#Brotherhood of Assasssin's

[fromashesweriseuphiddenones]

Gah really plot bunnies, why did you have to attack now?! Anthology stories for Assassin's Creed covering the entire franchise, assassins and templars, Desmond, Shay, a couple of crossovers cause the timelines match up, and oh what's that at the end there Elijah's story?!

[ishouldreallybeelsewhere]

haha yes gay people

[teecupangel]

Catboy nonny again, just throwing some sh*t around, what if Desmond survives the Eye but it turns him into catboy and now modern assasssins have to deal with it?

William Miles would be looking for a cure while asking Desmond to take a break. Shaun and Rebecca gets roped into keeping Desmond safe.

Desmond loses the ability to speak (other than meow) but he has a phone with a text to speech app so it’s not all that bad.

A month in his break, Bill tells him that he needs to do missions once more and Desmond just shrugged.

It’s not surprising and they do have a lot of things to do, especially about Abstergo.

Rebecca and Shaun are worried though but Desmond just waves their worry off.

In other words…

Other than the fact that he now has cat ears and a cat tail…

Desmond will just do what he needs to do as an Assassin in the modern day.

.

Unorganized Notes:

Only Bill, Rebecca, Shaun and the crew of Altaïr II knows that he’s turned into a catboy. Everyone else are told that Desmond Miles lost the ability to speak after turning the device to save the world.

This is a catboy setup where Desmond doesn’t have an owner. He’s actually more like a stray cat in this one with Rebecca and Shaun acting more like that nice couple that leaves food for the stray that sometimes visit their balcony. (Metaphorically)

Catnip works with Desmond and they found that out when Rebecca jokingly bought one during a grocery run. It gives him the zoomies but he also acts on instinct and ‘instinct’ for Desmond means taking down everything that he sees as a threat… which is like almost everyone.

Cats don’t like Desmond and he automatically hisses whenever a cat hisses at him. Kittens though make him want to groom them and pet them and “Put down that box, Desmond! Those kittens belong to the woman upstairs!”

He saves the prisoners in the Madrid facility around the time Cal starts seeing Aguilar as part of his Bleeding Effect. He actually calls Desmond “Ezio?” when they first met and Desmond just went “meow?”. It took a few people telling Cal that, no, he wasn’t hallucinating, Desmond did meow at him.

This leads to the people who were meant to die during the rebellion inside the facility live and they sorta got adopted into Desmond’s team while the others who were suffering from the Bleeding Effect severely were sent to a different facility where they could hopefully recover.

This does mean that Lina and Emir sometimes slip and call Desmond “Ezio”. Cal does it too at times but they mostly just commiserate as two ‘normal’ runaway dudes that got roped back into the Brotherhood because the Templars were jerks.

At that point, Shaun just says “Oh, I guess we’re now Desmond’s clowder, huh?” and everyone just goes “???” because none of them knew that a group of cats is called a clowder.

They managed to save Elijah before her mother gets killed and they take them in to protect them. Desmond and Elijah’s mother are sorta awkward with one another but there’s no hard feelings because it was a one night stand and it was her choice to not tell Desmond. Desmond understands it and was okay with it because, even if he wasn’t in his son’s life all these years, he was able to be have a normal peaceful life.

He does purr a lot and grooms Elijah whenever he’s close though. It’s awkward as hell but they’re trying to make up for lost time… with Desmond being a catboy and Elijah not telling anyone about his strange dreams and the arrogant man who whispers to him.

[minaharkerdailymirror]

Playing my positively favorite Assasssins Creed which is Brotherhood (with ORigins being a close second) will be on later

[avenger09]

Assassins Creed Origins Rewritten

Didn’t really like the game, maybe because AC seems more focused on the settings for the last few game and making the story more mainstream by dumping down the conflict to “Good Vs Evil” instead of the morally complex fight between ideologies that the first ones set the bar for. (I think Rogue Black Flag and Unity where the last ones do that kind of take) So I rewrite it a bit, it’s rough but I hope somebody likes it. 

Aya is the protagonist. When the Abstego agent Layla and her team investigates the Egyptian Assassins she does so already knowing Aya is Amunet , and is looking for information on circumstances on why she changed her name and how she went form loyal agent of Cleopatra to her killer, using an experimental portable Animus.

As she peers back in time she sees Aya had a husband Bayek a member of the Pharaohs protectors the Mejet, and a Son Khemut. The family is content in the village of Siwa despite the despite over the Throne between Cleopatra and her brother. While Aya is a supporter of the Queen her husband wants only to keep their village safe. The next day a masked priest arrives seeking aid with opening a hidden temple, he approaches Bayek saying that only his bloodline is able to open it. He refuses despite being told it could help stabilize Egypt leading to a falling out between the couple, days later they begin to make up but discover their son has disappeared. Tracking him to the hidden temple they see him alongside the masked one with a strange artifact in his hands they rush to stop him but it's too late. Khemut places the object in the door the power surges through him and kills the boy because his DNA is not as potent as his fathers . The grieving couple begin beating the Priest demanding to know who they work for and why they did this. He reveals little as he knows little, apart from his masters hide their identities with masks and code-names and that they wish Egypt to be stable no matter the cost. They knew there was a chance the boy could die in the attempt if the Bayek disagreed. Killing him, the duo bury their son and set out to avenge him. They kill many on their quest even those unaware of whom they served, eventually getting wrapped up in politics of Egypt when Pompey is killed and Caesar arrives. The couple find themselves identifying with Caesar's and Cleopatra's belief that the ends justify the means for a better Rome and Egypt. However as their list of enemies grows they begin and are told of figure known only as "The Father of Understanding"  the consequences of their killings and lack of care who would replace them begin to pile up. It becomes clear that the Order they hunt are not evil, just ruthless, like themselves they share the same belief as they do, that no matter who has to suffer or die so long as the end goal is noble their justified. Worse many the people they've killed have been replaced by less enlightened men and the people suffer under their rule. The ultimate breaking point comes when they spy on a meeting of the Order and see the "Father of Understanding" himself arrive to the shock of the Order unaware he was in Egypt. That's when Aya realizes the Order is much bigger then they realized, but should they kill this "Father" then they at least should cripple them However when their blades strike him, he just gets back up and comments that he as not seen Hidden Blades since Darius. "Madness!" Bayek cries out. "Darius lived centuries ago." To which the "Father" calmly retorts "As did I. Who do you think taught him the design?" Throwing back his assailants he founder reveals his name: Cain. Last of the original Humans and Founder of the Order of Ancients. He goes on to admonish them for rampage across Egypt telling them of the good work those they killed did, how they prevented bandits and corruption from harming the citizens. Citizen's now at the mercy of these evils because of them. For the life of one child they have destroyed hundreds more. Beaten back they are shaken by this and coming to question their moral certainty the two begin to argue eventually realizing that their actions have been selfish, that soon they too might kill children to pursue their end goal. Back in the present Layla is in trouble, knowledge of Cain is something the Templars do not want just anyone to know not even an employee. She barely survives an ambush from Abstergo but looses the rest of her team. Determined the screw them over she contacts the Assassins and offers them her tech and what she learned. In the Animus, the couple realize how Cleopatra and Caesar have already fallen down the rabbit hole they narrowly avoided, and are now being influenced by the Order. Despite their efforts to let go of their quest, they agree that the Order still needs to be stopped. Changing their mission from revenge to protection, they take greater care ally with those who will not abuse their authority and work to undue the damage they've caused. Aya beings a correspondence with Brutus warning him of Caesar's corruption. When they face Cain again is not as vengeful parents but noble protectors. Something that actually impresses the Immortal, but during their talk, Cain, begins to act strangely talking of, how he feels someone is watching them, someone not yet born. Before finally looking at the camera and directly addressing Layla.  "There you are."

[zaraquinn]

Show Off

Ezio Auditore Da Firenze - “Stop being a show-off and finish the job”

Word Count: 732

Ezio Auditore x Reader (Assassin’s Creed II)

No. 35

Requested: Nope

A/N: Needed some Ezio love because I don’t get requests for this Italian sweetheart a lot. Anyway, enjoy! Plus I’ve been completing AC: Brotherhood and it made me remember how much I love Ezio omg i love him so much im—

Additional Notes:

Y/N - Your Name

——

——

Stabbing your poisonous blade into the Templar guard in front of you, you watched him hold his throat as he gurgled his blood and felt the poison rush through his body in seconds. “Ezio! Two already!” You yelled across rooftops at your boyfriend as you watch him assassinate another Templar guard. “Oh Bella! I’m on 17!” He said, with a smirk on his face. You gasped in shock, as you whispered to yourself ‘wh-? How?’ Just as he was reading your mind, he yelled back from the distant rooftop. “You should’ve followed me to the main gate, Bella!” He said, emphasis on your nickname. His Italian accent ringing through the Florence sunset.

Although you loved your boyfriend Ezio to bits, he wasn’t winning this one. You needed to win this bet. “What? I’m not going to let you win this one Ezio!” You yelled back, quickly bolting to the next rooftop to lead you to your next victim. You heard Ezio’s steps echo yours as he also jumped onto another rooftop beside you, doing a little trick before running towards another guard. You quickly took out your throwing knife and skillfully threw it at the guard’s chest who noticed you. He took in the knife, getting knocked over his feet as felt the pain dig through his body. You then rushed over to him, only to turn him around and slashed his throat with a swift turn before leaving the Templar’s body to bleed out. You looked out to see if Ezio saw it, and he did. He smiled to himself as he jumped from a ledge on the rooftop, bounced to another to give him amazing airtime, and quickly and swiftly landed on top of the guard behind him. Landing his double hidden blades into the guard’s neck and then skillfully rolling off the body and getting back up. Hoping you saw that, he glanced your way across the next rooftop. You saw everything in awe but shook your head, getting back into your competitive mindset. “Stop being a show-off and finish the job!” You yelled playfully to him. “Don’t worry my love!” He yelled back before continuing your Templar hunt.

