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Assassin's Creed x Reader Oneshots

Chapter Text

"Jacob Frye I'm going to kill you when we get back to the train!" Evie calls from the roof across the street, the three of you running at an equally fast pace, Templars hot on your heels.

"How was I s'posed to know the cocky prick was actually a high ranking Templar?" He grins by your side, both of you leaping over a gap in the buildings, making you roll your eyes.

"Maybe the giant Red Cross on his cape!" She screams back.

"Honestly, stop pushing you're luck Jacob, if it's not Evie that's gonna kill you, it's Henry." You warn, making him scoff at you.

"Please, Greenie couldn't intimidate a fly." He chuckles. You can't help but huff as the three of you keep up your pace, the heavy footfalls of your enemies close still.
The plan was to infiltrate a Templar stronghold, free your captured Rooks and gather any intel on the piece of Eden, destroying any on the assassin's as you went. Jacob, however, soon got bored of that plan after you rescued and gathered everything you could and walked straight up to an unsuspecting Templar on your way out, who happened to be in a passing doorway, and punched him in the face, effectively knocking him out cold. He didn't account for another Templar walking down the corridor and swiftly calling his friends.
So now, the three of you are running down the streets of Westminster, aiming for the Thames and to lose them amongst the ship cargo, before making your way back to the train hideout. You're almost there, just another jump across buildings and then straight down onto the docks.

"You ready to get a bit wet, love?" Jacob chuckles, spying the upcoming water.

"I'm ready for a pint." You pant, the burn travelling across your chest and legs from running. He chuckles as the pair of you approach the gap. Evie is already at the docks on her side, making herself scarce amongst the ships and cargo, already mentioning that she'll meet you both at the train.
You try to control your breathing as you approach your jump, knowing it'll be a lot easier on your lungs if you time it with your land on the other side, before you put power in your legs, pushing yourself up and over the exceptionally large gap. However, there's a sharp pain in your ankle, making you stumble into your jump, effecting your lift by at least half, meaning you're body slams into the edge of the roof on the other side, rather than landing on your feet like Jacob. You try to gain some grip on the roof tiles, but your fingers slip uselessly on them and your foot gives out when you try to push up on the wall, sending you toppling to the floor below.
You can hear Jacob calling out for you, but also see a pair of Templars break off from the small group chasing you to land next to your crumpled form.
You see the culprit of your throbbing leg to be a throwing knife, baring the Templar insignia, embedded in the flesh, protruding through the other side. You watch the two approach you, with a searing pain now across your chest and a definitely broken arm, you're in no condition to fight.

"Where's (Y/N)?!" Evie questions almost as soon as Jacob enters the carriage alone.

"They got her. One of them threw a bloody throwing knife during our jump and it took her down." He explains, seething as he paces back and forth.

"Is she alive?" Henry asks, watching the twin cautiously.

"I don't know. If she is, she won't be for long with them." He mutters.

"Goddamnit Jacob! It's one thing to get us all into trouble with your antics but now (Y/N) might be-" Evie starts, her worry for you pushing her boundaries.

"I know Evie! It's my fault she might be dead, I know that!" Jacob snaps through gritted teeth. Silence falls on the three as the train slows to stop at the next station, having been hailed by one of the Rooks.

"I tried to stop, to help her..." Jacob mutters, his expression soft and regretful, words quiet and remorseful.

"Jacob, it's not your fault, (Y/N) knows you didn't mean for this to happen." Evie tries to assure her brother, knowing the not-so-secret love he holds for you. Although the male assassin thinks you're completely oblivious to his advances and blind to his love, you and Evie have discussed her twin's affections toward you many times, finding it rather funny that he hasn't yet plucked the courage to outright ask you. The great, fearless Jacob Frye, too scared and awkward to confess and ask to court you... it's sweet.

"Boss!" A Rook calls, suddenly boarding the train as it comes to stop at the station, "We've picked up (Y/N)." He urges, instantly stepping into action as Jacob and Evie follow him through the station and to a waiting carriage.

"What happened to her?" Jacob asks as he enters the carriage, another Rook at the reins.

"Some of the gang saw 'er fall from the roof when the knife hit 'er leg. They figured you 'ad it handled, but when they saw more of them blokes comin' an' surroundin' Miss (Y/N), they stepped in. She's messed up pretty badly." He explains, making the breath catch in Jacob's throat.

"Where is she now?" Evie asks, placing a steady hand on her brothers arm.

"Lambeth wiv Miss Nightingale, we didn't know where else to take 'er."

You'd passed out soon after watching the Rook's step in to save your ass from the Templars, but you'd woken up just as they'd put you on the hospital bed under the care of Florence Nightnigale, meaning you were unfortunate enough to still feel the immense pain racking your body and see the knife still sticking out of your leg.

"Oh god." You groan, already feeling the nausea creeping up on you, knowing what was coming next.

"Miss (Y/L/N), it's a pleasure to see you again, just not with you in the bed this time around." Florence greets, earning a pained smirk from you.

"The same goes for you Miss Nightingale." You groan.

"We're going to put you on morphine, but the knife and arm cannot wait, so my apologies for the pain." She explains, causing you to instantly regret the heavy sigh as your chest screams at you.

"What about my chest?"

"Bruised and a fracture but nothing's broken. We'll wrap that up in bandages, but most of it will be your own recovery time I'm afraid; no roof jumping or fighting for a good month." She instructs, bringing forth a needle and pressing it gently into your uninjured arm, feeding your veins the morphine that you crave to kick in soon. You can see her go to call over two of the Rooks that brought you in, before the doors swing open and Evie and Jacob burst in, eyes instantly settling in you.
They both call your name with exasperated sighs, approaching your bedside and soaking up your appearance.

"I'm so sorry." Jacob whispers, eyes lingering on your injuries and refusing to meet your gaze.

"Apologies Mr Frye, but you can express sympathies afterwards. Right now, I need the both of you to hold her down, preferably on her shoulders. She's not going to enjoy this and I'd rather her not open the wound further." Florence instructs causing you to groan as she moves to stand at the end of the bed.
The twins press with some force on your shoulders, both looking down at you with a rather sad reassurance.

"Shit." You mutter under your breath, awaiting the searing pain.

"On three, Ok (Y/N)?" Jacob offers softly, the feeling of hands holding down your legs by two other Rooks. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, brows furrowing in worry.

"One," Jacob starts, making you hold your breath, "two-" Evie joins, before Florence pulls the knife from your leg, causing your body to jolt and limbs attempt to thrash out as a scream rips through your lips and the twins since at your pain.

"Fuck." You sigh, head falling back onto the pillow.

"The bone has been scrapped, but nothing too serious. We'll stitch and wrap it and then you need to keep your weight off it for a couple of weeks." Miss Nightingale informs, causing you to roll your eyes.

"It felt serious." You mutter under your breath earning a chuckle from Evie and a small, but still guilty looking, smirk from Jacob.

"Now for that arm."

"Nonono, please, can't we wait for the morphine to work?!" You beg, not ready for the pain or the noise.

"I'm sorry Miss (Y/L/N), but it cannot wait in case it sets itself. We need to sort this as soon as possible." She replies, shaking her head slightly, working quickly on stitching up your leg, the pinch of that nothing compared to the pain in your chest.

Jacob had held you softly as they set your arm, trying to cover your ears from the noise, muttering apologies into your hair. Even whilst it was being put in a cast and the morphine began to kick in, he was still apologising.

Your eyes roll slightly as you pass in and out of consciousness from the morphine, Jacob's hands running gently through your hair as Evie talks with the Rooks, checking on those that were injured in the fight.

"I'm truly sorry love, I didn't mean for this to happen. If I knew then-" He starts again, a calloused thumb gently stroking your cheek and a hand holding onto your uninjured one.

"Jacob Frye, whether I remember this or not, if you apologise one more time I'm going to knock your block off." You slur, words jumbling together at the end, causing him to chuckle lightly.

"Miss (L/N) is free to do as she pleases now, I've done everything I can for her. She's welcome to stay here if necessary, but I seem to remember her distaste for hospitals the last time she was here." Miss Nightingale informs the twins, neither noticing you kicking the covers off until you tug against Jacob's hand.

"The train will suit me just fine." You mutter, attempting to stand before Evie gently pushes you back.

"Don't be too hasty, (Y/N)." She instructs softly, gathering your medication as you pout and struggle to sit upright, the room spinning slightly. Suddenly, arms tuck under your legs and back, hoisting you up into Jacobs' arms, prompting you to instantly wrap your arms around his neck.

"My Frye, what do you think you're doing?!" You breathe, meaning your words to be threatening, rather than the flustered squeak they turn out to be.

"Miss Nightingale said herself that you're not to put pressure on that leg of yours... which means you get you're own personal escort." He smirks, grinning down at you as you allow your head to roll back, too tired to keep it up.

"My own personal carriage." You correct, earning a curt 'oi' from the man, making you smirk lazily.

"You've got a really nasty bruise coming up on your forehead." Evie observes, touching the purpling skin as you lie on the train's couch. You wince and suck air through your teeth at the ache in your skull. "I'll get your medication prepared." She offers, bustiling out of the carriage with Mr Green, leaving you and Jacob alone.

The morphine is wearing off so all the aches and pains are swiftly coming back, along with your consciousness and memories from the hospital.

"(Y/N), I'm-" Jacob starts, already making you sigh.

"Jacob, dear, I appreciate that you're so ready and eager to take responsibility for what happened, but you have nothing to be sorry for." You interrupt, brushing it off easily.

"You could've died, love." He reminds, words careful and small.

"But I didn't.. I'm still here to drive you mad!" You cheer, lazily doing jazz hands as he watches, a smirk playing his lips as he shakes his head.

"I'm sure you drive me a lot madder than even you think, Miss (L/N)." He sighs.

"And what do you mean by that, Mr Frye?" You hum, patting the edge of the couch, urging him over. Carefully, he takes you up on the offer, balancing precariously on the edge, looking down at you, your head propped up amongst the plush cushions, bringing a hand up to stroke through your hair.

"It doesn't matter." He mutters, earning himself an eye roll from yourself.

"I think we both feel the same way about each other, Jacob." You tell him, words quiet in case of prying ears.


"Just kiss me." You insist, grabbing his collar with your good hand, tugging him down just enough to leave a gap between the pair of you, allowing him to make the decision to close that space. Your lips press together with a firmness of desperation and an apology.

"I think you might be right, love." He smirks, finally pulling away with a barely visible blush.

Chapter Text

"They send a bambini to do a man's work!" Ezio's taunt carries across from the fighting arena in front of the Auditore Villa to where you're waiting at the blacksmiths, causing you to roll your eyes. He is always so loud and cocky in open combat, even if it's just training. A distraction method he says, something to make the enemy angry enough to lose focus...
One day you're going to be patching up a wound from that method, you can feel it. Skilled assassin or not.
You listen to the clanking of metal both from the distant fight that is visible from your position and that of the blacksmith as he sharpens and straightens your sword. You'd recently had a run in with a group of Borgia guards harassing one of the thief guild and had leant your blade to end it. Ezio doesn't yet know that you're here, too focussed on his training with a group of mercenaries and Uncle Mario to have noticed you. A crowd is slowly forming too, courtesans, thieves and the general public taking an interest in the Master Assassin's skills.
Your line of work means that you and Ezio spend a fair amount of time apart, even though most of the time you're in the same city. It's only been three days this time around, but it was enough to make you miss him.

"Here you go, signorina." the Blacksmith announces, holding his work out proudly for you to take, making you smile at the gleaming metal.

"How much?" You ask, gesturing to your coin pouch.

"Free of charge, Signore Ezio told us about your aid with watching over Monteriggioni, consider it a thank you; as long as you put it to good use." He insists, nodding toward the fighting arena.

"Si, Signore, I will. Grazie." You grin, understanding his meaning and pulling up your assassin's hood. You make you're way toward the crowd of people, watching from the sidelines, unnoticed, as Ezio continues his fight with the mercenary, finally pinning him down.

"You fight like a ragazza." Ezio spits in jest, prompting another eye roll from you as you begin to push your way though the crowd.

"And what is wrong with that," You call, earning everyone's attention, standing on the stone wall of the ring, "Signore Auditore?" You smirk, unsheathing your sword and hearing the deep chuckle of Mario Auditore from the balcony, earning yourself a wink from the man.

"(Y/N)? When did you return to Monteriggioni?" He asks, a pain in his voice at not being told of your arrival.

"Just now." You reply, jumping down into the arena, "I've just had my sword sharpened and repaired... she needs breaking in. Preferably on an assassin who doesn't know how to hold his tongue." You tease, earning a wry smirk from the man.

"Then please, Signorina... I'll even give you a free shot." He hums, holding his arms open, sword gripped and ready.

"Ezio, please, this is practice, there would be no free shots in a real battle." You sigh, taking a few, cautious steps toward him.

"I mean, if you do not want-" He starts, but he's abruptly stopped mid-sentence as you lunge forward and take off a shoulder guard with a well aimed swipe.

"Never let your guard down, you taught me that one, amore mio." You grin.

"Ah, so you do listen to me, cara." He hums, mirroring your ready stance.

"When it suits me, si." You chuckle.

"Then let us test your listening skills." He challenges, already lunging for you.

Once news passed of the Master Assassin and his prodigy/lover fighting and testing their skills out on each other, the crowds grew, Ezio's mother and sister even joining, standing next to his Uncle who, judging by his whoops and hollers, is rooting for you.

"Why is it my whole family seems to be rooting for you... what did you tell them?" Ezio chuckles, breathing heavy as you keep up the pace.

"Well, to start, you've been arguing with your sister, so either way she will want me to kick your ass." You smirk, each movement burning your muscles, the fight easily stretching into its second hour. Both of your bodies are becoming sluggish, breathing laboured and skin hot. You both have your fair share of bruises and cuts, but only minor injuries due to your armour and thick fabrics of your robes. It's slowly becoming a test of stamina, rather than skill.

"How much longer can you really keep this up, (Y/N)?" He taunts, causing you to huff.

"How many more words can you speak before I cut off your tongue." You shoot back.

"Hey, there is no need for such threats." Ezio laughs, dodging a swing from your sword.

"Then stop taunting and focus on your own fighting." You warn, suddenly finding a bout of strength and lifting your leg to kick him in the stomach. He stumbles back, giving you time to swipe dirt up from the ground and throw it in his face. He coughs as he continues to stumble back, desperately trying to clear his eyes and protect himself. During his confusion, you make your way toward him, ready to swipe and claim your victory, but he swings his sword out in a last ditch attempt to save himself...

Damn him.

You feel pain in your abdomen, cursing yourself for leaving yourself open to such an attack and him for removing a piece of your torso's armour earlier in the fight.

"E-Ezio." You stammer, breath catching in your throat, pulling back and dropping your sword, hand coming up to press against your reddening robes. The crowds are still cheering, even his family, clearly not yet having realised exactly what's happened.

"That was a cheap move (Y/N)." Ezio chuckles, cleaning his eyes finally and watching you with dangerous eyes. However, his expression soon softens at seen your slack jaw and stumbling legs.
"Amore?" He calls again.

"This was only supposed to be practice, Ezio." You breathe, trying to lighten the mood as you drop to your knees.

"(Y/N)?! Merde!" Ezio cries out, dropping his own weapon in favour of running to your collapsed form, dropping to his knees and catching you before your back hits the floor. The cheering soon stops as Mario quickly comes into your view, Ezio's hands gripping yours as he tries to get a look at your wound.

"Stay with me... stay with me (Y/N)." He pleads as Mario calls for a doctor. You can see the sadness and worry in Ezio's eyes. He is reliving Cristina again.
He'd told you about her. His first love. It was then that you'd realised how much he trusted, respected and loved you... to tell you about his pain and loss, something so personal to him and he's entrusted you with that information, basically handing over his heart.
You love him too much to be the reason he has to go through that pain again.
But your vision is already going black around the edges.

"I'm sorry, bella." He whispers, tears welling in his eyes as you bring a hand up to cup his cheek.

"It isn't your fault, tesoro." You coo softly, trying so hard to stay awake, "It was a good fight, no?" You hum, a small smile playing at your lips.

"You were very good." He agrees, thumb gently stroking your cheek as a doctor appears at your side.

That dreaded mask.

"Ezio, please figlio, calm down." You hear Maria's voice call softly as you slowly become conscious again. Glancing around you see you're in Ezio's bedroom, your body disrobed with the sheets covering up to your hips, torso freshly bandaged with only a few speckles of blood where your wound is. You see Claudia sitting at your bedside, watching on with worried eyes as her brother paces the length of the room, their mother trying to take his arm and sit him down. 

No one had noticed you waking up yet.

"It's my fault that (Y/N) is currently lying in bed with a stab wound..." Ezio reminds, gesturing to you but looking anywhere but you.
You knew the risks of training... it doesn't even look that deep of a wound to be honest.

"(Y/N) will strangle you if you're still blaming yourself when she wakes, Ezio." Claudia comments, making you restrain a chuckle. She's right.

"I should be protecting her, not killing her." He mumbles, still pacing and caught in his own thoughts.
Oh Christ.

"Ezio! Stop being such an idiota and sit by her bedside. Be there for when she wakes up. If you feel this bad about what happened then you should be the first person she sees upon opening her eyes. Whomever's fault; it was an accident, so stop blaming yourself and wallowing in your self pity. (Y/N) would hate to see you like this." Maria scolds, abruptly stopping the young man's pacing.

"It's just like Cristina all over again... maybe I'm not cut out for love." He breathes.

"Smetti, Ezio." You sigh, drawing everybody's eyes to you "it's not your fault." You add, the assassin quickly rushing to your side.

"It is good to see you awake, (Y/N)." Claudia nods, smiling warmly before moving away and leaving the room with her mother, giving you and Ezio some space.

"Mio Dio, I thought I lost you bella." He says, mostly to himself, as he carefully takes your hand in his.

"I've had worse Ezio, you know that. Now stop treating me like glass." You scold, playfully taking your hand away to gently punch him in the shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He coo's.

"Ezio..." You sigh, watching his panicked, darting eyes.

"No apologising... got it." He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"What happened?" You ask, taking a hold of his hand gently, thumb rubbing lightly over his knuckles.

"I managed to find the one bit of you that wasn't covered by your armour... luckily I missed anything vital and the sword didn't go straight through so the doctor made it an easy patch up." He explains, the guilt in his eyes a wordless apology.

"Nipote, your sister told me she was awake." Mario calls, poking his head through the door.

"Ciao Mario." You reply, prompting him to enter further into the room.

"It is good to see you awake, piccola." He smiles warmly, "Ezio has been running around without his head ever since." He adds, chuckling as you squeeze Ezio's hand in assurance.

"To think that you have no problem missing me for weeks at a time when we're on separate missions, but I'm asleep for a few hours and you go crazy." You tease, watching him pout.

"Uncle, please don't give her further excuse to tease me so." Ezio basically pleads.

"Relax Ezio, I just wanted to check in, I shall leave you two alone now." He relents, hands coming up in surrender as he backs away.

"Grazie, Mario." You call as he shuts the door. "Now, Signore Auditore." You start, pursing your lip, watching him as he leans close.

"Uh oh, that is the 'You are in trouble' face." He sighs.

"You are, not only am I tired of seeing you look so guilty, but if I hear you say you're 'not cut out for love' again, I will personally assassinate you, Assassino." You growl slightly, watching him smirk and hiccup with a laugh as he leans down.

"That doesn't seem like too bad a way to go." He purrs, pressing his lips against yours.

"Watch it, amore." You hum, teasingly as you carefully bring your arms up to wrap around his neck as he clambers onto your bed, kissing your jawline softly.

"Always, cuore mio."

Chapter Text

"We got another one lads!" Edward shouts with triumph, raising his sword above his head and prompting the crew to cheer. You can't help but smirk and shake your head as you watch from where you're sat on the ship's rail.
You'd just captured a British Frigate after boarding for hand to hand combat, limiting the Jackdaw's cannon fire as much as possible so not to damage the enemy ship. Edward has had his eyes on plans for upgrades to his ship for a while and this Frigate will provide all the resources he'll need.
A lot of the crew surrendered once most of Kenway's crew boarded, pistols and swords ready and taking down their captain without an issue. You watch on with admiration as your captain jeers with his crew, celebrating alongside them as he holsters his weapons.

"When are you going to tell him?" Adéwalé suddenly asks, abruptly interrupting your thoughts and making you jump, clinging to the wooden rail for dear life in fear of falling into the water below.

"Jesus, where the hell did you come from Adé?!" Your breath, his expression unwavering as he awaits an answer. You clear your throat. "When I feel ready... he's the captain and an assassin... I'm just a member of his crew." You reply, shifting your eyes to look at the floor.
Edward and Adéwalé had picked you up almost a year ago now after you'd become marooned on an island after your shipwrecked. They'd been visiting on Assassin's business and you'd helped them get their target, knowing the nooks and crannies of the island like the back of your hand from being there so long. Edward was impressed by your fighting and stealth skills and, rather than just dropping you off in the closest town, he'd offered you a place amongst his crew on the Jackdaw.
The three of you had grown close ever since. Even meeting people you thought were only myths, like Blackbeard and James Kidd...

"You're not, Edward thinks highly of you. Now would be an ideal time to tell him." He replies, prompting you to look up at the blonde pirate, a giant grin plastered on his face.

"I am definitely not confessing my love to him around the crew!" You exclaim, words a quiet hiss.

"Edward," Adéwalé suddenly calls, prompting you to begin begging for him to stop, "come, (Y/N) has something to tell you." He continues after getting the captains attention. You glance over in time to see his grin become a warm, rather affectionate smile directed at you, before you turn back to the quartermaster, scowling.

"I will get you back for this." You growl, earning a small smirk from the man.

"(Y/N), what's wrong lass?" Edward asks, approaching you and basically trapping you where you're sitting.

"Um," you hesitate, swallowing hard as you try to think about what to say to the man. "Well done on the victory, cap'n!" You grin, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

"Ah, it was a group effort, you deserve as much praise as me." He insists, bringing a hand up to ruffle in your hair. "I say... rum to go around tonight lads!" He suddenly exclaims, earning a cheer from the crew at the proposal, as he begins to saunter away to the captains quarters. You breathe out, body washed with relief after that close call.

"You should've told him." Adéwalé sighs, making your jump again.

"Stop doing that!" You pout, catching Edward looking at you as you turn to face Adé. In an attempt to break the sudden tension you can feel creeping up on you at being held in the captains gaze, you stick your tongue out at him, causing him to smirk and continue on his way.


There's a code, if you will, that nearly every pirate goes by, especially the Jackdaw... after capturing a ship, strip all of its crew of their weapons and either throw them overboard, kill them or use them...
Everyone must've been so excited and caught up in this one being so important and easy that that rule slipped past everyone. And if just so happens you're going to pay the price for it.

"What the hell?!" Edward exclaims, turning away from the captain's quarters to see the deck suddenly in motion, one of the crew killing one of the redcoats as his pistol clatters to the floor.

That when he sees it... his (H/C) haired lass collapsing back and going overboard. Adéwalé calls her name and even tries to catch her, but Edward doesn't wait, pulling out his pistols and dropping them to the floor as he runs. He jumps onto the rails and dives into the sea after her. He fights against the water, cutting through it and following her down into the depths, the red wisps of blood only worrying him further and making it critical that he gets her back onto the Jackdaw quickly. His arms finally wrap around her waist, her form easily manipulating in his grasp due to her passing out, and he starts to swim back up to the surface with her.
The closer to breaching the water he gets, the more he's able to see the world above and how Adéwalé and some members of the crew have moved to the Jackdaw in an attempt to aid their captain.

"We've got her Captain." Adéwalé assures him and some of the crew bend down to grab her from the water, Edward swiftly clambering up after. "She's not breathing." He adds, listening closely to see if he could even hear the slightest breath leave her.

"Fuck." The assassin mutters as Adéwalé starts compressions. "What happened?" He growls, pinching her nose and pressing his lips against her's, breathing air into her lungs and trying to dislodge the water.

"One of the redcoats still 'ad 'is pistol on 'im, pulled it up so quick none of us even saw it." Someone replies from his left. There are a tense few moments between the group, until (Y/N) suddenly jolts up, coughing up water and gasping for air.

"You're ok lass." Edward coos rubbing her back softly and resting a hand on the back of her head.

"What d'you wan' us to do with 'em, Cap'n?" The same pirate from before asks.

"Whatever you want, just salvage what you can from their ship and leave it." He growls, hooking his arms under (Y/N)'s knees and back, hoisting her up into his arms. "Adé, set a course for the closest town, we need to get (Y/N) a doctor to check her over." He continues, heading toward his quarters.

"I'm fine, Edward." She tries, earning a scoff from the man.

"Lass, you basically drowned and you're bleeding from somewhere, you're far from fine."

You'd been set down in the Captain's Quarters, seeing the extent of the room for the first time, propped up by the plush pillows in Edward's bed, as he tends to the bullet in your shoulder. 

You can feel the heat in your cheeks at being in this position, the pain in your shoulder and chest nothing compared to the heavy weight of embarrassment weighing on you. You risk a look at the man, head rolling to the side as he pulls out the bullet fragments, some making you wince, with stern eyes and lips pressed into a thin line.

"How you feeling?" He asks, glancing up at you for a second.

"Ok, I guess." You huff with a laugh.

"Now truthfully." Edward prompts, raising an eyebrow at you.

"My chest and shoulder hurt." You admit.

"I'll patch you up the best I can, lass, but we're going to get a doctor to check you over." He assures, trading his tools for some bandages, wrapping them tightly around your arm, before giving you the all clear.

"You gave us all a scare today, (Y/N)." He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.


"Me and the crew... I know you only think you're one member of the ship, but-" He explains, causing you to huff in realisation.

"Has Adéwalé been speaking to you?" You question, noticing the guilty look in his eyes.

"Maybe... that's not my point. You are special to us (Y/N)... to me." He replies.

"I'm sorry, Edward." You sigh, body tired and eyelids becoming heavy.

"For what?"

"I know how badly you wanted those upgrades and I know the Frigate was important to them." You answer, causing him to smirk.

"You're more important lass... get some sleep. You'll be at the doctors in no time." He hums, brushing fingers lightly through your hair.
That's enough to lull you into sleeps calm embrace.

You're woken by the slight jostle of being carried down the ship's gangway, as Edward carries you onto an islands dock and toward its town.

"Fancy seeing you 'ere, Kenway." A familiar voice calls from their own ship.
"Thatch, pleasure as always, but I've gotta get movin'." Edward replies, the rumble in his chest from his words obvious against your body making you shiver slightly.

"What 'appened?" He asks, joining Edward's side and you can feel the older captains eyes on you as they walk.

"Shot and drowned. Stupid Frigate and-" he growls, "I should've paid attention, I could've stopped him."

"Calm down Edward, she's a strong one, she'll bounce back." He promises, making you smile slightly, opening your eyes just enough to see.

"Maybe he'll believe you." You breathe, body still tired but mind fully awake.
"See, she's already cracking jokes." Thatch chuckles.

"Yeah, well she was saying she was fine earlier." Edward dismisses, barging into the closest physicians office.

