. While from a poor family and rather too self-deprecating for Charles, the man made a brilliant lawyer and was utterly devoted to the Order. Perhaps it was just as well that he was from simple roots: his worth to the Order as a lawyer working closely with the people far outweighed any worth he could have had had his family been well off and he a judge.

His character was, likewise, suited to his role and profession. He was sympathetic, knowledgeable and kind, all traits that endeared him to his clients and advanced the Templar cause. He was also shrewd, and, as Charles rapped sharply against the door, he wondered if he should be glad of that fact…or worried.

A scant few minutes later, Charles made out the sound of footsteps descending a flight of stairs and the heavy bolt being drawn open. Soon, the man himself appeared within the doorway.

“Charles!” the man smiled pleasantly upon seeing him. “You should have told me earlier you’d call. I’d have had tea ready for you. But do come in. Come in.”

Charles clasped his hands behind his back and nodded his greeting to the man. “Thank you, James.”

He stepped into the apartment, leaving the brisk Autumn air behind him. The two men began climbing the narrow staircase, and Charles briefly wondered about the stability of the creaky steps.

James must have noticed his consternation, for his next words were— “Sorry about that, Charles. I’ve been meaning to renovate, but there have been so much excitement in the past couple of months that it must have slipped my mind.”

“Not at all,” Charles smiled weakly, looking askance at the old wood beneath his fine leather gloves.

James laughed. “You don’t fool anyone with that expression…but I promise to have this fixed next time you drop by unannounced.”

Beyond the door at the top of the staircase lay the drawing room and as they settled themselves into the velvet covered chairs, James turned towards Charles.

“You don’t usually come to see me without a reason,” James inquired, mild curiosity in his brown eyes.

Charles crossed his fingers in thought. The maid entered balancing a tray of one medium-sized teapot and two cups. They were, Charles noted, of exquisite china and finely made.

He stayed silent as the maid set the two cups in front of himself and James and poured them each some tea. Quietly, she set aside the tray and departed the room. He waited until her soft footfalls faded away before he spoke.

“It concerns your Omega.”

James looked up mid-sip. “Oh?”

“I may have need of him.”

James calmly set down his cup and waited. The intensity of the brown gaze compelled Charles to continue.

“He may be the solution of a—“ Charles hesitated, aware of the delicateness of the situation, “—a small difficulty—I’ve been facing.”

James stayed silent for a moment longer, then…

“Is this about your Omega?”

Charles bristled, uncomfortable with how much the man knew. Briefly, he wondered if his marital woes were common knowledge among the Order and then promptly banished the thought. He would deal with it later if necessary.

“I merely think it would do him good to remind him of what I hold, what we,” he amended, seeing James’s eyes darken, “hold.”

James stared at him in contemplation, gaze once again mild. “And do you truly believe that more threats will give you your heir?”

A sharp crack and Charles’s hands were suddenly bleeding, sharp jagged shards of porcelain embedded into his palm and tea spilling all over his lap.

He did not notice.

“What are you implying, James?” he whispered, eyes intent on the solemn man in front of him.

Said man called for the maid, and the girl swiftly entered the room with a clean handkerchief and tweezers. The room silenced once again as she cleaned Charles’s wound and bowed out of the room, accepting James’s call of gratitude with an expert curtsy.

Sighing, James once again picked up his own cup.

“Peace, Charles, I meant no offense.”

Charles did not relax, and James began to look mildly discomfited.

Finally, “what do you know?”

James took a sip of his tea.

“Did you know that I’m visited by many of our brethren as well as the good folk of Boston? They often come to seek my advice on many matters. Of law. Of ordinary everyday affairs. Of domestic affairs.”

Charles did not see what this had to with anything and opened his mouth to suggest that James get a move on.

“A month ago, Matthew of the lower order inquired after my relationship with Clipper.”

Charles snapped his mouth shut, and he stared at the man in shock.

“He seemed quite puzzled at our relationship and particularly at how healthy and content Clipper is.”

James took another sip and then set down his cup, meeting Charles’s eyes earnestly.

“Brother, you are to be our new leader, and your success is our success and the Order’s glory. None of us wish to see either your line nor that of Master Kenway’s disappear.”

He approached Charles and took one of his bandaged hands in his own.

“Please, sir, allow me to help.”

Charles gazed into the man’s eyes seeking any sign of treachery, any indication of ulterior motives and hidden designs. Silently, he lamented the fact that he did not have Master Kenway’s remarkable eyes and could only rely on his lamentably mortal skills.

And it was this that decided him. The chance to revive those eyes within the Order, the chance to hold a grandson, an Alpha of Master Kenway’s line and call him son…it was worth trusting in the sincerity of the man before him.

