#The Rook and the Hoopoe 🐦‍⬛🐦💛 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aiza-luna · 3 months ago

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ASSASSIN'S CREED SYNDICATE - SANCTITY: Nightly Haunt.

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December 19th, 1888

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Cold.

That's all that she felt, cold. The terrible weather in London that seemed to loom over her. It was December, winter was already at the door... The thick snow covering most of the streets as she returned to her home.

The Estate she ordered the build in 1874, named "Hampton Manor", for the water meadow located in it's proximities. A place of quietude located in Hastings... She wanted to live closer to the sea side, like when she lived in Spain, feeling closer to her home.

As she reached the door, she found... Odd. There was no servant to greet her, and the carriege she came from was gone. She stood alone, in the wintery night... A shiver ran down her spine, but not by the weather.

Something was wrong.

Shaking the feeling, she opened the doors of her house, the wood cracking loudly across the entrance. There was only silence.

No cheerful chatting from the maids, no chandelier and bright lights, or the preparations for the upcoming Christmas. Only... Silence. And a faint light coming from some weak candles.

- Ms. Scotts? Ms. Wilson? Mr. Briggs? - She called loudly, but her only response was dead silence.

Something was really wrong.

She walked a bit further across the entrance, but she stopped as she felt her boots stomp over something... Wet.

The soft sound of liquid moving and dropping echoed, making her frown.

- Pero lo que és es... - The Spaniard murmured in confusion, stopping mid-sentence, reaching out for one of the lit candles, grabbing the holder.

She placed it near the puddle she stepped over... To her horror. It wasn't water.

It was blood.

Her expression grew to shock, her heart sinking to her chest as her instincts went sky-high. Someone had entered her house, and killed one of her staff.

Her thoughts were running in miles per hour, her heartbeat rising... How could that happened?!

She light up around the puddle, spotting a cold pale hand flat across the floor... Ms. Carter, one of the oldest maids in the house. The woman was brutally murdered, her maid dress torn apart, her chest opened as her organs were spreas around her body.

Her eyes stared at the grotesque display in front of her. She wasn't a stranger to death, but seeing a friend in such gruesome state... It filled her with revolt. Sheer anger and worry for what else happened in her house.

She started to walk over the house, stopping more bloody puddles as she walk, the very floors of her beloved mansion painted in crimson. She refused to look at the bodies, for now... She had to discover who did such animalistic attack against her staff.

That's when she noticed the staircase... A bloody trail tainted the blue carpet that was placed on it. The Assassin walked up in light and silence steps, holding the candle holder firmly on her hand.

Silently following the trail, with only the sound of the wind outside, she stopped when she realized the trail continue, down the hallway. A goosebump ran over her spine. That's wasn't good.

She continued after a deep breath, following the macabre trail... Until she froze, her pulse accelarating once more and her body turning cold.

That was her Children's Playroom. Her free hand trembled as she reached for the door knob, the creek of the wood was almost deafining...

... The room was pitch black dark, with no light turned on. She held her breath as she turned on the light bulb... And felt her heart sink down her stomach.

There was blood everywhere. On the wallpapers, on the toys, on the floor... A carnage spread for any poor soul that entered to witness. On the floor, layed four petit bodies, covered in white sheets, soaked red with blood, only their feet visible.

She felt the tears pouring down her cheeks as she rushed towards the bodies, sobbing loudly as she touched them over the cover. Cold. Dead cold... Her white gloves becoming stainted as well, but she didn't care.

A aching pain ripped across her whole being... She wanted to scream, to cry, to yell until the air was gone from her lungs. She wanted to tear her own flesh, to sink her fingers on her body to make the pain in her being more bearable.

Her children, her beloved children... No Mother could stand what she was witnessing.

- Alyssa... James... Miranda... Leo... - She murmured, as she cuppered the face of the last body, her youngest son, Leonardo, over the sheet. - Perdóname.., Ay mis amores, Perdóname... - The Assassin pleaded quietly in a thin voice, broken and filled with hopelessness, as she lowered her head and let the tears flow down.

- What a lovely family reunion! - A new voice said, breaking the mouring of the Spaniard, who quickly reacted. Turning to face the new arrival, her eyes wided when she saw who it was.

The young man with light brown hair and and blue eyes, wearing a dark cloack and coat, his physic towering over hers considerally.

