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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
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he lives in the woods 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-02-13 12:25 am (UTC)(link)He waited for Charles' footsteps to reach the floor below before quietly leaving the bedroom. He was not so naive to believe he could just trust the word of assassins. Charles might well have turned against the order- he'd need to use his second sight to make sure.
He crept into the room across the hall- it was another bedroom, with suspiciously new furniture and piles of rugs and blankets on the floor. Presumably, this was where the other members of the Brotherhood were staying. On the far side of the room lay a second door, and if Haytham's memory served him correctly, then there was a small storage room beyond that door, with a staircase leading up to the attic. There would probably be nothing of use up there, but he would certainly investigate later.
He closed the door, and moved on. The doors beyond the stairs were a small library and a large bedroom. He squinted at some of the decorations on the walls. Was that Mohawk handiwork, or another tribe? He didn't know. Presumably, this was his son's room. A son he hadn't even known he'd had.
He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in the scent of the room. Clean, with notes of something earthy and of herbal concoctions, just like Ziio. He stepped away from the room with difficulty, closing the door.
Charles still hadn't come back upstairs. Nine minutes was ample time for a brief explanation, wasn't it? Had there been a complication? He didn't particularly want to go to the cellar room that had been the hub of the headquarters last time he'd been here. It would probably spell certain death.
Haytham resisted the urge to curse rather loudly, and made his way to the room that had been the study the last time he had been here. Luckily for him, the same desk stood in the room, though the shelves and surfaces were more cluttered. Books and papers were scattered everywhere, ink pictures and diagrams pinned to the walls.
Haytham glanced at them- trees, rivers, cities, rain… All were dark and messy, and as he gazed at them longer, he saw a connection. Each sketch had a hastily-scrawled figure, man-shaped but impossibly tall. In some pictures he was cloaked, in others he wore a hat. In each picture he was clothed in black, and in every single one the detail did not extend to the face, which had been left blank.
A cold chill ran down his spine, and he moved on, quickly.
The books all seemed to be fables and fairy tales, most of them in German, Polish and one of the Cyrillic languages. Haytham could not make heads or tails of the stories, but they all seemed to be about forests, if the pictures were anything to go by.
He sighed. So the Brotherhood were obsessed with folk tales? What of the enemy Charles had spoken about? This alliance was obviously a waste of time.
There had to be a clue as to what was happening somewhere.
Haytham gritted his teeth, and spun around, to search a different room. At that moment, however, he heard loud footsteps in the hall, and Charles' voice.
"I'll be surprised if Haytham hasn't already wandered off," Charles muttered, and Haytham stepped back slightly, until his back touched a bookshelf. He leant forward until he could see the hall, and in his second sight Charles still glowed blue, though the glow was far brighter than he ever remembered. Still, blue was blue. The hooded man behind him was red, but it was a pale sort of red, very nearly pink, really. So the news of the alliance might well be true- last time he had looked upon an assassin with his second sight, they had been a bloody, dark red.
They went upstairs, and Haytham smirked when he heard Charles curse. He oughtn't've taken so long with explaining things to the Brotherhood, if indeed that was all he had been doing.
Haytham hastily folded his arms behind his back and leant over the desk, as though inspecting the nonsense scattered about. Footsteps thundered downstairs, and Charles' breathless voice called out in relief.
"There you are! Didn't I ask you to wait upstairs?"
Haytham turned his head slightly and smiled politely. He straightened his back, slowly.
"You know I have never been the sort of man to wait. Since you took so long, I decided to take the liberty of investigating matters for myself."
Charles understood the warning tone in his voice, and started (finally!) to explain.
"I'm dreadfully sorry, Haytham. It took longer than I thought to explain the situation, and to plan what to do next. You lost your memory while on a rather important mission, you see."
"Oh?" Haytham said. Charles looked uncomfortable and continued.
"It was reconnaissance. We had a target of the enemy, and you were watching it. Of course, before it attacked the victim, you attacked it, but it reacted to your pistol shot impossibly quickly. According to Connor-- that is, according to your son-- it reacted badly, and tried to strangle you to death. It was only when its victim was snatched away that it took its attention from you. Somehow, that incident wiped the past seventeen months or so from your memory."