“Alright.”

-----

An hour later, he found himself face to face with a man he had not seen since he gave the order that the man be handed over to James. He was startled by the signs of health and, if not happiness, resigned content in the man’s face. Clipper Wilkinson may have stiffened as Charles entered his room, but he relaxed as soon as James came in after him. He gazed at James fondly as the man leaned to whisper in his ear.

Charles was mystified. Connor always remained stiff within his embrace and always endeavored to fix his eyes on anything but himself. Granted, he usually interacted with the boy when he desired to sate his lust, but it was certainly perplexing that two former enemies, an Alpha and an Omega no less, could be so easy in each other’s presence.

Clipper frowned suddenly and turned accusing eyes on him.

“You want me to help Connor heal only for you to break him again?”

Charles briefly contemplated striking the man for his impertinence but then decided that it wouldn’t do to alienate James.

“Control your Omega, James.”

James immediately grabbed the man before he could leap at him (hah, as if an Assassin recruit who could do nothing as his comrades were murdered and his mentor forced to wed against his will could do anything to him) and began placating the man with soothing murmurs.

Clearly, whatever he said seemed to have worked as the man calmed, though he looked no less disgusted by Charles.

“It wouldn’t work anyways,” he spat, daggers in his eyes as he stared at Charles. “You can only offer him more suffering. There is absolutely no reason for him to cooperate with you anymore, and I won’t convince him otherwise.”

Charles’s lips tightened in anger but, remembering James’s earlier words (and the man clearly knew what he was doing with it came to taming Assassins), swallowed his pride.

“He is dying.”

The Omega let out a choked sob and tore his gaze away from Charles. James immediately wrapped comforting arms around him and held his trembling form.

“Oh, it will take many months yet, but he has, for all intents and purposes, given up.”

The man flinches as if struck.

“He lays in bed all day, gazing into nothing and wasting away. The maids tell me they don’t even think he registers their presence anymore. He has withdrawn into his mind and doesn’t react to anything,” not even fucking. “In his belly, he holds the seed of new life, of my child. Of our child.”

The trembling stops, the man silent and listening.

“But that seed is withering. With its Omega parent in such a state, it will neither grow nor thrive. And you’re right. If he dies, he will have escaped my control. He’ll have ended his suffering and gone past my grasp. But,” he watched the Omega carefully. “But so will our child. An innocent child, gone before it even takes its first breath.”

He waited, waiting the Omega wrapped in James arms. He plowed on. “The child won’t be the only casualty. So will any chance that Connor has to see peace and happiness again. So will any chance he might have had to have what you obviously have with James.”

And if there’s a touch of bitterness in his voice, a seed of resentment, Charles would never admit it.

“James is not like you,” the Omega whispered, voice somewhat muffled against his Alpha’s chest. “He gave me a choice, as much freedom as he possibly could, actual concern for my wellbeing, a willingness to treat me as if I were worthy of respect.”

James gazed down at the mop of brown hair in his eyes fondly. “You are worthy of respect, Clipper.”

Charles frowned at the words but soldiered on. He was close, he could feel it.

“Then help me be like James.”

Confused, angry brown eyes looked up at him sharply.

“Why should I trust you? Why do you even care?”

“Because I want our child to live and,” his voice softened, “we both want Connor to live.”

Wow anon, you actually made me feel for Charles here after all the unforgivable shit he did to Connor. I do hope we'll see Granddaddy!Haytham in this.

Glad you like. :)

Trying hard to make Charles into a...well, not exactly sympathetic character, but one that is complex enough that people can relate to his nicer traits (and he does have nicer traits) even as they abhor the atrocities he's committed.

As for Haytham, don't worry, he'll make an appearance. Not anytime soon, but he'll come 'round.

Thank you for giving Clipper such a nice partner (I wonder what happened to Dobby and Stephane since they were both Alphas), he seems truly content even if James is a Templar. I do hope there's some Clipper and Connor interactions... especially since Clipper always respected Connor and maybe saw him as an older brother figure in his life (why do I suddenly picture Connor training the recruits on the Frontier, and the two go on hunting trips together to feed the others).

Capatcha: What is James' name?

Wow, even Capatcha likes James

Yay, people like James! :) I put him in there mostly as a foil to Charles and to contrast Clipper's situation with Connor's. There will most definitely be Clipper-Connor interactions (I heart Clipper).

In some ways, Dobby and Stephane are more dangerous to keep alive, so I haven't yet decided if they're alive or dead.

But yeah, head-canon totally has Clipper and Connor training together out in the frontier and perhaps a slightly closer relationship than most of the other Assassins (except Stephane). Hearts Clipper and Stephane.