After giving you the once over, Edward staying close and turning away at the appropriate times, the doctor had diagnosed you with a couple of bruised ribs and managed to clean up your wound, dressing it properly and administering some medication.

He'd also informed you that there'd be no running, fighting or generally getting out of bed for the next few days at least, which caused you to groan.

"I'm sorry Edward." You sigh, feeling guilty for all the trouble you're causing.

"Stop apologising lass, you cant help it." He assures, a warm smile gracing his lips, sitting at your bedside and bringing a hand up to hold yours. "We've started installing the upgrades, so the ship isn't moving for a couple days anyway." He grins.

"But your missions... I thought you had a mission for the assassins?" You stammer, watching his eyes go soft at the forgotten thought.

"It can wait."

"No, Edward, it's important!" You insist, watching him refrain from rolling his eyes at you. He knows you're right, the assassin's had specifically set this to the top of his priority list, and just taking a few days off for ship upgrades is pushing it.

"I'll still be here when you get back." you promise, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.

"I'm not going to leave you-"

"Me and my crew are staying here for a few days." Thatch suddenly interrupts from where he's leaning against the doorframe. "She can stay with us until you get back." He offers.

"What if we don't make it back in time? The Jackdaw needs to go up north and I don't know how long it'll take." Edward worries, turning to the other captain.

"Then she can come with us. From here we're going back to Havana for a few weeks so you can meet up with her there. I'll make sure she won't get into any trouble and sticks to the doctor's orders." He explains, making you nod in appreciation.

"You're ok with this?" Edward asks you, the furrow of his brow showing his worry and that he himself isn't too happy with the plan.

"Sounds good... I'll be fine Edward, trust me. I'm sure Thatch will make sure I don't die." You chuckle.

"Kidd will be joining us here soon too, he's been asking how you are. Let me know what you decide Edward, and when you're leaving." He finishes, leaving the room.

"I'll wait if you wish it, lass." He tries again, making you sigh with a warm smile.

"You heard Thatch, James will be here soon... If he catches you here when you should be doing a mission for the assassin's, he'll gut you." You tease. "I'll be fine." You assure, dropping your voice to a soft, quiet tone, word like velvet. "Then you can buy that rum you promised the crew." You add, making him laugh.

"OK." He huffs, smirking as he gives in, "If I don't catch you before you leave here, I'll see you at Havana." He finishes, standing and making to leave.

"Don't even think about forgetting about me, Kenway." You joke.

"Never, lass." He grins, coming close and pressing a kiss to your cheek before leaving the room.

Chapter Text

You could cut the tension between you with a knife. The only noise between the pair of you is the steady, even 'thumping' of the horses hooves as you ride towards Viana, toward Cesare Borgia. You know Ezio isn't meaning to be cold toward you, but it still hurt how distant he's been since the pair of you left Roma and began tracking Cesare to Spain. He hasn't really said anything other than basic, one word answers since your departure and they definitely didn't show any love or affection, it was just pure business and a form of bloodlust that was beginning to scare you. You know what this man did; this, Cesare Borgia. You were there are the Seige of Monteriggioni and had to help it's residents escape after watching Cesare kill Mario Auditore and you had to help Ezio in anyway you could after he'd gotten shot. You'd even walked by the horses side after he'd collapsed, walking by his side whilst he was on horseback all the way to Rome in search of Machiavelli.You know how much pain this one man and his paste (plague) of a family had caused your amato (beloved) because Ezio's family was like your own. After he'd taken you into the brotherhood, you'd grown close to his sister and begun to know and understand their tragic tale of death and betrayal. It was about time they could all settle down with people who would be there for them, rather than stand with a knife behind their backs.

"This must be it then." You breathe as your horses take you up onto a cliff top, the town in front of you bathed red with blood and flames, the sounds of fighting and death reaching your ears.

"It appears so." He mutters, still keeping himself distant. As you travel further forward, your eyes lie on a field, littered with the dead and dying, even more standing and fighting against the Borgia guards. It's then that Ezio suddenly kicks his horse sharply with his heels, sending it bolting forward at a fierce pace, before dismounting, stumbling slightly, but continuing with his own run.You watch, too stunned to move as he brings his hidden blade up, almost ending the battle there and then, but Cesare manages to see him in time to catch his arm. You can see them talking- snarling at each other, before Ezio finds a bout of strength, overpowering the other man just enough to dislodge some of his armour.

"Kill him! Kill the assassin! Tear the malidito bastardo (old fucker) to pieces!" Cesare's voice carries over the field as he begins to flee, a swarm of guards descending on Ezio, sending you into action. Your horse starts running to the action, readying your blade to aid your mentor in battle as he makes quick work, killing six of the guards one after the other.However, there's a loud shot, cannon fire ringing through the air and an explosion too close to the man, sending him, and the group of guards, tumbling away from one another. You cry out his name as you urge your horse to speed up, approaching the still form of your beloved, tugging hard at the reins of your horse to stop once you're close.

"Ezio? Ezio, per courtesia-! (please)" You call, dropping to your knees to push the dead guard from his legs, before cupping his face in your hands. He groans slightly, making you breath out a pent up sigh in relief. "Grazie dio! (Thank god!)"

"Where is Cesare?" He groans, pushing himself to his feet, almost flinching out of your grasp.

"He retreated into the battlements." You reply, slightly shocked at the growl he lets out at the news.

"You didn't think to stop him?" He accuses, stalking forward and away from you, to grab your startled horses.

"You would rather me leave you here on the battlefield?" You ask, getting on the defensive.

"If it was between leaving me or killing the bastardo, si, I would rather you complete our mission." He scolds, the cowl over his face making his expression even more sour.

"Well, maybe, if you didn't go charging in, neither of us would've lost the target!" You argue, becoming irritated with the flack Ezio is giving you. The air is silent between the pair of you as you, as both of you think over your own actions. "I don't want you to get hurt or worse Ezio. If it means you are returning home to the brotherhood, your mother and sister; I'll always choose you over him." You remind, voice dropping to a calmer tone as you take your horse and mount it.

"I'm sorry, bella." He apologises, mounting his own horse and joining you at your side. You smile warmly at him and nod your head in appreciation, assuring there are no hard feelings. "We need munitions." He adds, swiftly getting back into business and setting his horse to gallop forward. You nudge your horse with your heels, making it follow Ezio's horse as you make your way along the road. You can still hear the fighting and distant sounds of cannon fire in the distance, making the anticipation of battle creep upon you."The bridge ahead; we need to jump it." Ezio calls in warning, directing your attention to a fairly large gap in the broken bridge. You nod, nudging your horse to speed it up, making sue not to jump the horse until Ezio has jumped the gap, landing closely behind him and both of you continuing along the trail at a quicker pace.You continue to travel through the ruined olive fields, until close cannon fire strike the floor, sending you off your horse, trapping your legs under it's dead form, Ezio himself scrabbling from his own animals corpse. You cry or as you try to move, the bone of the animal digging into your legs, pinning you to the floor.

"(Y/N)!" Ezio suddenly calls, appearing at your side, shunting the horse's body with his shoulder, using his elbow and hand to hold it up, giving you enough room to wiggle out from under it. "Are you Ok?" He worries, standing to his feet and checking you over, making you smile slightly. There was the Ezio you missed.

"I'm fine, amore mio (my love). " You hum, cupping his cheek to calm him, making him smile in return. "Come, let us end this." You offer, taking a few steps down the road, before turning back to face him.

How could a man do this?You and Ezio have seen Cesare enter the burning town of Viana, with guards at his side, walking forward with purpose and without a care for anything around him. It's makes you feel slightly nauseous. You would've taken out the bastard now if you could, but there wasn't anyway to get to him without being tackled by guards first. You sensed that Ezio is going through the same internal struggle as you and your strength of restraint is only tested further as a woman runs at Cesare, screaming about her son. Two guards immediately grab her, shunting her out of the way of the Borgia scum and stabbing her once in the stomach, leaving her to die on the floor, after spitting on her.

"Pezzi de merda. (Piece of shit)." You growl, your voice barely above a whisper as you watch the pair saunter off. "Ezio, we have to help these people." You mutter.

"I know it is hard, but there is nothing we can do for them now. Most will escape and we can offer our blade on the way through, but our main target is Cesare." He replies, making a knot form in your stomach. You know Ezio is right, but that doesn't make it feel any less shitty.So, you head off, continuing your mission, in hopes this'll be the last time you have to do anything against the Borgia's, excited for their reign to end. As promised, you led your hand in a fight as you battle your way through the castles exterior fortifications, you and Ezio keeping an eye on one another as you usually do on the battlefield. More of habit than doubt in one another's abilities. 

"(Y/N), up there." He calls ,directing your attention to the top of the battlements. You start running with him, refraining from getting into unnecessary fights, despite having to cut through what you would call a battlefield in the centre of the town, and follow him to a burning down siege tower. "We need to climb it." 

"Ezio, are you crazy? That is basically suicidio! (Suicide!)" 

"It's the quickest way."

"Not if we're dead!" You argue, watching him already start to scale the charred wood. With a groan, you follow close behind, calling the outer building before climbing ladders inside. Upon reaching the top, you can hear the unmistakable splintering and cracking of the wood, the floor beneath your feet shaking and suddenly dropping as one of the supports gives out.

"Jump!" Ezio orders, grabbing your hands and jumping to the closest ledge, pulling you close so you both land in a haystack. The par of you scrabble out and begin to run along the rooftops, sticking close to one another. If this wasn't such a dire situation, it would remind you of the happy days with the Brotherhood back in Rome, running along the tiled roofs, racing one another and even spending your time with Ezio just strolling sky high. Sometimes you ran with your hands clasped with one another's, the feeling of being safe and loved warming your chest. How you wish you can reach for his hand now.

"Over there." Ezio instructs, directing your attention to where Cesare is battling through guards on the battlements. The pair of you jump down to the ground below, both air assassinating guards, before running up a staircase and stopping at the base of another siege tower. You groan slightly as Ezio begins climbing, your thighs already beginning to burn, and follow suit. Your arms scream out at you, the muscles strained and burning as you push yourself to the top of the tower, standing with your mentor and trying to control your breathing.

"Are you ready?" He asks, taking your hand and squeezing lightly. You nod with a fiery determination in your eyes, worried that your words will fail you if you speak. You part and walk along the battlements, before your eyes lie on Cesare Borgia.

"Cesare!" Ezio calls, grabbing the man's attention as he slaughters another innocent, "The walls surround you. There is no where to run." The pair of you walking forward, toward the man, strong and empowered, as he turns to face you, sword unsheathed and his own determination plastered to his face.

"Come then, Ezio! Bring your puttana (whore) and let us end this!" He spits, trying to get a rise from the pair of you. You can already see the guards emerging from the other end of the battlements, making your growl in distaste. Of course Cesare would have backup and cheat.

"You take care of that fottere (fuck), I will make sure you're not interrupted." You offer, making a beeline for the guards.

"Hello, bambini (little girl)." A guard greets, just before you slice his neck with your hidden blade.

"Does anybody else wish to make intimidating or demeaning comments before I pull your innards out?" You growl. A guard runs at you, but you easily dodge and use his own sword to run through his stomach, not even seeing him fall to the ground as you deflect another attack.

"I am the best fighter who ever lived." You hear Cesare start, making you roll your eyes slightly, glancing over to se Ezio push him back. "Give up Auditore. You are no match for me." You can't help but scoff as you finish off the last guard, ready to help aid the master assassin if he calls for you. It's then that you see more guards swarm into view, making your groan as the pair get into close quarters with one another, Ezio bringing forth his hidden blade and raising it, Cesare catching his arm and trying to push away.

"I will hunt and kill all the people you hold dear." Cesare threatens, "Starting with il tuo tessera (your treasure)... Or maybe I'll keep her around and-" He starts, sneering at the other man and making you shiver with disgust, before Ezio cuts him off by dislodging a piece of his armour. This continues, more guards joining the fight and, despite your ever tiring limbs, you continue to keep them from disrupting Ezio and Cesare's fight, ignoring the slander tumbling from the Borgia's lips and dispatching everyone as quick as you're able.It's when you look over again, all guards lying dead on the floor around you, that you see Ezio leap up, knocking down Cesare Borgia and bringing forth his hidden blade. You move to stand at the Master assassin's side as he kneels at the dying man's side, holding his head up as he gives his final breathes.

"The throne was mine." Cesare gasps, malice lacing his words as he glares up at the pair of you.

"Wanting something does not make it your right." Ezio reminds, making the man scowl.

"What do you know? What do either of you know?!" He spits, making you smirk as you place a hand on Ezio's shoulder.

"That a true leader empowers the people he rules." You reply, squeezing Ezio's shoulder lightly.

"I will lead mankind into a new world." The Borgia son says, his words almost sounding like a promise, making you roll your eyes slightly.

"Che nessuno ricordi iltuo nome. (May no one remember your name)." Ezio begins, "Requiescat in pace. (Rest in peace)." You join him with the final three words out of respect for the brotherhood and the dead.

"You cannot kill me. No man can murder me!" Cesare argues. He sounds like a spoilt child, making you hold back a groan at his persistence to remain alive.

"Then I will leave you in the hands of fate." Ezio growls, obviously becoming tired of the man's antics as well. You watch as Ezio pulls Cesare to his feet, dragging him to the side of the battlements and holding him over the edge. You join your mentor at his side as he releases his hold, letting the man tumble from his grasp and fall to the floor below, dead.

Word spread quickly after that; of the assassin's victory against the Borgia and of your and Ezio's victory over Cesare. You'd returned to Rome together, greeting those that you held dear and joining them to tie up a few loose ends relating to the Apple of Eden and any Templar targets that managed to scurry away into the woodwork. A few days later you joined with them again, but for a drink at the Sleeping Fox,finally feeling like you could relax and enjoy a time where there is no conflict and injustice. However, to refrain from drinking, you'd retired yourself to the roof, opting to look up at the stars and over the landscape, reminiscing with yourself on how your time has been spent and what it might hold in the future.You're so caught up in all your thoughts and memories that you don't hear Ezio join you until he sits at your side.

"Everyone has been wondering about you, bella." He starts, leaning down slightly to kiss at your shoulder, "What are you doing up here alone, when all your friends are downstairs?"

"I am just... thinking. I did not really feeling like drinking tonight." You reply, honestly.

"You look troubled. What is it you are thinking about?" He asks, browns furrowing slightly."My life." You start, shrugging your shoulders a little. "About how it has gone and if I have spent my time wisely. My parents wished me a life full of elegance, riches and reputation... but I chose the life of killing, justice and secrecy. What does that say about me? Does it make me a good person; a desirable person?" You explain, sighing slightly at the thought of your family and their disapproval.

"I think it makes you one of the better people, si. You fight for freedom and what is right, to help the people of Roma and the world... what is more desirable than that?" Ezio replies, making you smile warmly.

"And what do you think about this life?"

"It has had its tragedies but..." Ezio hums, his mind being cast back to the start of his time in the brotherhood and, what he'd call, his passage into adulthood, "It is a good life we lead brother... and may it never change." He mutters, making you share a small smile with him, not out of pity or remorse, but respect. Ezio's family sounded wonderful and you only wish you could've met them all. "My time with you has become my greatest memory, my time with the brotherhood has become my greatest triumph and I look forward to see what is to come next. What about you, bella?" He asks, trying to lighten the heavy mood.

"I enjoy this life much more than the one of a Roman noblewoman. Although death is a constant... I know we are helping people are doing what is right. I think I've led the best out of my life and it only was made better with you in it. Mi hai cambia to last vita. (You changed my life)." You sigh, falling to your side slightly to rest against Ezio, head sitting on his shoulder as he leans back on his hands.

"Si. I agree." He smirks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his own on yours. "The only thing that could make this life better now, would be-"

"If I we're pregnant." You finish. Ezio has been talking about starting a family for a while now, but after the Borgia has been wiped out. He wanted a family of his own to cherish and protect... in someways you cant help but feel like it is to try and redo what happened to his family before. But, building a family with the Master assassin is something that you also crave dearly and now, finally, you can provide. There's a silence between you, where you start to wonder if he was going to understand. When it's clear he isn't, you pull away slightly, looking up at him and catching his gaze, making him frown slightly.

"What is it (Y/N)?" He asks, eyes filling with a sense of worry when you don't reply.

"Ezio... seriously?" You scoff in slight disbelief 


"Mio Dio, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"What?! I do not understand-!" He chuckles awkwardly, before he stops himself, thinking back on your words. You watch in amusement as the cogs turn, his eyes casting down to your belly and back to your eyes. "(Y/N), are you- bella, are you?" He stammers, unsure of himself and holding back his excitement.

"Mm-hm." You nod in confirmation, sending him into a frenzy.

"You are pregnant?! Che bello! Fantastico! (That's great! Fantastic!)" He exclaims, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips hastily covering yours as you can't help but smile into it, tears threatening to prick your eyes. He quickly pulls away, pressing his hands to your stomach and gently feeling the clothed flesh, even going as far to bend down and kiss the center, making you laugh more. "(Y/N), amore mio... this is amazing! When did you find out?" He breathes, words exasperated.

"When we returned to Roma... I was feeling unwell and went to the doctor where he told me I was pregnant." You hum, a warm, rather satisfied smirk on your lips as seeing the man you love so excited.

"Ezio!" A voice suddenly calls, interrupting the pair of you and making you look down at the courtyard where La Volpe, Machiavelli, Bartolomeo and his wife Pantasilea, Claudia and Maria and Leonardo are standing, looking up at you. "Are you going to stay up there bickering all night or come down and celebrate with us?!" Bartolomeo continues, his voice echoing through the air around you.

"Can we tell them?" Ezio asks quietly, turning to you and making you laugh, beckoning him to climb down with you.

"Yes Ezio, they're going to find out either way." You remind, standing next to him as the group approach you once you're safely in the ground.

"I hope my brother wasn't boring you to death, (Y/N)." Claudia jests, making you chuckle.

"For someone who does a good job at holding her alcohol, you're not drinking much." La Volpe observes, making you smirk with anticipation.

"Go ahead." You whisper, nudging Ezio in the side.

"Well- um- I-" Ezio stammers, suddenly stumbling over his words easily and making you giggle. For someone so confident and suave, the reality and excitement seems to have dawned and nerves have kicked in.

"Ezio," you start, knowing that you're going to be here all night otherwise, "is going to be a father." You finish, making the group around you gasp and coo, immediately approaching the pair of you with hugs and congratulations.

"Better get the drink in now then, eh compagno? (companion?)" Bartolomeo chuckles, nudging Ezio in his side.

"So, Piccolo, how is married life?" Maria asks, sitting down in the lounge of your and Elio's Villa, tucked away in Venice, away from any prying eyes of foes of the assassin's.

"Especially to fratello mio. (my brother)." Claudia scoffs in jest, making you chuckle.

"It is good, he is a model husband and father. Although, I think he's encouraging the children into the assassin life a little quicker than I thought he would." You reply, smiling warmly at the pair as you cradle your cup of drink in your hands.

"Are you talking about me again, amore mio?" Ezio calls gently, a warm smirk on his face as he enters the room, pulling his hood down and moving over to press a kiss to your temple.

"She only has good things to say about you, figilio mio. (my son)." Maria assures.

"Papa, papa!" Two young voices call from down the hall, quickly approaching and clambering over Ezio. The twin girls begin to climb up the master assassin as he laughs, grabbing them by their waists and spinning them around once.

"Ah, gatti e bambini— piu belli da piccini. (Ah, cat's and chidren — the younger they are the lovelier they are)." Ezio chuckles, making you stifle your own laughter.

"Ezio, don't say that when the children are here." You sigh, shaking your head slightly.

"They know I'm only joking, bella." He laughs, sitting down next to you as he brings one of the twins to sit on his lap, the other running over to be picked up by Maria.

"Papa and his friends are teaching us to fight!" she exclaims, thrusting her fists out into a fighting stance.

"He better not be." You warn, eyeing the man as he cowers slightly with an awkward smile. "We'll talk about it later."

"Leonardo was working on your family portrait earlier, it looks magnifico. He says that he is visiting later to deliver it." Claudia informs, an excited smile on her face at your face lighting up.

"Oh, I told him so many times that he didn't need to do this. The man is too kind." You reply.

"I will find someway to repay him if he won't accept our money." Ezio promises.

"I think it is probably best that you just keep your friendship strong, than try to force a gift upon him. He wants to give you this as a token of his gratitude and friendship; you should do the same by respecting that he doesn't want anything in return." Maria explains, making you nod in agreement.

"Would you like to stop for dinner, Maria, Claudia? We have plenty to go around." You offer, earning an eager nod from your sister in law.

"That'd be lovely, grazie (Y/N)." Maria smiles warmly.

"Carina, Rosa, come girls, let's get dinner ready, si?" You coo gently, watching the two girls run to you. Hoisting Rosa up to rest on your hip, you walk into the adjacent kitchen, Carina holding your hand. The three watch you leave and you can feel Ezio's loving eyes watching your back as you get everything down from the shelves.

"Your father would be very proud, figillio mio." Maria suddenly interrupts his thoughts.

"Federico and Petruccio too." Claudia adds, smiling warmly.

"Ah, grazie... I am very lucky." Ezio replies, giving a beaming smile to the two women.

"Si, you are." You jest, making the man laugh, looking back over to you. "Ti amo, Ezio." You hum, walking in and pressing a kiss to his temple. You begin to walk away, but Ezio's hands on your waist pull you back.

"Sei il grande amore della mia vita. (you are the love of my life)." He coo's making you laugh as he presses a kiss to your lips.

Chapter Text

It was a fairly normal day for you, roaming the streets of Paris, avoiding your tutors and lessons, managing to duck out of your villa during the lunch hour. You meander the streets, taking in all the glorious sights and smells of the richly coloured streets, making sure to avoid any areas that are linked with the revolution. You knew most of the streets where fights would break out and protests would begin and you don't really feel like getting yourself trapped in one.
This is why your father would rather you be at your home, studying and avoiding the busy city streets without an escort... but an escort just tied you down. You weren't able to do as your pleased whilst constantly being tailed by one of your father's guards, hence why you snuck out.
It used to be the odd occasion, just whenever you needed a break and knew the streets would be calm. But, recently, you'd had an insufferable itch to sneak out and experience more of the city and find areas untouched by your eyes.
Most days you were lucky, able to avoid a crowd of people and riots, sometimes with only a few seconds to spare, but it appears today isn't one of those days.
You can already hear the chanting surrounding you from all angles as crowds circle the area you're in.

"Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira
Le peuple en ce jour sans cesse répète,
Ah ! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira
Malgré les mutins tout réussira!"

Your frantic eyes begin to look for a way out, any way to squeeze through the impenetrable walls off people as they approach the rod of buildings they've decided to descend upon.
"Merde!" You mutter, panic rising in your throat, as your palms become sweaty and heartbeat almost erratic. Nausea begins to win in your head and you can feel the sting of bile rising in your throat as panic immobilises you and you freeze up. Body's push against your's as you start to get swept up with the people, the feeling of hands grabbing and moving you making tears spring to your eyes. An elbow suddenly strikes the side of your face, the feeling of it against your cheekbone making you cry out and tears trickle through your makeup as the stinging throb immediately starts.
It's then that you see a blue figure heading directly for you, a hood covering his face as he grabs your hand and leads you out of the mob, people parting almost at his will as he tugs you gently along. His thumb softly brushes against yours, running over your knuckles in an attempt to calm you as he walks you out and into a quieter street.

"Are you OK, mademoiselle?" He asks, his voice soft as silk and filled with the concern he can't show with his eyes.

"Oui... Merci." You breathe, trying to control your heartbeat as your chest heaves and you try to stop yourself from hyperventilating, wiping the tears from your face.

"Are you sure? You look like you're panicking." He mutters, trying to observe your face as it hangs low, your eyes boring into the floor and trying to ground yourself. When you don't reply, he takes your other hand and begins to lead you down the street, your feet easily following his and mind not even thinking about the dangers of following a stranger, too caught up in its own thoughts and worries.

"Mademoiselle?" The stranger calls again, prompting you to look up at him, raising an eyebrow in question. "Your name? May I know your name?" He requests, eyes flicking to where you were struck.

"Um- (Y/N) , (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." You smile, warm but small.

"Arno Dorian." He replies, nodding his head once before ushering you into a cafe, sitting you down at a table and taking the seat opposite, before a woman approaches with a tray of coffee and tea cakes.

"Nice to see you back in one piece this time, Arno, and with a lady?" She hums, smirking down at the man in blue. "Have you removed your hood or just letting her sit with a stranger?" She criticises, a playful bite to her words.

"Please, Charlotte, she's just suffered a panic attack and been hit, I'm trying to help out with getting her a drink. Can you get a wet cloth too?" He pleads, tugging his hood down to please the other woman, without realising your eyes widening slightly and the breath being caught in your throat.
He's beautiful.
His brunette fringe is pushed just far enough from his face to show all his defined features, hair tied back into a loose pony, with some strands breaking free from their ties. There's a shadowing of a beard, the stubble covering what you make out to be a sharp jawline.

"Lucky the cafe is closed today, eh? Hero of the day again, it seems." She hums, before laying out everything on the table and leaving you to it.

"Sorry about that, Charlotte owns the cafe and she likes to tease me... She's harmless really." He chuckles, trying to distract you and lighten the situation. "How are you feeling?" He asks, clearing his throat and pushing a cup of coffee, a small jug of milk and a plate with a rather delicate looking cake on.

"Better, thank you, Monsieur Dorian." You nod, pouring some milk into the black coffee, adding a spoon of sugar, before stirring and taking a sip.

"Just Arno, please, there's no need for formalities." He smirks, taking his own drink and adding two sugars and no milk, making you inwardly grimace.

"Well, just Arno, thank you for rescuing me back there... I normally manage to avoid such large crowds and riots." You tease, warming up at the sight of an amused smirk gracing his lips.

"How's your cheek? It looks pretty red." He observes, making you sigh.

"Ce n'est pas grave (It doesn't matter), someone elbowed me by accident. I forget how excited and carried away people get during those things." You reply, gently touching the throbbing skin, holding in a hiss as you pull away.

"If you don't mind me asking, what were you doing out alone? Pardon my frankness, but you look like you should either be with a tutor or an escort." He asks, trying to avoid causing any offence, not that you'd take any.

"I don't like the life picked out for me." You shrug, putting it simply. "I love mon père, but since my mother passed, he's been a lot stricter on my education, insisting that he only wants the best for me, both financially and romantically. He seems to forget that marrying me off for the sake of my suitor's income doesn't necessarily mean I will like my partner. I mean, he and ma mère loved each other dearly and didn't allow inheritance to come into the equation, but now that the revolution is in full force and I'm not yet married off, he worries for my future... Sneaking out by myself is the only freedom I receive anymore." You sigh, playing idly with the handle of your cup, before cutting into the cake with your fork and taking a small piece. However, you quickly realise just how much you've spoken and how most of your words were probably classed as inappropriate for the situation. "Oh mon Dieu, pardon, that was very personal and- I didn't mean to ramble." You stammer, realising just how easily you found it to talk to this man, who's basically a stranger, and feel comfortable in his presence. His chuckling interrupts your thoughts.

