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The 12 Days of Christmas - Assassin's Creed

Chapter Text

On the First Day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

…A Partridge in a Pear Tree


Desmond blinked.

Where was he?

The last thing he remembered was touching the pedestal and brief but searing agony. The knowledge he activated the device was a distant ache, the burden of his decision lifting as he stood in this peculiar field full of waving wheat.

Desmond only experienced relief that he had at least given the world a chance, his father, Rebecca and Shaun were more than capable of ensuring that chance was as big as possible.


That voice was familiar, if not the epithet.

But how? Here?

Desmond turned from surveying the golden fields and saw a tall slender man, dressed in white robes in front of him. The hood was drawn back and Desmond’s throat closed.

“Grandson, why are standing here all alone? Don’t you wish to explore?”

Somehow Desmond got his voice to work. “Altair?”

The Assassin smiled. “Yes.”

“But how?”

Altair laughed, a strange experience for Desmond. “Haven’t you guessed Desmond? We are in Paradise.”


“The afterlife, heaven...whichever word is more familiar to you.”

Desmond swallowed and looked around. Endless azure sky, yellow wheat and a sweet smell that wafted on the gentle warm breeze. The scent…Desmond hissed.

A tree stood in the distance and even from where he stood, Desmond could see that it bore to bursting fruits of every kind: pears, apples, oranges, persimmons, lemons and so much more.


Altair’s heavy hand on his shoulder startled Desmond and he saw the tender expression in the dark brown eyes. It was strange yet reassuring.

“If you wish. Here everything is possible and only healing and joy exists. Rest grandson, you have done your duty. The others must do theirs.”

Nodding, Desmond asked, “Are my other ancestors here? What else is here?”

“Let me show you. And yes, grandson, they are all here, even Templars, for as I have discovered we are not so different in some respects.”

Desmond said nothing, too overawed.

Walking he could only touch the wheat, peer at the overflowing bountiful tree of life and stare at the endless sky, with his grandfather’s voice echoing in his ears.

He could rest at last. Heal. Meet his family.

Good luck Shaun and Rebecca, I’m waiting for you.


* * *

(I had to give Desmond a happy ending *sniff*)