——

The sun finally set down below the warm sky as the full moon illuminated the city of Florence in such a way that was breathtaking. You met Ezio at the top of the Bruneschelli’s Cathedral of Florence, as you waited for awhile before he returned, lifting himself over the stone railings. He had a charming smile on his face, as romance was spilling through his mouth as he smiled. The things this man made you feel. “So, how many did you end off with?” He asked curiously, with a little confidence sticking in he tone. You held your head a bit higher, confident that you’ve won this time. “42.” You gave an innocent smile as his brows went up in shock. He quickly regained his cool as he straightened his back confidently. “Well, Y/N, I settled on 43.” He flicked a piece of his hair that fell on his forehead. You let your smile fall as you sighed defeated. Another bet he won, and you lost. He tapped your shoulder, however. You turned around to see him hold out a full bouquet of roses in front of you. You raised your eyes in surprise and confusion. “I’m only kidding, Y/N. I got 42.” He said with a small smile on his face as his other hand lifted your face to look at him gently; his thumb and forefinger caressing your chin. You looked into his eyes as the reflection of the moon illuminated in them. You gave a small smile and took the roses in his hand, admiring its beauty. His arm snaked its way to land on your waist, as he pulled you closer to him. “Besides Bella, you won.” He said slyly, smirking at you. You thought about what he said, coming back confused. “What do you mean?” You asked. “You got me falling for you.” He said sweetly. His Italian accent and his smile made your heart explode inside. You smiled with a giggle as you pulled him in with a kiss. He returned it passionately as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, slowly opening it wider. You smiled at the kiss, as you reached for the latch on his utility belt to remove it.

——

🌹REQUEST HERE🌹

🖤MASTERLIST🖤

[gaymer-hag-stan]

On the 13th of November, fourteen years ago, Assassin's Creed was released in North America for the Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3.

The plot is set in a fictional history of real-world events, taking place primarily during the Third Crusade in the Holy Land in 1191. The player character is a modern-day man named Desmond Miles who, through a machine called the "Animus", relives the genetic memories of his ancestor, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad. Through this plot device, details emerge about a millennia-old struggle between two factions: the Assasssin Brotherhood (inspired by the real-life Order of Assassins), who fight to preserve peace and free will, and the Templar Order (inspired by the Knights Templar military order), who believe control is needed to maintain peace. Both factions fight over powerful artifacts of mysterious origins known as "Pieces of Eden" to gain an advantage over each other. The 12th-century portion of the story follows Altaïr, an Assassin, who embarks on a quest to regain his honor after failing to recover one such artifact from the Templars; he does so by finding and assassinating nine targets across the Holy Land. The game includes an open world comprising four cities—Masyaf, Jerusalem, Acre, and Damascus—and focuses on using Altaïr's combat, stealth, and parkour abilities to defeat enemies and explore the environment.

The game received generally positive reviews, with critics praising its storytelling, visuals, art design, and originality, although the game was also criticized for the repetitive nature of its gameplay. Assassin's Creed won several awards at E3 in 2006, as well as several end-year awards after its release. 

[rvexillology]

Flag of the Hashashin/Levantine Brotherhood of Assassins

from /r/vexillology Top comment: Tagged as fictional because of Assasssin's Creed. Used the Levantine Brotherhood emblem and the colors of the Nizari Isma'li flag (because irl the Assassins or Hashashin were Nizari Ismali)

[enigmasalad]

XD I'm so glad we killed him in Assassins Creed Brotherhood

[iniziarearchive]

ASOIAF: Assassin Brotherhood

While I will expand on this in the future with more details— this sums up the existence and concept of the Assassin Brotherhood from Assassin’s Creed into the world of ASOIAF with minimal to zero impact on the world itself.

The Assassin Brotherhood is a very covert order of which the concept is ancient. Its ‘creed’ calls to rally people to stand united under a common cause: the belief that humanity has rights that should never be foregone or neglected. These rights focus on the safekeeping of liberty and freedom for humanity to choose its own course of life, believing that is when men and women alike are capable of showing the most personal growth that in turn, will benefit the much larger population as a whole. This is strongly accompanied by ensuring the pivotal right of their protection under the land's leadership, guaranteeing that there is justice, always, no matter one's origins, class or status. It is when such terms are met and respected, that the Assassin Brotherhood believes peace to be possible across social groups and cultures.

I hate the artificial boundaries our leaders have built between people. We fight to end the fighting; it is a sad irony.

While the eastern branch of the Assassins finds some slim activity across Essos, opposing the severe reality of slavery throughout the Eastern continent; their general presence in the known world has been, close to non-existent (which in turn also motivates why it’s not known of, in unconfirmed whispers at most, by Houses and the general public). With the renewed leadership of Mario Auditore in Dorne and Giovanni right at the heart of Westeros, in King's Landing until his death (eventually ‘succeeded’ by Ezio); the western branch of the Assassin Brotherhood functions under the veil of House Auditore and focuses primarily on the annihilation of greed among the ruling Great Houses at the expense of the population's rights and protection.

Upon official induction into the Brotherhood, Assassins (though its tradition has changed in the western area of the known world) were subject to having their left hand's ring finger removed, not only was this seen as a sacrifice made out of utmost loyalty to the cause, but it also granted proper usage of the Assasssins' signature weapon (which is not a weapon known about in the Kingdoms), the HIDDEN BLADE, as it allowed better means of extending and retracting the blade. Since, the design of the blade has been greatly improved and the practice of removing one's finger ceased (though is still selectively practiced in Eastern regions), replacing the tradition with a branding of the ring finger instead.

[delightfully-difficult-pirate]

Assasssin’s Creed: Misthaven (18/18)

Summary: For hundreds of years, the Brotherhood of Assassins and the Templar Order have waged war.  For Princess Emma of Misthaven, that war has become personal.  After a mission gone wrong, the Templar Grandmaster, placed a curse on Emma’s son that is slowly killing him.  Emma will stop at nothing to save Henry, even if it means going rogue from the Brotherhood and consorting with pirates.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Sex, Adult Language.

AN: As this story comes to an end, I must thank all of those who made it possible” @preciouscucumber for being an ever patient and diligent beta.  @cocohook38 and @utopiozphere for the awesome artwork they have created.  @icecubelotr44 for her encouragement every step of the way and moderating the CSBB.  Her co-moderator @phiralovesloki and her were very understanding about the issues I ran into when writing this fic; broken computers, depression, and two chapter 10′s.  

And of course, to each and every person who commented, reblogged, liked, and shared this fic.  All an author wants is for people to read and enjoy what they have written.

AO3

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Art1, Art2, Art3 for Chapter 18 by @cocohook38

              Vomit spattered across the sand; a disgusting mix of seawater, bile, and small chunks of the bread and oats Killian had had for breakfast. The smell of it made Killian heave again and blood dripped from the wound in his side as his muscles seized.

              Killian collapsed face first once his body was done expelling the contents of his stomach, as far from the mess he’d made as he could get.  He groaned as he pressed his hand against Cormac’s parting shot.  He could feel the bullet, so the wound wasn’t as deep as it could have been, but he would need to take care of it sooner rather than later.  

              Fighting against the vertigo, Killian forced himself to sit up and take stock of his situation.  Glancing around, he saw that he was on a large beach, a forest behind him and the Smuggler’s Cove nowhere in sight.  

              How did I get here?

              The thought flitted across Killian’s mind.  He was too far up on the beach to have washed ashore, even if it had been high tide.  

              On edge, Killian reached for his sword, but his hand closed around nothing. He vaguely remembered being disarmed aboard the Morrigan and frowned; he’d liked that sword.

              “May I borrow your coat?” A high voice asked.  

              Killian glanced over his shoulder in the direction the question had come from. His hand dug through his pockets in hopes of finding a throwing knife or something to use as a weapon.  

              A pale face framed by wet red hair poked out from behind a large rock, a shy smile on her face.  Killian relaxed and returned her smile.

              “Ariel,” he said as he slowly shrugged out of the waterlogged Templar coat. A flare of pain along his back reminded him of the sword wound he’d gotten during the fight with Cormac.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of being rescued by the Queen of Vand?”

              Killian tossed the coat behind him and kept his eye’s forward until Ariel kneeled next to him.  A mermaid by birth, Ariel had fallen in love with Prince of Vand.  She’d run afoul of Regina shortly after and the Queen had stripped her of her voice in punishment.  Ariel’s search for a way to break the curse had taken her to Neverland, to consult with the mermaids of that realm.  That was where Killian had met her, only a few months after his own arrival.  They’d formed a tentative alliance for about a year, until Ariel had determined that Neverland didn’t have what she needed. He’d been glad to learn, upon returning from Neverland, that Ariel had somehow succeeded and married her Prince.

              “Vand has a standing policy not to get involved in Templar and Assassin disputes,” she said. “But Snow White is a good friend of mine, so I have been keeping an eye on the situation.  When I saw the Nautilus, I followed.  I didn’t expect to find you floating in the wreckage of a Templar ship.  I thought you’d left the Order after your brother’s death.”  Ariel gave Killian a stern, yet inquisitive look.

              “I did,” Killian answered.  “I was… assisting the Brotherhood with getting through the blockade.”  As Killian spoke, he tore the sleeves off his shirt.  One he folded and pressed against the wound on his side.  The other he wrapped around his torso and Ariel tied it over the makeshift bandage to hold it in place.   The pain made Killian light headed and Ariel gave him a worried look as he laid backwards.

              “We need to get you out of the sun.”  Ariel grabbed Killian’s arm and helped him to his feet.  Leaning heavily on the small woman, Killian stumbled the twenty or so feet to the edge of the forest.  Ariel propped him up against the trunk of a tree.  He hissed in pain as the bark dug into the wound on his back.

              “Nemo has a surgeon aboard the Nautilus.  Do you think you could… guide them here?” Killian asked.  

              Ariel’s eyes were wide as she nodded.  “As fast as I can.”  