- Jack...? - She murmured in desbelief. The orphan Jacob took under his wing, long ago. Jack Cohen, a poor boy from a family of Jewish-Polish immigrants, that ended up in an Asylum, being freed after the downfall of Crawford Starrick and took by her husband.

She knew that boy since he entered in their lives. He witnessed the birth of her children, she tried to look for him and understand him, like a mother. And now...

- You... - She murmured, her expression shifting. -... It's was you?! - The Spaniard groaned, anger building up whitin her, ready to explode.

- A masterful piece, wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Frye? - The man replied, smirking as she held the knife, caressing the tip of it with his finger. - This is what the Assassins are! The true potential of the Creed! - He exclaimed, opening his arms.

She clentched her teeth. How dared him?!

- This is not the Creed, you monster!! This is your twisted delirium!! - The Assassin stood up, pointing her blooded glove towards the killer, her eyes filled with rage. - ¡Eres un demonio! ¡¡Un demonio que entró en nuestras vidas y las convirtió en un infierno!! - Solange screamed in anger, but Jack didn't fazed, or stopped smiling.

- Strong words, coming from a woman, my Lady... - He mused darkly, his eyes filled with a sadistic glee. - I'm not sure Jacob is being very fond of your language. - The Ripper continued, pointing his blade to a corner of the room.

She didn't saw it when she entered... She could swear that part was empty. But now, it was her worst nightmare. Sitting in the swinging chair in the room, the same chair she spend nights breastfeeding and singing her children to sleep... Was now covered in blood.

Jacob was sitting there. His eye swallowed, his face bleeding and his Master Assassin uniform torn brutally. His chest was open, his guts falling over his lap, as his other organs were spread on his feet, followed by his hands and Assassin Gauntlet, his heart... Was right under her feet.

Solange let out an horrorfied gasp, one of her hands covering her mouth. He wasn't covered like their children... He was left to the naked eye to see, like a grim taunt towards her.

- JACOB!! - She cried instinctively, running towards him, almost slipping over the pool of blood. She leaned towards him, her hands shaking as she cuppered his face... His cheeks were ice cold, his skin pale with purple bruises, and his eyes... Oh God, his eyes.

Milky, opaque... Lifeless. His hazel-green eyes didn't greet her with his typical glow of joy and love, but only mirroring her reflection in an empty gaze, a dead stare. She let out a loud sob.

- Jacob, mi amor... - The Assassin murmured in another hipccup... Why? Why did this happened?! Why them?! Why not her?! - Mi amor, perdóname... Por favor... - She pleaded silently, hugging what was now her husband's corpse.

The Ripper did nothing but soft chuckle at the display in front of him. That made the Spanish Assassin rage. The Creed, her composion, everything was second-handed. She wanted him to pay for ever entering in her life.

- ¡¡MALDITO!! - She screamed at the top of her lungs, withdrawing her hidden blades, she charged towards him, pressing him up against the wall. As she would strike, he headbutt her, dizzing her briefly, before strincking a blow with his arm.

She stepped back, defending from another kick, but as she attack, her punch was blocked, and she got kicked in the stomach. The younger man didn't losted time and pinned her down with his body weight, the Assassin held his arm back, kicking his abdomen and rolling over him, moving one of her arms, but he quickly moved to grab her neck, pinning her down once more.

- Don't worry, Mrs. Frye. - He grumbled sadistically. - I'll make sure you go after your husband and children. After all, you have already left them alone with me, right? - Jack teased in a hiss, watching the Assassin gasp for air under him.

He raised his blade, aiming towards her forehead.

- Welcome them in the death, Lady Cotoner... And have a nice family reunion. - He commanded in a excited tone, his eyes filled with a maniacal glow.

That was the last thing she saw, before everything went black...

... Solange gasped out in panic, her body rising in a jolted motion. Her face was sweaty and her eyes filled with panik. She blinked a few times, adjusting with the lack of light in her bedroom... Only the moon illuminated her place.

Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a soft snort. As she turned to see her side, she saw a figure she immediatly recognized: Jacob.

Her husband was deep asleep, bandaged as his wounds healed in a slow but assured pace. The now trademarked eyepatch over his left eyes as he layed against the pillow.

His hair messy and the bedsheets over him. She let out a deep relieved sigh, placing a hand over her chest.

Smiling silently, she moved one of her hands to touch his hair, gently moving his bangs off his face... She sweetly caressed his brown hair, a few strings of gray hair appearing, a sign of his stress during the Autumn of Terror.

He was there. With her. By her side, on their bed...

... Everything was fine.