Generally not that fond of typing while traveling, but this story’s eating up my brain. :) And apparently, writing angst while on a plane helps with motion sickness. o.O Who knew?

Warning: kinda graphic spousal rape/non-con, dehumanizing thoughts, basically Charles Lee

Master of the House

Chapter 4 - Of Considerations Lost

Despite having secured an agreement from James and James’s Omega to help him in his endeavors with Connor, Charles felt ill at ease. A slight sour, bitter taste lingered in his mouth, not unlike the one that plagued him when he had learned that Master Kenway had had a child with that...woman. It plagued him all through his ride back to his manor and lingered through a silent solitary supper.

The feeling was soon joined by another unpleasant sensation. As he began nibbling through a plateful of cheese, Charles’s gaze fell upon the empty chair assigned to his Omega at these meals and suddenly lost his appetite. He pushed away the plate and nursed his teacup, deep in contemplation.

Seeing James and his own Omega had been, as loath as he was to admit it, a revelation. That such natural enemies could live peacefully, almost happily, despite the situation that brought them together...!

Vaguely, Charles entertained the notion that James had betrayed the Order, but brushed the notion away. The man may be a pacifist at heart and a bit too sentimental, but he was absolutely devoted to the Order. It was Master Kenway himself who discovered him amongst the lower ranked members and elevated him to his current position. The very qualities that Charles himself lacked, an ability to sympathize with commoners, a willingness to learn about and adopt inferior manners and beliefs, a flexibility about his person and approach, these made him the perfect outreach to the masses that the Order needed to control, particularly if Charles was to be placed into a position of power within the new forming government.

He was, Charles mused, much as William Johnson had been, before Connor had assassinated him.

Thoughts of his wife brought his mind back to the conundrum he had been contemplating, and he stared into his teacup as if the swirling dark liquid held all the answers he sought.

It was extraordinary. James’s Omega may have been willful when James had suggested the man help Charles with Connor, but Charles had eyes. He had seen the way the man leaned into his Alpha, his willingness to be in James’s company, the way he instinctively sought James’s assurance.

That James’s natural charm with those lesser than he could allow him to master his wife without reducing him into the shell that Connor had become...

Charles glanced again at the empty chair and, for the first time, wondered if his plan might become more than what he had originally sought.

It was true that his Omega was of inferior stock on his mother’s side. Charles grimaced in distaste at the thought of the woman. But his paternal line was impeccable. And during his captivity, Charles had, despite himself, began to see more and more of Master Kenway in him. His wife, he was forced to admit, had great business acumen and had managed the Davenport estate admirably. Whether it was from pure luck or keen foresight, the boy had, if Charles’s reports were correct, single-handedly discovered the necessary talents to revive the place and negotiated its return to magnificence.

The boy was also, Charles’s interrogators had informed him after a couple of months with that French chef Assassin, well-versed in a few foreign languages from the continent. French was a given, especially with the French’s involvement with the Natives during the French-Indian War, but that the boy had a rudimentary working knowledge of German from little time he had spent with one of the other Assassins...

That was Master Kenway’s keen intelligence, no doubt. And the boy was physically desirable, of similar shape and form to Master Kenway. He was smaller and shorter than the Grandmaster, but that could be attributed to his Omega nature.

What would it be like, Charles wondered, if Connor would lean into him the way James’s Omega had sought his Alpha? What would it be like if Connor actively sought to give him pleasure during their couplings instead of lying passively on the bed? What would it be like if Connor did not resist their kisses?

For a moment, Charles allowed himself to imagine. Long lingering kisses, the lowering of that tempting body onto a soft bed, long legs wrapping about him as the lithe body arched passionately into his wider, larger frame and a light alto voice crying out... “George!”

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been tossed on him. His erection deflated, and his fists clenched in anger.

The boy was a sentimental fool who could not get over the death of his beloved Washington, Charles reminded himself. He was nothing like Master Kenway. Master Kenway would never collapse over the death of a fool. He would never let himself be in such a state where he lay insensate due to sheer sentiment. It was clear that the boy could never be Master Kenway’s equal.

Abruptly, he stood and, dabbing his lips with a napkin, signaled the servants to begin clearing the table.

With a furious stride, he made his way to the room he wife lay in.

He slammed open the door, startling the maids who had been tidying the room and, with a barked shout, ordered them out.

For a second, he stopped and stared transfixed at the boy lying on the bed, gazing at streaks of orange in the sky as the sun set behind the trees.

He was beautiful, this boy Charles had stolen, but he frustrated every single one of Charles’s designs and every last one of Charles’s plans.