              Killian closed his eyes as Ariel removed the coat she had borrowed and laid it over him.  He heard her run across the beach and then a splash as she returned to the ocean.  He leaned his head against the tree behind him and fought against the urge to fall asleep.  Between the blood loss and the afternoon sun, it was harder than anticipated.

              Jerking awake after dozing off, Killian found the sun much lower in the sky. Almost dusk, if he gauged its position correctly.  He squinted, hoping to see sign of the Nautilus. He was already feeling cold and sunset would mean a drastic drop in temperature.  He didn’t think he had the strength to build a fire in the forest.  

              A flash of light caught Killian’s eye. Squinting, his heart jumped when he saw that it was the sun reflecting off the hull of the Nautilus.  A long boat was making its way toward the beach, Captain Nemo at its front.  Killian couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.  

              Saved from death once again.

              When the longboat reached the shore, Nemo jumped from the prow.  He raised a hand in greeting as he made his way across the sand.

              An arrow pierced through his shoulder.

              “No!” Killian croaked.

              A few brave sailors ran forward and grabbed their Captain, hauling him backwards toward the longboat.  More arrows rained from the sky.  One pierced a sailor through the thigh and he fell, screaming, to the beach.  One of his compatriots picked him up and tossed him roughly into boat.  

              Killian sighed as he watched the sailors push the longboat off the beach and away from the sudden attack.  He gripped the one knife he’d found tucked in the pockets of the Templar coat in his hand and waited for whoever was in the forest to come for him.  Between it and his hook, he planned to do some damage before they took him out.

              Footsteps came from his left.  

              When a leg appeared next to him, Killian hooked his arm behind it and jerked forward.  The person fell with an oomph and Killian rolled on top of them.  It took Killian only a second to recognize the man below him as a Templar and he buried him hook in the man’s neck.  

              Hands grasped Killian’s shoulders and yanked him back.  He lashed out.  The knife cut across the shins of the person next to him.  A hiss of pain and then one of the legs came up to level a kick at the side of his head.

              Killian’s vision went black.

---

              “This is going to hurt,” was all the warning Killian got before one of his captors, Mulan, poured a liberal amount of his rum on the wound on his back. Killian hissed in pain and bit down on the bit of leather she had provided him just for that purpose. After, Mulan wiped softly across his back with a bit of boiled cloth.  

              “This needs to be closed,” she told him.

              Unable to see his injury, Killian had no choice but to agree to her assessment. He spat out the leather and pushed out his arm, opening and closing his hand.  His flask was placed in it and Killian took a hefty swallow before he passed it back to Mulan.  He placed the leather back in his mouth and then gave her a nod.

              Mulan went slowly, giving Killian time between each stitch to deal with the pain. It was during one quick break that another of the Templars that had captured him came up.  It was Little John, one of the members of Robin Hood’s Merry Men.  Killian had always gotten on well with the large man, when he had been a Templar. Now, the man looked at him as one usually did when staring at a pile of horse dung one just stepped in.  

              “Why are you bothering?  Grandmaster Regina is only going to kill him,” he asked.

              “Do you want to tell Regina that we captured one of the Assassin’s, but let him die before she could interrogate him?” Mulan retorted.  

              Little John snorted.  “Jones here isn’t an Assassin.  He was a Templar, years ago, before he betrayed the Order.  There is a bounty on that bastard’s head.”

              Killian forced himself to breath as Mulan applied another careful stitch as she replied.  “I don’t care who his is.  Our mission was to collect anyone who survived the battle at the cove, Templar or Assassin, and bring them to her.”  

              Another of the Templars, who Killian vaguely remembered to be called Alan-of-Dale, made a sound of disgust.  “A waste of our talents.”

              It was no challenge for Killian to imagine the exasperated look on Mulan’s face. In the short time since they had captured him, he had learned that Mulan did not fit in well with The Merry Men. Not because of her gender, no, but because she didn’t suffer fools.  And without Robin to lead them, The Merry Men were no more than a group of Templar fools.

              After an hour or so, by Killian’s estimate, Mulan was finished closing both of his major wounds.  Afterwards, he was piled into the back of a wagon with two well-armed Templars as guards. Killian made himself as comfortable as he could, though the bounce of the wagon along the rough road irritated his wounds.  

              Killian made no attempts to escape from their custody.  From Mulan and Little John’s conversation, he knew that they were taking him to Regina, who was at the castle of Misthaven.  Which was exactly where Emma was heading and therefore, where he wanted to be.  

              They arrived at the castle after a day and a half on the road.  As he was marched through the halls of the castle, Killian thought about how be could help Emma retake the castle.  As long as Regina didn’t kill him on sight, of course. He knew he was far from fighting fit, but his wounds were healing clean.                   

              Killian was so absorbed in his machinations that he didn’t notice Mulan on his left side.  He jerked his arm back when she grabbed his brace, but she held it firm in her grasp. He gaped as she slipped a small knife between its straps.  He was so shocked that he didn’t get a chance to ask what she was doing before she slipped away.  

              The guards outside a large double door stopped them and Killian turned his arm so that no one would notice the new accessory in his brace.  

              “The Merry Men are here to see the Grandmaster,” Little John informed them.

              One of the guards tilted his head at Killian.  “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

              Killian rolled his eyes as he was escorted into Regina’s presence.  He hoped the Queen could come up with a more original response to his reappearance.

              She did not disappoint.

              Queen Regina barely looked up from the map she was studying to instruct someone to tie him to one of the many columns in the room.  Mulan did the honors, tying him at the elbows to accommodate his lack of hand.  It wrenched his shoulders backwards, which exasperated the cut on his back, but it left his hand free to draw her hidden gift should he wish.  

              Little John laid his hook on the table in front of Regina and then the Merry Men were dismissed.  Regina continued to study the map laid out in front of her.  While she ignored him, Killian studied the Queen.  It had been many years since he had last seen her during his revenge-driven murder spree.  Back then, she’d favored riding outfits and spent as much time as she could on horseback. A far cry from the black leather, velvet, and feather get up she wore now.  He wondered how many ravens had died to make the train of her coat.  

              Regina was close to Killian’s age, he knew, and the years had sharpened her features.  Gone was the slight softness of her face.  It had been replaced by sharp cheekbones and perfectly coifed hair that gleamed in the candlelight. She was nothing short of beautiful, much in the same way he consider a black viper pretty, despite its deadly venom.

              “So the Princess is coming to retake the castle,” Killian heard Queen Regina mutter and his heart dropped.

              Emma, he knew, had hoped to take the Templar Grandmaster by surprise. Without her magic, Emma knew she would need any advantage she could get if she had a hope of defeating the trespassing Queen.  

              Killian slipped the knife in his brace free and angled it toward the ropes that bound him.  If he could get out of here, he could find Emma and warn her.  Now that they were in Misthaven, they could come up with another plan to free her family from the castle.

              Regina chuckled and Killian returned his attention to her as she approached him.  He paused his efforts to escape so that she wouldn’t notice the movement.  “Don’t look so surprised, Jones.  I’ve known that Princess Emma was coming for some time now.  Your ship,” Regina paused, giving him an arrogant grin before she continued, “Your former ship made port in Blanchard and its new Captain traded the information in return for my favor.”

              Killian vowed to hunt down James and gut him like the yellow-bellied swine he was when this was all over.

              With a twist of her wrist, his hook appeared in Regina’s hand.  She laid the tip of it on his chest, just above his heart.  

              “Does she really think she can defeat me with only a handful of Assassins?” Regina asked as she pressed the sharp point of his hook into his flesh.  Killian ignored the pain, and the question.

              Regina smirked.  “No matter.  I have the upper hand.  My sources tell me that the two of you grew quite close on your journey to Camelot and back.”

              Killian clenched his teeth.

              “What do you think the little Princess will do, when she finds out I have you as my captive?” Regina drew the tip of the hook down his chest, opening a shallow cut.

              “With the lives of her parents and son hanging in the balance, and the fate of her Kingdom, do you really think she’ll sacrifice anything to save you?”

              Regina had leaned in close to whisper her taught in his ear, so when she began to pull back, Killian snapped his head forward. His forehead collided with the Queen’s nose with a satisfying crack.  It was short lived, however, for a moment later a sharp pain radiated through his chest. He looked down and the blood drained from his face when he saw that it wasn’t his hook imbedded in his chest, as he expected, but Regina’s hand.

              She grinned at him as she yanked her hand out and held his heart up for him to see.  

              “Let’s find out, shall we?”

              Fuck.

---

              The next day, after spending a sleepless night in one of the castles guest rooms, Killian found himself once again tied to a column.  The guard who tied him had been inexperienced at restraining someone with only one hand, so bindings were easy to cut with the knife Mulan had given him.  Not that he thought his escape would do much good, since Regina had his heart, but he wanted the option open to him.    

              Around midmorning, based on the diffuse sunlight coming in through the windows, a guard came to report that bodies had been turning up across the castle.  Most killed with single stab wounds.

              Regina snapped the guard’s neck with a careless wave of her hand and the body fell at her feet.  She reached within her ornate coat and pulled out a heart.  “Come to the council room,” she said before slipping it back into a pocket.

              Her heels click loudly on the stone floor as she crossed the length of the room to stand in front of Killian. “Do you know how many Assassin’s the Princess has with her?” she asked.

              Killian stared solemnly ahead, ignoring her.

              He gasped when he feels a sharp pain in his chest and he looks down to see his heart, red with liberal swirls of black, in her hand.

              “I said, do you know how many Assassin’s the Princess has with her?”

              “Yes,” Killian choked out.

              “How many?”

              Killian clenched his teeth, fighting the magical compulsion, but Regina only squeezed his heart tighter until he relented and gasped out “Twenty.”

              Regina raised one perfectly shaped brow. “Twenty?  I had no idea there were so many Assassin’s in Arandelle.”

