Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 6

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.6
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≈ 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!

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Part 1
Part 2
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The Rebel's Serenade Epilogue

[(Anonymous)]

The sun was high, crickets chirping loudly in the heat of summer. Martha kept herself inside, in the cool of the study, windows thrown open in the hopes of catching even the smallest breeze. She couldn't focus on her book, unable to sit comfortably, and her gaze kept drifting to the fields outside. The workers were in the shade, sleeping off the hottest part of the day.

From the forest a man emerged on horseback. Martha perked up, squinting against the glare of the sun against the fields. The horse was well groomed - Martha could see the lustre of it's fine coat even from this far. The man was in a white and blue coat, but it was difficult to tell who he was. Martha was quite sure that she had never met him before but something seemed familiar about his noble posture and hood. Despite her chronic illness, her eyesight was still sharp.

As the horse drew closer, it became evident that this man was a native. His handsome jaw caught Martha's attention first, then the armbands and other symbols of his people. And then she remembered where she had seen him; on a cancelled wanted poster that Thomas had brought home not long ago. He'd been quite frazzled by his last trip to New York, wandering the house in the middle of the night, or losing his concentration in the middle of a conversation. It worried her to see him like this, which he did not want for fear of damaging her already delicate health.

The native man hitched his horse under a tree and slung a bag of feed over a low branch with a trough of water. With nothing better to do, Martha decided to see what the man wanted herself. Let the maids rest a bit longer with their late luncheon, she was the lady of the house and she would give this man her respect, native or not. The gentle rapping of the doorknocker surprised her - the stranger was large and she hadn't expected a high level of motor skills.

When she opened it, Martha had a proper look at the man. Immediately his fine features stood out to her. The high cheekbones, pensive eyes, and full lips were all part of a greater whole that made up a remarkable face. He was really quite pretty, she mused.

"Good day, sir. My name is Martha Jefferson. What may I do for you?" she greeted.

"I am looking for Mister Thomas Jefferson," he said, and good lord his voice was exquisite. "My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

"Well, Radonhakehton, my husband is in town but he'll be back by this afternoon if you'd care to wait. I apologise in advance for mangling your name. My French teacher always said I had a lazy tongue." She smiled, hoping to ease the serious face from the young man. While he didn't smile as broadly as she had hoped at her little joke, he did let out a huff of laughter. "Well, come in from the heat and get that coat off. It makes the heat worse just staring at it. And weapons by the door, please."

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded, pushed his hood off and removed his weapons, laying them on the sideboard by the door gently so he didn't chip the lacquer. Well he certainly was prepared with all of those knives and guns and even a bow! Martha wasn't sure if she'd ever seen such an armoury on one person before. She watched in fascination as his holsters and bracers were unbuckled, finally leaving the man in only his clothes.

"You must be a well-respected warrior of your people," said Martha.

"I do not know if well-respected is the right word for it," replied Ratonhnhaké:ton. "I am sure there would be a few that would dearly love to see me fail."

"Jealousy, my dear. Now, I have one last request and that's to remove your boots. Thomas upsets the maids so when he tramps mud into the study. It's terribly sticky stuff and the carpets have borne the brunt."

She left him to undo those alarmingly high boots, the leather coming well over his knees and asked for some fresh lemonade to be brought into the parlour. When she returned, she found the native had carefully leant his boots against the others in the hall and was patiently waiting for her.

"Mrs Jefferson, I would not want to be a bother-" he began, and his expression was so heartfelt and genuine that Martha had to interrupt.

"No, Rad- Ratonhnhaké:ton, it is no trouble. Any friend of Thomas is a friend of mine, and I would so love for some news from New York. Thomas has not been back lately and I only have some of the other wives to exchange letters with and Lady Washington does tend to go on a bit about her orchard. Now come, into the parlour with you and we shall watch for Thomas together."

He clutched at the bundle of fabric that was his coat and obediently followed her, hugging it to his chest. Awkwardly he sat, looking about the room until one of the girls brought a tray in with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. Then he relented clutching at his coat and held the glass with both hands instead.

"How do you know my husband?" asked Martha.

Ratonhnhaké:ton gave her a wry smile.

"We have fought together."

He sipped at his drink, his eyes widened (and Martha realised belatedly that this may have been the first time he had tasted lemonade), and he sipped again.

"This is nice. Thank you," he said, setting the glass down.

They sat there, Ratonhnhaké:ton staring at the books on the shelf, then to the portraits on the wall.

"I am afraid I do not have much to tell you," he said. "They are making good progress on recovering the shipyard where the fire was a year and a half ago. And the ruins are being cleared out for new houses. It seems to me that New York is a city that enjoys being on fire."