And that was intolerable.

Anger mounted again, and he roughly removed his belt, tossing the leather into a corner. His waistcoat followed next, and then he turned his attention to his breeches and undergarments, stripping them from his body in brusque, perfunctory movements. When, at least, he was bare save for a thin shirt, he fell upon the boy.

Hogwash, he thought as he ripped the sheets off the lax body and spread the boys thighs.

Utter hogwash, his mind bit off bitterly as he coated his fingers with grease and fat and smeared them at the boy’s entrance.

Complete and useless hogwash, he raged as he angrily thrust in.

It was idiotic, mad, sheer lunacy! Clearly, James and James’s Omega had rattled his brain.

He gripped Connor’s thighs tightly, fingers digging into the boy’s soft, vulnerable flesh and undoubtedly leaving bruises as he set a punishing pace.

What was he going on about, thinking of Connor as if the boy was a person meriting his consideration? As if the boy would ever cooperate with him without duress?

The bed shook and groaned with the strength of his thrusts, in tune with the pulsing of his rage.

His original plan was undoubtedly the best one. He would allow James’s Omega to coax Connor out of his shell, but once the boy was back to a semblance of himself and had birthed him a healthy male Alpha, he would send Clipper back to James, and things would be as they should be.

He pulled out of the boy, flipped him about and savagely plunged back in.

What did he care if Connor never returned his advances? What would he care if the boy spent the rest of his days as a mindless spoils rather than a true wife?

He gasped as an involuntary twitch caused the constricting channel to hug him. He dug cruel fingers into the firm round buttocks and quickened his pace.

Yes, yes, yes! This was best. He would have his heir! He would have a brilliant and capable Alpha son of Master Kenway’s line to call his own and, together, they shall bring the Order to new heights! And its mother? Well, its mother would be his whore for as long as he remained breathing. A pretty thing to sate his needs and potentially birth him more worthy children.

He moaned and gasped and groaned as the friction became unbearable, as heat gathered low in his loins and built with fiery heat.

With a cry, he emptied himself into the boy, sweet relief rushing over him as he collapsed onto a cool, smooth back.

He grasped the boy and rolled to the side, spooning the smaller body with his larger one. One hand snaked around the lithe waist, splaying itself possessively across Connor’s belly, rubbing it softly, gently in contrast to the hard fucking he had just given its owner.

Charles sighed. Contentedly or perhaps with just a bit of bitterness, he did not know. He did not think he cared.

Charles fell asleep still deeply embedded within his wife.

Wow, anon, you've read my head-cannon. I always thought that Connor would be multilingual since America is a diverse population, and he would be the one gathering information even if it was spoken / written in different languages. Wouldn't be surprised if he also picked up Spanish or Italian, since Achilles mentioned that with his fairer skin he could pass off as either one (nevermind the Native Clothes he was wearing) before the Boston Massacre that Haytham and Lee had started.

Moving on. Almost feel for Charles who has nothing but one-sided relationships between father and son. And of course poor Connor - not sure if he feels the pain from the violation, with his mind so far gone - but taken advantage of in his helpless state /pets Connor/

BTW Had some questions about the Omegaverse and current timeline:

1. Since Charles and Connor are now mates, does Connor still see Charles as red when switching to Eagle Vision? Probably not blue, maybe gold or white?

2. Does Church still betray the Templars even after Charles becomes the Commander and Chief?

Church betrayed the Templars in original timeline for his own gain, so he would probably have betrayed the Templars here too and been taken out by Haytham.

I imagine that Connor stills sees Charles as red since, for all intents and purposes, Charles is still his enemy. He can't do anything about it, but the relationship is neither a willing nor wanted one on Connor's part and their goals are very, very different.

Glad it works with head-canon. :D I always thought that, given the amount of trading + relationships with the French, it'd make sense for Connor to know that language extremely well. And since one of the recruits is German, it also made sense that Connor was attempting to learn a bit of German.

Good idea about the Italian/Spanish. :)

Okay, Charles remaining red makes sense since eagle vision is based on the perceptions of the person using it.

The reason why I asked about Church, was because I was wondering if Charles would be the one who had team up with Haytham and maybe even Biddle to track the traitor down, giving Clipper and Connor some alone time.

Re: Master of the House - part 5

(Anonymous) - 2013-02-13 03:52 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Master of the House - part 5

(Anonymous) - 2013-02-13 15:07 (UTC) - Expand

Clearly, traveling means you get even more fic writing done b/c you have nothing to do while in a plane other than wish you were anywhere but in the plane…

Well, that and write fic. ;D

Unfortunately, this chapter is relatively short and boring and eventless. Just a breather from all that angst and rape and noncon. ...Okay, maybe not the angst, but it's more of the subtle variety and less hitting over the head this time.