              James, Killian decided, must not have known enough about the Assassins and Templars to mention the Nautilus to Regina.  If he had, he would have known that the ship’s presence in Arandelle would have been information of some value.

              “How did she plan to get…” Regina started to say before she cut off.  Her right arm snapped up and a dangerous smile spread across her face.  

              Killian turned his head to see one of the Assassin’s Emma had brought with her standing a couple paces away, frozen in place.  Sara, he thought her name was.  

              Regina approached Sara and ran a nail down the woman’s terrified face. She shoved her other hand into Sara’s chest and pulled a bright red heart. 

              “You’re young,” Regina said as she studied the heart.

              Then she crushed it in her fist.

              Killian flinched when Sara’s body collapsed to the floor.  Regina dropped the dust from her heart on top of her body. With a thoughtful look on her face, Regina pulled a heart from her pocket, one that did not have enough darkness to be his.    

              Regina marched over to a large mirror on the other side of the room. “Sydney, find me Graham,” she demanded.

              Killian stared at Sara’s body and fought against his urge to pull his hidden knife and plunge the blade between Regina’s shoulder blades.  He knew he wouldn’t get more than a couple of feet before his body joined the fallen assassin’s.  

              Absorbed with his inner battle, Killian almost missed the words that floated up from the mermaid shell around his neck.  

              “I love you, Killian Jones.  I don’t know where you are, if you can hear me, or if you are even alive, but know that I love you.”

              After confirming that Regina was still at the mirror, Killian pulled his hand free and brought the shell up to his lips.

              “Emma, Regina knows you’re in the castle.  She’s prepared for you.”

              Killian dropped the shell and returned his arm to its previous location just as Regina turned from mirror.

              “It seems the Princess has disabled my Huntsman,” Regina fumed as she crossed the room.  She held the other heart from her pocket her hand.  “Such a pity.”

              Dust floated to the ground in front of her.

              Killian wondered if somewhere in the castle, a person had just dropped to the ground, inexplicably dead.

              Emma’s voice floated up from the shell again.  “Killian, if you can still hear me, tap your foot,” she said.

              Killian tapped his foot.

              “If you can get free, tap your foot again.”

              He tapped his foot again.

              “If Regina has taken your heart, tap it again.”

              Reluctantly, he tapped his foot again.

              A colorful collection of curse words issued from the shell and Killian had to suppress his grin.  

              Regina was pouring a glass of wine from the decanter on the table when Emma stepped out from behind one of the room’s pillars. She rushed forward, her sword pointed aimed at Regina’s back.  Regina sidestepped at the last moment, avoiding a killing blow, but Emma redirected her strike to score a long cut across the Queen’s upper arm.

              Regina scowled at the wound before waving her hand over it.  When the purple smoke cleared, her flesh showed no sign of the injury.

              “Princess,” Regina greeted Emma.

              Killian’s heart beat loudly in his chest.  Emma looked pale and had dark circles under her eyes.  Her blonde hair was braided in a crown around her head and her waistcoat was splattered with blood.  

              “It’s over, Regina.  All your men are dead.”

              Regina’s laugh echoed off the stone of the room.  A fireball formed in her hand.

              “Do you really think I need those worthless solders to keep this castle?” 

              Emma summersaulted under the path of the fireball when Regina threw it at her. She came out of her crouch with her sword aimed at Regina’s legs, but the Queen had transported herself out of the way in a puff of smoke.  She reappeared a few feet away, another fireball burning in her hand.

              A rush of wind moved through the room and the fireball sputtered out.

              Regina blinked down at her hand.  Her fingers flexed as she tried to summon another fireball, but none appeared. Regina glared at Emma, and then smirked as she reached into her coat and pulled out Killian’s heart.

              “Hold, Princess, or your lover dies.”

              Emma froze.  Her eyes met Killian’s over Regina’s shoulder and he gave her a small nod.

              “I must say, I was rather disappointed when I’d heard you’d taken up with a pirate.  It was bad enough, your mother marry that worthless shepherd.  Perhaps a taste for low-bred men runs in the family?  Remind me again who the father of your bastard is?” Regina taunted Emma as she made a show of inspecting Killian’s heart.

              Killian sneaked forward in a crouch as quietly as he could, Mulan’s knife gripped lightly in his hand.  When he was close enough, he stood and laid the blade along Regina’s throat.  He pressed it against her skin just hard enough to draw a few drops of blood.

              “She’s all yours, love,” Killian said.

              Emma nodded and stepped forward, the hidden blade on her right arm extended. But just before she could strike the killing blow, Killian was flung backwards.  His back hit one of the columns and he had to fight to remain conscious as darkness overwhelmed his vision.

              “Killian!” He heard Emma scream.  

              He lifted his head.  Emma was kneeling on the ground, blood dripping from a wound on her forehead. Regina stood a few feet away, a fireball dancing on her fingertips.

              “Was that it?  Your big plan to take me out?” Regina asked.  “Rid me of my magic and stick a knife in me?”                

              Aziz appeared at Killian’s side.  The young man helped Killian to his feet and tried to get him to move, but Killian shoved him off.  “Help Emma!” He yelled as he leaned his body against the wall.  Aziz rolled his eyes before moving to follow his command. Aziz rushed forward at the same time as another Assassin, which Killian recognized as Emma’s friend from Alexandria, Red, attacked from Regina’s other side.

              Regina flung both her hands out.  Both Red and Aziz froze on the spot.  With a satisfied grin, Regina stepped forward and grabbed Emma by the hair, forcing her head up.  She held Killian’s heart in front of her face and slowly began to squeeze.

              “Watch, Princess, as your friends die,” Regina sneered.  “All because of you.”

              Killian fell to his knees and screamed as a sharp pain radiated through his chest.

              “No!” Emma screamed.  “Take my heart instead!”

              Regina stared at Emma, her head tilted in thought.  After a moment, the pain in Killian’s chest lessened.  

              “No, Emma,” Killian croaked.  He tried to stand, to make his way to Emma.  “No!”

              Emma glanced in Killian’s direction and gave him a sad smile.  Then she took a deep breath and plunged her own hand into her chest.  She pulled it out, her heart a beautiful dark red with swirls of black, and held it out to Regina.

              An arrow came out of nowhere and pierced through Regina’s hand.  

              A moment later, a small silver bean landed between Emma and Regina.  A portal began to form just as the first drop of Regina’s blood fell.  

              Not wasting her chance, Emma reached out and grabbed Killian’s heart from Regina’s hand.  She flung her body as far from the portal as she could.  She let go of the hearts in her hands and they rolled across the stone floor as Emma’s legs descended into the portal.  

              Mustering all the strength he had, Killian dashed forward.  He grabbed Emma’s arm at the same time as a small woman with dark hair and a quiver on her back grabbed the other.  Together, they pulled until they had Emma clear of the portal. The dark haired woman gathered Emma into her arms and hugged her tight.  With their two faces to close together, Killian could see the physical resemblance between the two.  Emma was safe with her mother, so Killian turned his attention to Regina.  

              The Queen’s hands scrambled for a hold on the edge of the portal.  No one in the room moved as the portal started to shrink.

              “This isn’t over!” Regina screamed as the portal closed in around her.

              Red approached and looked directly in Regina’s eyes.  “Yes, your majesty, it is.”

              The portal closed.

              Killian collapsed onto his back and breathed a sigh of relief.  Before he could take the time to process the fact that Regina was gone, Emma flung herself upon him.

              “What are you even doing here?” She exclaimed as she covered his face with kisses.

              Killian laughed and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.  “It’s a long story, love,” he told her.  He buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath.  

              Someone coughed and Killian and Emma both looked up to find her mother standing over them.  In her hands, she held two hearts.  Emma sat up and took the hearts from her mother.

              Side by side, the two hearts were nearly identical. Each pulsed a bright red but had liberal swirls of black.  

              “I…don’t know which is which,” Emma said, wide-eyed.

              Killian sat up and reached out to close his hands over Emma’s own, covering the two hearts.

              “It doesn’t matter.  My heart belongs to you.”

---

              A week after defeating Regina, Emma stood on the same spot where she had offered the Queen her heart and prepared the spell that would break the curse on Henry. She and Belle had spent the better part of the day preparing the potion that now sat in a large cast iron brazier. Emma lowered the end of a burning candle into the bowl and softly blew on the small flames until all the wood caught fire.  The scent of pine filled the room.  

              “Once we add the blood and the fire has burned down, Henry has to drink the potion, right?”  Emma asked Belle.

              The royal librarian had an exasperated look on her face when she answered. “For the fifth time, yes.”

              Emma heard Killian’s badly disguised chuckle and shot a glare in his direction.  He, her parents, and Henry had gathered on the far side of the room to watch the proceedings.  Red stood some distance away with Rumpelstiltskin, who had arrived from Arandelle that morning aboard the Narwhal.

              Emma picked up a small dagger and slid the blade across her palm, creating a cut almost identical to the one she had given herself at Jenny’s graveside.  Blood filled the wound and Emma moved to hold her hand over the burning brazier.  The fire hissed as her blood dripped into the flames and the smell of copper overwhelmed the room.  Belle’s nose wrinkled in distaste as she cleaned the blade of the dagger.  

              Belle indicated that Red should bring the sorcerer forward and Red gave the man a hard shove between the shoulder blades.  He glared at her, but Red just smiled.  Once he was next to the brazier, the Dark One lifted his arms and shook the squid-ink manacles that still bound his wrists.

              As Emma unlocked the cuffs, she saw Killian’s fist tighten on the hilt of the magical dagger that controlled the sorcerer.  He would only use its magic if Rumpelstiltskin tried to flee before completing his part of the spell to free Henry from Regina’s curse.  

              However, Rumpelstiltskin held out his hand and allowed Belle to cut across it. Because his unnaturally dark blood was slow to flow, so Belle had him open and close his hand as he held it over the brazier. Finally, a couple of drops fell into the flames.  

              The fire tripled in size, forcing Emma to take a step back.  When it subsided, all that was left in the brazier was the small clay bowl Emma had placed amongst the wood at the beginning of the spell.  