"No need to apologise, Mademoiselle (Y/L/N), it sounds like a lonely life..." He hums, making you nod your head slowly, easily calming your nerves again.

"I promise, Arno, that it's not a common occurrence for me to follow strangers to a cafe and spout all my personal details and problems." You smile, fiddling with your fingers awkwardly.

"I don't doubt it, you seem like a respectable woman who just needed some help. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time... it happens to us all at some point." He shrugs, easing you further into a sense of calm.

You walk, your arm linked with Arno's as you go through the lamplit streets of Paris. You'd spent nearly your whole day with a man you barely knew... known. The pair of you had chatted over a coffee and then gone to the cafe's garden, enjoying the warm weather and chatted and laughed the time away. 

You've quickly grown a fondness for him.

"Thank you for walking me home Arno. My father is probably going to throw a fit when he sees the mark on my face... if he isn't already over me being away from my lessons." You groan slightly, purposefully making your pace slow, so to delay the inevitable scolding and to spend more time with your new companion.

"My pleasure, madem-" He begins, before you chuckle slightly, making him glance at you with a confused expression.

"You said yourself: 'There are no needs for formalities'." You remind, "Please, just call me (Y/N)." You hum, catching the smile on his face.

"Ok, (Y/N)." He nods, saying your name as if testing how it sounds in his own voice.
Silence falls between you as you both just enjoy walking along the cobbled streets, the night air fresh and moonlight cascading down brightly from above. You shudder slightly as a sudden gust of air whips over your skin and ruffles your skirts.

"Are you cold?" Arno asks, noticing how you're trying to stop your teeth from chattering.

"The temperature has dropped slightly." You nod, anticipating the warm fire that is probably already crackling back at your home. Suddenly, fabric is draped over you, Arno having slipped his arm from yours and placed his hooded coat over your shoulders.

"Arno, no- you'll get cold. It's not fair for you to walk me home and suffer the weather as well." You argue, making to shrug the coat off and hand it back, before he presses his hands onto your shoulders, preventing you from doing so.

"I insist. I'll be fine." He assures, smiling warmly at you and holding out his arm once more.

"You're being so kind to me." You sigh, linking your arm with his again and a feeling of contentment washing over you.

"How else would I treat such a belle dame (beautiful lady), such as yourself?" He asks, making the breath catch in your throat. "This is you?" He adds before you manage to think of how to reply, gesturing to the street.

"Oui." You reply, voice quiet as you think over his words.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the door and help explain what happened to your father so he doesn't worry so much." He offers.


Your father had been livid. Not only had he found that you'd snuck out, but you hadn't returned all day an when you finally did, it was a stranger on your arm. He didn't look too sure whether he wanted to kill you or Arno. However, Arno had insisted and managed to get him to listen, not exactly clearing you from the punishment of chores and an eye on you for the rest of the week, but managed to calm your father down.

"It's not that I believe you to be spending your days with random, strange men, (Y/N), but you must be careful walking the streets on your own, ma Cherie." Your father sighs, cupping your injured cheek lightly with a hand, "I worry about you."

"Je connais, mon père. (I know, father)" You hum lightly, a look of apology in your eyes.

"Thank you for keeping my daughter safe, monsieur Dorian." He says, pulling his hand from you and directing his attention to your new companion. Arno simply nods in reply, a warm, appreciative smile on his lips.

"I'll see you out." You offer, walking out of the lounge, leaving your father behind, with him to the front door. "Thank you for helping me explain everything to my father." You sigh under your breath, an awkward tone to your words.

"It was no trouble." He chuckles in response, easing your mind. "Can I see you again?" He asks, catching you by surprise slightly.

"Oh- um, oui, I'd like that... I just might have to have an escort with me this time." You stammer, laughing slightly.

"I'll keep in touch, Mademoiselle (Y/L/N)." He replies, bowing low, causing you to scoff, nudging the man slightly.

"I look forward to it." You both grin, before he makes his way down the porch steps as you shut the door.
Afterwards, you decide to retire to bed, saying goodnight to your father and making your way upstairs, shutting your bedroom door behind you. You move to shut your curtains so you can begin undressing when you see a figure on the rooftop across from you.
You can't help but jump, slightly startled at seeing him, but the shadow cast by his cowl shows just enough of a smirk for you to know who it is. Opening your window, you step out onto your balcony, approaching the stone walls, where a single rose is lying, a red ribbon wrapped around its stem.

"À la prochaine, belle dame. (See you next time, beautiful lady)." He calls softly, before disappearing over the rooftop.

Chapter Text

It's not that you didn't like Arno, in fact, although you don't show it, you love him, hence your newly formed relationship. However, you were brought up with the creed from a young age, so, therefore, have it basically drilled into you not to let personal feelings compromise your mission or the brotherhood itself.
So, your solution is to not show any feelings at all so it can't be traced back to being romantically involved with your fellow assassin, in case the Templars caught wind of it. This has earned you the titles such as; 'cold-hearted', 'uncaring', 'unfeeling' and having a lack of interaction or connection with your comrades. Whilst they were out having a drink and a laugh together, you were back at the assassin's den, looking over the latest weapon plans and mission breakdowns. You spent a fair amount of time with your mentor Bellec, but even distance is forming between the two of you now that Arno is here. You and Bellec clicked and worked well as friends and comrades, both with similar, dry humour and a cold-shoulder to those around you for the sake of the brotherhood and compromise. You rarely show your friendship in public, keeping it to the confines of the den and only Arno and the council really knowing the extent of trust and, almost sibling-like, love for one another.
You and Arno had been working in each other's company for about four years now, meaning you'd found a lot of his secrets and heard a lot of his personal stories. You still keep a lot of things to yourself, but even you have to admit he knows a fair bit more about you than the average person. It was still a shock to him, and everyone else when you agreed to court him. You'd heard him and your fellow assassin's talk about it in their little groups or in the next room, Arno always commenting about how beautiful you are and that one day he'll gather the courage to actually ask you, unaware of the eye rolls you were giving him behind his back as you heard every word, the other assassin's telling him to give it up, as it was a wasted chase. Your favourite comment was: 'That creature is not made for any one man. A beauty such as her is made for a god at her side... or at least a king.'. It made you chuckle to yourself and glow with pride for a couple of hours. You'd noticed the smug look on Arno's face when you'd said yes to him, nodding toward the assassin's as the pair of you passed, their jaws basically hitting the floor and watching you leave.

"Ma chérie," Arno's voice suddenly interrupts your thoughts as you look at the cityscape of Paris from where you're perched on one of the taller buildings. "What are you doing up here all alone?" He hums softly, joining you at your side as you curl into yourself slightly.

"Thinking." You hum, resting your chin on your knee as your legs are pressed against your chest. The pair of you had been together for a couple of months now and he'd started to learn the unspoken boundaries with public affection and romance. He was a very romantic man, but he's been toning it down specifically for you. It'd probably be easier to find someone else to try and build a life with, but he's trying and adapting to fit with you. It's not that you don't have any love or romantic interests, it's just they're buried deep and you like to only save them for behind closed doors or 'special occasions'.
An ear piercing scream rips through the silence between the pair of you and your eyes are instantly drawn to the streets below, spying a man with a knife dangerously close to a woman's stomach as he holds out his other hand expectantly.

"(Y/N), hold on- Wait!" Arno calls, trying to catch your arm as you stand and jump down to the ground below. You know you'll get told off for this later, for not checking who might be watching and for exposing yourself too much to the public... 'We work in the dark to serve the light'. But this woman is either about to be mugged or stabbed and neither was ok in your books. You watch her shaky hand as your stalk forward, passing over her red satin purse, dropping the hefty coins into the man's hands, his form glowing red as you blink in and out of your eagle vision. He's about to take off, before you bring your hand forward, stabbing him in the back, palm flat against his coat, with your hidden blade, plucking the purse from his twitching fingers, before he drops to the floor and you detract your blade. The woman stares at you in horror as you pass her purse back, before she runs away, holding her skirts from the ground and disappearing around a corner.

"(Y/N)," Arno calls, grabbing your wrist and turning you to face him, "we've talked about this. You can't just go around killing every petty criminal you come cross." He adds, squeezing your wrist slightly to accentuate his point.

"Threatening and holding a woman at a knifes edge is unforgivable. He'll only go on to do it again or worse, best to dispose of him now." You reply, shaking out of his grip and walking back toward the assassin's hideout.

You walk out of the council room, the brotherhood calling you forward after your actions today, making it clear to you that if you continue with reckless acts of heroism, then you will be taken from the templar missions and onto guard duty at the front gates or guilds. Arno is waiting for you when you enter the cafe, looking to grab a coffee before taking off on your mission. You glance in his direction, before pulling your hood up and taking a gulp from your cup, before leaving, not even sparing him a second glance. This was the norm for the pair of you really, but normally he'd catch up with you, walking by your side as you both start your missions. However, today, he was meeting with Élise De La Serre at the cafe ahead of their meeting with the council to try and persuade them to let her aid them in their fight against the Templars. You understood their history together after his father's death, and that one of the Templar higher ups had turned against the woman, but when it comes down to it all, she is still a Templar and your enemy. You want nothing to do with her. But for Arno's sake, you will lend your help if necessary, they're childhood friends and you can't deny him the few feelings of happiness left in his life. The other half of you hoped the council still denies their request, not that that'll stop Arno from assisting the redhead. But, you definitely won't be helping without the pardon from the assassin's, You're in enough trouble as it is.

Paris is unusually quiet today as you run along the rooftops toward your target, noticing the lack of revolutionaries and soldiers marching along the cobbled streets.
Something doesn't feel right.

Your eagle vision picked them out a mile away. Arno and Élise, wandering around the estate of François Thomas-Germain, quite in view of the Templars positioning their rifles at them from the opposite balcony. You could just wait and allow them to kill Élise now to save Arno or you having to do it later, but the thought of Arno's loss and pain moves your hand and you jump into action when the first set of shots are fired. Jumping from the roof above them, you take out two of the opposition with an air assassination, your two hidden blades sinking into their flesh simultaneously. The others are quick to see your attack and turn to fight you, the muzzles of their guns aiming directly at you, but you make quick work of them too. Jumping over the balcony's gap, you slice one if their throats with your right hidden blade, before bringing your left one forward and driving it into the other's stomach. He drops to your feet, just in time for you to see Arno poke his head and pistol into the doorway, ready to fire before he spots you. Looking over at him, he smiles warmly and nods his thanks, before you drop to the street below, waiting for him at the entrance.

"Cela fait plaisir de te voir, (Y/N). (It's nice to see you)." He grins as he holsters his gun, walking out of the estate and following by your side as you walk down the street.

"In the time it's taken me to complete a mission, you've managed to piss off half of the order and all of the Assassin's, break into a wealthy estate and initiate a fight with a group of Templars... Care to tell me where Élise has scampered off to?" You hum, clasping your hands behind your back as you meet his eyes, his own searching the air for an answer.

"How bad?" He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I think Bellec is the most pissed off. He was already storming out of the hideout when I was arriving, cursing your name and the 'Templar scum'. You were asked to keep an eye on her and now I've been asked to babysit the both of you." You sigh, gritting your teeth slightly. You were hoping to avoid Élise as much as you can.

"I'm sorry, ma chérie." He coo's, eyes puppylike as he tries to win you over.

"Let's hope she hasn't done anything stupid." You mutter, completely ignoring his advances as you continue walking, pulling forward slightly before Arno jogs to catch up.

"Where are we headed?" You question, more interested in the reason, rather the destination.

"Mentor Mirabeau's estate. We uncovered some information that needs to come to his attention." He replies, making you silently nod, both taking off into a run.

You arrive at the Assassin mentor's estate, rather quickly, both noting how silent and almost eerie the atmosphere inside is. You quietly ascend the stairs, stepping with light feet in case of a creaking floorboard, before walking to an open bedroom door. You enter first, blade at the ready before you meet eyes with Élise, who's are frantic and wide, before looking down to see the dead body of Gabriel Mirabeau.

"I-I didn't, I swear-!" She stammers, noticing your gaze landing on the templar badge on his pillow.

"Of course not, even you're not that stupid to leave a calling card by the body." You mutter, bringing a cup of spilt wine to your nose and smelling the trace of poison. "Merde." You mutter, rubbing a hand over your face and pinching the bridge of your nose. "Now you're both really in trouble. Arno, I told you this was a stupid idea."

"I just found him like this, I don't know who-" she starts, looking to Arno for guidance.

"Of course, but we need to report this to the council-" He replies, making to leave.

"No!" You and Élise both exclaim, making him stop in his tracks and turn to eye you both.

"They don't trust me as it is." She continues making you nod.

"Everything that you're working for will fall apart in your hands. They'll think she did this. It's obvious someone is trying to set her up and you need to go and find out who." You sigh, ushering them both toward the door.

"What are you going to do?" Arno asks.

"Buy you time, idiot, and figure out exactly what happened here. You pair go and find out where this poison came from and who bought it." You instruct before pushing them out of the door.

You meet them both again later that night, trying to withhold the death of Mirabeau from the assassin's council until you'd found the killer.

"This is where the apothecary says he delivered the poison... I'm hoping I can pick up a trail and lead it back to the source." Arno explains as you drop down from a rooftop onto the sewed grass, gathering around a fountain with them.

"Pick up a trail? Are you a bloodhound now?" Élise jests, making you roll your eyes slightly as you cross your arms.

"Something like that," Arno smirks, turning in the spot and following the trail highlighted by your eagle vision. You and Élise follow, you keeping your distance from the pair in an attempt to avoid as much conversation as possible. However, it doesn't stop her.

"So why are you here, hm? Last I checked you didn't particularly like me, (Y/N)." She asks, cocking an eyebrow at you and you internally groan.

"Arno and the brotherhood, it's as simple as that. The Brotherhood wants the information to take down the Templars and you're Arno's oldest and closest friend. Even I cannot deny him happiness when it's what he deserves." You put simply, keeping your eyes forward and ignoring her gaze.

"That's probably the closest thing to emotions I've ever heard from you before. My, Arno really does have an effect." She gasps, feigning shock with a hand coming to press on her chest. "So how does your relationship actually work? Do you only show him emotion when you're alone?" She asks, genuinely interested.

"Élise, can you stop bothering her please?" Arno calls from in front, knowing how much she is probably irking you. Being this close to a Templar after being trained and brought up on all the bad they've brought to the world through power and control over the people, it's already stretching your patience.

"The trail ends here," Arno announces, stopping abruptly in front of Sainte-Chappelle.

"Are you sure?" Élise questions, glaring at the building in front of you, as Arno nods and confirms his conclusion. She begins to move forward, taking her pistol from its holster before Arno takes her arm.

"No. Wait here." He instructs, making you cock an eyebrow in confusion. Seeing him so serious all of a sudden is strange, especially toward Élise.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not letting you go in there alone." She argues, making you roll your eyes and sigh slightly.

"Élise, we have to do this ourselves. Please." Arno basically begs as you walk forward to join him at his side. There's a few moments silence between the pair before she sighs herself.

"I understand." The both of you begin to walk toward your target before she calls out again. "You'd better come back to me." Arno turns to smirk at her as you continue walking, "You too (Y/N)." She adds, making your steps falter before you continue with Arno. You both begin to climb, side by side, anticipating the oncoming fight.

"(Y/N), I feel like I should warn you." He calls over, a grunt to his words as he pulls himself up the next handhold, "The apothecary mentioned that the man that bought the poison; he wore a hood like ours. I think we've been betrayed from the inside... we might be killing one of our own tonight." He continues and you both pull yourselves over the railings, walking along the balcony.

"Anyone that betrays the brotherhood is not 'one of our own'." You snarl slightly, seeing the hooded figure ahead of you.

"Took you long enough, Pisspot." An all too familiar voice echoes around the space between you, an aged croak to his words.

"Bellec?" Arno questions, the pair of you in shock as your assassin mentor turns to face the two of you.

"Should have known it'd be you to find me." He sighs, the wind pulling at his cape slightly, only to move on to ruffle your and Arno's hoods. "I didn't expect you to be here though, (Y/N). Thought you'd have more sense than to follow along with a templar scheme, no matter how well hidden she's made it." He adds, making you frown slightly. "The only question is, what happens now."

"You poisoned Mirabeau." Arno reminds, as if the judgement is clear, your words faltering you as you stare down at your oldest friend.

"He poisoned us! Peace with the Templars is a fairytale!" Bellec snarls, a threatening bite to his words.

"And you're the only one who can save the brotherhood?!" The assassins by your side exclaims as you struggle to keep your emotions hidden, the shattering feeling of being betrayed by not only a fellow assassin but a close friend getting to you.

"Do you think this is the first time this has happened? The first time the assassins have bee forced to purge their leadership? The first time the Order has built itself back up from nothing to power? No, Masyaf, Monteriggioni, The American Colonies... it's all happened before, and we've risen anew, stronger than ever. But now... we've lost our purpose. We mired ourselves in politics and revolution. But we're not a nation. We're an army. And in an army, 'making peace with the enemy' is called 'treason'." He rants, making you clench your fists, unable to hold back any longer.

"And going against your brothers in arms is called treachery, disloyalty, mutiny... betrayal! I thought you were our friend Bellec! But if you're willing to frame those only trying to do right and go against your brothers, then you're not even a shadow of the man I thought you were!" You accuse, taking a step forward and squaring your shoulders.

"I trained you and made you the assassin that you are, (Y/N)! You joined the brotherhood with the sole purpose of destroying the order and making the world a better place. Yet you stand with the templar?! You lost your fire and your way." He growls, trying to make you back down, but you hold your ground.

"I stand with her because we're the only people who will stand with him!" You basically scream back, pointing at Arno as your limbs tremble. "He has lost everything and I'll be damned if he loses one of the last things from his childhood because of some deranged assassin with his own creed!" You feel Arno's hand lightly take your's, entwining your fingers and you hold tight.

"My Creed is still the same, it's the brotherhoods that's not. So no, I'm not the only one who can save the brotherhood. We can. Together." He offers a slight tone of hope to his words.

"Bellec... you know we can't do that." Arno denies, shaking his head once.

"That's a pity." Belle sighs, before diving at Arno, sword unsheathed and the metal lunging at him.

The fight lasted for about twenty minutes, the three of you rough and tumbling into various areas of Sainte-Chappelle, before crashing through a window and landing on the floor of the main hall. You and Arno had your fair share of bruises and cuts, but now Bellec is kneeling in front of the pair of you, energy spent and clothes bloodied.

"Do it." He breathes, looking up at the pair of you whilst holding the deep wound on his stomach. "If you've got an ounce of conviction and you are not just a love-addled milksop, you'll kill me now. Because I won't stop. I will kill her. To save the Brotherhood, I'd see Paris burn." He threatens.

"Then you are no brother of ours." You mutter, glaring down at the broken man.

"Finish it!" He exclaims before Arno brings his hidden blade forward and slits his throat.

"Reposer en paix. (Rest in Peace)."

"Salaud. (Bastard)." You mutter, before making your way to the entrance of Sainte-Chappelle, opening the gates and brushing past Élise, despite her and Arno calling out to you.
Rain splatters down on your robes and dampens your hood, the wet seeping through and soaking your hair as you run along the rooftops of Paris, burning off steam and convincing yourself that the tears running down your cheeks are just rain droplets. Pressure builds in your chest and your thighs begin to burn as you keep running, leaning and stumbling over gaps, before finally stopping, abruptly skidding to a halt before looking up at the sky, raindrops splattering on your face as you scream, releasing the pressure and collapsing to your knees. You fall forward, slamming your fists in the roof repeatedly, before resting your forehead on the ground and crying out again.
You're tired, mind and body, you're cold and broken. There's blood running and spreading through the puddles of water around you but you can't feel the pain from your wounds anymore, the cold temperature numbing your skin.
You hear his footsteps on the roof behind you before you see him, bringing yourself to sit up on your knees, before tilting your head just enough to see him and let him know you're listening, without showing your face.

"Ma chérie?" He calls softly, making your lip quiver, and a fresh set of tears spill over your bottom lids. "Are you Ok?"

There's a pause, where only the pattern of rain stops the silence from creeping up on you, before you turn fully to him, letting him see the tears and letting him in, his eyes widening slightly and he takes a tentative step toward you.

"No." You mutter, before breaking down again, the man rushing to your side, dropping to his knees to wrap you in an embrace, your hands fistic into his robes, pulling your bodies close and burying your face in his chest, crying and letting out your pent-up emotions.

"He betrayed us all, betrayed me! I thought he was my friend, he trained me and fought by my side..." You sob, the gentle circles being rubbed into your back calming you slightly, Arno's face nuzzled against your hood, tucking your head under his chin as he just listens.

"He was the closest thing I had to family... and now he's gone." You huff, pulling away slightly to wipe the tears away from your eyes.

"The Brotherhood is your family, you know? They joke and mess around, but they all like you (Y/N), they just know you like to keep your distance..." He offers, using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear from your cheek. "And you've got me too." He smiles, small but warm. "Thank you for what you said back there, by the way, about standing with me."
You return the smile.

"I always know I have you. I just don't like to show much of my emotions in case it's used against me and the brotherhood... I really do love you, you know?" You reply, a distant smile on your lips.

"I know, you know that I'll always love you too. I hope one day you'll feel comfortable to not have to hide it." He hums softly, cupping the back of your head and bringing your forward slightly to kiss your forehead. He helps you up, both of you getting ready to set off for the Assassin's, before you take his chin between your thumb and forefinger, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"One day." You nod, taking off, the other assassin follow close behind.

Chapter Text

You were sitting across the table from your boss, both glaring at each other with a glint in your eyes and a smirk on your lips, clutching a pint mug in your hands as your fellow Rooks cheer and shout around you.

3...” Someone starts, making your fingers tighten around the handle.

“You’re going down so hard, Frye.” You taunt, making him chuckle.


“You’ll be going down harder, (Y/L/N).” He shoots back.

1... DRINK!”

You both raise the mugs to your lips, chugging down the golden liquid, burning your throat as you swallow it down, both eyeing each other as you do so.

Evie and Jacob Frye have recently won over the last stronghold in London, reclaiming the streets from the Blighters, with the help of the Rooks, which you’d joined as soon as you’d heard of their cause. During that time, you’d worked your way through the ranks, per say, and actually managed to meet and get to know your bosses pretty well, having your fair share of opportunities to go into brawls and onto missions with them. Evie even invites you onto the train every so often for a chat and a catch-up, where you’d eventually bump into Jacob, making you blush with simple small talk and, what Evie described as; flirtatious comments.

Right now, you’re all in the local pub, celebrating your recent victory with music, dancing and beer. At some point, you’d gotten into a friendly drinking competition with a fellow Rook and, somehow, worked your way through the group, managing to grab the attention of the male assassin. You can see Evie watching the pair of you from the doorway where she’s leaning, talking with Henry Green and smirking.

She’s often commented about how you bring the best out of Jacob whenever you’re around, making everything a little easier for him to deal with. You’re not sure what to do with this information, but you appreciate it. You’d liked Jacob since you’d started with the Rooks, and you’re attraction only grew... but he’s your boss, you’re not exactly going to confess your feelings to him without concrete evidence that he feels the same way about you. The last thing you want to do is make things awkward with the friendship you’ve built with him.

You both slam your mugs down onto the table at an almost equal time, your judge claiming it too close to call.

“That sounds like a rematch might be required,” Jacob smirks, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“That it does, Sir.” You grin as he raises his hand, gesturing to the bartender for two more beers.

“Jacob,” Evie calls, approaching the pair of you, “I’m heading back to the train with Mr Green.” She informs, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not going to stay and cheer your brother on?” He pouts, making her scoff.

“I’m sure the Rooks will do that for me and they’ll let me know the outcome. Both of you have fun and don’t get too drunk.” She insists, pointing at you both, before heading back toward the door.

“Incredible.” Jacob scoffs.

“Well, you really wouldn’t want your sister to see you lose now, would you?” You grin, two pints of beer being placed down on the table in front of you.

“We’ll see about that.” He growls, already bringing the glass back up to his lips.

‘Don’t get too drunk’

Pretty simplistic instructions at the time and easy to follow... Evie’s gonna be so pissed with the both of you.

You normally don’t allow yourself to get drunk, but Jacob was just as stubborn as you and you both needed to win the drinking competition. Before you knew it, you couldn’t see straight, the room was spinning and you ended up in a secluded corner, music and noise from the Rooks filling your ears as you sit straddled on Jacob’s lap, his hands at the base of your back, holding you close.

You’ve nabbed his top hat too, wearing it with a slight tip back, smirking down at him as you sit up straight and proud.

“How do I look?” You sing, making him grin.


“I see why you like this thing... I can be posh and respective, or mysterious and... assassin.” You slur, trying to connect words as you tip it forward just enough to cover your eyes with the rim.

“You should wear it more often, (Y/N).” He purrs, making you shudder.

“It’s not ‘lady-like’.” You pout. “Not proper.”

“Neither is downing that much beer and brawling, but you still do it with extraordinary skill and excellent taste.” He grins making you laugh and hold out your hands in a presentation.

“I try.”

“You’ve still got some froth on your lip, love.” He grins, the smell of beer enticing, rather than overpowering and repulsive. You poke your tongue out and wipe away some of the froth on your top lip.

“Gone?” You hum, hands resting on his broad shoulders.

“No... here.” He smirks, hands cupping the side of your face and gently pulling you forward, close to him, until your lips touch, making your eyes go wide before you’re responding, leaning into him as his hands slide down your back and rest on your arse. You taste a new flood of beer, the yeast mixing with the bitterness already in your mouth.

“Smooth.” You hum with appreciation as you pull away.

“What can I say?” He grins, leaning in for another.

“(Y/N), tea.” Evie calls softly, the clanking of a China cup against its saucer and spoon accompanying her words.

“Mm, five more minutes.” You sigh, nuzzling into the warmth below you, the sheets pulled up to just below your shoulders. There’s a silence that follows, where you almost allow yourself to slip into sleep’s sweet embrace again before you start to realise something’s off. Under your head doesn’t feel like sheets or a pillow and it’s moving, only subtly but it’s definitely rising and falling, the echoing thump of a heartbeat playing into your ear, before a chuckle vibrates through.

“(Y/N), I think it’s time to get up, we might be in a spot of trouble with dear sister of mine.” Jacob’s voice wakes you, hands carding through your hair as you open your eyes. You sit bolt upright, making the assassin groan as you press on his stomach by accident, eyes scanning around the train, London’s scenery passing you by as it glides along the tracks. Then you notice exactly where you are.

Currently, you’re on the couch, with Jacob, who is topless and you’ve stripped down to your very minimum and basic wears, where you can only assume the pair of you decided to settle down for the night after a heated make out by the scratches on his torso and the hickeys littering your neck and collar bones.

“Oh god.” You groan, clutching your head as the hangover hits you.

“You think it’s bad now, Evie is only being nice until you’re properly awake... she probably has hell set up for us.” He chuckles, a sense of awkwardness taking over his tone.

“Ugh, you stink of a brewery.” You gag, pinching your nose and wafting a hand in front of your face.

“You don’t exactly smell like a garden of roses, love.” He frowns, catching your wrists. He gently brings your hands up to his lips where he presses soft kisses to your knuckles, making you smile with a blush.