Master of the House

Chapter 5 - Of Joyless Victories

It was clear to Charles that all this commotion on behalf of his Omega was affecting him for the worse. For, instead of his comfortable bed in his own room, he woke in Connor’s quarters, still inside of the boy. It was grossly inconvenient for the warm constricting channel had encouraged him to harden.

It would not be such a problem save for two facts.

One, he had overslept, and it was now mid-morning. The second, which resulted in part from the first, is that there was a knocking at the front door.

A knocking.

At the front door.

Charles’s mind was still somewhat asleep, but he knew there was something important about there being someone knocking at his door at this hour...

Oh.

James had agreed to escort his Omega to Charles to aid in Connor’s recovery. They had agreed on mid-morning.

Bugger.

Charles thought about it, but decided against it. It wouldn’t do to keep James waiting. Despite his recent mental upheaval at the epiphany of James’s affectionate relationship, James was still a valuable ally, and it would reflect poorly on Charles.

With a sigh, he pulled out of his wife’s warm body and called for the servants to help him dress.

Absentmindedly, he reached for a long and thick jacket. Its length would hopefully help hide his rather uncomfortable erection.

A quarter of an hour later, he greeted James and his Omega in the foyer. James blinked at his appearance.

“Pardon me for mentioning this, Charles, but, you look like shit.”

Charles glared halfheartedly at the man. It was true, after all. He did look, as James so quaintly put it, ‘like shit.’

“Rough night,” he muttered.

Clipper, standing next to James, stiffened at this. As Charles’s irritated eyes glanced at the Omega, Clipper quickly looked him up and down, pausing ever so slightly at his groin.

He first turned red, then, clearly realizing what Charles meant, pale.

“You—“ the man sputtered, nearly white with fury.

James quickly laid a soothing hand upon his Omega’s shoulders, and Charles watched the young man visibly deflate.

Perhaps it was uncalled for, but Charles felt a spike of loathing for them both at that moment.

Oblivious to Charles’s sudden anger, James turned to him.

“It’s been a tiring journey for Clipper. Why don’t we let him drop off his things for his stay and reacquaint himself with his friend? I have some sensitive news that should be discussed in the privacy of your office.”

Charles blinked, but, seeing the sense of such a suggestion, quickly called the servants to help Clipper and his belongings to the guestroom. The news must be important to warrant his immediate attention.

----

Charles stared at the scroll in shock.

So.

He was King.

His eyes sought James’s seeking confirmation. The man nodded.

“And, after all that trouble to declare ourselves independent and break free from England’s grasp, we are to be modeled after that very nation and her government system.”

James nodded again. “It would seem that Lady Irony has a sense of humor,” he said without mirth.

“Quite.”

Charles rolled up the scroll and pressed it to his lips in thought. So he was to be King of these quarreling, squabbling states with their own frightfully independent governing bodies, and there was to be a Congress underfoot, much like Parliament in England.

Well.

A thought came to him.

“How did you come by this, James?”

Brown eyes suddenly looked away, as if in...shame?

“Master Kenway is representing New York, and, upon discovering the news, delivered it to me three days ago knowing that I often call upon you.”

“Three days ago, he had business closer to my place than yours. Why wouldn’t he call upon me personally? Surely, he knows he is always welcome.”

Brown eyes refused to look at him.

Charles grew angry.

“You are implying something. What?”

James licked his lips in the nervous fashion he had had since Charles first met him.

“Master Kenway is a complex man...”

“Yes, yes,” Charles interrupted. “I know. What about it?”

James hesitated.

Charles lost his patience.

“Out with it! Either speak or leave, but I have neither patience nor desire to waste my time dawdling—“

“He is a father.”

Charles snapped his mouth shut. For a second, neither man said anything, one too stunned, the other too uneasy.

Finally, Charles managed to gather his wits about him. But when he spoke, there was a lost tremor in his voice, a tone of disbelief and betrayal hinted within.

“He agreed to it.”

James said nothing.

“He agreed to the wedding, agreed to my bedding the boy, agreed to my begetting a child upon him!”

James still said nothing.

Charles swallowed bitterly. “Why?”

James shook his head. “The miscarriage, the boy nearly dying because of it, the loss of his first and only grandchild...”

“He blames me?” the cry was anguished, devastated, unbelieving. It did not sound like Charles.

“He...” James paused. “He had believed you would convert the boy, tame his temperament and turn him into a respectable wife.”