              “Was that it?” Rumpelstiltskin asked as one of Red secured the manacles around his wrists.  She would see that he was safely returned to the dungeon.

              Emma pulled the bowl from the ashes, surprised to find it cool to the touch.  Small bits of herbs floated on the top of the potion it contained.  

              “Henry,” Emma called, beckoning her son forward. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder as she handed him the bowl.  “I doubt this is going to taste pleasant.”

              Henry sniffed the concoction.  “It smells like cinnamon.”  He brought the bowl to his lips and quickly drank its contents.  His face scrunched up and he coughed.  A shiver moved through his body.

              “Gross,” he exclaimed.  He stuck out his tongue and Emma couldn’t suppress a small laugh at his youthful antics.

              “How do we know if it worked?” Snow White asked from where she and David had watched the spellcasting.  

              Emma looked to Belle, who studied the book in which they had found the spell.  “Once we undo the spell that is binding Henry to Emma’s magic, he should be able to tell us.”

              Emma took a deep breath before removing the rose necklace she had worn for the past few years.  Once the spell between the two of them was broken, there would be no going back.  If they had managed to break the curse, Henry would be able to live a long and healthy life. If they hadn’t…

              Henry would die.

              Emma pulled her son into her arms.  She kissed the top of his head as she muttered I love you over and over again against his hair.  

              “Mom,” Henry whined after a minute.

              “Okay, okay,” she said, letting him go.  She laid the golden rose in her still bleeding palm and closed her hand over it.  Eyes closed, she mentally reached out and found the small bit of her magic that was housed in the charm, connected to her by a small, glowing thread. She slowly pulled on that thread drew her magic back into herself.

              When the final bit of magic left the charm, the spell broke.

              She opened her eyes and saw that Henry was grinning ear to ear.

              “It worked!” He yelled, jumping up and down. “I feel… I feel amazing!”

              Henry threw his arms around her stomach for a quick hug before running over to his grandparents.  Emma swayed on her feet.  A leather-clad arm wrapped around her waist to steady her.

              “You alright, love?” Killian asked.  His face was pinched in worry.

              Emma leaned into his embrace.

              “I’m fine,” she told him.  “Just… overwhelmed, I think.”

              Killian chuckled and looked over at where Henry was begging his grandfather to spar with him.  “Understandable.  You’ve saved your son and your kingdom from a dreadful woman’s revenge.  I think it’ll take some time to process it all.”

              Emma frowned at the mention of Regina.  Though it had been over a week since the Queen had been defeated, Emma had yet to figure out where the magic bean that had opened the portal had come from. She has spoken to everyone who had been in the council chamber at the time but no one had had any idea.  

              “She’s not coming back, love,” Killian whispered.  Emma looked up at him and allowed herself a moment to get lost in the love that shone in his eyes.  “Regina is gone and she cannot hurt you or your family ever again.”

              Emma pitched her voice low so that her parent’s and son did not hear her reply, “But she is still alive and we don’t know where she is!  She could get hold of bean, or some other way to travel realms and come back!”

              Belle, however, was standing within earshot. She closed the spell book she had still been reading and closed her eyes for a moment, before saying, “It was me.”

              Killian and Emma turned in unison toward the librarian, Emma’s mouth agape and Killian’s eyebrows high on his forehead.

              “And trust me, she won’t be coming back.  I sent her to the land without magic.”

              Emma blinked a couple of times before asking, “Where did you get a magic bean?”

              Belle sighed.  “I’ve had it for years.  I… stole it, from my husband.  Just before I left him.”

              Emma stared at Belle in shock.  The royal librarian had been in Misthaven for nearly ten years and had never once mentioned having been married.  

              “My father needed money to fight off the ogres attacking our kingdom, so he arranged for me to marry Gaston, the prince of a rich neighboring kingdom in exchange for gold.”  Belle busied herself cleaning up the supplies they’d used to cast break Regina’s curse as she talked.  “He was a cruel, disgusting man.  So I stole the bean from his kingdom’s treasury and ran away.  I had intended to use it if he ever found me.”

              Killian nodded in appreciation.  He’d come to like Belle in the short time he’d been in Misthaven. He’d spent the first few days after the battle with Regina on forced bedrest due to his collection of injuries. Emma had arranged for her to bring him a number of books to read while he was convalescing.   “He never has?”

              Belle smiled.  “Gaston had me declared dead and found himself a bride much more to his taste within six months of my departure.  I doubt he even remembers me by now.”

              “Belle… I had no idea,” Emma said.

              Her friend shrugged.  “We all have things in our past we would rather forget.  I’d much rather concentrate on my future.”

              On that, Emma had no problem agreeing.  She leaned her head on Killian’s chest as she watched her son and parents.

              “That sounds like a great idea.”

[jurakan]

Alright the mess that is Assassin’s Creed: Unity

@tarynsullivan asked for it so here we go.

Assassin’s Creed for those not in the know is a historical science-fiction series about the secret war between two secret societies throughout history, the Assassins and the Templars. The way these stories were originally framed was that some dude in the modern day, Desmond Miles, was reliving the memories of his ancestors through a machine called the Animus, learning Assassin skills and information about the secret history of the world all the while.

Thing is, nobody really liked Desmond. Alright actually lots of people liked him, but critics didn’t, and his segments were frequently cited as the most boring in the video games, because for the most part there isn’t much action. After all, the main draw was the historical sections, so that’s where most of the budget went. The first game has all of his segments wandering around the lab uncovering clues. The second had some fighting and parkour stuff, but only a little. The next couple didn’t have any fighting at all. So Assassin’s Creed III decided to fix this by giving him a couple of missions where he fights/assassinates, and then killed him off at the end.

Yeah, here’s the thing though--without a central protagonist, the present day storyline pushing it all kind of floundered around.

Oops.

Pushing things further was that this was a series that was constantly trying to reinvent itself, which can be a difficult when you’re releasing one game per year. Which makes sense--you have different historical periods, you have different kinds of weapons and societies and such, so how the game works has to change. And of course, this was when consoles were switching, so they’d be getting brand spanking new types of systems (the Xbox One and the Playstation 4) to play these games on, after the polarizing Assassin’s Creed III and the near-universally loved Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag.

And so...Assassin’s Creed: Unity.

To be fair here this was one of the most ambitious titles in the series. It was the setting that people had been clamoring for since it was announced that the first game would get sequels: the French Revolution. It would feature the city of Paris actually to scale, rather than the scaled down versions of cities in past games. And you’d get to go in buildings, and they’d be taking a back-to-basics approach to assassinations, which means that instead of scripted events that end with killing someone, you just have a target and you can pick however you want to get to them. Movement was revamped, so climbing around was much easier (and beautiful to look at). Combat was made more difficult to put more emphasis on stealth, and now you could customize your character in a bajillion different ways, which would help you when you did co-op multiplayer, where you team up with your friends online and killed people together. You know, bonding. The idea being that your different friends focus on different skills; you’d be the stealth guy with lockpicking, he’d be the combat guy, she’d be the sniper, and so forth.

The first major issue was before release. See, at some game convention, someone asked if you could play as a female Assassin. The actual answer was no, because you’re always playing as the main character of the game, who’s a dude, and in multiplayer each of you sees yourself as that main character and your friends as other Assassins. Which is weird, but whatevs.

But somehow someone took the actual statement and twisted it to “Ubisoft official said women are too hard to animate,” which led to this whole kerfuffle of people saying they were wrong, that Ubisoft was claiming that they couldn’t have a female protagonist (even though they’d done it before, so obviously not true), and some people going so far as to say that the Assassin’s Creed series didn’t have female characters, which isn’t even close to being true. But hey, you get the Internet social justice movements rolling, there’s little that’s going to stop them.

So already a bunch of people were saying they were going to boycott this game.

The thing that most critics noticed was that there were tons of bugs. Like...a lot. Ubisoft scrambled to fix as many as they could right after release, but the damage was already made. The game had forever been branded as the one where people’s faces didn’t load, and the much-anticipated co-op multiplayer was laggy. You had to pay for certain online features to unlock everything. So people kept saying not to buy this game, because it’s broken and glitchy as fudge, which led to lower sales. Obviously longtime fans were buying, but newcomers (the market Ubisoft had been courting since killing off Desmond) stayed away because everyone was saying this game wasn’t very good. So Unity had much lower sales than expected.

Except longtime fans didn’t like this game so much either, because of the story. There pretty much wasn’t a modern day story, other than a new character popping up with no introduction saying to find this person so that we can find him before the Templars do in modern day; which at the end, turns out to be taken care of, so it didn’t go anywhere. There was an ancient artifact in the story, like in most games, but no one seems to care that it exists, or what happened to it after the historical sections of the game. So again, goes nowhere.

The historical sections were also plagued by protagonist issues. People rant about how Arno Dorian, the new Assassin, wasn’t very good and was just a copy of more popular protagonists of the past. I don’t think that’s necessarily true. He’s snarkier than them, and he’s got his own woes and troubles and is sympathetic enough. I think the problem is just that the story told isn’t his. Let me expound:

Basically, the story starts with him as a wee little lad. His father is mysteriously killed, so he’s adopted by the De La Serre family, a wealthy aristocratic family who has a daughter (Elise) about his own age. They grow up together, they fall in love, but then Elise’s dad/Arno’s guardian is murdered and Arno is framed for it. Arno’s locked up in the Bastile (in the segment shown in Conan’s playthrough) where he meets a friend of his father, who trains him to be an Assassin. They escape on Bastile Day, he becomes an Assassin....BUT OHES NOES, it turns out that the de La Serres were actually a Templar family, and Elise’s dad’s murder was a coup within the Templar Order itself. So Elise is on a rampage of revenge, and Arno wants to help her, but he’s more there for her and she doesn’t care about personal safety and also other Assassins think working with a Templar is stupid and--

Look if this sounds really complicated, it is, even by AC standards. But my point is this: the story doesn’t center around Arno. It centers around Elise. It’s her revenge plot. It’s her father who was killed. Yeah Arno’s dad was also murdered, but he doesn’t seem overly concerned with that and it never comes up again. By all rights the story is about Elise, but we’re not playing as her. So while Arno isn’t a bad character, the fact is that it isn’t his story, so he isn’t allowed to shine his best.