“So,” Evie suddenly interrupts, making you both wince at her volume, sitting in the armchair opposite, “who won the drinking competition?”

“Um... I don’t-“ You stammer, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly, knowing that she knows you don’t remember.

“We lost track.” Jacob interrupts, smirking as you shoot him a pleading look, not wanting to anger Evie any further.

“I gave the pair of you one rule, don’t get too drunk. Did you even remember that there was a meeting today?” She basically growls, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

“Oh shit-“ You start, remembering your two bosses telling you about the said meeting last week, Evie mentioning how important it was for Rook moral and about the gang’s next steps.

“I’m sure you handled the situation wonderfully, sister dear.” Jacob cuts in, again, making Evie sigh through her nose.

“I had to try and explain everything to a rowdy group of hungover Rooks, who only felt like cracking jokes and theories on where the hell you pair got to last night!” She huffs.

“Well, let them theorise and spread rumours, as long as they know (Y/N) is mine, then that’s all that matters. I’ll just fill her in on the plans later, and deal with the hangover now.” He grins, pulling you to lie back down on him, sleep suddenly becoming a lot more tempting.

“Jacob, that’s not the point! Gang moral, keeping up appearances, a show of face… do these words mean nothing to you?! Anything could’ve happened whilst you were-“ She starts, before interrupting herself, throwing her hands up and letting them fall to her sides. “Forget it.” She sighs, walking off into a different carriage.

“Evie wait-“ You call out, sitting up and trying to go after her, but Jacob’s arm around your waist stops you.

“Leave her to it love. It’s easier to let her cool off before approaching her again.” He explains.

“What’s the next stop?” You sigh, running your fingers through your hair and looking out of the window. You pull yourself out of Jacob’s warm, inviting embrace and begin to dress with your clothes that are discarded on the floor.

“Whitechapel... you’re not getting off, are you? I have no assignments today, so I figured-“ he replies, eyes like a puppy’s and a pout pushing out his bottom lip slightly.

“Jacob... I shouldn’t distract you further. I have a hangover and I enjoyed last night, but you’re my boss. I shouldn’t keep you from your assassin duties. Starrick still controls London and until he’s dealt with, you will always have assignments.” You cut in, the train’s whistle signalling your approach to the station as you button up your green coat. However, Jacob’s hand takes yours, clasping it softly but with meaning.

“Stay.” He breathes, a hopeful, warm smile forming on his lips.

“That’s the problem,” You starts, watching the confusion work onto his face. “I want to."

You’re wandering the streets of London, following its twists and turns, winds and straights, through the shadows cast by its buildings and into the brightness of the sun, hands clasped behind your back as you kick your feet slightly. You love Jacob, have loved him for a while now, but he’s an assassin and you’re just one of his Rooks. His business is very important and is the only thing standing between Starrick controlling the whole of London... you’re just here to cause a little bit of trouble for a distraction. You can’t get in the way of his work and being in his life romantically is a distraction and liability.

You bring a hand up to gently massage your fingers into your temple, hangover still present and headache strong. Maybe walking around London’s busy, noisy, polluted streets wasn’t the best idea. Maybe you should just head home. It’s then that you’re suddenly pushed aside, an arm linking with yours as your body is forced closer to the walls of the buildings, awaiting an opening into an alleyway.

“What the hell?!-“ You exclaim, words quickly dying in your throat as you see the serious face of Evie Frye.

“You’re being followed.” She mutters, pushing you into an alley.

“By who?” You breathe, keeping your head facing forward so not to alert your assailant.

“Group of Blighters. They’ve been tailing you for two streets. I’ll sort it.” She promises, parting from you to clamber up the closest building, disappearing over the rooftop.

“C’mon lads,” you start, sighing as the large brutes turn the corner and trap you in the alley. “I’ve had a long night, I’m hungover and I’m sure whatever grudge you have against me can wait until my headache passes.” You groan.

“Oh, we’re sure you had a loooong night.” One smirks, elbowing his cohort in jest.

“We saw you leaving with Jacob Frye last night... I’m sure he kept you up till the crack of dawn.” Another chuckles, cracking his knuckles. “I’m sure we can keep you screamin’ a lot longer than he can.”

“Nothing personal lass, but his bitch of a sister is Miss Thorne’s property so we’re going for the next best thing.” The final Blighter sneers, shrugging his shoulder before lunging for you. He knocks you back, slamming you against the wall behind you, cracking your head against the brickwork, making you cry out.

There’s a flurry of movement in front of you and the obvious sounds of a fight, so you assume Evie has stepped in, but everything is spinning and blurred, your headache considerably worse, pounding even, and you stumble to the side. You bring a hand up to cradle your head, but feel a wetness on your fingertips.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) look at me.” Evie calls, fingers gripping your chin lightly to lift your head. You try to focus on her, but your eyelids droop and you can feel a sickness wash over you. She gently coaxes you back onto the street, calling a carriage, lucky to grab one with a fellow Rook at the reins, and usher you inside.

“Hey,” Evie starts, waving a hand in front of your face, your eyes lazily coming to meet hers. You can’t help but groan as you bring a hand up to your mouth, a strong wave of nausea coming over you. “Did you hit the back of your head?” You hear Evie ask, fingertips lightly touching the back of your head, touching the wound and making you wince. “Shit. (Y/N), I think you’ve got a concussion. We’re going back to the train and I’ll clean you up. Then you’re going to rest. Ok?” She asks, making you shake your head slowly.

“No... Jacob.” You slur, collapsing back onto the seat, Evie’s arms coming around your shoulders gently.

“What about him? Why did you leave this morning? You both looked happy together.” She asks, a small frown of confusion on her face.

“That’s the problem... too busy. You heard those Blighters. I’m just trouble.” You sigh, ears ringing and head throbbing and tears forming in your eyes.

“God, you’re both morons. He’s been so moody since you left.”

“What do you mean she’s in my bed?! Last I checked she didn’t want anything to do with me!” Jacobs' voice wakes you from where you’ve passed out in his sheets.

Evie had brought you back to the train and patched you up, settled you down in Jacob’s bed with a glass of water and promised to talk to her brother when he returned.

“Jacob, keep your voice down!” She growls from the other carriage.

“No, I’ve just returned from a difficult mission and was going to retire to my bed, only to find it’s occupied.” He argues, whining like a child as tears trickle down your cheeks, guilt overtaking you and the rise of his voice scaring you.

“You idiot, she was attacked.” Evie levels, shutting him up.

“What do you mean?! By who?!” He questions, tone immediately shifting into one of concern.

“Blighters. They followed her from the train and cornered her in an alley.” She explains, their voices growing closer as they enter the carriage you’re currently in, standing in the doorway, making you curl into the sheets a little more.

“If they did anything I swear-“ He growls, the feeling of his eyes on you obvious and powerful.

“Calm down, I sorted it. However, she’s got a concussion so she might be slightly disoriented and emotional. I’ve patched her up and given her some water, but she just needs some rest.” Evie interrupts, making you break. You can’t stop the sob leave your lips and you can hear Jacob’s hurried steps approach you. “I’ll leave you two alone.” Evie offers before shutting the door behind her.

“Hey, you’re OK.” Jacob soothes, appearing at your side, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently running fingers through your hair. 

“I’m sorry.” You cry, tears staining the pillow under your head.

“What for? It’s not your fault, none of this is.” He chuckles awkwardly, eyes soft and worried.

“You were shouting, I left and I didn’t mean too, it’s a mess and it’s because I left.” You stammer, stumbling over your words.

“I didn’t mean to shout love, I swear it. I’m not angry, I was just confused. But Evie explained it to me, I’m sorry for not understanding, none of this is your fault.” He soothes, trying to reassure your muddled mind. You groan as the throbbing comes back and you massage your temples again, the feeling of your skull being rattled from the impact of the brick wall coming back.

“C’mon, stop talking, you need to rest. Stop worrying and just sleep, yeah?” He urges, crawling onto the bed to lie next to you, softly rubbing your head, “I love you (Y/N), and no amount of Blighters or assassin duties can change that... remember that, ok?” 

Chapter Text

You’d been a member of the brotherhood of assassin’s for about eight years now, placed directly under Al Mualim’s guidance. You’d fit in with everyone fairly easily, training, laughing and living with your fellow brothers and sisters. Unbeknown to you, the other assassin that shared your mentor, that you only got the occasional glimpse at from the shadows, away from everyone else, had his eyes on you. Altaïr found you fascinating, captivating his attention and giving him to push he needed to actually speak to you. From that point, you’d grown rather close, much to your brother’s disapproval, and even managed to strike up some form of friendship. Altaïr only had the best things to say to you, noticing the little efforts your put into your work or appearance that day, making you glow for the remainder of it.

However, the pair of you contrasted greatly. You are quiet extraverted and sociable; always attending combat matches, horse races and climbing events, nearly always with a few friends at your sides. Not to mention, you are careful too. You take the term ‘assassin’ rather seriously and literally. You are always discreet with your work and only killed someone, other than your target, if it is absolutely necessary. Whereas, he is introverted and reckless, keeping himself distant from the other people in the brotherhood and only talking to those he absolutely had too. He doesn’t really seem to know the meaning of silence either, as he seems to think the blade at his side and on his wrist is enough to slay anything in his way, whether that be a target or a crowd of guards. But, you know, he’d protect and defend you to the ends of the Earth.

He’d told you that once. Your sure that, if your brother gave him chance, he’d say a lot more too.

“(Y/N), If you do not get down, I will throw you down,” Malik calls up to you, his eyes shadowed by the frown of his brow.

“Calm down brother, I don’t have a mission and nowhere to be. What is wrong with… ‘hanging around'?” You chuckle, gripping a roof edge and looking down at your twin brother.

“Stop being arrogant and drawing attention to yourself. I need you to run an errand.” He orders, making you groan and roll your eyes. 

“You used to know how to have fun when we were younger.” You mutter, dropping to the floor and walking over to the man.

“That was before we joined a war against the Templars; before I had a deadly blade strapped to my arm.” He reminds, walking with you around the courtyard of the bureau. “Take these documents to Al Mualim, from there I am sure he will give you a task of his own.” He instructs, handing you a sealed envelope.

“And you cannot do this yourself because…?” You hum, tucking them safely in your belt.

“I have a mission with Altaïr, god help me.” He explains, scoffing his words.

“Altaïr? I haven’t seen him for a while… how is he?” He asks, ears perking up at the man’s name.

“I’m sure he is as reckless and undeserving of his title as usual. Stay away from him (Y/N), he breathes nothing but trouble.” Malik orders, pointing a stern finger at you and stopping in his tracks.

“I am a higher rank than you, remember brother? I can take care of myself.” You huff, crossing your arms tightly across your chest.

“And I am older, sister. Al Mualim has me watch over both you and Altaïr because both of you put yourself in unnecessary trouble.” He reminds, making your eyes roll again.

“You’re only my elder by two minutes.” You murmur, the glare shot your way making you laugh as you climb the wall and disappear onto the rooftops.

“I hear that Altaïr is on another mission with that brother of yours… I’m sure they’re both enjoying each other’s company.” Rauf calls from where he’s leaning against the training ring wall.

“It keeps me free from him for a few hours.” You smirk, walking up the hill toward your mentor. Your arm is suddenly caught by another assassin as you walk past a small group. “Abra! You have returned!” You exclaim, pulling her in for a hug, “How went the mission?”

“Bloody, but complete.” She nods, smiling warmly at you.

“You will have to join me and Malik for dinner later.” You insist.

“Are you sure he will be OK with me showing up?” She chuckles, making you scoff, and wave your hand.

“It’s only Altaïr he loathes. Every assassin is welcome through our door, especially someone so close to the family.” You assure.

“Then I will take you up on your offer.”

“Hey, what is this; you are the main opponent in training today? Setting up another tournament, eh?” Another member of Abra’s group calls, patting your shoulder, chuckling.

“Where did you hear this Jarrah? I assure you I know nothing of this… I didn’t even think the training was on today. I heard it had been postponed.” You frown, pursing your lips slightly.

“It’s all the assassin’s have been talking about in the courtyard today,” Talitha replies from where she’s standing opposite. “Rauf even has the armoury set up and he’s cleared the training schedule so people can put their names forward.”

“I- I’ll join you later. I have to deliver documents to Al Mualim… I will ask if he knows anything about this and let you know what I uncover.”  You promise, briefly waving to the group as you make your way inside Masyaf castle. You pass Jabal as you walk up the stairs, head in a book, but sparing the time to say hello to you, before returning to his pages.

“Mentor.” You call, standing on the opposite side of Al Mualim's desk, bowing as he turns to face you.

“Ah, (Y/N), your brother told me to expect you. How goes your day?” He asks, walking slowly over to where you’re standing.

“Fine; undisrupted… thank you, mentor. Malik requested me to deliver these.” You reply, pulling the documents from the folds of your belt and handing them over.

“Thank you (Y/N). I was about to call for you in truth. I am sure by now you have heard of the training session in place for today?” He asks, making your nod.

“Yes, there is talk that I am to be the opponent. Is this true?” 

“It is. The assassins grow restless and a competition of sorts would do them good. You are a good fighter and Master Assassin… There is only one other that holds the same rank as you and it wouldn’t be my wisest decision to ask him to do this. Hence why he is on the mission with your brother.” He explains.

“This is the task my brother spoke of?” You ask, hoping that it was something a little more… important than this.

“It is.”

“I see. I will rally the assassins then.” You smile, holding back the sigh as you clasp your hands together, before descending the stairs again.

“Altaïr, I do not care if you are a higher rank then me, Al Mualim’s favourite or if it is ‘against the brotherhood’, if you do not shut up in a second I will ring your neck,” Malik growls, crouched with the other assassin as they watch their target.

“Maybe, if you answered my questions, I wouldn’t have to keep talking.” He mutters, making his partner groan.

“All of your questions are about my sister. Why not try speaking to her if you- Wait, that’s a terrible idea. Stay away from her.” Malik warns.

“Well, if you won’t tell me how she is, I’ll have to ask her myself… Besides, I would rather spend my time away from the crowds and eyes of our brothers, she is normally the one that comes and finds me.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, Altaïr, but (Y/N) is a very sociable, extroverted character, unlike you, so she speaks to a lot of the Brotherhood members. Don’t think you are special.” Malik sighs, his frown getting heavier as he tests the blade on his wrist.

“The more you speak and attempt to put me off her, the more attractive I find her.” Altaïr smirks.

“That is my sister you are running your mouth about!” Malik snarls, standing up to the man, words raised and glare deadly.

“Assassins!” Someone from the crowd below calls, warning the target, who beings to run from the courtyard.

“For the love of-!” Malik breathes, starting off into a run after the man.

You’d seen Altaïr and your brother return from their mission. Malik splattered with the targets blood on his robes and a sour expression, making your laugh, only being able to guess at what the other assassin had done to vex him this time. You’d tried to ignore the pair's presence as they made their way toward Al Mualim, keeping your focus on the fight. It wasn’t long afterwards that your brother returned, standing in the crowds and surveying your fights, watching over with a careful, stern eye, judging your moves. You’d spied Altaïr as well. After beating your sixth opponent of the day, you’d looked up to see him leaning over on the of the castles balconies, watching your fights. You’d supplied a wave, before delving into your next fight, him sparing a small smirk.

“(Y/N),” The voice of your mentor calls, interrupting your fight and making you and the several assassins’ around the ring look up to him as he moves out onto the balcony to stand next to Altaïr. “That is enough, you are needed for a mission with Altaïr.” He orders. You nod up at him, watching Altaïr move off the balcony and inside the castle, as you vault the walls of the ring and make your way through the crowd. However, as you walk past everyone and toward Masyaf castle, Malik grabs your arm and pulls you aside.

“I know- I know you cannot deny the mentor’s orders, but for the love of- be careful with Altaïr. I don’t want you getting hurt or worse because of his recklessness.” He warns, making you roll your eyes.

“Malik… master assassin, remember?” You grin, pulling away from him and holding your arms out in a presentation. “Besides, I and Altaïr get on well enough that I think he’ll have my back, rather than do as he pleases.” You add, causing your brother to scoff.

“Do as you please, but don’t say I did not warn you.” He mutters, walking away from you.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Altaïr suddenly calls from the entrance to the castle, you turning to look over to him as he beckons you over with a hand. “Come on.” He smirks, making you grin and rush over to meet him. “You did well fighting today.” He compliments once you’re by his side, the pair of you walking through the main entrance.

“Thank you, it wasn’t exactly the mission I was expecting, but it kept my overbearing brother away for a few minutes.” You huff as you head up the staircase.

“It is only because he cares for you, you know? Malik only wants what is best for you and to make sure you do not get hurt in the process. Master Assassin or not, it will not stop his worries.” Altaïr offers, you both stopping on the grand staircase to look at one another.

“It doesn’t mean he gets to dictate my life, Altaïr. He doesn’t get to choose where I go, what I do or who I spend my time with.” You argue, storming up the rest of the stairs in a huff to take your mission from Al Mualim.

“This is the part that I hate about going on missions with you Altaïr!” You shout, pushing past people as you run.

“You say that like this is a regular thing we do.” He replies, running just a step behind.

“It is! Ever heard of being silent, incognito, careful?! You know, the things We assassins are supposed to be?” You growl, feeling your chest begin to burn and thighs ache.

“We killed our target, no? My way was just quicker.” He points out making you groan as you keep running, choosing to focus on escaping the guards, rather than answering back. Suddenly, Altaïr catches up with you as you round a corner, grabbing your waist and hauling you into a haystack with him, falling onto his back with you on top. 

Both of you hold your breath as you hear the guards footsteps stop outside your hiding space.

“Where did they go?!”

“Spread out and look!”

Altaïr’s hands grip your waist a little tighter as you hear them move about the street, so close to you. One wrong move or the slightest sound could alert them where you were, and you’d rather avoid spilling innocent, unnecessary blood. However, your mind begins to wonder, mainly to how close yours and Altaïr‘s bodies are right now. You’re basically lying on top of him, the only distance really is between your faces, both of you watching the hay around yourselves in case the guards come poking around. You gratefully release the breath you’re holding in as you hear them move on, shouting about how the pair of you probably slipped down an alleyway.

“There, wasn’t too bad.” He smirks, looking directly into your eyes as you turn your head to face him, bumping noses.

“The whole point was to be discreet-!” You growl, growing tired of his smugness. You can see why he irritates Malik so much now.

“We got away, didn’t we? Nobody knows it was us, no innocent blood was spilt and nobody knows where the assassins-“ He argues, making you groan.

“Shut up.” You sigh, closing the, barely there, distance between the pair of you and pressing covering his lips with your own. It’s almost like he expected it, quickly falling into step and working his lips with yours,  a hand trailing up your side and tugging your hood down to tangle his fingers in your hair. 

“Ever since,” He starts, pulling a hair widths apart from you, both looking at each other with hooded eyes, “I first saw you in the castle, I fell in love. Do you know how difficult it has been to stay my distance and keep our relationship as just friends for the sake of you, your brother and the brotherhood itself?” He huffs, making you smirk.

“Now you don’t have to.” You mutter, connecting your mouths into a sweet kiss again.

“Everyday, you became more fascinating and enticing. My curious mind could not stay away.” He murmurs into the small breaks between your kisses. “I love you.”

You suddenly stutter to a stop, making him falter, as you think over his words. He really did say it… right? It wasn’t a trick.

“I love you too.” You grin, letting out a small bubble of laughter, pure delight striking your core as he pulls you close again.

All that time all you can think about is how you’re kissing Altaïr in a haystack…

You’re finally kissing Altaïr.

Chapter Text

“Havana is on the horizon, Cap’n!” A crew member from the crow’s nest calls, making you nod up at him as your hands rest on the helm.

“Half sails, don’t wanna pull into the coast too hard.” You order, Anne Bonne, your quartermaster for this journey and close friend, repeats your orders to the crew.

“T’was a good sail, (Y/N). The crew seem happy enough. What will you do now?” Anne asks, standing next to you with her arms folded.

“I think a few days in Havana with some rum will keep my crew happy. After, I’m going to install some new equipment and then we’ll set sail again.” You nod, hearing some of the excited jeerings from your mention of a drink.

“I think you might have company on that drink, lass. Seems the Jackdaw is already docked.” She points out, directing your attention to where Kenway’s ship is sitting, bobbing slightly with the waves, sails folded.

“Jesus, he’s probably already pissed... ‘e’ll be judging every upgrade I make to my ship too.” You huff, preparing the ship to dock.

“He only jests, (Y/N).” She reminds, causing you to smirk slightly.

“Aye, but I don’t need him giving his crew, or mine, a reason to look down on me or question my leadership.” You point out, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

“You’re one of the strongest pirates this side of the Caribbean, both crews respect you highly. So, stop worrying so much and go an’ enjoy a drink with Edward. He likes to spend time with you.” She urges, making you grin a little, humming in response.

Edward is revelling in the fact that when he and his crew entered the tavern, most people up and left, knowing that it was about to get rather rowdy with the crew of the Jackdaw getting drunk.

The rum was going down well by the judge of things. He’d gone from talking to Adéwalé about the next plan of action, upgrades and any assassin’s missions he needed to handle, to having friendly drinking competitions with his crew members.

“Cap’n Kenway!” One of his crew suddenly interrupts, frantically appearing at his side, causing him to cock an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Aye, What is it, lad?” He asks, taking a swig from the tankard in his hand.

“It’s Captain (Y/L/N), she-“ He starts, instantly grabbing the man’s attention, before the doors to the tavern swing open and the (Y/H/C) haired captain herself is standing in the doorway, tails of her leather coat almost touching the floor, Anne Bonney at her side and crew behind. Silence falls on the room, everyone’s attention drawn to the deadly pirate, awaiting her move.

“A’right lads... How ‘bout a round on me?” She offers, earning a sudden cheer from Kenway’s crew, her own filing into the tavern and joining their fellow seamen.

You can feel Edwards eyes on you as you, and your quartermaster, travel to an empty table, tucked away in the corner, a candle resting on the wood to illuminate the area in a warm, flickering glow before he gestures to Adéwalé and they make to follow you. You lean back and kick your feet up on to the tabletop, crossing your ankles, as Anne sits beside you.

“He couldn’t resist long, could he?” She chuckles, making you smirk.

“So, what’ll it be lass? Are you gonna sail with me again and be my quartermaster for another cruise, or go on to the next adventure?” You hum, glancing one more time as Edward walks toward you, crowds easily parting for him, before turning back to the redhead at your side.

“Unless a job arises here, I’d like to join you again, (Y/N). If you allow it.” She smiles warmly.

“‘Course you’re allowed. You’re a free woman and  my best friend, making you free to enter and leave my crew whenever you wish!” You nod, pinching her lightly in the arm, before crossing your own.

“Don’t tell Mary that.” She jests, before Edward swings a chair around, straddling the seat and resting his arms on its back.

“Awfully nice thing you’re doing lass, buying my crew a drink.” He greets, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Hello to you too Kenway. It is an awfully nice thing though, huh? You’re welcome!” You tease, bringing a hand up to pinch your chin as you purse your lips, conscious on how Edward’s eyes glance down at them. “Adè, nice to see ya again! Take a seat, no need to stand by this ol’ Seahag like his bodyguard.” You offer, gesturing to the seat opposite. He nods in greeting at you, his face still gracing a stone, serious expression.

“O’ lord, cheer up lads.” You groan.

“You tried to kill me las’ time we met.” Edward puts simply, making Anne gasp slightly and look at you.

“You never tol’ me that!”

“It was an honest mistake!” You swiftly reply, holding up your hands in surrender and shrugging your shoulders. “It wasn’t an attempt on your life... I just simply tried to injure ya for making a mockery out of me at the las’ assassin meetin’!” You snarl.

“By tryin’ to run your sword through my chest?”

“In fairness, I was aiming for your shoulder.”

“An’ then the stomach?”

Thigh... if you didn’t move then I could’ve jus’ hit ya and been done with it. Besides, you got me in the arm!”

“Only ‘cause you did, lass.”

“Oi!” Anne interrupts, holding her hands out, tired of the bickering, “Every time you meet you end up arguing like children and me and Adéwalé are tired of it!” She explains, prompting both you and Edward to look over at the burly man who simply nods his head.



You both groan out in unison, appalled at the man taking any side but your own.

“So both of you, stop fighting and have a drink. Ye both got even with each other and ye both like rum.” She instructs.

One drink turned into two and then at some point your and Kenway’s crew started to do rounds and then it turned into so many drinks you’d lost count. Eventually, much to everyone’s disappointment, the tavern ran out of rum and had to close for a restock. So, you’d all stumbled out of the place, meandering through Havana and deciding to take up hotels or your respective ships to sleep for the night.

Adéwalé and Anne had split from you and Edward, returning to look after your ships and saying they’ll see you in the morning. After deciding there wasn’t a lot to do around Havana at this time in the morning, you’d opted for the beach, which you are now stumbling around on, arms over each other’s shoulders and using each other for support.


“I though’ I heard the first mate say,

I treats me crew in a decent way

A glass of whiskey all around,

And a bottle full for the shantyman!”


You and Edward sing the shanty together in a rather untrained tune, probably butchering the song in your drunken state, and falling down onto the sand at the final word, one of you having lost your footing and dragging the other down with them.

“Ah, tonight was good!” Edward sighs, resting his back against yours as you lean against him, head rolling back onto each other’s shoulders.

“What bett’r way to cap off a good sail.” You cheer as Edward takes a swig from your last rum bottle, before handing it over to you. “And to think we were arguing before!” You chuckle, not even sure exactly what it was that the two of you were bickering about.

“Aye,” He snorts, making you laugh more at how his own chuckling jostles your body slightly, “It was great to catch up with you again too, old friend.”

“Who are you calling old?!” You protest. You and Edward had known each other since your childhood in Swansea, having travelled there with your parents, but lost contact when he joined the British Navy. After you’d lost your family to the redcoats, you’d turned to the more questionable, illegal life of piracy, believing that he was now one of your many enemies. You thought that still even when you joined the Brotherhood of Assassin’s until you saw him there one day. He was donning Duncan Walpole’s robes, which made you question his motives and which you’d learnt, from fellow assassin and close friend James Kidd, the events that had occurred since then. Since his introduction to the assassin’s, you’ve been bumping into each other none stop.

“Lass?” Edward calls, finally grabbing your attention.


“... Nothin’, forget it.” He sighs, “Jaysus, I’m fucked.” He groans, making to stand up. You’re caught off guard and aren’t able to catch yourself, so you fall back onto the sand, rum spilling onto the beach from the bottle as you pout over it, tipping it to your lips in case you managed to save some. Nope.

“That’s probably a good thing.” The man smirks, uneasily as he stumbles.

“It’s never a good thing.” You mutter quickly brought out of your self-pity when Edward falls back onto his arse and you can’t stop your laughter.

“Oi!” He scowls, only making you laugh further. “Don’t laugh at your elder's lass.” He warns, crawling over to you.

“Ha, you’re only older by a few months Kenway, so don’t go playin’ that card.” You remind, brushing some sand in his direction from where you’re lying. He comes to lie next to you, collapsing on his back and angling his head so you’re both looking at one another. “What?” You chuckle, noticing the warm expression on his face.