“You make it sound as if he feels for the boy,” Charles snorted. “But he cannot. He is Haytham Kenway, not a man to be swayed by mere sentiment.”

To this, James had nothing to say but… “Despite all that remains between them, despite their last and only confrontation, Connor is still Master Kenway’s son. Master Kenway will love him for that if nothing else.”

“They are enemies. They hate each other.”

“But that does not mean there cannot also be love. Even a thin, barely noticeable one such as this.”

The words fell heavily in the air and weighed between them. Oppressive.

Charles forced himself to speak and to inquire, feeling as lost as he had when he had realized he lost his son.

“Does he support me still? Does he still...” he could not go on.

In this, James took pity on him.

“Yes, for he respects you as a comrade still.”

It was a weight taken off his shoulders, but not the entirety of it. That he still had Master Kenway’s respect...

James continued. “He mourns in his own way, Charles. And so he avoids you, his friend, for you are important to the Order and important to the country.”

But not, Charles noted, important to him.

Still, he supposed it could be worse.

The sentiment did not make him feel any better.

“Thank you,” Charles said abruptly. “Thank you for delivering the news. I owe you, my friend.”

James shook his head. “Think nothing of—“

“We both are very busy today, and I must see to my guest’s needs.”

James frowned. “Ch—“

“The servants will see you out.”

With that, Charles strode out of his office and did not look back.

Wow, Charles is really getting kicked in the teeth with his botched handling with Connor. Haytham has every right to blame Charles, but I'm sure he blames himself the most; and Charles has to redouble his efforts if he wants to salvage his relationship with Haytham.

Once again, I love James and Clipper. Can't wait for Connor's reaction to their bond once he recovers.

Hehehe. :)

Oh Haytham shares pretty equal blame in this (it was a pretty asinine plan). It's probably why he's avoiding Charles.

Connor's...well, he's actually in an interesting situation, as we'll come to find out. George's death was the straw that broke the camel's back but, even more than that, it was a paradigm shift.

That being said, his recovery will have to come in a different form (though I doubt he'll ever go back to the person he was...Connor at end of Bloody But Unbowed is far different than Connor at beginning), and Clipper and James's relationship will be integral to that.

Glad you like James. :) I'm basically resurrecting William Johnson as I see him. Road to hell is paved in good intentions type except that James hasn't faced those situations.

Hm...I've been meaning to add in some fluff, but I must be incapable of it. All that comes out is angst. But at least it's Clipper time? :)

Master of the House

Chapter 6 - Clipper

As Clipper followed one of the maids to his temporary quarters, he found himself both excited and anxious at the prospect of seeing his old mentor and friend again. His last glance of Connor was when he, Stephane and Deborah had been marched out at gunpoint by Templar agents.

He had been struggling, they had all been struggling, shouting and straining to get back inside, to not leave their dear mentor behind. He remembered the look of shock painting Connor’s face. He remembered Templars seizing Connor and holding him to the ground. He remembered Charles Lee undoing his trousers with too-clear intentions on his face before the butt of a rifle met his temple, and his vision blurred and darkened as he was thrown over a Templar’s shoulder and carried away from his beloved mentor...

He remembered when Connor screamed.

Shakily, he held a hand to his mouth and tried to hold back his nausea. One year since he had seen him. One entire year of wondering. Of trying to catch snippets of news no matter how small, of not knowing even when Lee ordered him dragged from his cell and gifted him to James, of pleading with James (who valued him and gave him much more freedom and choice than he had ever dreamed of a Templar but would still not speak of Connor’s fate). Of finally believing his beloved mentor to be dead, only to overhear the Templar Matthew speaking with James about Connor’s miscarriage (miscarriage!).

One year since he had seen Connor, and now he was to see him on Charles Lee’s orders, on Charles Lee’s behalf, to save Charles Lee’s child and keep Connor alive so that Charles Lee could continue using him.

Charles Lee’s child that was also Connor’s child. The second child that Lee had forced onto his beloved mentor.

He felt ill.

Clipper hurriedly bolted past the surprised maid, grabbed the nearest bedpan and began heaving over it.

The worst thing was that he couldn’t even claim Charles Lee had tricked him into helping. He was selfish. He was too selfish to let Connor die, he was too selfish to let Connor go now that he finally had the chance to see him again.

He wished he was strong enough to free Connor the way Connor had been strong enough to free the young boys from service three years ago.

-----

Half an hour later, Clipper was feeling only marginally better, but resolved to ready himself for the long-awaited meeting. James and that—that Charles Lee were still closeted away discussing ‘business,’ no doubt something Templar related.

He turned towards the maid (a different one as the one who had accompanied him before was now preoccupied with cleaning the bedpan).