Compounding on all of this is that the French Revolution is mostly a backdrop. Past games used a lot of historical events and tied them into the plot. Ezio’s dad, for instance, was killed because he knew about the Pazzi Conspiracy before it happened. Connor goes and kills the Templar Pitcairn at the Battle of Bunker Hill. Edward goes and helps get Blackbeard medicines from Charleston when he blockaded the city. And so forth. History was stretched to fit the plot sometimes, but it was still there.

Not so for the French Revolution. Yeah, he breaks out from the Bastile on Bastile Day, but other than that? Nothing. Napoleon pops up in a few scenes but doesn’t do much. The King is executed in one cutscene, but it’s not actually related to anything anyone’s doing. And Robespierre’s fall is in the game but it’s not until towards the end. So it’s mostly a way to have a certain aesthetic without actually having history in the story.

Furthermore, the history is...off. And often biased. The past games weren’t as perfect as some fans like to think. Painting the Borgias as obvious incestuous supervillains, for one. Charles Lee being racist against Native Americans and a complete dickwad, despite actually being married to a Native American in real life, something the game doesn’t bring up. But Unity paints Revolutionaries as just being violent extremists to make a moral against extremism. Myths like Louis’s execution being decided by one vote are repeated. The lack of money and food was just because the Templars did it, rather than mentioning that France was in debt because of all the wars it had waged. Robespierre is a Templar despite in real life being paranoid about secret societies and conspiracies. Charlotte Corday, one of the most famous assassins in history, isn’t part of the Brotherhood but just an angry woman who murdered Marat (who isn’t alive in the game at all). Actually most real life revolutionaries have either reduced roles or just aren’t in it--Danton only shows up in co-op missions as ‘the Hero of the Revolution and the friend that Robespierre betrayed!’ Champollion as an adult is in a side mission, despite him having been about three years old at the time.

People had often criticized how the games had you change history, but this one was criticized for almost ignoring it. The Assasssins are all about doing stuff for the little guy, but stay almost entirely out of this event. At least one article said ignoring the Revolution was like setting a story in NYC in 2001 and not talking about the 9/11 attacks.

Past games also tried to get accents right? The first one had Altair with an American accent sure, but other characters spoke with Arabic or French or German accents, and Altair’s was fixed in later games. The Renaissance games had voice coaches teach the actors to speak with Italian accents. Connor and his people actually speak Mohawk in their scenes. Unity... skipped this step, and went with British accents despite them not being English. This is pretty common in fiction, but it was jarring in a series that usually did better. And it didn’t work with a character like Napoleon Bonaparte speaking perfectly good upper-class English when in real life he was mocked for speaking French with an Italian accent, being from Corsica.

The TV Tropes pages have more comprehensive stuff if you’re curious.

All of this put together this made the game something of an embarrassment for the people at Ubisoft. They straight-up apologized for it in public, and its low sales led to the series going on break for 2016 (if we don’t count the movie). Syndicate, the game that immediately followed in 2015, was widely considered to be a sort of apology--not a brilliant game, but a step in the right direction. To this day though, Arno’s often left out of official materials and the events of the Revolution aren’t mentioned most of the time.

Aaaaand yeah. That pretty much sums it up as best I can.

[theyoungestwolfe]

"Al Mualim, that is crazy. She is just some random girl." An assasssin shouted at Al Mualim as the two walked through the hallways, loud enough for Altair to hear." This is a brotherhood. Emphasis on the word brother."

For the past few weeks Sylvia had been put to the task of helping an assassin heal. Her father was friends with the prison leader so it was normal for her to have to take care of the most injured prisoners, being on of the only people in the Templar prison with the knowledge of medicine.

Early in the morning hours while she was making her runs, she went into the cell of the assassin.“ Altair.” She said as she stood next to the door.“ Goodmorning.”

@heavenlycollins234

[delightfully-difficult-pirate]

Assasssin’s Creed: Misthaven (3/18)

Summary: For hundreds of years, the Brotherhood of Assassins and the Templar Order have waged war.  For Princess Emma of Misthaven, that war has become personal.  After a mission gone wrong, the Templar Grandmaster, placed a curse on Emma’s son that is slowly killing him.  Emma will stop at nothing to save Henry, even if it means going rogue from the Brotherhood and consorting with pirates.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Sex, Adult Language.

AN: As always, thank you to @preciouscucumber for being an amazing beta.  Another to to @cocohook38 and @utopiozphere for the awesome artwork they have created.  And one to @icecubelotr44 for all of her encouragement.  

AO3

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Art for Chapter 3 by @utopiozphere

Art for Chapter 3 by @cocohook38

              Hook returned immediately to his cabin and leaned his body against the door, trying to dispel the memory of Miss Swan in his arms.  It had only been for an instant as he had lifted her from the barrel, but the feel of her was burned in his memory.  She had smelled sweet from being hidden among the oranges and the scent still teased his nostrils.

               He hadn’t reacted to a woman this strongly since he’d first met Milah, when he’d still been a Templar.  He’d barely been twenty when he’d met and fallen head-over-heals for his fellow Templar’s wife.  Years later, after he’d turned pirate, he’d run into her again in a tavern. She’d run away with him that day, leaving her son and husband behind.  They’d been happy, for a few years, until he’d succeeded in killing the head of the Templar Order, Malcolm Gold, in revenge for the death of his brother. His son, and Milah’s husband, Robert Gold, had swiftly hunted them down.  

               In the ensuing fight, Gold had used magic to defeat Killian.  He’d chopped off his left hand, the one that had borne his Templar tattoo, and was about to run him through until Milah had intervened.  She may have saved him, but died in the process.  Broken by grief at the loss of another loved one and sick with fever from infection, he’d taken the crew to Neverland with a hastily stolen magic bean.  Though it had only taken him a couple of months to acquire the Dreamshade he’d sought, few left Neverland without Pan’s permission.  It had taken him ten years of working for the bloody devil-child to secure passage out of that nightmare realm.  Many things had changed in the years he’d been gone, but it hadn’t been hard to build himself, under the name of Captain Hook, a reputation as a pirate not to be messed with.

               The loud bang of a cannon ball being dropped on the deck above jolted him out of his memories.  Scrubbing his hand across his face, he resolved to distract himself from concentrating on his disconcerting passenger.  He sat at the table, covered in charts, and continued plotting their safest course to Camelot.

                                                        ----

               The next morning The Jolly Roger left the port city of Alexandria on the morning tide and began its voyage to the Kingdom of Camelot.  Killian manned the helm for the first few hours before relinquishing it to Theo, his trusty helmsman.  When he noticed he hadn’t seen Miss Swan on the deck by midday, he ventured below.

               He had his hand raised to knock on the door of Miss Swan’s cabin when he heard the unmistakable sound of a stomach forcibly emptying itself.  Retreating, he went to the galley to collect a tin of plain biscuits and to make a pot of ginger tea.  Once the tea was steeped to the proper strength, he returned below.  Unable to knock with the tray in hand and on hook, he gently tapped the top of his boot against her door.

               “Miss Swan, I’ve brought you something to settle your stomach,” he called.

               At first, he was unsure if she would answer but a few moments later he heard movement within the cabin.  The door opened and Miss Swan stood before him looking as if she’d spent the entire day getting acquainted with her chamber pot. Blond hair stuck to a pale, sweaty face and she eyed the food he’d brought with suspicion.

               “Countless men have signed aboard ships only to find their stomachs slow to adapt.  A few biscuits and some ginger tea should help calm it until you get your sea-legs,” he explained as he set the tray on the small desk.

               “Tea and biscuits, really?” Her voice was rough and tired sounding.

               “A simple but effective remedy, I assure you.”

               He poured a cup of tea and placed it in her shaky hands, making sure she had a good grip before letting go.  He watched as she sipped it hesitantly, hoping it would help.  Unsure what to do now, he scratched behind his ear.  

               “Ginger is the best for an upset stomach, no matter the cause.  Don’t listen to Victor.  He’ll try to give you some disgusting tonic that tastes like rotten fish,” he continued, feeling as if he were rambling.  

She laughed, though, softly.  “Thank you, Captain.”  Her voice sounded a little less hoarse already.

               “My pleasure, Miss Swan.”  With that, he turned and left, leaving her alone.

                                                        ----

               Emma closed the door to her cabin after the Captain left and her stomach gave a flip that had nothing to do with her seasickness. Captain Hook, scourge of the seas, had brought her tea and biscuits.

               She only sailed a few times a year and just for the few days it took to travel from Misthaven to Arendelle and she’d always suffered from seasickness for the majority of the trip.  The royal physician always insisted that she not eat or drink until the worst of it had passed, insisting that consuming anything would only make it worse.  

               The ginger tea had instantly calmed her rolling stomach and within minutes she was able to nibble on the biscuits without issue. She relaxed back on her bed with another cup of tea and contemplated the Captain’s actions.

               He was just being courteous, she tried to tell herself.  She was, after all, paying him a large sum of money for this job, and it was in his best interest to keep her happy.  However, Captain Hook had already shown that he was a man moved by emotions, and she had a suspicion that he’d brought her this comfort not because it benefitted him, but simply so that she would feel better.

               She wasn’t sure how that made her feel.  As a princess, she was accustomed to people taking care of her even when it wasn’t needed or appreciated.  They did it either because they had been paid to do so, such as the palace servants, or were trying to gain royal favor, which had been Henry’s father’s motivation.  Having someone besides her parents or a close friend taking care of her simply so she could feel better was a new experience.