“You’ve grown up to be very beautiful, lass.” He hums, making you click your tongue and look up at the sky, connecting the stars with your eyes.

“Shut up Kenway, don’t start doin’ mushy shit. I know we’re both drunk but I’m aware enough to thro’ up at that.” You reply, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Ay,” He starts, propping himself up on to an elbow to look at you better, “I’m bein’ serious. When I saw you again at the Assassin’s hideout, I could barely take my eyes off ya. I liked you a long time before that, but seeing you again only cemented it.” He replies, honestly, making you glance at him.

“You’re always such a dick, Kenway. How am I s’posed to know that this isn’t just some elaborate joke?” You huff, casting your gaze to the stars again. You expected more words, or a laugh or a snarky remark, but what you receive is a firm kiss to the lips, Edward’s own covering yours and making you gasp out, eyes wide as you focus on his closed ones. You freeze, unsure of what to do and too stubborn to try anything else. However, your stubbornness is overcome by your desire and you kiss him back. A hand comes up to cup your cheek, another slipping under your head as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close and making his body cover yours, his legs straddling your hips as you deepen the kiss. All the pent up emotions for one another are quickly tumbling out after years of being locked away and it feels so good.

“Your ship or mine?” He husks into the shell of your ear.

“Whichever is closest, I don’t care!” You huff, letting him pull you up as you both clumsily make your way to the docks.

You wake the next day with various memories of last night but none of them fully complete. You can’t help but sigh as you snuggle closer into Edward’s side, but quickly hiss when you crack your eyes open and sunlight is beaming through a gap in the curtains, head pounding with a hangover.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one feelin’ rough.” He groans from above you, kneading the heel of his palm against the front of his forehead, his other hand squeezing your hip lightly. You don’t even know whose ship you’re on you’re so disorientated. After giving yourself a few more minutes to steady yourself and recuperate, you manage to identify you’re in Edward’s cabin, rather than your own.

“You couldn’t ‘ave closed the curtains properly?” You mutter, head resting on his chest and keeping your eyes closed.

“Sorry lass, but it wasn’t my top priority last night.” he huffs with a small chuckle. You moan slightly as he presses a kiss to your temple before you’re both rudely interrupted by someone’s fist pounding on the captain’s quarter door, both making you wince and groan.

“Kenway, get up!” Thatch’s voice booms, making it feel like you’re head is splitting open.

“What the hell is he doin’ here?” Edward mutters, untangling himself from you, despite your whine, and stumbling to the door in an attempt to quiet everything down.

“We know you’re in there Edward. Get up, (Y/N)’s gone missin’.” Kidd’s voice joins, making you open your eyes to look over at the blonde captain, who is struggling to contain his laughter.

“‘Parently you’re missin’ lass.” He smirks, opening the door and you pull the sheets up to cover most of your form.

“Wha’s this then, pirates convention? And what about (Y/N) missin’?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest and trousers hanging from his hips.

“Thought that’d get you up.” James hums.

“She didn’t return to her ship last night. Anne was lookin’ for her when we docked.” Thatch explains.

“Calm down, she’s fine, she’s with me.” Edward replies, waving it off, “Tell Anne she’s ok and will be returned to her ship later on without a scratch.” 

“That’s a lie.” You mutter, already knowing there are hickeys on your neck and scratch marks on your back. You hear James enter the room and Edward and Thatch linger back, conversing and Edward probably getting either a scolding or congratulation.

“What happened to wanting to kill him?” The younger captain smirks, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Things change, Mary.” You hum, cracking open an eye and raising a brow as you look up at her.

“Aye, but your affection for him hasn’t. Are you sure you’re on mutual terms about this? If Kenway breaks your heart, I’ll be sure to break his neck.” She replies, making you chuckle.

“I’m sure. We discussed it. And if, for god knows what reason, he does break my heart, you and Anne will be the first I inform.” You smirk, making her nod.

“Next time just tell her where you’re going, she’s worried sick about you. Try and contain this too. The less people that know about you and Kenway, the less you are a liability to one another.” She reminds.

“I’ll apologise to her later.” You nod, feeling slightly guilty, “As for containing it, news about me seems to spread that I haven’t told anyone before so people are bound to find out. We’ll just have to be extra cautious.” You shrug, knowing that if you start to get cocky about it, it’ll come back and bite you in the arse.

“As long as you’re careful.” She nods, easily shifting from being Mary Reed, into her James Kidd persona easily, as he stands and leaves the room. “Be nice with her Kenway, treat her well.” He instructs, before leaving the ship.

“We’ll leave you to your hangovers then. I’ll make sure to inform Miss Bonney of Captain (Y/L/N)’s whereabouts.” Thatch says, bidding his farewell before Edward shuts the door and joins you back in bed.

“Well, that’s one way to let everyone know that you’re mine.” Edward chuckles, making you smirk as you tuck yourself back into his side, head resting on his chest as arms circle your body.

“More like; you’re mine.” You smirk, earning a light pinch to your shoulder.

“How about you come sailing with the Jackdaw for a few days, give your crew a break?” He offers, making you mutter lazily.

“I’d love to Kenway, but I have a mission to carry out with the assassin’s and, unlike you, I take the brotherhood seriously.” You remind, making him groan slightly. “Besides, you have a job of your own to carry out. Complete it and I’ll meet you at Nassau in three weeks.” You promise.

“You drive a hard bargain, Captain (Y/L/N).” He chuckles.

“We’ll see each other again soon Edward, but for now, just go back to sleep.” You urge, desperate to get rid of this hangover before you set off to sail again.

Chapter Text

Still... you need to be absolutely still.

You’re cold, wet and in the dark, the only light source being the moonlight cascading down from above you, a lot of it being caught up in the trees. You’re lucky that you’ve had to stop in a shaded area, but even that won’t save you. You’re already injured after getting swarmed by the redcoats, and wolves can smell blood.

If it was just the one, you could handle it, even with the bullet wound in your right thigh and stab wound in your left shoulder. But a pack of six is pushing it to odds that even you aren’t willing to risk.

Where was Connor when you need him?!

You can hear the growl almost immediately behind you and you only have two arrows left, not that you can aim very well with a wounded shoulder. You have to do something, and soon, you can’t just remain here forever. Undoubtedly Connor is looking for you, but it’s whether he went back to the homestead and found you weren’t there, or just immediately went looking after you’d been split up back in Boston. Either way, the forest is large, so you can’t see help arriving too soon. Carefully testing out your shoulder, you decide that darting up the next tree is your best hope, but there’s no guarantee you can hold yourself and you might end up falling back to the forest floor and into the wolves jaws.

You ponder the idea for a while, before the telltale sign of a wolf getting ready to pounce enters your ears, kicking you into action. You swing around, embedding your tomahawk in one’s chest as it leaps for you, before quickly scampering to the closest tree, not even bothering to fight to get your weapon back. You almost reach the trunk’s base, but you’re suddenly knocked to the side, a wolf having flanked you and sinking its teeth into your already injured shoulder, making you cry out. The pack circles you then as you struggle with the one pinning you down with paws on your chest, another latching onto your leg. You manage to connect a punch with the one sinking into your shoulder, but it only angers it further, choosing, instead, to bite down on your forearm, shaking it violently and glaring you in the eyes.

Suddenly, there’s a noise, almost like a whistle, before an arrow embeds its head into the wolf’s skull, making it go limp and collapse to your side. There’s a thump of feet approaching you and the wolves turn to the figure, attacking him, before deciding it's not worth the fight after another two of their pack fall to his blade.

You groan as Connor’s face comes into your vision, concern written all over as he gently touches your wounds. Everything’s becoming hazy and you can’t decide whether you’re about to pass out from blood loss or the pain.

“(Y/N), you need to hold on ok? I’ll get you back to Achilles.” He calls softly, gently pulling you into his arms and setting off into a run as you pass out, head resting on his shoulder.

You slowly start to come to at the sound of people bustling about around you, a plush pillow under your head and sheets pulled up to your waist.

“She’ll wake up soon, Connor… She will be ok.” You hear Achilles promise, before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. You can hear Connor in the chair at your side, cracking your eyes open slightly, you watch as his head hangs, hood pulled down and hands clasped together as his elbows rest on his thighs.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time, (Y/N).” He mutters, not even raising his head as he wallows in self-pity. You hate seeing him like this.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton,” You call softly, making his head instantly snap up and eyes settle into yours. “This isn’t your fault.”

“If I’d just stuck with you,” He starts, carefully reaching for your hand and grasping it gently in his, “If I made sure you were OK, I could’ve prevented this.” He states, mainly speaking to himself as he runs a thumb softly over your knuckles.

“Hey.” You call, your voice soft, but tone holding some form of dominance, grabbing his attention. “Stop blaming yourself. You saved me, that’s what matters.” You urge gently, smiling warmly at him and making his features soften.

“I shall leave you to rest. It’s good to see you’re awake again, (Y/N).” He nods, moving from the chair he’s sitting at to the door, making sure to give you a small smile before leaving you tucked into the bed sheets, shutting the door behind him.

During your recovery time, you’d heard and seen Connor leave for multiple missions, as well as a lot of the assassin recruits stopping by to visit you, sitting by your side for a while and discussing the world outside your bedroom, keeping you up to date with the movements of the Templars. Deborah Carter, Clipper Wilkinson and Stephane Chapheau were your main visitors, you being present for their recruitments, joining all six recruits for their inductions, and spending a lot of time with them to keep up your training. Clipper is even teaching you to hone your sniping skills; him being one of the best you’ve ever met.

Currently, you're facing the six assassin’s, tapping the top of your boot onto the soil beneath your feet as you tighten your grip slightly on the tomahawk in your dominant hand. You’ve called them together to train, to make sure you’re at you best with your skills and strength, build them both up if necessary, now that your wounds have healed, before joining Connor on his next mission.

“We’ll make sure to go easy on you, (Y/N).” Jamie teases, making you smirk.

“Very funny, but this is as much of a test of your skills as it is of mine.” You warm, surging forward and swiping at him with your weapon.

The rules are simple, get struck by the opponents weapon three times, leave the training area and patch up; none lethal attacks. Just enough to nick the skin and draw a bit of blood, without taking the opposer out of action. 

“Whoever loses has to clean the stables this week!”  Jacob challenges as he dodges an attack from Duncan.

"You can’t make up rules after we’ve started!” Deborah scoffs, throwing her own attack at Stephane, 

“Don’t look now, but Connor and the old man are watching us.” Clipper warns as you stoop down just in time to dodge his blade, swinging your tomahawk forward to nick the top of his calf, slitting the fabric of his trousers and drawing some blood, making him hiss and wince as he steps back from you.

“Don’t focus on them, focus on your opponents.” You remind, trying not to get cocky, but unable to stop the smirk coming to your lips.

“You’re one to talk.” Jacob chuckles, coming up from behind. You turn just in time to see him swinging his sword out toward you, but you manage to duck under his arm, bringing out your hidden blade and catching his side, running out and away from the pair, before Jamie manages to nick your shoulder with a hunting knife, making you cry out slightly and swerve away. Swiping your fingers over your new wound, you rub at the blood there with your thumb, before running at the assassin in front of you with their back to you.  You catch his forearm, turning around him to see it’s Jacob before Deborah manages to get an attack of her own in.

“That’s three.” You remind, watching him groan and mope as he leaves toward the house.

“Don’t forget to clean the stables,” Deborah calls after him, making you both chuckle as he flips you off.

“Coming up from your right.” She mutters, making you smirk.

“Oh yeah, your left.” You nod, gripping your tomahawk.

“Way ahead.” She hums, before the both of you dodge out of the way of Stephane and Clipper’s attacks. You manage to avoid another attack from Duncan, catching him in the leg as you move, making him leave the training field and join Jacob in patching up. However, you hear a curse from Deborah, before seeing her walk from the field herself, shrugging as she looks over at you with an irritated frown. Jamie suddenly comes in close, his blade snagging on your left arm, but you manage to slice the top of his hand as he pulls back, forcing him to drop his weapon.

“Two each, nice fighting.” He complements, shorting you a smirk as he covers his hand.

“I rather like them odds!” Clipper exclaims as he leaps forward, bringing the butt of his gun down in an attempt to disorientate you, but you manage to avoid it, striking out at him, but missing. However, Stephane manages to land an attack of his own, making the other man curse and pull away, trying to cover the fresh wound.

“You lot,” your training game is suddenly interrupted by the voice of Achilles as he approaches the group, Connor at his side. “Go and get yourselves cleaned up, an important mission has arisen and your assistance is needed.” He instructs, the sound of the four of your heavy breathes being the only sound for a second, before you begin to disperse, going to join the other assassin’s in the manor.

“(Y/N),” Connor calls, joining you at your side as you trail behind the others, “you did very well in training today. It’s nice to see you getting back on your feet.” He offers, sharing a small, but warm, smile. 

“Thank you, Connor.” You grin back at him.

“Come, I’ll help you patch up your wounds.”

You would’ve said that it was alright, that you could do them yourself, but you also know that this is Connor’s way of asking to show you affection. Ever since the incident, he’s felt guilty and only ever treated you with the utmost care and delicacy... that’s near enough what your relationship was, to begin with, but now it was becoming a little too much; as if you were a china doll that would break under too much pressure from his fingertips.

He leads you into the main room of the homestead, sitting you down on one of the wooden chairs and gathering some gauzing as you removing any clothing necessary to get to your wounds. The pair of you sit in silence as he begins to clean and dress them, making you wince occasionally from any sharp pains. However, the silence begins to bother you; you know he’s thinking back to the wolves.

“Connor…” You call softly, pulling his gaze from your injured shoulder to meet your eyes. It’s seeing the love and guilt in his eyes that makes you at a loss for words. He probably still won’t listen if you tell him that it’s not his fault again and the last thing he needs is repeated words or pity. But you also wanted to say something a little more meaningful; something that might make it a little easier for him to believe you when you say that it’s alright. “Konoronhkwa.” You whisper, making his hands freeze on your skin, eyes unblinking as he stares at you, lips parting slightly as you look at you with shock. It quickly changes to adoration, a warm smile spreading across his lips. You didn’t have to learn his native tongue, he’d never asked you to, but you hope this shows how deeply you hold him in your heart.

“I love you too, (Y/N)"

Chapter Text

“This seems like an awful idea.” You sigh, arms crossed as you watch the two assassin’s line up on the rooftop of the Thieves Guild.

“How so?” La Volpe asks, joining you, looking up at Ezio and one of his finest students as they prepare to start their race, assassins, thieves and courtesans cheering them on already. 

There’d recently been a breakthrough with the fight against the Borgia’s so everyone is having a night of celebration and, being a courtesan and one of Ezio’s closest friends/allies, you’d been invited as well. However, you weren’t shy about killing if necessary and have your own arsenal of weapons, it just seems you’re the only one that has been sensible with your drink tonight.

“Because they’re both very drunk and I can see this ending rather badly.” You reply, watching the pair start running, leaping clumsily over the first gap and travelling the small circuit around two of the surrounding streets, over the river, through another four blocks and back.

“They’re both very skilled Assassin’s (Y/N), I’m sure they’ll be fine.” He reminds, making you roll your eyes slightly.

“I’m sure they could both be the best Assassin’s to have walked the earth, but alcohol can change all of that.” You point out.

It’s almost immediate. The distant shouting and swearing, alongside a gunshot and the clinking of swords, before there are two splashes in close timing.

“That better be the guards going into the canal.” You mutter, running alongside La Volpe, using the basic climbing skills you’d learnt from Ezio to pull yourself up into the roof just in time to see the thief killing a Borgia Guard.

“Merda.” You breathe, looking down to see the still rippling water of the canal and two disorientated assassin’s below. “Volpe!” You call, directing his attention before diving into the water. The murky liquid grabs at the lush, expensive silks of your dress, making you fight harder against the water as you attempt to reach the two panicked assassins. You hear another splash behind you, making you glance behind as you see Volpe grab the student and pull him up toward the surface. You place your own hands on Ezio’s arms, getting his attention and calming his muddled mind, before aiding his swim up to the surface. 

You break the water, both gasping for air, and swim to the edge, thieves and fellow courtesans reaching for the pair of you and helping you up. The girls fawn over you, making comments about how your luscious silks are ruined and how brave it was for you to go in after them, whilst the thieves and assassins work together to drag Ezio into the guild, deciding that the drink should probably be shelved, for now, making it the most sensible decision anyone has made all night.

Ezio had passed out not long after the group had helped/dragged the two assassin’s home, everyone struggling to stay up themselves, your watchful eyes keeping a look out for any guards and Templars. Once getting to the guild, you’d stripped yourself of your wet garments, borrowing a shirt and trousers from the thieves, the top rather baggy and flowy, hanging from your frame and contrasting with the slightly tighter trousers, those slightly loose too, being held up on your hips by a teal dyed sash. You’d then worked on undressing Ezio, taking off his assassin’s robes, along with his trousers and boots, trying your best to dry his hair whilst setting his clothes out in front of the room’s fire.

“Mio Dio Ezio… You could’ve hurt yourself or worse.” You sigh, gently rubbing the ends of his hair, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Mm, you could continue stroking my hair, bella. My head is killing me and I could use the sympathies.” He hums, shifting his head slightly to press into your touch, eyes remaining closed as a small smile spreads across his lips.

“Bastardo, you do not deserve the careful treatment.” You scoff, standing from where you’re sitting on the edge of his bed and heading over to the fire, trying to warm your chilling thighs.

“(Y/N), please, don’t treat me so coldly. I apologise for my words, I was only joking… and if I said anything-“ He pleads, making to move, but stops as you turn slightly to glare at him.

“You did not say anything, it is what you did that has irked me. You made me worry beyond my mind!” You growl, turning back to the fire and rubbing your hands together, trying to warm your skin. “I ruined my silks to save your sorry ass because you were too drunk to fight a guardia! You could’ve been killed, drowned-!” You continue, teeth chattering with a mix of frustration, sorrow and chill.

“You’re cold, bella.” He mutters, interrupting you with how close he suddenly is, arms wrapping around your body, covering you both with a thick blanket from the bed. Your body stills, becoming rigid with his body pressed so closely, his bare chest pressed against your back and arms wrapped around your stomach.

“E-Ezio-?” You stammer, unsure where to put your hands.

“I’ll buy you new clothes and I’ll do whatever it takes to apologise for my actions and to thank you for your aid in my rescue. Please stop worrying, tesoro mio (my treasure). I did not mean to make you fret over me… I don’t wish to be the reason for your sorrow.” He whispers, catching you by surprise, your words dying in your throat and breath stuttering.

Your hands come to rest on his arms that are crossed over your stomach.

“Ezio, I didn’t mean-“ You start, turning in his arms to look up at him.

“Please, just say you forgive me so I don’t have to feel guilty every time I look into those beautiful eyes.

“Of course I forgive you, idiota... I cannot stay mad at you, mio bell’uomo. (my handsome man)” You sigh, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, his eyes becoming hooded as he leans into your palm.

“Grazie (Y/N), non posso vivere senza di te... (I cannot live without you...)” He breathes, the words soft against your skin as your heart skips a beat.


“Ti penso sempre... tu sei il sole del mio giorno. Ti amo, (Y/N). (I always think about you... you are the sunshine of my day).” He continues, voice unwavering and eyes caught in a gentle trance whilst looking into yours.

“Ezio.” You start, voice cracking slightly as tears well in your eyes, the intimate feeling of adoration and raw romance swelling inside of your chest, completely filling the room and to be directed solely on you, by your best friend, your partner and hero... the person you’d adored for so long... “I love you too.” You basically whisper words barely audible as tears spill onto your cheeks as he brings you close. Your lips press together in a delicate, tender kiss, testing each other, as your noses bump together slightly and your hands find purchase on his shoulders. He’s stooping down slightly, making sure that you only have to stretch your back slightly, meaning you don’t have to stand on your tiptoes, the blanket still wrapped around your forms and the crackle of the fire being the only sound in the room, both of you breathing calmly into the kiss and feeling each breath the other takes.

“Why are you crying, amore mio?” He hums softly, calloused thumbs coming up to wipe the tears rolling down your rosy blushed cheeks.

“I-I don’t know... it just felt- your confession was so beautiful.” You admit, stumbling over your words. “Silly, no?” You chuckle lightly.

“Not at all. Come, we both need to rest.” He urges, walking with you tucked into his side toward the bed.

You woke before Ezio the next morning, as you expected. It’ll be interesting to see how he deals with the hangover today, which is bound to hit him full force compared to last night.

Your head is resting on his bare chest, one of his arms resting on his stomach whilst the other is curled around your hip. Your body shifts slightly with the rise and fall of his chest, listening to his heartbeat thrum evenly in his chest. You’re not sure of the time, but by the noise coming from the floors below, you’re guessing it’s just coming into the afternoon.

“Time to wake up, Ezio.” You call softly, bringing a hand up to brush strands of hair from his forehead away with your fingertips.

“Just a little longer.” He mumbles, curling into his side slightly, pressing his lips into your hair, kissing your head, making you giggle.

“Sorry, assassino, but you are needed by the masses downstairs. You do not want them thinking that you died during the night.” You tease, making him groan.

“But my head... I cannot deal with such noise. Besides, La Volpe probably has a lecture to give to me.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Which you deserve.” You smirk, fighting the urge to remain in his warm embrace, wrapped in the sheets, on a comfortable mattress- you kick the covers off, standing and moving over to the fireplace, the once crackling fire now a dull mix of grey ashes and broken wood.

“That is hardly fair.” He calls, cracking his eyes open to follow you with his gaze as you stoop down to check the state of both of your clothes. 

“Everything has dried at least.” You hum, standing up straight and putting your hands on your hips, ignoring his statement.

“Remain in what the thieves provided you... sei cosi seducente. (You are very seductive).” He purrs, a wry smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“That is the point of my actual attire, idiota.” You huff, glancing at the limp, stained and straggled silks. “Besides, I have slept in these, I can’t wear them today as well.”

“It is better than wearing something that smells of the canals, no?” He counters, making your lips purse in thought.

“I suppose.” You sigh, grabbing the assassin’s robes and handing them over to him. “I’ll wait for you downstairs and try to calm Volpe... if he is not suffering from a hangover himself.” You offer, watching him pout as you leave the room.

The noise of the thieves guild is quieter today, everyone nursing their own headaches, most having not have vacated their rooms yet either. You see that most have formed into their own clicks, the assassin’s at tables, most taking the piss out of the assassin that was racing Ezio last night. The thieves are huddled at the bar, some already gambling and others sipping at cups of water... only a few risking more alcohol. As you descend the stairs, a group of courtesans come to meet you, circling around you and squealing about several things at once.

“Girls, please, I am used to your babbling but I can't understand you all at once.” You tease, the excited looks of your friends not diminishing.

“You were so brave yesterday, (Y/N)!” One of them swoons, several of the other girls nodding with her.

“No wonder Ezio took you back to fottere.” Another adds, waggling her eyebrows at you whilst nudging another girl with her elbow.


“It’s all the thieves and assassin’s are talking about! How Ezio managed to seduce you and drag you into his room to make love!” A third Courtesan explains.

“And they think we are volgare!”

“Firstly, I am the one that had to drag him to bed as he was so drunk he could barely walk! Secondly, me and Ezio are close friends, therefore him seducing me is-“

“(Y/N).” La Volpe suddenly calls, grabbing the groups attention and gesturing with his hand for you to go and meet him.

“Mi scusi raggazze. (Excuse me, girls).” You smile, nodding your head to your friends as you walk the length of the room to meet Volpe in his office area.

“Buon giorno, Volpe.” You greet, a small, warm smile gracing your lips.

“Please tell me that idiot assassin is awake.” He sighs, causing you to frown slightly.

“He is and he is fine... you cannot really say anything too bad about Ezio though, Signore, You were almost as drunk as he was and didn’t object to the idea.” You remind, causing him to rub his temple.

“I know, I remember.” He mutters, “it’s just- word has come from the guild in the heart of the city. The Borgia's are making a move and Ezio is needed to guide his assassin’s to the fight.” He explains, making your heart sink slightly. 

You’d just admitted your feelings to one another and now he has to leave you again, heading into god knows what dangers.

“Ok,” you nod, trying to retain your sorrow, “He should be down shortly.” You add, leaving the area and making your way outside to breath in the fresh air and clear your head.

The assassins are leaving.

You watch them file out of the thieves guild and split off from being in a huddled group, some taking to horseback whilst others disappear over rooftops. You can only assume that Ezio has spread the word and will be joining them shortly.

You’re sitting on a stone wall, admiring the flowers at your sides, brightly coloured petals on their stems that are bending out from the beds almost as if to greet you.

“They’re a beautiful backdrop.” Ezio’s voice suddenly comments, making you look up as he approaches, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he stoops down to press a kiss to your lips, “but not as beautiful as you, bella. Nothing can match your beauty.” He smiles warmly. You try to match his smile and happiness, but the sorrow of him leaving you is too great and overwhelms you, making your smile look sad and half attempted.

He sighs. “Please, don’t be so sad (Y/N)... I do not want to leave you either, but it won’t be for long.”

You stand and look into his eyes, hands coming up to press against his cheeks and fingers dipping under his hood to play with the loose strands of hair that have broken free from where he’s tied it back.

“How can I be certain you’ll return to me.” You mutter, mostly to yourself as you mesmerise the details on his face.

“I will always return to you, mio amore. Besides, I’m not leaving Roma, so I’ll come and visit within the week. If, for whatever reason, I am unable, I’ll send word, either by messenger pigeon or assassin.” He promises, resting hands on your hips and pulling you close.

“Ok. Maybe return without a headache this time?” You giggle, lightening the mood somewhat.

“That is not funny, I’m having to work with what feels like a knife in my head.” He chuckles, closing his eyes and he leans down slightly to press his forehead against yours. You shift slightly to press a kiss to his lips, allowing him to deepen it, your back arching slightly as he pushes against you, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Ciao amore mio, a presto. (Goodbye my love, see you soon).” He whispers, kissing you softly again before parting and heading off out of sight.

“Alla prossima, Ezio. (To the next time we meet, Ezio).”

Chapter Text

You’re sitting on the starboard beam, leaning against the ratlines in case you needed something to hang onto through rough waves. You watch the ever-changing horizon, waiting for the day when it won’t be just the colours changing and you might actually see Havana again. It’d been so long since you’d returned home and seen Thatch and Anne… and Edward.

“(Y/L/N)” Your captain suddenly calls, interrupting your thoughts and directing your eyes to where he’s standing in the doorway of his quarters, beckoning you over.

“Yes, cap’n?” You reply, hopping down from your perch and making your way over to him.

“I’ve told you before when we’re in private you can call me by my name.” He chuckles, eyes friendly and full of life.

“Sorry, Mary, I forget being on the ship an all… you never know when you’re truly alone.” You reply, smiling warmly back at her

You’d be working under Captain James Kidd for just over five years now, sailing to places you’d never even dreamed of seeing. However, you knew your captain under a different name; Mary Read, posing as a man so to keep her position as Captain, along with her authority and reputation. You’d met her back in Havana whilst she was on an Assassin’s mission. She’d completed her job, but getting away wasn’t as simple it seems and you ended up taking her in to patch her up. That’s how you knew about her disguise. From there your friendship grew and she’d asked you to join her crew. You’d been unhappy at home with your family trying to pass you off to some wealthy man to marry, against your will.

