#the Starrick-Frye Bunch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nemo-of-house-hamartia · 3 years ago

Text

In the Heat of the Moment

Chapter 2- Echoes of The Past

Ch.1 Word count: 6982 Warnings: None.

London, 15th January 1909

The damp air of the morning was so chilling, Gabriel could feel it nipping directly at his bones, pinching his cheeks almost in the same way Aunt Evie used to do when he was a child. Now that Winter was truly beginning, encompassing all the land with its mantle, the weather had started to change once more, with its sharp winds and flurries of snow.

Shivering as he walked down one busy street in the City, the youngest Frye tightened the silver and green scarf around his neck, one of the many gifts he had received for Christmas...one his mother had knitted herself for him. He gritted his teeth, uneasiness stirring in him at the thought.

After the discovery he had made, Gabriel had avoided her as much as he could while staying at the Manor, adducing the excuse of his own lone nature; for the first time in his life, he was unsure on what to say or do, but more than anything, he was terrified of what might happen if he were to let his mouth run free and pour out all his doubts.

He needed time to gather more evidence, more information.

He had observed her from afar, studying her with keen eyes as he would have done with one of the riddles his father always proposed to him. He almost expected her to grow a second head overnight, to suddenly drop a mask and become someone else entirely.

But nothing had happened.

She was always the petite, gentle lady that raised him and loved him from the first breath he had taken, always looking at him with those adoring, proud eyes, the same loving look he always remembered her having whenever she stared at him, ‘her sweet, inquisitive angel’.

Gabriel sighed, the uneasiness in his chest stirring once again its head like a wolf smelling blood.

He felt so confused.

Maybe Emmett was right.

Maybe that daguerreotype truly was nothing more than something from his mother's past as an Opera singer, and the cross was only a memento from one of Father’s many missions when he was his age.

Gabriel stopped in his tracks and took the small pendant out of his pocket, bringing it to the level of his eyes: he had stared at it for hours, that cursed little object that seemed so unimpressive at first glance, but that instead had managed to shake his own world like the mightiest of earthquakes.

He had never experienced anything like that before, in all of his life, curiosity and fear dancing together in his heart in a deadly waltz where neither should ever overtake the other.

He sighed, as he pocketed the small object and reprised his walk with a quicker pace than before.

Out of everything that had happened on Christmas Day, the way his father had reacted when he had seen the cross wouldn’t leave him alone: the way the colour had drained from his face, how quick he was to dismiss and hide the photo; and then, he thought dejected, there had been the look he had exchanged with Emmett, a look of pain and sorrow so great, Gabriel couldn’t wrap his head around it. It had been impossibly heartbreaking to see, his older brother and his beloved father sharing the same mask of sufferance, the same dejectedness, the same woe.

What had caused it? What was the reason for such torment?

There was more to it, so much more, and Gabriel knew that. He could feel it in his soul. And he had to find the answers to those questions that didn’t want to leave him alone.

He had to.

Fortunately, New Year's day had come and gone, bringing all the festivities away with it, and he could finally allow himself to focus once again on his research.

"And about bloody time," Gabriel thought, as he turned into the small lane that would lead him back to his childhood home. “If I had to go for another round of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’, I would have rioted,"

After finding the Templar Cross, Gabriel had tried another attempt to scour throughout the Manor to find more evidence connected to the necklace and his mother. To his dismay, all that he had managed to collect had disappeared, and the doors of his mother's private studio and library had been barred from entering.

Finding himself locked out, the young Frye had been glad to be alone because, he was sure, the profanity that had left his mouth would have made even his own foul-mouthed twin’s hair go white.

Without getting discouraged, he had waited until all the family was busy taking a walk down at the inlet before sneaking inside his father's workshop to find what he needed to get past those doors. He was confident that all the years spent learning to pick locks under his sire's tutelage would finally pay off.

It was only after spending more than 15 minutes of trial and failing that he had realized that the very father who taught him how to enter doors had been the one to render them inaccessible.

Grumbling, he had sat in front of the studio, glaring at it as if he could open it by will alone.

He was stubborn enough that it could have even worked.

As a last resource, Gabriel had even thought about asking for Emmett's help, but decided against it in the end. He didn’t want him to know that he was still researching about their mother.

It was impossible to look around the old Manor without raising suspicions of any kind. So, at least for his stay at his ancestral home, he had decided to stop speaking about what he had found, feigning as much enthusiasm for the festivities as his soured mood had allowed.

‘Hopefully, this time around I will have more luck,’ he thought, drifting away from his thoughts, as he took in the view around him, so familiar, and yet not the same as the one in his vivid memory.