               After two cups of tea and half the tin of biscuits, Emma found herself drifting off.  Though the ship had been at port the night before, her stomach had been nauseous and it had kept her from getting a restful sleep.  Her sickness now abated, she decided to allow herself the rare pleasure of an afternoon nap.  

               Hours later, feeling rested and only slightly nauseous, Emma decided to risk venturing from her cabin.  She took each step slowly but she managed to get to the galley without issue.  There she met Tristan, the ships cook.  The dinner hour had passed but he had a bowl of warm stew and some bread waiting for her.

               “Captain said you might stop by, once you were feeling better,” he said as she sat down at one the small tables.  Though she hadn’t been hungry when she arrived, the smell of the stew ignited her hunger and suddenly she was ravenous.  The stew was almost as good as Granny’s and the bread was still soft. Hook hadn’t been kidding about the delicious creations the cook served.

               Once fed, Emma continued to the top deck of The Jolly Roger, which Hook had told her was the weather deck. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the bright sun after the dim light of the lower decks but once they did, she stood, stunned into silence.  The ocean was bluer than she had ever seen it and the waves sparked in the sunlight.  

                The wind smelled of salt, as it did on the coast, but without the stink of humanity underneath.  It was clean and pure and she breathed deep, appreciating the fresh air.  The ship rolled and Emma stumbled, grasping the rail. For a moment her stomach lurched, but settled again.

               “Miss Swan, I’m glad to see you on deck.” Captain Hook joined her at the rail, standing on her right. “Discovering the wonders of the Sea?”

               “Yes.  I’m usually too ill to explore the top deck,” she replied. “Thank you again, for bringing the tea and biscuits.  It did wonders.”

               “You are very welcome.  It would be a shame for you to be stuck below deck the entire way to Camelot.” He grinned at her.

               “That would have been quite disappointing.” She leaned further over the rail, watching how the sea broke against the hull of the ship.

               “Just don’t fall overboard, lass.  The sea is a harsh mistress.” With that, he left her to her wonder.

               Pulling herself back, just a little, she watched from the corner of her eye as he walked across the deck.  He’d forgone the large black coat he’d worn every other time she’d seen him, dressed only in a loose top, vest, and tight trousers, sword swinging at his hip.  

               He was a handsome man, this Captain Hook.  Tall and thin, but obviously well-muscled, based on the ease with which he’d lifted her the day before.  She wasn’t sure if the scruff of a beard was intentional or because he hadn’t bothered to shave for a few days, but it suited him.  But what really drew her were his eyes.  They weren’t the same blue as the sea they currently sailed, but just a little darker.  A little stormier, too, if she was feeling poetic.

                                                        ----

               About a week after leaving Alexandria, Hook was pleased to see that Swan was spending more and more time on deck.  He knew from Tristan that she was still drinking some ginger tea each day, but she seemed to have found her sea legs.  When on deck she kept mostly to herself.  He usually spotted her seated on a coil of line, reading, something called Her Handsome Hero.  He’d read a few lines over her shoulder the other morning and realized it was a romantic adventure novel, which was a bit fanciful for his tastes. It didn’t seem to be to her liking either, if the way she was currently dozing off at the bow was any indication.

                “Be careful, Swan, the sun will bake you alive if you fall asleep on deck,” he commented as he drew near.  “How about a duel to wake you up?  It’s been awhile since I’ve crossed blades with an assassin.”  

Assassins were trained to fight with many different types of weapons, but most favored their wrist blades.  As a Templar, he’d been trained in countering the small, deadly blades, but it had been years since he’d needed to test those skills.  

               She shielded her eyes with a hand and gazed up at him, an eyebrow raised, “Really?”

               “Come on, Swan.  You have something better to do?” He glanced at the book in her hand.

               Emma rolled her eyes and after setting the book aside, stood. He shucked his heavy coat as they headed toward the middle of the deck and pulled his sword from its sheath. Starkey offered her his sword, which she accepted and gave an experimental swing.  She was dressed in a simple shirt under a blue leather vest, which would protect her from any accidental injuries.  Though she appeared to be unarmed except for the borrowed sword, he knew she wasn’t.  In addition to her hidden wrist blades, he suspected she carried small knives and other deadly implements hidden on her person.  

               They stood across from each other, waiting for the other to act first.  His curiosity overriding his patience, he swung towards her left side.  She side-stepped to avoid the attack with ease.  He thrust and she blocked with an effortless sweep. Back and forth it went.  He attacked, she blocked.  He realized after the first few rounds that she was feeling him out, trying to figure out if he had a certain style of fighting he favored. He increased the pace of his attacks. He swung high, forcing her to employ a high block. He stepped close, bringing his hook down and across, aiming for her stomach.  Much to his surprise, Swan stepped into the attack.  She forced his sword arm back with a powerful push and then spun under her extended arm.  The blade on her left wrist caught his hook as she turned, pulling him to his left and into her spin.  Of center and not expecting such a move, he soon found himself coughing hard from an elbow to the ribs.  

               He didn’t have time to catch his breath before Swan attacked, her sword going high while her wrist blade aimed for his chest. He smirked, thrilled that she was finally on the offensive.  The duel continued for some 10 or 15 more minutes before a lucky block with his hook allowed him to twist the sword from Swan’s hand.  She barely reacted before taking advantage of a gap he’d left in his guard and stepping close enough to him that he could feel her breath on his chest. The smell of roses teased his nose. His sword was useless with her this close.  He tried to step back, but her right arm twisted around his left, holding him close. She smiled as she brought her left arm up and pressed the point of her blade to his throat.

               Knowing he was beaten, he released the grip on his sword and allowed it to drop to the deck, surrendering.  Cheers went up around them, his crew having gathered to watch the spectacle they had put on.  Swan stepped back and he instantly missed the feel of her pressed against his chest. He picked up his sword and returned it to the sheath at his hip.

               “Thank you, Captain.  That was a nice change of pace.” She smiled.

               He smiled back, and said, sincerely, “Anytime love. Anytime.”

                                                        ----

               Back in his cabin, Killian leaned against the frame of the door, hand scrambling to undo the front of his trousers.  He moaned as the pressure released and he could take himself in hand.  A fight always got his blood pumping, but not like this.  He was harder than he had been in a long while and he hoped that no one on his crew, or Swan, had noticed.  

               The lovely Miss Swan.  He closed his eyes and pictured her as she had been at the end of their duel.  Sweat had begun to cause the loose tendrils of her golden hair to stick to her skin. Her eyes had been aglow, pleased with her victory.  A lone drop of sweat slid down her neck and into the valley of her breasts, at which he’d gotten a peek  when they’d been chest to chest at the end of their duel.

               He longed to follow that drop’s path with his tongue, to taste the salt of her skin.  To delve between her breasts and feel their softness against his face.  He wanted to release them from the confines of whatever undergarments she wore and tease her nipples with hand, hook, and tongue.

               Then he would venture lower, tasting every inch of skin he could reach.  Then lower still, to the treasure hidden between her legs.  She would taste sweet, his golden warrior goddess, he was sure. He would devour her essence and bring her release again and again.  Only after she was satisfied would he seek his own completion.  To sheath his cock in her warm, tight quim would be pure bliss. He’d thrust hard, enjoying the way it would cause her breasts to bounce, while his hand rubbed her clit to bring her off one more time.  The way she would squeeze his cock as she came for a final time would be the end of him, he was sure.

               Killian bit back his moan as he came, his seed shooting onto the floor.  He sagged against the wall, barely able to keep himself upright now that he had released his built up tension.  Once he caught his breathe he stripped off his trousers and shirt and cleaned himself with a damp cloth.  He dressed in fresh clothes after his quick wash, but he swore he could still smell the scent of roses.

                                                           ----

               Besides Hook and herself, there were 27 other men aboard The Jolly Roger.   Other than Tristan, who thoughtfully continued to make her ginger tea each morning, most of the crew ignored her presence.  At least they did, until after her duel with Hook, because the next morning Emma found herself invited to play cards with Logan and the Wyatt brother’s.  They played one-and-thirty for a bit, which she had experience with before, before they taught her Bone-Ace, a more complicated version of the same game.

               She wasn’t sure if they had hoped she would be an easy mark, well-spoken lady that she was, and thus easy to fleece for a few extra coins but it was her purse that was heavier at the end of the day.  

               The next day Starkey, the quartermaster, offered to show her some pointers on the handling of the cutlass, saying he’d noticed she’s seemed unfamiliar with that sword type during her duel with Hook. Which was true; it was favored only among sailors, so she’d had little need to learn to fight with one, only to defend against it.

                A dam had broken, it seemed, and she spent most of her days practicing new sword techniques, gaming with the crew, and even learning the rudiments of sailing instead of reading or being alone in her cabin, which is what she had expected. She even spent some time with Victor, the ship’s surgeon, ignoring his incessant flirting in hopes of learning some new medical knowledge. 

               Late in the morning, nearly a fortnight after they’d left Alexandria, Emma sparred with Theo, armed only with Starkey’s borrowed cutlass.  The helmsmen was far from an expert swordsman but she struggled to hold her own, so accustomed to relying on her hidden blades and other weapons in a fight.  She misjudged a block and left her right side open to attack, which Theo quickly exploited.  Her ego was saved from another defeat when Hook approached and Theo stopped his attack.

               “Miss Swan, brave enough to join me in the crow’s nest?” He wiggled his eyebrows in challenge.

               Emma looked upward and contemplated the place in questions.  She wasn’t afraid of heights.  Far from it. She did her best thinking perched atop the highest tower of her family’s castle, contemplating the scenery.  But it wasn’t the height of the crow’s nest she found intimidating, it was the climb to get there.

               She’d spent a little time moving about the rigging of The Jolly Roger under the careful eye of the crew as they tried to turn her into a true sailor.  She knew the ropes were strong and well cared for but they still felt flimsy under her hands.  The ships constant rocking also meant that the rarely felt secure even when she had a good grip.  