“How are you getting on? This sail hasn’t been the easiest.” She asks, casting your mind back to the recent naval battle with a few of the navy’s ships.

“We didn’t lose anyone, so I think it could’ve gone a lot worse.” You shrug, watch the crew on deck idly chat amongst themselves and relax for the first time in almost six weeks. Mary simply nods.

“We’re dropping anchor soon. I think it’s time for a well-deserved break, eh?” She grins, making you nod almost immediately. “Besides, isn’t it a special day for you?” 

“Oh no, please, not you too. The crew are already muttering amongst themselves ‘bout what evil shit they’re gonna do to celebrate. The latest one is making me drink twice my weight in Rum, or pushing each other into the ocean. Obviously, they forget how cold it can be.” You groan, making her laugh.

“Well we’ve set up something a little nicer back on land,” Mary replies, making you falter slightly.

“Wait, you’ve planned this?” You question, slightly in disbelief, making her nod.

“Anne and I managed to get somethings ready.” She explains, the smile on her lips a little more mischievous than you’d like.

“What have you-“

“Land, ho cap’n!” One of the crew members in the crow’s nest interrupts.

“Well, go have a look then.” Mary urges, nodding toward the forecastle desk, before you take off into a run, almost tripping up the stairs, before gripping the beam of the ship and looking at Havana coming up on the horizon.

However, it’s not until a few more minutes of sailing, the ship bobbing with the gentle lapping of the waves, that excitement bubbles in your chest and anticipation coils in your stomach. Docked at Havana’s port is, not only ‘The Queen Anne’s Revenge’, but ‘The Jackdaw’ as well. You grip the beam, leaning over as far as you can, in case your eyes are deciding you, begging the ship to sail faster.

“Happy Birthday (Y/N).” Kidd calls, making you glance over your shoulder, grinning over to your Captain, who has easily shifted into her male persona.

You couldn’t stop your pacing as you grow closer to the port, your basic duties of pulling and tying in the sails and getting the ship prepared for docking not even stopping the tapping of your fingernails and feet on the ships wood.

“Drinks at our usual tavern lads, Kenway and Thatch’s crew will be there. If they’ve got any common decency, they would’ve bought us a round already.” James announces as the ship’s anchor is dropped into the water, the ship pulling on the docks, his comment making the crew cackle.

“Take your time lass!” A familiar voice suddenly interrupts, the owner not visible, but standing somewhere below the ship. You hold back the squeal of excitement as you look over to your captain, eyes begging permission to be dismissed. With a simple nod, you rush to the Portside of the ship, scrambling as you almost trip and try to save yourself from falling flat on your face, before reaching the edge and jumping over the side. What most people would expect to be an awful outcome, with a loud thud and possible broken bones, you know better and trust the man on the docks. Strong arms catch you shifting you slightly so they’re wrapped around your waist, your own arms wrapping around his broad shoulders and eyes instantly finding one another's.

“You always catch me.” You hum, pressing your forehead to Edwards as he smirks.

“You’re so cheesy, lass.” He chuckles, pressing his lips softly to yours. “Happy Birthday."

“It is now.” You hum, covering his lips with yours again.

“We didn’ come all the way ‘er to watch the pair of you shack up.” Blackbeard interrupts, making you pull away, a deep blush on your cheeks as Mary and Anne, even Adewale, stifle their laughter.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually follow me out Thatch. Thought you’d still be guzzlin' down rum.” Edward shoots back, gently putting down for you to stand on your own two feet.

“You forget lad, her bein’ involved with the Assassin’s means we’ve known her longer; we’re just as excited to see her too.” He reminds, approaching you and opening his arms out, letting you happily fall into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Happy Birthday (Y/L/N)."

Thatch is somewhat of a father figure to you now that you spent your life at sea. Every time you’d meet, you’d exchange stories on your latest adventures and he’d express how proud he was of you at some point. He was also someone that you felt like you could go to not only with your secrets but for advice too. Mary and Anne can easily offer that to you as well, but Thatch has more years of experience notched under his belt, so you save the difficult decisions to ask him. Being a fatherly figure also meant Thatch kept his eye on Edward and your relationship, knowing the mans mischievous and often reckless actions get him into enough trouble that it could come back to hurt you one day. He’d offered to personally kill Kenway himself, should a day come where he actually hurt you.

“So I take it you're buyin’ the first round then?” You hum, cocking an eyebrow at him and making the older pirate laugh.

“Get in tha’ tavern then lass.”

It wasn’t too long into your third hour of drinking that you needed a break. The drink is getting to you a little quicker than you’d care to admit and, although celebrating your birthday with everyone is nice, you’d barely managed to get any time with Edward since returning. You decide to take a break, leaving the tavern to stand on its front porch, inhaling the fresh air and leaning against the railings, feeling the world gently rock, making your head pound.

“Ugh…” You groan, pressing the heel of your palm into the centre of your forehead, massaging it in an attempt to make the ache go away.

“Ouch,” Edward’s voice suddenly interrupts, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, his fingers gently kneading into your muscles. “This looks like a bad hangover on the horizon.” He adds, as you hum, arching your back slightly into his touch. “How are you enjoying your birthday, lass?” 

“Mmm, it’d be better if I saw you more…” You reply, turning to face him as he leans forward, placing his arms either side of you and resting against the railing behind you. “Can I stay on the Jackdaw tonight?” You basically whisper, making him smirk.

“You’re welcome where ever you like, love.” He coo’s, making you grin and wrap your arms around his neck. He stops down and wraps his own around your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms. “However, I think everyone will hold me at the stake if I whisk you away right now... They all want to see ya as much as I, an’ you at least need to say goodbye.” He adds, carrying you back into the tavern, with a cheer from your crewmates and friends.

You’d danced, sang and laughed the night away and, when he wasn’t taking part, Edward was watching you with a small, adoring smirk on his lips. However, alcohol can only keep you going so long and, once you’d completely drained your energy, you’d found one of the nook couches and lain down, leaving the chatter and music behind as you slip into slumber. Edward had found you not long after and sat beside you, lifting your head to rest on his lips whilst carding his fingers through your hair.

“Looks like she’s finally tired herself out.” Anne hums, sitting next to Edward, Thatch, Adewale and Kidd sitting on stools the opposite side of the small, round table.

“She was feelin’ the rum ages ago.” Edward chuckles, looking down as you nuzzle his thigh in your sleep.

“An’ I’m sure she’ll feel the headache tomorrow.” Thatch adds.

“You don’t need her for anything tomorrow, eh Kidd?” The blonde asks.

“That’s something I need to speak to you about, Kenway. I’m giving my usual crew some time off... I’ve worked them hard and I’m gettin’ into some Assassin business that is gonna be dangerous needs some slightly more skilled hands. I’m sure (Y/N) can handle it and is more than willin’ to come, but I wanna give her the opportunity to back out if she wants. The las’ thing I wanna see is her getting hurt. So, I was wonderin’ if you’d take her on in your crew for some time?” He explains, making the slightly older captain raise an eyebrow.

“I’m obviously gonna say yes Kidd.”

“And I think I speak for the whole crew when I say she’d be welcomed aboard,” Adewale adds.

“I’ll let her know in the morning and make sure she stop by to see you off.” Edward nods, gathering you into his arms, one arm under your back and the other hooked behind your knees.

“I’ll gather the crew.” Adewale offers, as Edward begins to carry you out of the tavern.

“We’ll meet you at the docks tomorrow, Kenway.” Kidd calls after the blonde captain.

“Don’t be too early.” He replies, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at the younger.

Edward begins to carry you through the outskirts of Havana, making a beeline for the docks and his ship, however it doesn’t take too long for the brisk, cool sea air to wake you, goosebumps prickling over your flesh. You can’t stop your teeth chattering as you pull yourself up slightly to wrap your arms around Edward’s neck, your sleep blurred eyes trying to adjust to the moonlit space and figure out where you’re going.

“Sorry lass, I couldn’t just leave you to sleep in there.” He chuckles, looking down at you briefly before lifting his gaze to his upcoming ship.

“S’ok.” You murmur, feeling sleep easily begin to take hold of you again as you rest your head in the crook of the man’s neck.

When you’d come to again, Edward has lain you down on his bed in the captain’s quarters, your tired eyes easily picking him out of the corner of the room, where he’s stripping his shirt.

“Are you my birthday present?” You tease, eyes hooded from the candlelight, a small grin on your lips as he turns to face you.

“I can be.” He hums, clambering into bed beside you and settling down, before holding his arm out so you can rest your head on his chest. Your fingers trace the ink on his skin as you can feel the ship rocking with the gentle waves slightly. “Kidd’s asked if ya wanna spend some time at sea with me.” He suddenly announces, breaking the peaceful silence in the room and making you sit up to stare at him, fully awake.

“Really?! Why? What’s happened?” You blurt out. It’s not that you were a prisoner on Mary’s ship, it’s just she snapped you up first and Edward’s Crew always got into a little more trouble than her’s… Plus, the assassin’s liked to keep you in view and Edward liked to avoid them as much as he can.

“Jus’ reckons you should have sometime off.” He shrugs, deciding you are still a little bit too drunk and way too tired to hear the full conversation tonight.

“Y-Yeah! Of course I wanna be on your crew!” You basically sequel, throwing yourself into his broad chest and wrapping yourself tightly around him. “Where are we headin’ first?!” You question, excitement bubbling over your voice.

“How ‘bout, we get some sleep first and I’ll tell you everythin’ in the mornin’, eh lass?” He offers, clearly trying to calm you down.

“Sorry… I’m just excited.” You apologise, settling back down and trying to sleep.

Only a few seconds pass before you deem yourself unable to sleep from excitement.

“Why don’t we go-?!”

“(Y/N)… Go to sleep."

Chapter Text

“Oh shut up, like I believe that!” You scoff, making Jacob double back, appalled.

“And what’s so unbelievable about that?” He inquires, walking alongside you and Evie as you travel the blighter free streets of London.

“That you managed to be stealthy!” You shoot back, making him pout.

“I, however, managed to break into the royal treasury.” Evie counters, making you gape.

“What was it like?! I bet it was pretty suave.” You gasp, making her grin.

“Wait, so why do you believe her, but not me?” Jacob asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Because Evie doesn’t lie... plus you couldn’t even break into the Bank of England without alerting all the guards within a fifty-foot radius.” You remind, making him scowl. “Oh, don’t pout baby.” You tease, cooing your words as you pinch his cheek.

“I don’t think this relationship can work without a level of trust, love.” He counters, smirking slightly.

“Oh, I do trust you, Jacob. I’d put my life in your hands... I just don’t trust everything you say.” You giggle. “You can be an awful liar.” You add, stealing his hat and placing it upon your head, before using your rope launcher to speed up to the roof of the closest building. 

“Oi!” Jacob calls after you.

“See you back on the train. I’ll be waiting.” You shout back, curtsying slightly before setting off.

“I’ll come running!” He shouts back, making your giggle.

You don’t rush. You only speed up your pace whenever you need to jump a particularly large gap, enjoying the eagle view of London, now that the Templars have lost their complete control. Everything just seems better, calmer... liberated. Maybe now you can finally enjoy some time with the twins and quality time with Jacob... you’d become a thing since your close scrape with death after the fight with Starrick, both realising how close you were to losing one another and deciding you’d lost enough time already.

You spy the train on the tracks in the distance, making its way toward Whitechapel station, giving you time to jump back down onto the streets below and walk into the station to await its arrival. The twins had an extra carriage installed the other day, Jacob claiming it as his room, now that they spend more time there. Before it seemed only one sibling could be found there at a time, the other off doing a mission, that would either make it’s way back to you or you’d join. However, now that they spend time there together and you visit more frequently, basically living there yourself, they installed another bedroom carriage, Jacob moving his stuff in almost immediately, as well as some of your belongings from your home. You stayed with him in his bed most nights now.

You can’t help but wonder if the siblings have made it back already, Jacob probably feeling naked without his top hat and making Evie rush back with him to retrieve it.

You chuckle at the thought.

“Miss (Y/N).” An urchin interrupts your thoughts, tugging at your assassin robes slightly to get your attention. “Letter for ya.” He offers, holding out the pristine white envelope, donning the Assassin insignia.

“Thank you.” You smile warmly, taking the letter, despite the knot forming in your stomach. You’d already received a letter of congratulations from the brotherhood, so the contents of this letter only worry you.

You don’t even wait to board the train to open it, tearing open the wax seal and unfolding the crisp paper.


‘Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),

It has come to our attention, that the Templar presence in the city of Madrid, Spain, is rising and, due to you having completed your task in London, you have been chosen to aid the liberation and Spanish Brotherhood.

A ship will be waiting for you at the Thames docks on Friday of this weekend the mentor of the Spanish faction will be awaiting your arrival on Saturday.

Once the templar hold is diminished or completely extinguished, you will be free to return to London.

We thank you for your continued assistance in the fight against the Templar order,

Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted.’


You feel the weight of the word immediately, sorrow coming to your heart at the thought of having to tell the Frye twins and Henry Green of your sudden departure. You can’t turn the brotherhood down. To do that would basically be handing in your resignation and any future you had with Jacob.

How would Jacob take this? You’re not doing too well with the news yourself, feeling tears spring to your eyes and pool at the bottom lid.

The train pulls into the station and you step on, re-reading the letter and fiddling anxiously with the edges with your fingers, before it's suddenly snatched from your hands, along with the hat. Your eyes shoot up to see Jacob placing the top hat back on his head.

“What do we have here then?” He hums a mischievous smirk on his lips.

“Jacob, wait, please give it back!” You plead, not wanting him to find out about the news of you leaving unless it’s from your lips.

“Too late love, shouldn’t have nicked my hat, eh?” He snickers, Evie entering the room and scoffing at her brother.

“Jacob don’t be an arse.” She sighs, watching his saunter go the other end of the carriage, keeping you at an arm's length, despite your efforts to get close enough to take the paper back. “Just give it back.” Evie sighs, seeing how distressed you are.

However, it’s too late. Jacob becomes rigid, his hand dropping from where he’s placed it on your shoulder and allowing you to grab the letter back.

“Jacob?” Evie calls warily, seeing the blank expression on his face as his eyes come up to meet yours.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.” You breathe, watching the pain in his eyes, quickly transform into anger.

“Yeah, well, we’re done here in London, right? So, by all mean, bugger off... don’t let me stand in your way.” He huffs, not even giving you a chance to explain as he storms off into his carriage, slamming the door behind him. There’s a silence that fills the carriage as you and Evie watch in bewilderment.

“I didn’t expect him to take it so badly that he didn’t even let me explain...” You mutter.

“That’s my brother for you, he’s always been too brash.” Evie soothes, trying to remind you that his reaction isn’t your fault. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on?”

You explain the situation to Evie, the contents of the letter and the time you’d spend away, where she nodded, features softening into an almost distant, remorseful expression, before coming to a conclusion.

“Well, you’ve been personally picked by the brotherhood, so you can’t deny them. Although we will be sad with your absence, I and Jacob will anticipate your return and we understand the situation.” She nods, making some of the weight lift from your chest.

“I’m not too sure about Jacob.” You mutter, noting that he still hasn’t reappeared from his room.

“He understands perfectly. It’s just sometimes he forgets that even sulking like a child won’t change things to how he wants them to be. I think you should try and talk to him, warm him to the idea of you leaving and make sure he knows that you’ll definitely be returning. He’s already lost so much that he probably doesn’t want to lose you too, so he’s trying to detach himself now so not to miss your presence. I’ll let Henry know and we’ll all come and escort you to the docks to see you off.” She explains, making you smile warmly.

“Thank you, Evie.” You hum, earning a nod from her, before making your way to Jacob’s carriage.

You don’t bother to knock; knowing he’ll tell you to piss off if he’s even still there. For all you know, he might’ve taken off to run the rooftops of the city... he likes to do that to clear his head sometimes. You rather thankful when you, quietly entering the room, see him sitting at the end of his carriage, feet dangling over the edge and fists clenched on his lap. Without uttering a word, you move to sit beside him, neither of you looking at one another and sitting in silence.

You’re not sure how long you can take it after the third minute passes, before a hand reaches out and places itself on top of yours, fingers intertwining and pulling your delicate hand to Jacob’s face, lips brushing the top.

“I’m sorry for acting like such a cock, (Y/N). I know you don’t have a say in the matter.” He sighs, readjusting your hand in his so he can press your palm to his cheek, feeling the stubble under your fingertips.

“Honestly, I’m quite flattered, mister Frye. I thought you’d be overjoyed at getting a break from me.” You chuckle, making him look over at you, shooting him a wink.

“How could I ever think that? I’ll be lost without you, love.” He huffs, suddenly leaning close, hand coming to rest at the base of your skull, pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours. “I don’t want you to go, I’m going to miss you like crazy.” He adds, lips brushing against yours as he speaks, foreheads resting together.

“I’m going to miss you too, Jacob... but I promise you, I’ll be back as soon as I’ve completed my mission. I’ll write every day and finish of the Templar bastards quickest I can.” You promise, bringing your own hands to his face to tug him back to your lips.

The next couple of days went by in a flurry, packing some things, essentials and personal sentimental objects, spending as much time as you can with the twins and Henry, as well as the Rooks, and sleeping tucking into Jacob’s side during the nights. The weekend arrives a little too quickly for your liking and you keep your hood up, eyes averted from the three accompanying you in the carriage as you make your way to the docks, looking out of the window and trying to keep the tears from rolling down your cheeks. Although Evie and Henry are keeping idle chatter, it’s still eerily quiet amongst you, Jacob holding your hand tightly, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles and occasionally glance over at you, before returning his own gaze outside of the window.

You feel the carriage begin to slow and you swallow the lump in your throat, heart pounding as the driver announces your arrival. Evie and Henry get out, offering to load your things onto the boat waiting for you, as you remain inside with Jacob, letting the silence consume you. You watch the two assassin’s take your bags over to the docks, meeting another assassin, him leading them into the boat to help with your things. It’s enough to sniff, biting your bottom lip as tears overflow your lids, making you turn to Jacob and bury your face in his chest so he doesn’t see you crying.

“Hey,” Jacob coo’s struggling to keep his own tone even, “don’t get upset, you’ll be great (Y/N), and back before you know it.” He tries to comfort, hugging you tightly and rubbing comforting circles on your back.

“I just wish you could come with me. Why couldn’t they have picked someone else? I thought I’d finally get to have a normal life with you.” You sob, choking on your words as you feel The broader man’s chest stutter.

“I’d only screw up your brilliance, love. And hey, when you get back, we’ll do it properly. If you don’t want to live on the train, we’ll get ourselves a fancy house. Or, we can install a bigger, better carriage for the two of us! We’ll have a big, fancy celebration and get pissed with the Rooks all over again.” He chuckles, making you smile slightly, his thumbs brushing away your tears as you look up at him. 

“I mean, the train is the most ideal, to be honest, it’s just so comfortable.” You hum, gladly taking the distraction with open arms. “I wouldn’t mind having a beer or two when I get back though.” You laugh, making him grin. You arch your back slightly, leaning up and peck a kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Jacob.”

“You’re welcome.” He hums, chasing your lips and covering them with his own, pulling away before he makes it too passionate and gets caught up. “Come on, let’s get you going. The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back.” He offers. You nod at him once as he clambers out of the carriage moving to your side and opening your door.

“M’lady.” He bows deeply, holding his hand out to you, making you laugh. He keeps his head bowed until you take his hand, using it to aid your descent from out of the carriage and linking his arm as you walk toward the docks, as Henry and Evie re-emerge to greet you.

“There are two assassin’s on board with you and all of your stuff is in your cabin,” Henry explains, giving you a small smile as you slip your arm from Jacob’s.

“Thanks, guys.” You nod, sighing and trying not to let your emotions get the better of you again.

“We’ll see you soon, (Y/N). We’ll keep in contact and meet you back here when you’re able to return home.” Evie offers, holding her arms out and pulling you into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you.” She breathes, her voice quivering slightly.

“I’ll miss you too.” You reply, feeling her press a soft kiss on your cheek before parting from you.

“I’ll keep tabs on you through the brotherhood and ask them to send supplies and assets regularly,” Henry says as you move to him, nodding wrapping your arms around him, the pair of you sharing a tight, warm hug. 

“Keep an eye on them for me? I’m worried about Jacob with me leaving. I don’t want him to go out getting drunk or causing trouble because I’m not there.” You plead.

“Do not worry, I’m sure Evie won’t allow it. But I’ll keep you updated on the both of them.” He agrees.

Finally, you turn back to Jacob, seeing him holding his hat in his hands out of respect, making you grin, before gently taking it from him and putting it on your own head.

“You still look good in it.” He smirks, making you laugh, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

“You still look good without it.” You purr, pressing your lips to his and ruffling his hair.

“I’m going to miss you, (Y/N).” He mutters, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ll miss you too Jacob. I love you so much.” You hum.

“I love you too...” He replies, bumping his nose against yours gently, “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll come running.” You grin, chewing your bottom lip slightly, before sharing another meaningful, promising kiss and placing his hat back upon his head, before you part and you make your way into the boat.

Chapter Text

You don’t consider your life that normal. Normal would be either university or an average desk job that would make you enough money to put some form of food on your table and enough boredom to make you tear your hair from your skull.

That’s far from you. 

You get to live every day in a different world, passing that knowledge and fantasy to others with just be a simple scan of a barcode. A quiet atmosphere surrounds you every day as you sip gently at your tea, book in hand at your desk, or organising the shelves and mentally memorising which book you were going to delve into that week. Your job is pretty good for the mind too. Being a librarian, there’s not really any confrontational moments and everything about the old building you’re based in just breathes peaceful. 

Which is why you’re suddenly on edge. 

Normally around this time, lunch time for the university and college students, a few more minutes until any formal suits would come through the door, it would be a steady buzz of people, the gentle whispers of guests as they chat about their next thesis and how much studying they needed to do and how they’re ‘literally screwed’. But today, everything’s quiet. It prompts you to look up from the book you’re reading, pulling yourself away from the magical kingdom and forbidden forests, to scan your eyes over the stillness of the room… literally. Everyone is frozen, not even the dust partials that are caught in the suns rays through the window are moving, they’ve just stopped

You swallow hard, knowing what this means. The day that most people anticipate is finally upon you and you don’t know how to handle it. 

Somewhere in this library, was your soulmate. 

“Shaun! Honestly, you’re like a moth attracted to headlamps!” Rebecca huffs, following, and dragging Desmond with her, behind Shaun as he heads directly toward the old, faded and chipped stones of the towns local library. 

“Oh, well sorry Rebecca, that I strive for knowledge from physical things, rather than the shite that’s on Wikipedia.” He huffs storming into the library. “You can learn so much more from how a book is written… besides we’re in here looking for old documents to do with your animus-“ He argues, before his feet slow to a stop, turning around to see that the pair have frozen mid-step just outside the door. “Right… of course, it’d be in a fucking library.” He mutters, rubbing his fingers together as his hands rest at his sides, nerves suddenly gripping his body as he scans around the faces of the several groups of frozen faces. “Please don’t be a student…” His eyes scan the room, eager to get out of the time freeze and, maybe, even avoid his soulmate altogether by hiding in the crowds and between bookshelves. Where does he even start? It’s not like this library is that small… 

You’re on the top floor, making your way through the various rows of shelves, peaking through the gaps in case you catch your soulmate doing the same in search of you. Your thoughts wander on who your soulmate is and what they’re like as you get closer to the railings of the second floor. Hopefully, they haven’t wandered too far into the maze of books so you can see them without having to travel around the whole building. 

You can’t help but sigh as you bring your hands forward to rest on the stone railing, eyes scanning over the floor below you in hopes that you’ll see even the slightest movement to indicate where they are. You didn’t really want to be stuck in the time freeze for much longer as you don’t think you can handle the anticipation anymore. Sighing again, your eyes lazily drag over the many faces of students and business workers, before a movement by the door catches your eyes, instantly making your stand to attention and eyes dart over to meet the bespectacled figure of a brunette, his eyes meeting yours at almost the same time, making your lips part slightly and the breath catch in your throat, movement suddenly filling the library again as time continues. 

“What’s wrong with you? Too much exposure to the sunlight?” Desmond’s voice suddenly penetrates Shaun’s ears, a hand coming down onto his shoulder and eyes still fixed on the girl on the balcony. 

“Shaun?” Rebecca calls, voice slightly concerned when he doesn’t respond. Her eyes follow the direction of his, catching a glimpse of the girl on the second floor and a grin quickly blossoming on her face. “No way! Go, you idiot!” She almost squeals, pushing the historian towards the stairs as Desmond looks on with confusion. 

“What’s going on?” He asks, watching Shaun, nervously, making his way up the steps. 

“Soulmate dumbo, pay attention.” 

You watch as the man breaks away from his friends, towards the steps to your floor, as tension fills your chest and a nervousness clutches and coils around your stomach. This is it… 

You see him climb the last two steps, meeting your eyes again as he tentatively moves towards you, hands unsure of where to be, quickly switching from being stuffed into his pockets, to clasped at his front, wringing nervously as he gets closer. You’re about to greet him, his form literally feet from your own, before he brings a hand forward, offering it for you to shake. You hesitate slightly, it not being what you expected, before a smile stretches your lips and you take it, shaking lightly, before grinning at him. 

“Ah- Shaun Hastings.” He greets, hands lingering on one another’s before parting. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You provide in return, seeing his shoulders loosen slightly and the corners of his lips turn up slightly.

Chapter Text

You walk around the streets of Boston, hands clasped behind your back and Templar Cross proudly hanging from your neck. Haytham had recently sent word of his son, Connor, having been sighted in the area, looking for your order and trying to flush you all out to stop your plans. 

In truth, you couldn’t care less. Your loyalties lie on neither side, not actually wanting to be involved in this secret war, but having been dragged into it when you were a child, studying and training under Haytham. You didn’t really care about the morals of either cause either. People are people and they’ll always do as they please; follow the laws or break them, follow or be followed, love and be loved… You’re just making your way through the order now as you feel like your resignation won’t be taken lightly and your death would probably follow swiftly afterwards. 

Old snow lay on the ground around your feet, melting into slush and adding a crisp chill to the air. A chill that you don’t feel. 

Every day your body temperature rises, only gradually somedays, but others feel as if the sun could be casting down onto your bare skin. At first, you thought it a form of fever, warning your allies when they asked about your distance and absentmindedness that you might be coming down with an illness. However, it doesn’t take you long to realise that it’s far from a sort of ailment. 

Your soulmate is more than likely in the same city as you now. 

Your mind becomes distracted after figuring that out. Constantly wondering who it is exactly and what they were to think about you being a Templar if they even needed to know. Of course, they would, you weren’t the type to keep such large secrets from your significant other. It occasionally crosses your mind that it might, in fact, be an assassin. That doesn’t necessarily bother you, but you’re almost certain that it would bother them. They probably wouldn’t see your side of the story and kill you on sight, even if that does result in years of heartbreak. Both sides are born, trained, basically bred, to hate one another and exterminate their factions. Because of this, you haven’t gone searching for them. You’re quite keen on living and would rather avoid the dissatisfaction of finding out your soulmate is an assassin and possibly even go through the heartbreak yourself. No Templars have entered the city since your small group, so an allied soulmate is out of the question. 