“May I see Mr. Connor Kenway, please?”

The maid blinked.

“Master Lee has given explicit instructions that Mr. Lee,” Clipper felt like gagging at the name, “is not to see anyone without him.”

Clipper stared at her, uncomprehending.

“But Mr. Lee asked for me to accompany Mr. Kenway.” He was not going to refer to his friend and mentor by the name of his rapist.

“Master Lee never gave us updated instructions for Mr. Lee,” the maid stressed.

Clipper ignored her hint.

“Surely your master would not want you to keep the man he personally requested to help with Mr. Kenway away from him?” he reasoned.

The maid frowned.

“I am not in the business of second-guessing my master. If he wishes for you to see Mr. Lee without him, he would have informed us so.”

“Mr. Lee seems to be a busy man.” Clipper was getting just a bit irritated. “Perhaps recent events kept him so busy it slipped from his mind that I am to be allowed access to Mr. Kenway.”

“Master Lee is a brilliant and organized man. He would not have forgotten,” the maid glared at him, “such a thing. If you want to see Mr. Lee, you will wait for Master Lee to accompany you.”

Clipper opened his mouth to argue with her, but then closed it in thought. From the mulish cast of her face, he could see that he would never convince her otherwise. And could he blame her? If she went against Lee’s orders, and Lee was displeased, she could lose her position within the household, the income that no doubt supported her family and loved ones, the measure of respectability from having a master quite as famous as Charles Lee was after the war with England.

He’d have to try a different tactic.

“I understand, madam,” he looked contrite. “And I am sorry to have caused you trouble.”

She looked suspiciously at him, but, seeing his sincerity, softened her expression. She patted his hand.

“I am sure the Master will be here soon to escort you. And you can ask him for permission to see Mr. Lee as you will when he comes.”

The maid paused, but, as Clipper still looked rather unhappy, she began again.

“Would it help if I described my knowledge of Mr. Lee and his experiences here?”

Clipper turned to her, yearning etched onto his face.

“Are you sure? Will Mr. Lee be angry with you? Will you get into trouble—“

The maid grinned at him suddenly and held a finger up to her lips. She leaned into him to whisper conspiratorially in his ear, “Master Lee never forbade us from sharing information about Mr. Lee from concerned friends.”

Then, straightening back up and with a more kindly, seriously air, “You seem like a nice young man, and Mr. Collins seems so taken with you. I know you won’t do anything to harm this household. And...“

She grew more serious, almost solemn. “Mr. Lee has been in a bad way for a couple of months now. I admit that we did not get along with him in the beginning, seeing as how he was so rude and disobedient to Master Lee, his own husband, but he did not deserve what has happened. He wanes now, and it causes the Master grief, particularly if the child were to be lost again.”

She turned toward him suddenly, earnestly.

“I know it is not my place, but, promise me. Promise me that you will do all that is in your power to help restore this household.”

Clipper found himself struck speechless, and, as he was struggling to come up with an answer, the door to his room opened and Charles Lee entered.

//GLOMPS CLIPPER// I'm so glad you brought him into the story, Connor desperately needs the support of one of his closest friends more than ever. The flashback was heartbreaking, and I love the fact that he's still willful and argues over Connor's surname with the maid. Also glad that the servants aren't totally heartless, but most likely worried for their master.

And you're killing me anon, ending off with a confrontation like that. I wonder how the interactions between Charles and Clipper will go without James to interfere.

Re: Master of the House - part 7

(Anonymous) - 2013-02-15 01:45 (UTC) - Expand

Charles Lee is paranoid. And possibly reads fanfic.

Master of the House

Chapter 7 - the First Battle

“Master Lee,” the maid bowed to the man respectfully.

Charles Lee stared at Clipper, a dark, suspicious look in his eyes. Carefully, he gestured a dismissal to the maid.

“Mary, please see to the cook. James has left a list of foods that our guest is allergic to, and it would be unfortunate if any of them appear at our dinner.” His eyes never left Clipper’s form as he spoke.

Mary curtsied gracefully, “At once, Master Lee,” and then swiftly exited.

Clipper was left alone with the man he abhorred.

For a moment, neither man said anything, merely stared at each other in mutual suspicion and dislike.

Finally, Lee broke the silence.

“You are my guest here, and James seems to trust you to some degree. However,” he paused. “However, it would be unwise to conduct any affairs against me or mine while you stay in this house.”

Clipper felt a rush of anger at the words, but wisely swallowed the words that came to mind. Connor was locked behind the walls of this house somewhere, and Charles Lee held the key. For his dear, dear mentor, he could ignore his disgust for Lee.

“I want to see him now.” Then, grudgingly, “please.”