               She never turned down a challenge, though, so she returned Starkey’s cutlass and followed Hook to the web of ropes, called the shroud, that would get her to the platform that was the ships crow’s nest. Hook hopped up on the rail, making it look effortless, and offered his hand down to her.  She took it and he pulled her up next to him.  The ship rocked before she could grab the rigging and Hook’s arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling into the sea. This brought them cheek to cheek and his scruff tickled her skin.  

               “I’ve got you lass,” Hook whispered in her ear.  The words caused a shiver to go down her spine and she pulled back as soon as she had a grip on the ropes of the shroud.  Hook dropped his arm from around her and started climbing.  He stopped after a few feet and turned his head back toward her, raising an eyebrow.

              Emma took a deep breath and followed, drawing level with Hook.

              “You’re getting the hang of it,” he said with a grin.  

              “Is this really necessary?” Emma asked.

              “Trust me love, you’ll want to see this.”

              They quickly reached the point where the shroud became too narrow for them to climb together and Hook gestured that she should proceed him upwards.  She did, slowly.  When she reached the end of the shroud, she carefully pulled herself onto the yard that ran below the crow’s nest.  Praying the ship didn’t shift, she stood on the stretch of wood and used her arms to heave herself onto crows nest’s platform.  

              The view that greeted her as she stood was stunning.  She faced towards the stern and she could see the ocean stretched out behind The Jolly Roger.  It appeared to go on forever, except for a strip of land to her left and some islands to her right.  

              “Those islands are called the Chain of Fire and they all have volcanos.  The largest of which is a bit active today,” Hook said as he joined her on the platform.  He handed her his spyglass and pointed to the closest island.

              Through the spyglass she was able to see smoke rising from one of the mountains. Fire spit from its top and lava was running down the side.  It was Mother Nature in action and it was magnificent.

              “Does anyone live there?” Emma asked, watching the liquid fire cause the sea to boil when it met the ocean.  

              “Not on that island, no.  A few villages on those with less active volcanoes.”

              She tensed when she felt an arm on her shoulder, but it was only Hook bracing her as The Jolly Roger crested a powerful wave.

              “Look starboard and the land you see is the Kingdom of Vand.”

              She dropped the spyglass from her eye and turned to look at Hook, who was rubbing his beard with his hand as he studied the coastline in the distance.

              “Usually, I’d take The Jolly around to the other side of the islands and further out to sea when passing this way.  King Eric has no tolerance for piracy and his navy is the best in the realms.  If we are to encounter any naval resistance, it will be over these next few days while we are off the coast of Vand.”

               Emma sobered and handed Hook back his spyglass. As he took it, the metal casing rubbed against her skin and she hissed in pain.  

               “You should have said something lass,” Hook said as he grasped her hands and turned them palm up.  

               She started to protest that it was only some rope burn from the climb up, but the words stuck in her throat as Hook pulled a cloth from around his neck and tied it around her palm.  She stopped breathing altogether when he leaned close and tightened the knot using his teeth.

               “Victor has a poultice that will have this healed in a day or so,” he said, his breath ghosting across her hand.

               “Good. Yes,” Emma blurted.

              “This will make climbing down a bit awkward, though, so we will need to take a different route.”

              Emma blink at that, trying to imagine another way to get down that was different from the way they came up.  Hook smiled a mischievous smile as he reached out and pulled her closer with his hook.

              “I recommend you hold on tight,” he said as he grasped a hanging rope and had it coiled around his forearm with a quick twist.  

              She was about to ask why but Hook took a step forward, off the platform and she only had time to wrap her arms securely around his waist before they were hurtling toward the deck of The Jolly Roger.  The free fall lasted only seconds, but it was exhilarating.  She held back a scream, but just barely.  

              They landed hard and her grip on the Captain was the only reason she didn’t fall onto her ass.  Emma stayed where she was, arms still wrapped around Hook until her heartbeat calmed and she was steady on her feet.

              “You alright there Swan?” Hook asked as he peered down at her.  

              Emma coughed, embarrassed, and pulled away. “Yes, fine, thank you.” 

              Hook reached forward with his hook and pushed some of her escaped hair behind her ear. “That you are, lass.  That you are,” he said softly.

              Emma rolled her eyes and headed to sickbay to see Victor about something for her hands, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach.

                                                        ----

               Three days after he’d shown Swan the erupting volcano from the crow’s nest, Killian was back on the crows nest’s platform, watching the horizon. They hadn’t encountered any large storms on their voyage so far, only a few small squalls, and that had him antsy.  This time of year there usually was a storm threatening the coast every few days. He brought his spyglass to his eye to study a few dark clouds when he spotted what looked like sails instead.  He readjusted his glass to get a better look and cursed when he confirmed that it was, in fact, sails on the horizon.  

              He hoped it was a merchant ship with a stupid captain, ignoring the risks for the sake of a little more gold.  Or King Eric and Queen Ariel themselves, taking a pleasure cruise down their coastline before the storms made it impossible.

               He sighed, knowing he could hope all he wanted but it wouldn’t change the fact that the layout of the sails on the ship tailing them screamed navy.

               “Theo, coax a bit more speed from these sails,” Killian called down.

               “Aye Captain!” His helmsman yelled back.  

               He kept his spyglass on the sails for the better part of an hour.  As The Jolly Roger picked up speed, the size of the sails dwindled, the ship falling behind.  However, soon the sails reappeared as the ship they belonged to increased their speed as well.  This confirmed his fear that they were, in fact, being followed.

               Killian dropped down to the deck and marched to his cabin, yelling “Starkey!” as he pulled out all the charts he had of this area. The quartermaster appeared with a befuddled expression, unused to being summoned in such a brusque manner.

               “We are being followed by what is likely a Vand naval ship.  I would like to avoid a confrontation.”

               Starkey nodded and together they studied the charts, looking for an alternative route that could throw the navy off their tail. It would have been easy any other season, but all the normal routes took them farther out to sea than he liked to be this time of year, even if the storm season was calmer than normal.

               “Starkey, have Theo take us a few leagues further out to sea.  We can only hope they aren’t keen to sail into dangerous waters, even for a prize such as us.”

               “Aye, Captain.”

               After his quartermaster left to convey his orders, Killian flopped into his chair and glared at the charts spread in front of him. The Vand navy had chosen their territory well.  There were no island chains this close to shore for him to sail into to throw them off their tail, no coral reefs only a lightly leaden ship would dare sail.  

               Killian returned above deck and took up watch at the stern of his ship.  The sails were still there and they were getting closer, the ship gaining on them.

               “Smee, fetch me Miss Swan.”

               Killian might be Captain of The Jolly Roger and the final authority on any militaristic action, but Swan was currently his patron, so it would be polite to consult with her before making any drastic decisions that would affect the progress of the voyage.

               Swan joined him at the stern within minutes, saying, “Smee tells me we’re being followed.  Vand navy?”

               “Aye, most likely.” Killian passed her his spyglass so she could get a look.

               “You predicted this could happen.  Do you have a plan?” Swan asked as she brought the spyglass up to her eye.

               “Not one I like.  We can’t evade them.  We are as far out to sea as I dare take The Jolly Roger, and so far, our pursuer shows no sign of falling back.”

               “Can we outrun them?”

               “We’re going as fast as we can, but the winds are not in our favor.” He ran his hand through his hair, agitated.  “Swan, if they choose to engage, we will have no choice but to defend.  However, it may be in our best interests to attack first and use the element of surprise to our advantage.”

               Swan glanced sharply at him, obviously startled by his suggestion.  He rolled his shoulders, trying to release the tension that had built up in his muscles before he continued.

               “The Jolly Roger is not crewed for a sea battle right now, especially one against a fully armed naval ship.  We do not have the numbers to hold them off if they get close enough to board.”

               “So the key is not letting them get close enough, at least not when they are still capable of fighting back,” Swan said, obviously following his thought process.

               Killian nodded and Swan heaved a sigh, clearly unhappy.

               “Captain, I do not want to condone an unprovoked attack on a naval ship.  But if you believe that is our best option, I will not object.” Swan sounded resigned as she spoke, “Just… show mercy, if you are able.  Please.  These men are only doing their job.”

               Killian inclined his head, acknowledging her request. “I’ll do my best. But in the meantime, I recommend you get below, love.  Victor will be thankful for another hand to help with any injuries.”

                                                        ----

               Emma went below deck, her heart feeling heavy as Hook ordered his crew to stations above.  In the 12 years she had been a member of the Brotherhood of Assassins, she’d often had to account for and try to minimize collateral damage on her missions. She wasn’t always successful and sometimes, people who didn’t deserve to die paid the ultimate price for her actions. But never before had she needed to make a decision of this magnitude.  A naval ship could be carry dozens of men and some of those men were going to die because she had prioritized her own mission over their lives.

               But she had to save her son and she was willing to pay any price to do so.  If that price included the lives of innocent sailors, then so be it.  She would accept the consequences once Henry was safe.

               Emma shook herself out of her melancholy thoughts as she approached sickbay.  All Assassins learned basic medical procedures such as cleaning and closing wounds, so she would be of some help in the sickbay once the fight started. Victor was there, making sure each drawer was securely shut and wouldn’t spill precious medicine or supplies onto the deck.  

               “Have you ever been in battle, Miss Swan?” the doctor asked, without preamble.

               “I’ve done my fair share of fighting.  But not at sea, not on a ship.” Emma answered truthfully.

               “Then this will be quite an experience for you,” Victor said as he checked the sharpness of a knife with his thumb. “Most injuries during a sea battle are not from the cannon balls themselves, but from the shards of wood they create when they hit a ship.  I’ve seen men run through by pieces of rail as long as my arm.”

               Emma swallowed and took a calming breathe. She was no stranger to blood and gruesome injuries but the image Victor’s words painted in her head made her feel a little ill.  Victor handed her a simple white apron and she tied it on.  A cannon fired above and the loud boom caused Emma to jump.  The battle had begun.  

Chapter 4