“(Y/N).” Haytham’s voice suddenly calls from your left, his figure emerging from an alleyway, coaxing you to meet him at the alley’s mouth. “There’s been a series of unfortunate events I’m afraid, and you’re the only person in our order I can trust with this task.” He offers, his tone serious and voice dropping to an almost whisper. 

“What troubles you?” You ask, prompting him to continue. 

“My son, Connor; it seems he is after the same man we are and is foolish enough to believe that our two sides can co-exist and work together. He’s accompanying us to Church’s warehouse.” He explains, making you splutter slightly, eyes growing wide. 

“Y- Are you certain Haytham? Who’s to say the boy won’t just kill you where you stand?! And what about the others? If they find out-!” You start, the words tumbling from your lips at a rapid pace. 

“They are not to know about this, not even Charles, understand? If word got out, this would become a lot bigger than just our little band of merry men; the whole order would involve themselves. It’s attention we don’t need.” He interrupts, words firm and eyes set on yours. You nod in understanding before he gestures you to follow him back down the alleyway. 

The guards had been replaced. Haytham had sent you forward to get into the warehouse to scout the area and hopefully catch Benjamin Church off guard. Then, Haytham would come in with Connor and both sides would get what they want. Now, it seems, things are to be slightly more difficult for the three of you… no, for Connor. You and Haytham won’t have an issue getting past these redcoats, you’ll be recognised as apart of a service to the crown and breeze on through. Connor however… Let’s see how good of an assassin he really is.

“Gentlemen.” You nod to the pair of armed guards standing outside the large wooden doors to the warehouse, walking casually over the street to them, making no sudden movements in case they take you as a threat. “Long live the king.” You grin, passing easily between them, both saluting and standing to attention as you slip inside. Once entering the dimly lit space, your eyes scan over the many crates, barrels and boxes, the smell of gunpowder wafting to your nose. This is definitely the place. 

It’s then that a warm sensation washes over you, briefly panicking at the thought of a fire and gunpowder in the same space before you realise it’s your soulmate approaching. Here?! Maybe they were a Redcoat? It’s not entirely impossible, but you weren’t sure how likely. How likely it was that your soulmate would be guarding your target on the samenight that you show up… 

The sensation only grows, your temperature ever rising as time passes, making you slightly nervous. There’s noise outside which makes you jump slightly before you hear an unfamiliar voice. 

“Must be strange for you, discovering my existence as you have.” The deep voice hums, words slightly muffled by the wood of the door, as you begin to decide whether or not to hide. 

“I’m actually curious to know what your mother might have said about me.” No need, that is definitely Haytham’s voice, which means the other must be Connor. You sigh a small sigh of relief that you didn’t know you were holding in, as you rest against one of the crates, folding your arms and crossing one ankle over the other. It’s not long after that the door swings open, rather roughly, and you’re met with the unfamiliar, stern face of Haytham’s son. He looks up at you, you eyes locking together and your body automatically standing to attention, the feeling of being kicked in the gut and winded striking you and you swallow a gasp.

“Thank you for solving the problem out front, (Y/N).” Haytham announces, rather sarcastically, as he stalks past Connor, making his way over to you, you and the assassin still lost in one another. “So where is he?” Silence follows, prompting the Grand Master to take in the situation, looking you up and down, before following your gaze to the other man, observing the two of you briefly, before it clicks. 

“H-He’s not here.” You stammer, trying to regain your composure and hoping that your mentor hasn’t figured out what has exactly happened, breaking your eye contact with Connor. 

“Met before, have we?” He hums, nodding over to Connor, the assassin deciding to remain where he is, struggling with the idea himself it seems. “Or is it possible that you, a Templar, and him, an assassin, are-?” 

“You’re too late. Church and the cargo are long gone. And I’m afraid you won’t be in any condition to follow.” A voice suddenly interrupts as several armed men emerge from the shadows. Maybe it’s worth letting them kill you now, as you’re definitely going to die when you get out of this, whether by Haytham or Connor though, you’re not sure. 

“We’ll have a conversation about this later, (Y/N).” Haytham states, his words sounding rather similar to an order, before, he pulls out his sword and lunges at the closest enemy. 

“Lord.” You mutter, arming yourself as Connor readies his hidden blade. You dispatch two before they even have a chance to charge at you, making quick work at ending their lives as swiftly and painlessly as possible, before catching Connor in the corner of your eye, fending off one attack as another comes up behind him. You take action, calling out his name, which makes him turn to face you, deflecting the bayonet of the enemy’s gun, as you brush past him to finish off the previous one, thrusting out your sword and embedding it in his stomach as your’s and Connor’s arms touch. Composing yourself, you straighten up, chests almost touching as you look at one another, your temperature hitting its peak, before he suddenly grabs your hand and pulls you into him, parrying an attack from behind you and slitting the man’s throat. 

“Thanks.” You smirk, setting yourself onto your own two feet, as a corner of his lips turns up and he nods at you. 

“If you two are quite finished.” Haytham’s voice suddenly interrupts, making the two of you part and approach were he’s hoisted the Church decoy to his feet, hidden blade threatening his throat. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want. Only promise that you’ll let me live.” The cowardly man splutters, prompting Haytham and Connor to share a look, before your mentor nods and Connor helps the man to his feet. 

“You have my word.” Connor offers. The man begins his explanation, but you’re only half listening, your arms folded as you watch Haytham circle the man, like a wolf stalks it’s prey. It makes you slightly sick. You can already tell what’s going to happen, but don’t dare speak out in fear the man will withhold his information. 

“-That’s all I know. I swear.” He babbles, Haytham walking up behind him and immediately thrusting his hidden blade into his back, making you lurch forward slightly in a too late attempt to stop him. “You promised.” 

“And he kept his word.” Haytham reminds, earning a cruel, disbelieving glare from his son and a scoff from you. 

“You didn’t have to kill him.” You sigh, more men suddenly entering the room from the balcony and wasting no time at firing of shots at the three of you. Connor’s arm circles your waist and pulls you down to the side, protecting you from being hit. However, one of the bullets must have sparked a gunpowder crate, which is quickly followed by an explosion, the warehouse swiftly becoming engulfed in flames. 

“I really think we ought to vacate, gentlemen.” You announce, helping them both to their feet, before scrambling to a visible, vertical route out.

“Stuck…” Haytham announces as he tries to remove a wooden beam which is blocking you from leaving through a door in the upper room. “See if you can find something to pry it off with.” He orders, still trying to pull it away, the smoke making you cough slightly. “Connor?” You look over to see the assassin lining himself up with the door and readying himself, standing in a slightly hunched position, legs spread apart. You can’t help but smirk as he looks over to you, before joining him at his side and readying yourself. 

“What are you two up to?” The Grand Master questions, as you stifle back a laugh. “Oh no. Don’t do that. There’s no way of knowing what’s on the other si-“ He begins, the words desperate as the tumble from his lips. However, you and Connor break into a run, grabbing the older man and forcing your way into the wood, the floor disappearing from under your feet as you fall into the water below. 

“We do now.” Connor replies, an almost cockiness underlying his tone, making you burst into laughter, Haytham’s sour look only adding to your amusement. The three of you swim to the side and pull yourselves up onto the docks, Connor offering you his hand and pulling you the last bit, making you smile gratefully to him. 

“Church has at least a day on us… We must move quickly if we’re to catch him.” Haytham informs, shaking himself off. 

“I have a ship we can use,” Connor interjects swiftly, staring down his father with cold eyes, before switching to meet your’s, instantly softening. “Meet me on the pier when you’re ready.” You watch as he leaves, a smile threatening to break back onto your lips, before a hand plants onto your shoulder. 

“It seems, your sudden affection for my son will be of use after all,” Haytham mutters, his words almost spat at you, before he walks away. 

You can’t help but feel the love in your heart suddenly become overtaken by the guilt pooling in your stomach. No. Somehow, this will work out. Connor hasn’t killed you yet and doesn’t seem to change his mind anytime soon. 

You’re determined to make this work.

Chapter Text


You shift your shoulders slightly, hands tucked under your head as you lie on the couch in one of the booths of the bar cart of the train. Pursing your lips slightly, you groan before shaking your head a fraction. 

“No thanks love, still recovering from the last.” You hum, hearing Jacob put his own on the table and sit opposite you. 

“So that’s why you’re acting like a stuffed lion. Eyes bigger than your stomach?” He teases, making you roll your eyes under your lids. 

“To be fair boss, she drank all of us under the table.” A broad Rook offers from the bar stool he’s sat on, prompting you to sigh and pull yourself swiftly up, strands of hair falling into your face as you look over at him. 

“And I’d do it again.” You tease, winking at him as you rest your chin on your hand. You take a sneaky glance over to Jacob who looks as if he’s about to choke on his beer, but manages to recover and pulls the glass away with his lips pressed into a thin line. 

You’d been with the London assassin’s for a year now, having been transferred around to several different places to aid the brotherhood. London, being the centrepiece of the world, means that the assassin’s need to gain control of it sooner rather than later. Swift introductions from Henry Green to the infamous Frye twins and the three of you were off, with Jacob’s gang; The Rooks, to free the city from its Templar clutches. 

Most workplaces require professional and brief relationships but in this line of work, you need to trust and rely on your allies, which means you’d formed a quick and close bond that would last for the rest of your life. You’d also managed to pick up on the rather stronger feelings from Jacob. Henry and Evie were what you’d class as the brother and sister you never had, the closest thing to family you could get and probably your best friends. However, Jacob breathes something different. You’d share lingering, longer than necessary, touches and glances, spend most of your free time together and always find excuses to be around one another. You just need him to get the balls to ask you properly... so you’ve set a plan into motion. Evie and Henry are in on it too, they’re the ones that pointed the younger twins affections out to you. Fed up with his pining and constant speeches about you, they’re just as eager for him to spill his feelings as much as you. 

And you love to tease the man. 

“So what was the celebration, eh? Finally cleared a borough on your own?” Jacob smirks, his tone slightly snide, as you squint your eyes and purse your lips. You forget how much of a childish prick he can be. 

“Actually, it was just for fun. I can do that without you, y’know. Plus your Rooks are very fun.” You growl slightly, seeing Evie and Henry enter the carriage. 

“(Y/N), there is a gentleman waiting for you at the next station... he wishes to speak with you.”Henry informs, making your chest tighten and stomach knot in anticipation, the main part of the plan now beginning to roll. 

“I think it’s the man from last night.” Evie grins, winking over at you, making you laugh. 

“I didn’t think he would show.” You hum, everyone but Jacob knowing this new, mysterious character is just that; fake. 

“You were there too Evie? Was this a party that only I wasn’t invited to?” Jacob grumbles, clearly being shaken the wrong way now. 

“If it’s any consolation, Mr Frye, I didn’t attend last night either.” Henry offers, earning a huff from the younger assassin. 

“But were you invited?” 


Jacob growls slightly, drumming his fingers on the table as you place down your last card. 

“I’m going to get ready... I’ll be in my carriage should anyone need me.” You announce, jumping from your seat and dashing out of the door before Jacob has the chance to say anything or grab you.

You idly play with your hair, standing in front of your full-length mirror in a casual, everyday dress, waiting for the knock at your door. Scratch that, you’re expecting Jacob will be in such a huff and jealous rage he’ll just storm in. You can’t wait. Teasing him is probably your favourite past time. 

It isn’t much longer before you hear your carriage door slide roughly open and slam shut. You don’t even turn your head to look over your shoulder at the figure standing in the doorway, you just continue to do your hair. 

“Up or down?” You hum, tilting your head in several different directions, angling your face and admiring your reflection. No response. Anticipation pools in your stomach and a suppressed smirk itches to be on your lips. 

You can hear the heavy footfalls behind you, gradually getting closer, the sound almost echoing as your gut twists and knots harder. Jacob’s reflection in the mirror is behind you, his eyes covered by the rim of his top hat as you look up at him. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You mutter, trying to act oblivious to the situation as you continue to get ready. 

“Who are you meeting?” He asks, eyes never meeting yours and voice an almost distant version of himself. 

“A... a gentleman I met last night. He asked to walk me around the park this afternoon... Are you jealous, Mr Frye?” You reply, desperately trying to hold back a laugh. 


“Why?” You repeat, frowning slightly as you look back at him through the mirror, “Why am I allowing this perfectly nice gentleman to take me out on a date when I can’t get the interest of any other man because of our line of work? You really shouldn’t ask silly questions Jacob.” You remind a lot of truth to your tone. 

“Why, must you be so cruel?” He sighs, hands placing onto either of your shoulders. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, suddenly taken back by the man’s actions. 

“I know what you’re doing (Y/N), do you really think me that stupid?” He continues, stepping closer as he pulls you back into his chest, “I know you’re setting all of this up, trying to make me jealous and admit my feelings to you.” He adds, head dropping slightly, his breath spreading over the bare skin of your neck, making your cheeks flush, heart pound and lips part. 

“H-how-?” You stammer, determines not to give in to his advances and figure out how he managed to unravel your perfect plan. 

“My sister doesn’t know how to have fun. Evie would never go out drinking with the Rooks, unless there was something to celebrate.” He points out, head dipping further and lips suddenly at the crook of your neck, teeth nipping the flesh as he sucks a bruise there, making your knees weak and you bite down on your own bottom lip. 

He smirks against you as he pulls away slightly. 

“Don’t try to fool me again love. It’s a game you can’t win.”

Chapter Text

“I never imagined myself in a wedding dress...” you breathe, smoothing down the fabric of your white skirts, observing your reflection in the mirror as Maria comes up behind you. She carefully placed a flower wreath headdress on top of your hair being careful not to disturb the delicate, complicated hairstyle you’ve had done. 

“Bellissimo... (Beautiful)” Claudia sighs, sighting on a couch behind you, her own light blue dress pooling over her legs. 

“Si, you look very beautiful (Y/N). My figlio (son) is a very lucky man.” Maria agrees, turning you to face her, hands pressing gently on your cheeks as she smiles warmly at you. You chest swells with warmth when she says that. 

Your families were close back whilst you were a child in Firenze. You often went out to play with the Auditore’s, up until you needed to move away due to your fathers business. It was hard, leaving Claudia and her brothers. Claudia was like the sister you never had. Federico and Ezio were always there to protect the two of you as well, fending off any bullies that came your way whilst you were playing tea parties or hopscotch. You also had a tendency to join in on the boy’s fun, resulting in you returning home with a muddied dress from running through the hedgerows and climbing up trees. When Petruccio was born, you were invited to meet him and even hold him, looking after him with the Auditore children whenever your parents met for business or a night out. 

When you left, you found your goodbye’s difficult, it tore at your heartstrings at how much Claudia cried over her best friend leaving. Your affections for the brothers, especially Ezio, being closest to your age and quickly becoming your ‘partner in crime’, just added to your heartbreak. 

You didn’t receive news on the family until a few years later, during one of your tutoring classes. Your father had told you and your heart broke. To hear of such betrayal and tragedy... it forced you to basically beg your farther to allow you to return. Claudia and Maria needed to see an ally, a friendly face, right now. When you found your way to Mario Auditore’s Villa, Claudia basically jumped at you on the steps, wrapping her arms tightly around you and crying into your shoulder. 

“My dear (Y/N), I’ve missed you so much! It’s been so long.” She sighs. To you, it was obvious that she was a broken version of herself and it pains you. Leading her back into the villa, you meet her Uncle, who is loud and boisterous, immediately pulling you in for a hug and reminiscing about that last time he saw you when you were the height of his knees. You don’t really remember him. However, you can’t fault his hospitality. You’re shown to the room he’s had made up and you can’t help but swoon at the intricate details on the wood furnishings and silk bed sheets. 

You lay there that night, thinking over the words exchanged over dinner, everything to do with the death of the Auditore male’s vague and minimum, Claudia clearly not yet ready to speak of it and you not wanting to push her to do so. Whilst you’re awake, eyes scanning He patterns on the ceiling, you hear Mario’s voice in the main hall, his hushed words still managing to carry up the stairs, before a new, but familiar, voice answers in return. You throw the covers of your form and dash out of your room, white nightdress falling to your ankles as you come to a sudden stop at the top of the staircase, looking down at a man you never thought you’d see again. A man you thought dead. Your best friend. 

“(Y/N)?” Ezio’s voice stammers as he looks up at you, hesitant steps leading him to the bottom of the staircase. You don’t even reply, wasting no time in running down those stairs and throwing yourself into his waiting arms. 

From then on you’d stood with him every step of the way, writing to your parents that you were to remain with the remaining Auditore until Ezio’s task was done. You were supposed to return home afterwards, alone, and continue your tutoring and eventually be married off. However, Ezio returned with you, your parents welcoming him with open arms, glad to see his face once again, before requesting your hand in marriage, specifically asking for your father's blessing before asking you. 

So, during a bout of free time before heading off to Rome, most of your bags already packed, despite the initial worry from the man that it was to be too dangerous, the date had been set and the ceremony planned. 

“Are you ready, (Y/N)?” Maria smiles warmly at you, bringing your veil down over your face.

All eyes are on you as you walk, linked with your father's arm, down the aisle, both families (Ezio’s side mostly filled with members of the Brotherhood; Machiavelli, La Volpe, Paola, Bartolomeo and Pantasilea. Leonardo Da Vinci is sitting next to Maria and Mario, Claudia walking slightly ahead of you with a bouquet of flowers. You try not to grin or cry as you spot Ezio looking over at you from the altar, his lips parted, breath caught in his throat and eyes looking over at you in awe. You father kisses the back of your hand as he parts from you, joining yours and Ezio’s hands together beforehand. 

“Ciao, bella.” Ezio breathes, voice still smooth, despite the heavy, shaky exhale. 

“Hi.” You grin, looking at you clasped hands, as he pulls the veil up and over your head, knuckles gently brushing over your cheek. 

“You look radiante (radiant).” 

You can’t help but blush, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. The priest begins to recite his verses, as you wait to say your lines, lips pressing into a thin line in anticipation. However, where you were expecting there to be the lines you rehearsed, Ezio changes it and instead brings a hand up to cup your cheek, making your eyes widen a fraction at the suddenness of it all. 

“I thought that because neither of our lives have ever been that normal, it wouldn’t make sense to have a traditional wedding. I want you to be my wife as quickly as we’re able, so I made a last minute change to the ceremony…” He starts, words trailing slightly as he observes your face, clearly testing the waters with his words before continuing. “(Y/N), you love me as if I deserve it. Your love is so great that I probably don’t deserve it, yet you give it to me anyway. I cannot say I have been the perfect man, nor do I wish to be; I want to be the man that makes you smile everyday, laugh even when you think you can’t anymore and be loved when you feel alone. I may not be by your side on every step, but I will fight for you and hold your hand through any of your troubles. I love you more than I thought capable and, just when I think my heart cannot beat any harder for you, I look at you and feel it pound. I’m glad you came back to me.” He continues, eyes getting lost in yours, thumb gently rubbing the flesh of your cheek as tears pool on your bottom lid at his velvet words. 

“Do you,” The priest suddenly starts up again, pulling you from trance, “Ezio Auditore take (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife?” 

“I do,” Ezio replies, grinning down at you, cheeks dusted a like pink compared to your burning red ones. 

“Do you (Y/N) (Y/L/N) take Ezio Auditore to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

“I do.” You answer, words struggling to come as anything but a squeak, tears already flooding down your cheeks, the overwhelming happiness in your chest making your heart pound frantically. You don’t even hear the priest give permission to kiss you after that, it just happens. Ezio uses both hands to gently cradle your face, pulling you forward slightly to connect your lips together, the guests cheering just a distant echo in your ears as your arms wrap around his neck, this kiss basically confirming your marriage to one another.

Chapter Text

“First Lucy and now her? You guys need better security.” Desmond mutters, as he glances over at you, huddled on the other side of the room with his father, Shaun and Rebecca. 

“Or better friends,” William adds, earning choice glares from the rest of the group. 

“Well you killed Lucy, how did you know she was a Templar?” Shaun accuses, gesturing towards Desmond. 

“Shaun!” Rebecca exclaims, knowing how close the pair were. 


“Can we get back to what we’re to do with (Y/N), please? We’ve gotten this far, we can’t afford to allow her to fuck it all up.” William interrupts, making you sigh and roll your eyes. You can see Shaun stealing glances at you every so often, a form of betrayed regret lingering in his eyes, before turning back to the group as you lock eyes with him, fingers fiddling awkwardly and teeth chewing on his bottom lip. 

“W-Well we need to think logically, who’s to say she’s still on their side?” He points out, the group looking at him as if he was crazy, making you huff out a laugh. 

“If you were logical, Shaun Hastings, you would’ve killed me already.” You call, gaining the whole groups attention, before William suddenly pulls a gun on you, stalking forward, the barrel aiming directly between your eyes. 

“Good idea-” he growls, before Shaun shouts and pushes the gun down, hand resting on top as he glares at the older man. 

“No, we-we can’t do that. Who’s to say she doesn’t have information that we can use o-or something to aid our cause?” He argues, words desperate as he manages to pry the pistol from William’s hand. 

“Shaun I don’t think-” Rebecca starts, approaching him and putting a hand on his shoulder, making him flinch. 

“You’re right, I have plenty of information, both on you and the Templars… but they have too strong a hold on me; killing me now would be the most logical option. I’m a dead woman walking either way. Not only have I been compromised but if I spill even a word on their plans they’ll stop at nothing to get to me. If you don’t kill me, they will. But I can’t stay with you guys; a Templar in the midst of the assassin’s, I’m fairly certain that’s only ever happened once, and look what happened to her. There’s no outcome where I stay alive.” You explain, shrugging your shoulders and folding your arms across your chest. 

“B-But there could be!” Shaun exclaims, taking all of you by shock. It was a known fact that was she, not a Templar, Lucy and Desmond would’ve gotten together and, although you’d had a keen interest on the man, Shaun would most likely end up with Rebecca. He’d known her for so long, a lot longer than you’d been with them all, and they were so close you could basically feel the heat from their gazes. However, you’re now doubting your assumptions, as well as everyone else it seems, as there are obvious tears forming in the historian’s eyes, fingers clenching the gun and words frantic. You carefully approach him, stopping just in front of his figure, tilting his head to look at you when his gaze drops to the floor. 

“I’ve done wrong by all of you. The only way to rectify my mistakes if for me to disappear; whether that be by the Templar’s hand,” You begin, taking his hands and raising them, the gun along with them, pressing the muzzle to your chest, “or yours.” Shaun’s eyes follow the weapon, before darting up to meet yours, shock merging with disbelief, before quickly shifting to anger. 

No, you can help us. You can lend your knowledge. Tell us everything that the Templar’s know… That should be enough.” He bites back sternly, glancing over his shoulder at his team, none of them moving, all sharing equally worried expressions. There’s a silence, a pause as you think over his words, allowing the group to do the same, before you sigh, and bring out a gun of your own from your back pocket, pointing it directly at Shaun’s forehead. 

“I’m sorry… Me being with you guys is a risk to the brotherhood that no one can afford to take. The Templars always have tabs on me, no matter what I do or where I go; they know every move, every word, every breath I take. And if anything is out of line, they’ll find me, nothing will stop them or get in their way. There are several things I’ve done out of line…” You explain, your own eyes begin to blur with tears, the fact that you’ve just pulled a gun on one of your closest friends and secret loves tearing you apart inside. 

“(Y/N), I’m sure there’s way we can work this out…” Desmond calls, hands extended with caution, in a calming manner. 

“You think we want you to leave, or lose you? You’re just as apart of this team as the rest of us… we don’t want to lose another friend.” Rebecca adds, making you hesitate, before you sniff, forcing your tears back and look back to Shaun. 

“I will pull this trigger and kill you. Then someone from this team will definitely kill me. Shaun, you need to fire that gun before I do… I don’t want to kill you, but I have to die.” You warn, watching him shake his head furiously. 

“You wouldn’t-“ He starts, before he stops himself at hearing your cock the pistol in your hands, eyebrows furrowing. 

“If it’s to save the rest of you… I would.” You assure. There’s that silence again. You can’t help put tutt slightly, disappointment in your eyes and sadness in your heart, “Shaun-“ You start, finger beginning to squeeze down on the trigger. Your words are cut short by a terrifyingly loud bang and the broken scream of the man in front of you, your body collapsing to the floor, pain ripping through you as he catches you. 

“My god- I’m so sorry. (Y/N), I’m so sorry, I didn’t want-“ He stammers, tears rolling down his cheeks as he grips your hands, both of your clothes already covered in your blood. 

“N-No, it’s fine.” You gasp, already feeling your life slip swiftly away from you. “Tell the assassin’s- My breast pocket; the hard drive… I’m sorry. T-Thank you, Shaun.” 

“I love you (Y/N).” The man sobs, hunched over your body… but his words fall on deaf ears. You’ve already slipped away. 

The hard drive had all the latest inside information on the Templars; their highest members, their plans… One thing that the Templars didn’t expect was for you to befriend and fall in love with your targets.

Chapter Text

You can’t help the growl that escapes from your throat as you stare down the barrel of the redcoats gun, eyes daring him to pull the trigger, your hidden blade weighing comfortably on your right arm. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you are under arrest for treason against the state, disruption of the masses and murder.” Someone from the group begins to read off, making you roll your eyes slightly. 

“Hear that girl, you’re coming with us; to the gallows.” The offending redcoat grins, malice in his words. 

“Am I fuck. I’d like to see you try.” You snarl back, eyebrows furrowed and feet shifting into position slightly, balancing your stance, putting power in your legs. You see Connor appear on the rooftop ahead, the small shake of his hood indicating that he’s not happy with you, which makes you chuckle slightly, before you spring forward, slicing the redcoats throat and taking out a few more, before dashing through crowds of people that had begun to gather around you, making your way to your fellow assassin. Suddenly, hands emerge from the shadows as you round a corner, hoisting you into the darkness, a hand clamping over your mouth to stop you yelping and crying out in shock. You watch with widened eyes as the redcoat’s storm past, unaware of your hiding spot, chasing after shadows before the hands release you and you spin around to see Connor glaring at you from under his hood. 

“Hello, darling-“ You stat, the sweetest smile gracing your lips as you lean close, pushing up onto your tiptoes before you’re interrupted. 

“I can’t take you anywhere, you just fight everyone… Why is that (Y/N)?” He sighs, arms crossed tightly over his chest, figure unmoving as he continues to look down at you. 

“Excuse me, I didn’t fight anyone.” You huff, rolling back onto your feet, hands resting on your hips in an argumentative stance. 

“Yes; you, in fact, cut down a redcoat, even though he didn’t engage with you.” He corrects himself, tone as hard as stone. 

“He was looking at me in a way that I didn’t-“ You start to protest. However, you’re cut off by shouting from down the alleyway. You turn around and see one of the redcoats from before pointing in your direction, gaining the attention of his group and setting off in a spirit towards the two of you. You can’t help the curse leave your lips as Connor grabs your hand, pulling you off into a run, rounding a corner and onto the busy streets of Boston. 