That was just a nightmare.

Jack was dead, unable to do anymore harm to him or their family... But that wasn't because of her, but because of Evie.

It was only Evie, because she wasn't there.

It was Evie... Not her, that ended that nightmare.

She failed. She failed to protect them.

The Spaniard bit her lips, exhaling through her nose. She sitted on the bed for a few moments, contemplating everything... The mission on Morocco was sucessful. They managed to calm the tensions between Spain and Morocco, she herself had audiances with Hassan I of Morocco, discussing not only regarding to the Spanish influence on the country, but also about the slave trade still practiced within the nation.

Yet, still... All of this came with the cost of leaving her husband behind. Leave her young children behind. God and all Saints be praised for Caroline's good heart in keeping her children safe in Crawley.

But she only did so because she wasn't there to protect them, like a mother should... And that hurted. More than any stab or bullet she took while in Morocco, aiding the local Brotherhood.

With a soft sigh, the Countess got off the bed and silently walked towards the door to the balcony. Opening it, revealed her the chilly winter air, which made her shiver instantly, her night gown softly blowing along the breeze.

No matter how many years passed, she could never get used to the cold. Prefering the warmer mediterrenean weather of her homeland. Still, the fresh air of the woods surrounding the manor brought her a bit of comfort... It matched the coldness and guilty that was chilling all over her soul.

She stood there, near the balcony railing, feeling the cold of the wintery night for minutes, her gaze lost in the darkness.

- I thought you were a Hoopoe, Sunshine, not an Owl. - A male raspy and tired voice chimmed, breaking the dead silence of the moment, making her turn around.

Her husband stood there, on his night shirt, holding a candelabrum in his hand. His gaze curious and sleepy, as he watched her.

- Jacob... - She stated quietly, knowing the hour and the state he was in. -... Perdóname, cariño, ¿te desperté? - Solange inquired gently, moving her hands away from the balcony railings.

- You didn't, the bed just felt empty without you. - He replied in a soft tone, walking closer to her. - Sol, sweetheart, is everything alright? - Jacob asked, recognizing the look of sadness on his wife's face.

- I'm fine. - She replied calmly, flashing a small smile. - I just... Needed air. - The Spanish Lady murmured, looking back into the dark woods.

Jacob rose an eyebrow, visibly not buying her words. A look for concern still present on his features.

- I didn't knew people need to take a blow of winter air on their faces at late night when they don't sleep. - He replied with a bit of sarcasm, Solange smiled a bit more... Even after all those years, he was still as sharp as ever.

- I'll take you don't believe me, right? - She inquired rhetorically, he smiled.

- Not for a moment, love. - Jacob affirmed, Solange shook her head amused, but his smile flatted as he continued to watch her. - Solange, darling, we have been through this... Please tell me what's wrong. - He pleaded gently, reaching out his hand on hers.

Solange looked at him, her honey-brown eyes filled with a mix of emotions. Fear, embarassment, hesitation, worry... Everything a confusion mess on her orbs.

- I... Had a nightmare. - She admitted. God, that sounded so silly out loud. Almost like she was a scared child confessing to their parent.

Jacob looked at her puzzled.

- A nightmare? - He repeated, before he realized what she was implying, his expression softning but still had a worried gaze with his hazel-green eye. - Love... Are you still thinking about it? - He wondered gently, already knowing the awnser.

- There isn't a day I'm not thinking about it, Jacob. - Solange replied, her tone quiet and guilty. - If only I was here with you, if only I was here to protect the children... I left you alone with that psicópata, what type of wife am I? What type of mother am I? - The brunette started to murmur with a heavy voice, her grip on his hand tightning slightly.

Jacob moved to her side, looking at her gently. - A wonderful wife and mother, and a wonderful Master Assassin. - He replied with kindness and conviction. - You had to do a mission, it was you duty. - The British said, trying to give her some reassurance.

- I know. - She argued. - But that mission costed my presence here. It cost my presence when my family needed me the most. - Solange said, visibly frustrated with the situation.

- Solange, it's over. - Jacob said, frowning in worry at his wife's constant repetition of what happened. - Jack is dead, the children are safe. The Moroccan Brotherhood needed you and your apprentices from Barcelona. - He continued.

Solange looked at him, moving her free hand to his face, gently caressing his cheek, over to the eyepatch he worn on his left eye. It broke her heart to know Jack, that maldito beated him until his eye was swallowed... It hurted not seeing both his hazel-green eyes sparkling joyfully at her.