Lee almost looked disappointed that he had not baited Clipper into an argument.

“Very well. I will take you to him—”

Clipper interrupted him. “I want to see him alone.”

Lee glanced sharply at him, temper clearly rising at his words.

“No! Absolutely not! Do you think me a fool that I will allow you access to him unsupervised? That you may spirit him off and—“

“With all due respect,” Clipper omitted the ‘sir’, “there is nowhere for me to go, nowhere for him to disappear. Not with your current popularity amongst the people.”

Lee ground his teeth, unclearly uncomfortable with the prospect but recognizing the truth behind the words.

“There is still no reason for you to visit Connor unsupervised. You may not make off with him as you say, but I’ve seen the way you looked at him at our wedding. You and those blasted brothers of yours.”

Clipped blinked and, for a moment, was stunned into shock by the wild accusation. He found his voice scant seconds later.

“We are friends! Colleagues, comrades, brothers-in-arms, friends, mentor and students!” he cried.

“Really?” Lee sounded doubtful. “You have never dreamt about him? About his smooth tan skin, about his fine features and long limbs. About holding him down as you enter his tight heat...”

“No!” Clipper was scandalized. Lee was—Lee was crazy! No wonder Mary the maid was so worried.

“No,” he repeated. “We never—he’s our respected mentor!. And I am an Omega.”

Lee snorted. “Mentorship is not a barrier,” (and did Clipper hear a vague bitter quality to his voice?). “And Omegas have been known to pair off with Omegas in the past, provided an offspring is viable.”

Crazy...

“I am not interested in him in that way. I am bonded to James,” he stressed his mate’s name, hoping that this, at least, would lend some logic to the man in front of him.

“Ah, but you are away from James right now.”

The attempt had clearly failed. And Clipper was out of arguments.

“Then have one of your servants supervise, if you cannot trust the chasteness of the feelings I have for my friend.”

Lee shook his head. “There is no need to waste my servants time on this task when they have many chores to perform.”

Clipper felt himself shake at the description.

“Is that all he is to you? A waste?

Lee stayed silent, eyes bitter and mouth curled into a sneer.

Poor Connor, Clipper thought. He had known that Lee was a vile, vile man, but that he would tear Clipper’s mentor away from his loved one, force a marriage on him and then declare it all a ‘waste’...

“One wonders why you went to so much trouble to acquire him, then, if he is a waste. One wonders why you desire help in treating him, in helping him, if he is a waste.”

Lee looked away at that. Clipper had the sense that he was seeing something that wasn’t there.

Clipper gritted his teeth. He would not let Connor’s first sight of him again be of him and Lee, of all people. He would do his utmost to protect his mentor from his tormentor.

“You must not come with me to see to Connor.”

“Out of the question—“

“I cannot do anything if you are there.”

Lee snapped his mouth shut and turned upon Clipper again, glaring at him.

“Do you mean to renege on your promise to me? To James?” Lee’s nostrils flared with anger.

Clipper shook his head.

“I mean that recovery will not be possible.”

“I fail to see how—“

Clipper interrupted him again. “Do you agree that it is you who have caused him to be in such a state?”

Lee looked sullen at this, but did not deny it.

“Then you must see that your presence would be detrimental to Connor. And to the child he carries.”

Lee swallowed thickly, and Clipper began to hope that the man who leave him alone, would allow him to be by Connor in peace.

To see Connor again. To be by his beloved mentor and make the man whole and well again...

“Do you give your word?” Lee began softly. “Do you give your word that you will not try anything to cause him to lose the child? That you will do whatever it is in your power to bring him back, to make him well enough to birth the child?”

Clipper didn’t want to. He would not hurt the child, but if Connor was whole and sound of mind and truly did not want to give birth to his hated enemy’s child, then Clipper did not want to be the one to stop him.

But Clipper wanted to see him again so very, very much. Wanted him healthy and whole and utterly unlike that stunned man who had been forced upon in that church one year ago...

“Yes,” he whispered. Then, when Lee made no move, when he gave no indication of having been heard, he repeated himself with a stronger voice. “Yes. I promise. Please let me see to him.”

Lee looked away. “I will give instructions to my servants that you be allowed to see him for one hour unsupervised every day.”

Then, when Clipper opened his mouth to protest, he added, “You will spend the rest of your time with him accompanied by Mary or Matthew, who has been Connor’s doctor since we discovered his first pregnancy.”

Clipper slowly closed his mouth. It was not a great offer, but it was acceptable.

Mutely, he watched as Lee called for his maids and gave them their new instructions. He doubted that all such struggles against the man would go as smoothly as this one did.