“Do you know how much trouble you’re in?” Connor calls over his shoulder, making you roll your eyes as you keep up with his pace, following him to the closest hiding spot out of the redcoat’s sight to lose them properly. You hear Connor mention somewhere up ahead, before he heaves you into a haystack, jumping in immediately after you and covering your body with his, his elbows supporting him so his face is just inches from your own. You can’t stop the grin forming on your lips as you look up at him, his own expression still one conveying his anger. 

“Can I kiss you?” You hum, words a quiet whisper as you hear the redcoats pass. 

“After today, why should I allow that?” He questions, words stern as he glares down at you. Connor really does love you. You’ve been together for almost a year now, having known one another since you started your assassin training with him a previous two years before that. You know that most of his anger that is being channelled towards you at the moment will be to do with his worry over you being injured, or worse, due to your own recklessness, rather than whatever it is that you have done this time around. 

“You say that everytime dear.” You tease, making him growl slightly, hands coming to grip your wrists, pinning them above your head. Your eyes widen in shock at his sudden actions, the other assassin has never been this aggressive towards you before. 

“I’m being serious (Y/N)! I worry about you. Even on normal days when you’re actually paying attention to my training and following the rules; I worry when you’re out of my sight, about what harm may come to you. So when you are out being as reckless and stupid as you have been today, my worry only increases… You’re more stress than I’ve dealt with for a long time and I’m not sure how much longer I can endure it.” He puts sternly, making you swallow hard and blink back the sudden tears forming on your lower lids. A short silence passes between the two of you, neither sure what to do with one another. You can hear the distant talking from civilians outside of your hiding spot as time continues, your eyes still locked with one another’s, before his head comes down, lips covering your own, kissing you softer than you’ve felt before, his hands sliding up to intertwine with yours, before gently pulling away and looking back down at you. 

“You’re hot when you’re angry…” you sigh, tears forgotten as you grin softly up at him. 

“Don’t think you’re out of trouble. If not with me; Achilles definitely knows about this.” He warns, leaving the haystack and offering his hand to help you out, clasping yours in his as the pair of you begin to walk down the street. 

“You ratted me out to the old man?!” You accuse, words a groan as you debate taking off and finding a place to hide until this all blows over. 

“The disruption you caused, he didn’t need me to tell him.”

Chapter Text

You watch from under your frilled parasol, skirts spread softly over the bench you’re sitting on, book forgotten on your lap as the hooded gentleman scrambles, almost inconspicuously, down a building and into the street below. Sighing, you stand, holding a book in one hand and your parasol in the other, and begin to follow the man, watching him pull his hood down and instantly replace it with his top hat. You follow him for a few streets, ignoring the prying eyes of the Blighters, passing easily through the crowded streets, before opting a different route to your destination, as he makes a sharp, discreet turn into an alleyway. He’d definitely see you following him then. 

“G’day Miss (Y/N).” A Rook calls as he and his comrade pass by you, both tipping their hats respectfully to you, to which you return a warm smile. 

“Good afternoon gentleman.” 

“Summit troublin’ ya Miss?” The other questions, catching onto your worried expression and halting mid-step to enquire. It’s then that an idea hits you. 

“Indeed. You two wouldn’t perhaps be able to assist me?” You request, delighted when they both nod. 

“Anythin’ for you.” They grin warmly. 

“I’m supposed to be meeting Jacob at the train in twelve minutes but it seems I’m rather lost on its location. I never allow my driver to escort me there and I’ve misplaced the schedule it seems. You couldn’t perhaps get me to the next stop before its departure?” You ask, instantly setting the pair into motion, one dashing to the edge of the path, hailing a passing Rook carriage, whilst the other simply bows to your task. 

“Train hideout, know where it’s at?” The Rook from before calls up to a female Rook rider. 

“Aye, we’re ‘eadin’ there now.” She nods, prompting the two Rooks on the street to call you over, helping you into the carriage. 

“She needs to be there asap… but be careful, Jacob will ‘ave our heads if anything ‘appens to the lass.” 

You’d made it to the train in record time. No one, other than Agnes and a handful of Rooks, each respectfully greeting you, is here yet. As a thank you to the Rooks hat helped you get here, you bought the four of them a drink on the train, before retiring to Jacob’s room, making yourself comfortable on his bed, laying your skirts out so they pool over your lap, showing the sheer white fabrics covering your legs, the skirts resting just above your shins. You don’t have to wait too long before the train sets off again and, little more still, before a ruckus rises from the bar cart, the Rook’s jeering and making a fuss over a new arrival. It doesn’t take a genius to work out who it is. 

A few minutes pass before you hear his voice, calling out to his Rooks as he approaches the door to the carriage you’re residing in. Upon opening it, his back is to you as he looks over his Rooks, aware of your presence only once he’s shut the door and can feel the air of his carriage shift. 

“You’ll be the reason why all of my Rook’s are merrier than a drunk in an alehouse then?” He smirks, tilting his head slightly to look over his shoulder at you from under the rim of his top hat. 

“Mr Frye.” You hum in greeting, hands resting in your lap, trying to convey how serious this matter is with the avoidance of his first name. 

“Miss (Y/L/N).” He imitates, turning to face you properly and slowly approaching you as if stalking a skittish animal. “Don’t you look just absolutely ravishing? Come to visit me on a day of celebration?” He purrs, hands dipping down to trail softly up your calves, hitching your skirts up even further as he leans into you, lips hovering literally centimetres from yours. Normally you’d have no problem with this, indulging yourselves in the rare moments you have alone together, but today you’re too irked to even think of such pleasures. 

“I’m here to talk about your recklessness.” You scold, watching his face drop as he sighs and pulls away from you. 

“Well, sounding exactly like my sister is a massive mood killer.” He huffs, shrugging his coat off to throw it over his coat stand, collapsing into his armchair. 

“I’m not even apart of this world of yours any more than knowing your Rooks and a select few of your associates, and I saw you today. What were you doing? Running from Blighters, Templars or, dare I say it, the police?! Which one today Jacob?” You interrogate, causing him to roll his eyes, crossing his ankles and clapping his hands together to rest in his lap. 

“It hardly matters love-“ He starts, causing you to scoff. 

Hardly matters? Jacob, the more reckless and obvious you are, the more notorious you become which just makes your enemies jobs that much easier.” You interrupt, standing from the bed to pace around the room. 

“I don’t want to hear from a newspaper boy, or a Rook or even your sister, that one day you became too carried away and someone picked you off.” You voice, instantly making his face soften. 

“Why do you have to be an assassin, this-this killing machine? Why couldn’t you just have a normal job?” You sigh, prompting the man to stand, taking your hands in his to stop your pacing. 

“(Y/N)… yes, I know it’s a questionable line of work, but I’m good at it at least. I’ll be coming home to you every day of the week if you wish for it to be so. I know being an accountant, or a baker or literally anything else is probably more respectable than being an assassin, but I’m doing it for London. The Templars hold on this city needs to be eradicated and only me and my sister can do that.” He sighs, catching your chin with his finger to nudge it gently to make you look at him. 

“If I wanted respectable I would’ve allowed my parents to marry off to whichever suitor was next in line…” You hum, eyes running gently over his facial features. “You are a respectable man Jacob… I just wish I knew you were safe. I wish I didn’t have to worry about your life every day because of your profession.” You sigh, allowing him to bring you close, wrapping his arms around your form and embracing you securely. 

“As long as I know I’m coming back to you every day, you don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll fight Starrick bare handed if I can spend the rest of my time with you.” He hums, thumbs running gently over your knuckles as you part, dipping down to press his lips over yours. 

“Jacob Frye!” Evie’s voice suddenly calls through from the next carriage, making the assassin sigh against you as he, reluctantly, pulls away from you. “Why are the police scouting around Westminster for you? Abberline is having to go around and tell them all to forget about you.” She explains, bursting into his carriage. Upon noticing you, she nods in greeting, her sour expression faulting for just a second, before turning back to Jacob again, making you chuckle. 

“Good afternoon, Evie.” You greet, before looking up at Jacob. “Jacob dear, I really think you should go and apologise to Inspector Aberline as soon as you’re able… he can get into a lot of trouble for these things you know?” You remind, making him mutter under his breath, making his way to the door of his carriage. 

“You better be here when I get back.” He calls back to you, making your grin. 

“Of course.” You’re able to reply before he clambers up onto the roof and is gone. 

“Thank you (Y/N)… he has a habit of not listening to me.” Evie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. 

“No problem.” You reply, a warm smile taking over your lips. 

“I’m sure he won’t be long but would you like some tea whilst you wait?” She offers, making to leave. 

“That’d be lovely.”

Chapter Text

Arno never spoke of Élise. Well, not properly anyway. He’d bring her up in conversation every so often, on how she would do or say something. But it’d always bring a sad, distant smile to his face and a reminiscent look in his eyes that seemed to age him. You didn’t feel threatened by the relationship that they had either. More than anything you admired who she was. Arno’s love for you is completely different than the one he had for Élise, but in no way is yours insignificant or half of what theirs was. You knew them both when she was still alive, both entering your lives once you’d joined the brotherhood; you’d even fought alongside them in hopes that the Templars and Assassin’s could, someday, be allies. However, this cost Élise her life and achieved very little for your cause. The whole ordeal changed Arno. To begin with, it was definitely a terrible change, met with a lot of lashing out, at you and your fellow brothers, brooding and disappearances for days at a time. You always found him at the same place though; Élise’s grave. 

It took some time but he transitioned into a better man, taking control of the brotherhood and guiding them into something better than they already were, earning himself the title of mentor and Master Assassin. It brought a smile to your face to see him awarded that by the council. He kept it professional, a stoic expression and steady hands during the small ceremony, but after he turned into, what you can only describe, as a ten-year-old, jumping and bounding with immense energy, dragging you up to the roof of the Café Théâtre, squealing about the award all the way. 

That’s where it happened. In a bout of excitement, he picked you up and spun you around, kissing you on the lips. It shocked you, to begin with, your whole body freezing up and going ridged until he put you back down. You would’ve said it was just a random act of excitement and put no meaning to it until he did it again; this time cupping your face gently and pulling you close, covering your lips with his own and working against one another’s with a perfect rhythm. 

Élise’s death had changed him in the way that he wouldn’t let life pass him by anymore. He’d do a lot more things on impulse and for his own happiness and amusement just so he knows he can spend the best part of his time enjoying himself. Of course, this doesn’t apply to the brotherhood. Once he’s in the bureau he has a cool, calculated, level-head on himself. But with you, he made the decision not to hold back any longer and ask to court you, as well as making sure he spends time with you, both doing things together that the other is interested in and spending valuable time together just to make one another happy. You couldn’t ask for him to be any better. 

Because of all this change, you’ve noticed he hasn’t been visiting Élise’s grave as much anymore, not out of forgetfulness or neglect, but because he’s been able to move on. It’s something she probably would’ve wanted too. He still makes the odd visit, just to fill her in on anything important that might’ve happened in her absence and things from day to day life… you’d occasionally go with him, her being your friend too after all. But with how close the two were, you prefer to leave Arno to it, knowing he’d appreciate the time alone with her. 

Overall, you couldn’t wish for a better life, especially in the role of an assassin. 

The bureau seemed to be in a frenzy today but you know it’s for nothing bad, luckily. Today is the day that your latest assassin recruits ‘graduate’ per say. All of them have been training hard for countless months and, after going through their final exams under the watchful eyes of Arno, today is the day they are officially placed into the brotherhood, to take their vows and receive the mark of the assassins. This, obviously, causes a frenzy on a normal occasion. However, this time, everyone is rushing around more than usual as Arno is yet to be seen. He’s supposed to be at the ceremony to take vows with the new recruits as well as give them their marks, but no one’s seen him all day. 

“(Y/N),” one of the mentors, Guillaume Beylier, calls out to you from on top of the grand staircase, “any ideas? Surely you were the last to see him?”

“Woke up to an empty bed, Monsieur.” You shrug, looking up at him.

“What could be more important than this?” He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.

“Well, it must be of great importance for him to-” you begin before something clicks and you curse yourself for being so forgetful. “Sacre bleu, Guillaume, what is the date?” You request, a pause between the two of you as he tries to recall.

“28th July… why, do you know where he is?-“ he replies before you cut him off by setting off into a run down the main corridor.

“Je reviendrai, Monsieur! (I will return later, Monsieur!)” You call over your shoulder.

“Wait, (Y/N), we cant have you disappearing as well-!” 

You dash out of the bureau, passing the assassin at the gate as you do, barely able to give him a wave with his your mind his racing and the speed you’re pushing yourself too. Clambering up the wall, you make your way through the street, easily dodging and weaving around civilians and avoid protests as you go, making sure to stop off briefly at a flower stand, gathering a bouquet of bluebells, roses and lilies, insisting the vendor kept the change you basically through at him. Setting off into a run again, minding the flowers, you turn several corners and cut through a few alleys to reach the gates of the cemetery, already spotting the signature blue hood you associate with your lover.

Quietly approaching, you can’t hear Arno speaking, so decide it’s a suitable time to step forward and make your presence known, not wishing to interrupt anything. He’s kneeling at Elise’s grave as you approach, slowly stepping forward, making sure to have your breathing under control from the sprinting you’ve just done, and laying the flowers on her tombstone.

“Je suis désolée Élise (I’m sorry, Élise), I almost forgot again… but I made it.” You speak softly, still managing to startle Arno, catching him quickly wiping his eyes before you kneel next to him.

“(Y/N)… I didn’t expect to see you here.” He basically mutters, probably noticing the bright red cheeks you’re sporting.

“C’mon, I know it’s been two years, but I wouldn’t miss a chance for the trio to get back together again.” You smirk warmly, nudging his shoulder lightly. “I miss her too y’know. It’s only fair I check up on her occasionally too to prove that.” You add, looking back to the headstone in front of you.

“I-I didn’t mean-” The assassin stammers, worried that he’d offended you.

“I know.” You assure, quirking a corner of your lip up as you place a hand on top of his where it’s resting on his thigh. Silence passes between the two three of you, just basking in one another’s presence and thinking back through the good times you had and the times that could’ve been. It’s then that you decide to speak, noting how Arno’s hand turn up under yours to clasp it, entwining your fingers and squeezing slightly. “You’re allowed to cry.” You hum, side-eyeing him slightly, noting how his eyes have become red and fresh tears rest on his lower lid, refusing to be spilt.

“Not in front of you, I’m not. I’m supposed to be strong for you.” He denies, shaking his head slightly, making your heart pound.

“Arno Dorian, out of everyone I should be the person that you can cry in front of!” You exclaim, pulling away a shoving him slightly, anger boiling inside of you at the thought of him holding back tears because of his ‘masculinity’ or ‘strength’ in front of you. “That’s what I’m here for! I’m here to look after you when you’re hurting, patch you up when you’re injured, love you when you’re broken and comfort you when you’re crying.” You rant, your own tears pooling in your eyes, your love for Arno swelling in your chest and the need to see Élise, even just one more time, crumbling your resolve. “So don’t you ever try to hold back tears in front of me.” You cry, watching as his own emotions get the better of him and you pull him in close, his head resting on your chest as you bury your face into his neck. The pair of you sit like that, hunched over in each other’s embrace and crying into each other’s arms for some time, both comforting one another by just being there.

Chapter Text

“Are you snooping again?” You call from where you’re sitting in front of the fireplace, eyes lazily dragging over the words of your book, too distracted by the way Connor keeps passing the doorway. 

“The old man must have some information on my father.” He mutters, passing again before you hear him head upstairs. Rolling your eyes and groaning, you close your book, leaving it on the side table, and push yourself out of the chair to follow him up to the second floor. 

“Connor, if there was anything Achilles wanted to share with you, he probably would’ve done by now. Please don’t go too far into his privacy after everything he’s done for you. Somethings are best kept a secret.” You call out, finding him creating some form of structure out of a chair and boxes to reach the attic opening hatch. 

“If it is something to help take down the order then don’t you think I need to know it (Y/N)? I should know everything about this man.” He huffs, pushing open the hatch and pulling himself up, before his hand reappears and is extended to you. “Come, I need your help.” 

Oh no, I am not getting involved in this one Connor. You always pull me into these ridiculous schemes- ones which you never think through, might I add, and they alwaysresult in me getting into trouble.” You insist, folding your arms tightly across your chest as you watch his hand retract. However, his face suddenly appears as he lies down to look at you, soft eyes and basically pouting lips tearing your moral… “No I’m not doing it… getting into trouble with the redcoats is one thing, but with the old man? That’s basically a death wish and you know it.” You state, shaking your head firmly but risking another glance at the man, whose face only seems to get softer and more… puppy like. “Fine.” You groan, clambering onto the makeshift stairs and holding your hand up, waiting for him to take it and hoist you up. He knew how to play you. 

Ever since you joined the brotherhood he had you wrapped around his finger. He insists he has no idea what you’re talking about and, to begin with, you believed that. But now you’re certain he’s caught on and manages to get you into tight situations because he ‘needs your help’ or you ‘have the right skill set’ or ‘he wants to spend time with you’. 

It’s frustrating at the best of times, but you can’t force yourself to be mad at him, he’s your other half. He’d worked the courage to ask you a few months after joining the assassin’s if you’d go on a date with him. You’d hear all about his brooding and pining from Achilles who was about ready to swat the boy with his cane if he didn’t ‘man up and ask’. You’re fairly certain that’s why The Old Man had it out for you for a few days. Technically you were the source of his migraines from Connor. 

The two of you have even discussed trying to settle down and start a family once this whole Templar business has blown over. You thought it would be nice and simple, in a complicated, well planned way, until you’d found out that the Grand Master is Connor’s father. That made the task a bit different and your approach to it severely change. You weren’t sure how to bring it up for a while but slowly it’s become easier. The more Connor speaks about it, the more you feel able to; knowing he isn’t too touchy about his relationship with his father… no love lost it seems. The pair of you haven’t shared those three special words with one another yet, both too scared of what’ll happen when you do. You’re both waiting for the right time, the time when it just tumbles from your lips naturally, without a thought.

The pair of you stand next to one another, your hands resting on your hips, as you both scan your eyes over the dark, dusty attic. 

“Some of this stuff looks like it could decades old…” You mutter, watching as Connor sets off rifling through things. 

“(Y/N), can you go through those boxes for me?” He asks, pointing over to a pile next to you. 

“Oh no, it’s bad enough that you managed to drag me up here. I’m not going through the old man’s things.” You reply, sitting down, crossing your legs and settling back against one of the wooden beams. 

You managed to fall into a light sleep during the time that Connor was snooping around the attic. You’re certain you would’ve stayed in your, somewhat, comfortable slumber, but a loud crash, swiftly followed by a bang and the splintering of wood, jolts you awake. You hear the assassin curse under his breath, only making you further dreading whatever is coming next. 

“What did you do?” You push yourself up to stand on your feet, approaching where Connor is; his face resembling that of a rabbit caught by torchlight. You follow his gaze to where he’s staring at the entrance to the attic- well… where it’s supposed to be at least. You look at it for a few moments, lips pursing as you take in your situation and try and grasp exactly what it is that the assassin has managed to do. 

“Great, now we’re stuck.” You sigh, looking at where several boxes have fallen through the hatch, some being suspended by being wedged between the edges and the giant support beam now jammed there. The one end rests on the floor below, the beam extending up through the hatch and just coming shy of touching the lowest part of the roof. Whether you and Connor are strong enough to carry that together, there’s no way you’re going to be able to pull it back up through the hatch or shunt it down without doing further damage. Not to mention the thought of the roof collapsing in on you now that one of its beams has gone. Achilles is always saying how he needs to renovate up here. 

“I don’t know what happened, I moved some of the boxes and hit the beam by mistake, but I didn’t think I was strong enough to knock it off.” He mutters, watching as you crouch down to inspect the beam and where it’s snapped at the end. 

“You’re not, dummy.” You hum, tapping the wood to point at the splintered end. “Rotted wood. Surprised it hasn’t fallen down already; must’ve just needed a knock.” 

“I guess we are going to have to wait for the Old Man to come back to ask the other assassin’s to help us get out.” Connor huffs, eyes clearly searching for anything that might help the pair of you out. 

“Well even if we do manage to get out, it’s not like we’re going to be able to hide this one…” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose, “You’re lucky I love you Connor Kenway.” Silence suddenly lingers between the two of you as Connor catches up and processes your words in his head, his eyes glancing over to where you’re standing and looking at your form. “What?” You chuckle, shifting awkwardly in your spot, cocking an eyebrow towards him. 

“You love me?” He suddenly repeats, his words breathy and whispered as if he didn’t catch your words right. 

“Ahah- obviously.” You start, kind of shocked that he didn’t already know that. “You really think I’d do half of the things we’ve done if I didn’t? I know some people’s friendships go up and beyond but if I’m going against the Templar order, redcoats and George Washington himself, I’m doing it for the person I love. I care about you so much more to actually go marching into battle with you Connor.“ You watch as he takes a step towards you, before cautiously approaching, as if you might slip away like air in his fingers if he were to come to close. 

“Why haven’t you told me before?” 

“I just thought you knew.” You reply, your words being carried out quietly by a sudden exhale when a hand cups your left cheek. Connor’s thumb gently strokes your cheek as he takes an almost experimental step forward, getting further into your space. You try to even utter out his name before a bout of confidence washes over you and you bring your own hand up to place comfortably at the back of his neck, bringing him down slightly, before both of you close the distance between yourselves and press your lips against one another’s. 

“What have you two done to my house?” The stern, scarily calm voice of Achilles calls up to you, making you jump apart. 

“It was Connor!” You squeak, making him visibly deflate, hearing the old man muttering on the floor below as he goes to look for some of the assassin recruits. 

Chapter Text

You tap the side of your leg as you dance casually by yourself, headphones in, at the entrance to the cave that you’re supposed to enter. You’re waiting on the team to set up the equipment they need to analyse any readings to come from your adventure, as well as your partner, Desmond, to hurry the fuck up. You’d been with the assassin’s for about eight months now and managed to strike up a friendship with all of them; even Shaun, which came in handy if you needed someone to express any worries or troubles, as well as having people to rely on to have your back and you trust to have a good time with no matter what. Desmond is the person closest to you though. He’s the one that managed to wrangle you into this whole mess of Assassins and Templars. He’s also the person that helped you, step by step, of your animus training and when you were suffering from the bleeding effect. You still have your moments with it, but you’re assured by Desmond’s presence always managing to be there when it happens. 

You’re suddenly caught up in the song you’re listening to, the big best drop coming up and making you tap your feet. Your legs seem to move on your own as you turn yourself with the rhythm of the drop, a small smile easily coming to your face as your body gets the shivers. Everything comes to a crashing halt, however, when you open your eyes and see Desmond standing in front of you, a smirk on his lips, making you practically rip your headphones out of your ears.

“Ready to go?” He hums, setting off into the mouth of the cave, a playful grin widening hips lips, making you roll your eyes and will the blush burning your cheeks to go away.

“Hey, it’s Beck’s… coms working?”Rebecca suddenly calls through your ear, giving you a decent distraction.

“Yep.” You reply, popping the ‘p’, Desmond replying swiftly after.

“Nice. Take your time in there guys, who knows what state that place will be on or what you’ll find. Check in if you need help or find anything useful though.”She adds, before freeing up the line.

“Stick close (Y/N), don’t wanna lose you.” Desmond teases, cracking a light stick and stretching it to his belt, making you scoff as you crack your own.

“Oh look, another skeleton.” You sigh, gingerly stepping over the brittle bones of a Roman guard, judging by the rusted armour.

“It’s a shame that they’re all stuck in there.” You hear Shaun mutters on the end of your com.

“I am not touching them to bring them back, Hastings.” You immediately step in, putting a stern voice on to dispel any ideas he may get.

“What else would you do?” Desmond jokes, making you groan slightly.

“I could be in my super normal office job right now if you hadn’t pulled me into this mess.” You huff.

“And I could be bartending at a super trendy nightclub, yet here we are.” He points out. You resist the urge to pout at his words, knowing he was dragged into this just as unwillingly as you were, you just don’t want to prove him right.

“Why do I put up with you three?” You huff under your breath, hearing Desmond breathe a chuckle.

“Because, like it or not, we’re your friends as well as allies. You couldn’t imagine your life without us now.” He points out, making you surprise a groan… right again. Why does he have to be right?

“Y’know, although you’re in that cave, me and Rebbecca can still hear your bickering.” Shaun suddenly interrupts, making you roll your eyes, smirking as you catch Desmond doing the same.

“Well put us on mute then, dumbo.”

“Shut up, Shaun! They’re having a moment, don’t interrupt!” Rebbecca speaks over you, making you scoff. You notice a fairly large space where the floor is lacking in front of you, the path having caved in a long time ago to reveal, what you can only assume, to be a bottomless pit of darkness. You know what you’re going to have to do, but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it.

“Define moment, Becks… Des has been just as much of a pain in the arse as when I first met him. This time doesn’t feel any different.” You tease, taking said man’s hand, him offering it to you, as the pair of you begin to shuffle along the thin, outer edge of the floor, back pressed flush to the cave walls and hand unintentionally squeezing tighter.

“Y’know, if you think about it, we’re only a few steps away from being an actual couple.” Desmond suddenly point out, making you choke a laugh.

“You know I think Rebbecca was only joking about the ‘having a moment’ thing?” You point out, cheeks suddenly becoming a little bit warmer as you arrive on the other side, but your hands stay clasped together.

“Definitely wasn’t!”

“She wasn’t.” Shaun denies in union with the Tech geek. 

“Yeah, ok you guys- fuck off, stop joking around; you’re really not funny.” You awkwardly chuckle, taking point and a few steps ahead of Desmonds cheeks heating up slightly. You can hear the man let out a small chuckle behind you, making you clench your fists and storm ahead a little further. However, within your moment of embarrassment and head flustered, you don’t see the loose rocks, your foot landing roughly on the patch, causing you to roll your ankle and the floor your standing on slip away, disintegrating into nothing but the inky blackness of the hollow pit beneath. You cry out, hand swinging forward, ready to grip onto anything you can to stop yourself from falling on your face or down the hole. Strong arms wrap around your waist, the fabric of the soft, grey hoodie rubbing against the small bit of skin on your stomach that is showing from your shirt lifting slightly, pulling you up and out of harm’s way.

“Thanks.” You breathe, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, the feeling of being in his embrace calming your trembling hands and stuttered breath, but doing nothing for your pounding heart.

“No problem.” He mutters, your face so close to his that you can feel each other’s breath spread across your flesh. You both linger longer than you probably should do, searching each other’s eyes as you gradually lean into one another.

“It’s kinda quiet on the other end of the mic… I hope you guys are still searching the cave.” Shaun’s voice suddenly interrupts through your earpiece.

“Shaun! Shut up they might’ve finally been about to kiss!” Rebbecca basically screams down her mic, making you and Desmond part with flushed cheeks and nervous smiles.

“Wanna um- keep looking?” You stammer, gesturing further into the cave.

“Ladies first,” Desmond replies, equally as awkward.