- I'll never forgive myself for leaving, Jacob... Not when you needed me. - She confessed in a whisper. - I failed you... Lo siento mucho... - The Spaniard pleaded in a thin voice. Her honey-brown eyes carried all the misery and tiredness that her own blame brought upon her.

Jacob's expression dropped to one of pain and empathy. Even after all this years, Solange was still the same: Keeping blaming herself in silence, dwelling on the guilt of her choices until it chocked her alive. He hated that, he hated watching her trying to take the weight of the world on her shoulders because of her sense of duty, as a wife and as an Assassin.

The Gang Leader slowly moved his arm around her, bringing her closer to him in a hug, his other hand still holding the candelabrum.

- Sol, my darling... - He started, his voice gentle but firm. -... You didn't failed me, and you didn't failed our family. We didn't knew what Jack would have become... And what would he do. - the patriarch murmured, his tone filled with sorrow and resignation over his apprentice's death.

- I don't want you to blame yourself for not being prepared for what we didn't knew. - He affirmed softly, feeling her grip on his nightshirt tightning briefly. - I don't hold that against you, neither do the children... So don't do this for us. - Jacob concluded, hugging her tighter.

They stood like that for a few minutes, despite the coldness of the night, their warmth protected and comforted one another.

-... Gracias mi amor. - Solange said in a quiet and soft tone, slowly looking up at him. -... Gracias por todo. - She continued, giving a soft kiss on his eyepatch, making Jacob smiled.

- You're welcome, mí amor. - He replied lovingly, caressing her cheek with his thumb in a soothing manner, his british accent heavy as he spoke in her mother-tongue. - Now, let's go inside and you tell me about that nightmare... - Jacob started, moving her gently towards inside the room.

- That won't be needed, Jacob... - Solange tried to argue, but her only awnser from him was a smirk.

- Of course it is! I wouldn't allow a nightmare to be in the way of my wife's sleep. I'll chase it off myself, if I need to. - He replied in a more playful manner.

The Spanish Noblewoman couldn't help but smile, it was just like in the first years they have met... His humor and witty never faded, only calmed with time.

- I know you will, mi grajo tonto... - The brunette returned in a tender but playful tone, resting her head on his shoulder.

She may never forgive herself, but she knew that her Rook would always have his Hoopoe by his side, from now on, that was a promise she made for herself. They were two birds that would never leave each other.

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FINALLY.

I FINALLY DID ANOTHER JACOB x SOLANGE DRABBLE!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳

Recently I have been seeing a lot of stuff about the Jack the Ripper DLC and it inspired me to work on this little scene! 🫶🏽

I really wanted to work on this since, unlike most OCs in the Fandom I saw, Solange was not witnessing the Autumn of Terror, instead, she was in Morocco, aiding the local Brotherhood in the amids of political tension with her country. (She is still a member of the Spanish Brotherhood afterall), so this lack of participation when her family needed the most took a tool on her, and I wanted to portray this guilt she would feel. 😔🥲

(This is also my way to explain why Ubisoft didn't made Jacob's wife appear in the DLC, although we all know is because they didn't wanted to give Jacob a Canon love interest.)

Although is not mentioned in the fic, their oldest son Emmett was in a mission in Wales, hence why he was also not in London when Jack started his reign of chaos. The only children mentioned (Alyssa, James, Miranda and Leonardo) are their youngest children, all still kids at that time.

Caroline is a character from "ACS: Sanctity", she is a maid in the Standford Estate and Solange's best friend when she arrived in London. In 1888, she is the Frye Family's Governess and Tutor, she was send to Crawley to watch over the children by Jacob, who feared Jack would try to hunt them down in Hastings. (Where their main house/ estate was located and Jack knew about)

I'm really proud of how this scene turned out! I wanted to show more of Sol and Jacob as a married couple, after all the events of my fic 🥹

I really hope I manage to give a taste of what their relationship ended up like, middle-aged Solob has my heart 🫶🏽

Well, that's all for now! Hope you all enjoy it! 🩵

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Solange Teresa Vivianne Cotoner-Frye by @aiza-luna

Jacob Frye by Ubisoft

Caroline Mason, Alyssa Esperanza Frye-Cotoner, James Sebastián Frye-Cotoner, Miranda Christine Frye-Cotoner, Leonardo Theodore Frye-Cotoner by @aiza-luna

Cover Editing by _We.are.Assassin_

Writting by @aiza-luna

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