Haytham frowned. Out of all the odd things in Charles' tale, one thing stood out as the most odd.
"It?"
Charles nodded, and gestured to the man who stood in the doorway behind him.
"Connor, I think it would be best if you took over at this point."
Everything stopped for a moment, in Haytham's eyes.
The man behind Lee was tall, perhaps half an inch taller than Haytham himself. He was clearly very strong, his hooded robes doing little to hide all that dense muscle. His skin, as expected, was lighter than Ziio's had been, though nobody would mistake him for a white man, not even a sun-kissed Spaniard. He wasn't sure exactly what he thought of this man, aside from that he was rather too old to be his son. After all, it had only been fifteen-- no, seventeen, damn amnesia-- years since he had last spent a night with Ziio. This man was clearly in his mid-twenties at youngest.
"I was expecting somebody younger," was all Haytham could manage. Charles rolled his eyes.
"I look old for my age," the man-- no, Connor, wasn't it?-- rumbled, his voice deep and smooth. "We have had this conversation before."
"Best not repeat it until later," Charles said. "We need to explain the enemy."
Connor nodded, and took his hood down. Haytham could now, if he concentrated, see something of himself in the man's face. A similar jaw, the set of the eyes, a little in the shape of the mouth and nose.
…Or he could see something of any other white European, the more cynical part of Haytham's mind hissed, and he ignored it. Now was not the time for such doubts.
"It is a story," Connor said, carefully enunciating each word. "Like the Pied Piper of Hamlein, it was originally told to scare children into behaving. The tall, faceless man in the rain and the forest. It is real."
Haytham blinked. Surely he couldn't've just heard what he…?
"I beg your pardon?" he asked.
"We do not know where it came from, or why it is here, but it is. The disappearances started a little over a year ago. All children, all after periods of disturbed behaviour. All found dead, with smiles on their faces and most of their internal organs gone."
"Are you being entirely serious?" Haytham demanded, when Connor paused. "This 'enemy' Charles was talking about is a shared delusion? A creature from a German storybook? It's more likely to be a serial killer, you fool."
Connor looked slightly annoyed.
"It is a monster. I have seen it, and so have you. You merely do not remember. If it were a man, we would not need an alliance."
Charles put a hand on Haytham's shoulder. He batted it away, annoyed.
"Tell me, exactly how stupid do you think I am? I am not the kind of idiot who buys into stories of monsters in the night."
"Need I remind you, Haytham, that you believe in the Ones Who Came Before?" Charles snapped.
"Well--" Haytham said, taken aback. "That's different, it's science, but--"
"But what? If this were some kind of elaborate scheme to deceive you, why would we use such a silly story? Surely we'd make up something more believable." Charles grabbed one of Haytham's wrists, and looked into his eyes, as if searching for something that was not there. "You're an intelligent man, Haytham. Probably the most intelligent I have ever met. Think about this for five bloody minutes, and then tell me I'm lying to you. Have I ever tried to deceive you like this before?"
Haytham was speechless for a moment. Admittedly, yes, Charles had some good points, but how on earth could he be expected to believe something so far-fetched? Fairy tales were fairy tales!
"If it's the same creature from folklore," Haytham said, raising the only objection he could think of at that moment in time. "Why did the killings only begin recently? Surely they'd be spread out, across time itself? Or at least there would be a history of such killings."
Charles took a step back, and released Haytham's wrist.
"Now you're starting to understand," Charles said, a relieved smile at the corner of his lips. "I'll fetch us some Scotch."
OP
(Anonymous) 2013-02-13 01:39 am (UTC)(link)Lovely, lovely plot. OP is loving the almost detective-like storytelling at the beginning and Haytham's disbelief. Very good point about TWCB, though. If Haytham believes in them, why not Slenderman as well? :)
And oh, is Haytham one paranoid bastard. Charles betraying the Order? pish. It's such an amusing look into the Grandmaster's mind, and it shows just why he's the Grandmaster. That being said, can't wait for more Haytham and Connor interactions! OP finds Haytham's doubt incredibly amusing for some reason.
fill anon
(Anonymous) 2013-02-14 10:57 am (UTC)(link)Re: he lives in the woods 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-02-13 09:47 pm (UTC)(link)Re: he lives in the woods 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-02-14 01:02 am (UTC)(link)