His grip loosened on his coat, and he let it rest on his lap. His white waistcoat almost blended with his shirt, the collar undone, revealing defined collarbones and a length of neck barely obscured by an unusual necklace. Martha thought his attire was all rather scandalous - he was almost naked in this state!

"Well, it is rather dense," agreed Martha.

That was all that was needed to break the ice. They chatted amicably after that, until the sound of an approaching horse made them turn their heads. Martha got up to bustle to the front door to greet her husband. Their voices spilled into the parlour.

"Martha, dearest, why is there a small armoury at the front door?" asked Jefferson as he stepped in.

"We have a guest," replied Martha.

She looked back to the parlour where Ratonhnhaké:ton emerged, pulling his coat back on.

"Oh," murmured Jefferson. "You're the man in the white hood."

He fainted.

***
"Honestly, Martha, I am quite alright my love. I do not know what came over me but I assure you I am fine," said Jefferson.

He glanced at Ratonhnhaké:ton, unsure of what to do next. George had shown Jefferson the artefact before he had taken off to find Ratonhnhaké:ton. The visions that came after were horrible, forcing Jefferson to flee New York for the time being. But there had been some pleasant ones - mostly with the man currently sitting as primly as he could on a chair that was too small for him.

"What do we do? I promised you."

Jefferson thought for a moment, staring at the beautiful face unmarked by the powers of the Red Willow. His eyes were different, a deep hazel-brown, but equally as captivating as the blue.

"I will talk to Martha. Did you find her likeable?" asked Jefferson.

"Yes, she was polite and intelligent. She didn't seem to mind my heritage," said Ratonhnhaké:ton.

He squirmed, uncomfortable about something other than the chair.

"What is wrong?"

"You keep slaves," said Ratonhnhaké:ton, and Jefferson's heart sank.

"They are treated the same as any white servant," replied Jefferson. "We have freed several in the past, but they did not leave. Those that did leave came back. Essentially they are free on all but paper and it is to protect them."

"You should abolish slavery," said Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"This country is not ready for it. Sadly, I believe it will be the cause of another war and the people are weary, Ratonhnhaké:ton. It could not be sustained."

They lapsed into silence, Jefferson's fingers itching to touch Ratonhnhaké:ton again, but fearing his right to do so had been revoked. He wanted to comfort the man, tell him yes, slavery was wrong, slavery should be abolished, that he bought slaves to give them a better life not in evaluation of how much labour he could get out of them. The freed ones enjoyed a comfortable life on his estate, working for their accommodation and meals. They were educated and clothed snugly for winter. There were no whips, and had no cruelty.

But he couldn't.

"I cannot break your relationship with your wife. You clearly adore her and it would be wrong of me-"

"No, Ratonhnhaké:ton, let me speak to her. This will not destroy us, I promise you."

***
Martha had warmed to the idea quickly. Ratonhnhaké:ton had come around to it in the end, with words of reassurance and coaxing touches.

Thomas sighed, turning over in bed, caressing his wife's cheek as she was hugged from both sides, protected from the world, blissfully content and secure in the knowledge that the three of them were in this together until the very end.

***
Actual fin now.

Re: The Rebel's Serenade Epilogue

[(Anonymous)]

b'awwww I grew fond of Martha right away, she's very sweet. Also, I like your reference to slavery - as painful as the topic is, people often tend to oversee the fact that not everything was rainbows and sweetness.

I almost suspected Jefferson's going to be blissfully ignorant, but it seems plausible that he was exposed to the 'graces' of the apple.

In the end, what else can I say than thank you, anon. I really appreciate your efforts - it's such a shame Connor/Jefferson doesn't strike the fancy of a wider public. Thanks again for the fill, you're a wonderful author!anon <3

Re: The Rebel's Serenade Epilogue

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you, OP! I was going to have Jefferson be ignorant as well, but he was pretty close to Washington at the time, so I figured Washington would at least show the Apple to Jefferson. Also, I felt the need to address a couple of issues about Jefferson: he did own slaves (but he was kind to them - to the extent that I say he is? Probably not, but I think we can use the Apple visions to excuse the higher levels of contemporary values in Jefferson.), and he had a wife whom he loved dearly.

Not much is known about dear Martha, except she probably died of undiagnosed diabetes and the strain of bearing seven children (the first from a previous marriage...only two children made it to adulthood, and only one past 25...thanks Wikipedia!). She died not long after giving birth to her last child. Jefferson, overwhelmed by grief, "was led from the room almost in a state of insensibility by his sister Mrs. Carr, who, with great difficulty, got him into his library where he fainted, and remained so long insensible that they feared he would never revive."

Thank you, OP. If you keep putting Jefferson/Connor posts up, then who knows? I might be able to fill some more in the future. It's a cute ship.