With a sad smile, he noticed how the street had changed: where once there were horse-drawn carriages, now shiny black cars were parked beside the pavement in their place.

A chuckle found its way on his lips when he thought about his father’s constant grumbling each time Gabriel or Uriel drove him around, about how the old carriages were just fine and the horses much nicer, and how, in the old days, he could actually go faster on a carriage with horses than on those blasted, hiccupy, noisy contraptions.

‘I get you, Pa,’ the young Frye thought, sniggling. ‘I don’t like them either.’

As he kept walking down the street, Gabriel passed past an apothecary that hadn’t been there the previous year. It stood in the place of the confectionery shop where his father and siblings would always stop whenever they all went for a walk. Ghosts danced in front of his eyes, as clear as a sunny day, as he thought about all the times his father had scooped him up in his strong arms, to allow him to see all the sweets and treats on display, and had him pick whatever he wanted to his hearts' content, for both himself, his siblings and his mother.

‘But don’t gobble them up all at once, or you’ll give yourself a bellyache,’ he remembered his father telling him, his only remaining eye twinkling with amusement, his grin wide and warm.

Gabriel felt his heart clenching at those memories.

Those were better times, simpler times, when happiness could be found in just the smallest of gestures and when all he had to do was to rely on his parents, his trust in them absolute.

And now, he thought with regret, that very trust might be taken away from him forever.

He clenched his jaw, involuntarily: how could he face them, if he were to discover something that would make him question everything?

Gabriel, per his nature, believed in only a handful of certainties in life, and his parents, their teaching, and their immense love for all their children were one of them.

He stopped in his tracks, once more uncertain: was he ready to face the consequences of his curiosity?

Eva was right.

This was a Pandora Box, and one of gargantuan proportions.

Part of him wanted to pretend that he hadn’t discovered what he did, to just forget everything and dive back into his books and his writings, where everything was always orderly and certain.

But the biggest part of him, the one that, according to Uriel, always put him into trouble, wanted to uncover the whole story.

He wanted to see past that veil of half-hidden truths.

As he finally arrived in front of a two-story brick house where their small flat still was, he took a deep breath as he let his eyes wander once more around taking in all that he saw: The building itself hadn’t changed that much on the outside, with its stout front and the dark bricks, but Gabriel knew that once passed the front door, things would not be as they had been in his childhood. He would not find sweet Nana Ether, the old lady that used to live next door and had helped all of them when his father and mother were indisposed, or young Eliah and Elizabeth, the orphaned children that lived with Nana because both their parents had succumbed to the brutality of the workhouses; As far as he knew, Nana was long gone and the children had moved away.

Now this is one of the hideouts for Emmett and Father’s gang, and only members of the Rooks live here, he thought, as he looked at the coming and going of people wearing loud green jackets and gaudy yellow sashes at their waists and arms.

Melancholy gripped at his soul with a merciless grasp that menaced to make his heart burst.

How many times he and his siblings had played together in the streets below? Played tag with each other? Or hide-and-seek for hours and hours, oblivious of the time passing, until their father’s booming voice would call for all of them, his little ducklings, to come back because dinner was ready? How many times had he heard his mother playing the violin for them, when they brought all their chairs outside during summertime, to play musical chairs together with their neighbours, his father running around with them, carrying Sweet Robin, Gabriel’s older brother, deaf by birth, so that he too could play with his siblings?

“Enough with reminiscing, Gabriel. You have work to do,” the young Frye reprimanded himself, brushing a single traitor tear from his eyes with a swift gesture, clearing his throat in an attempt to unravel the knot that had formed there.

He squared his shoulders once again and smoothed his black coat as he approached the steps, mindful to not make eye contact for too long with the Rooks coming and going from the house, lest they would stop him for a small chat.

God only knew how much he abhorred small talks.

“Well, well well...If it isn’t Mr. Sniffy himself, come to poke around the slums!” he heard a velvety yet taunting voice call for him.

Gabriel had to contain a snort.

Splendid, he thought, turning his eyes to look at where the voice had come. Sitting on the windowsill of the first-floor window, legs hanging and swinging, he saw Lily, his older sister, calling for him with her usual sardonic smile painted on her face. As he looked upon her, Gabriel couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of uneasiness in his gut: if it wasn’t for her hazel eyes and darker hair, she could have been the doppelganger of their mother.

“What are you doing here, Lils?” he asked, despite knowing the answer, as he crossed his arms against his chest.

“What a question! I’m working here, of course,” she snorted, leaping down and landing on the pavement with loud feet.

“Not so stealthy for an Assassin, I must say, dear sister,” Gabriel sneered. “Should work on that landing. Even Beethoven heard you,”

Lily’s gaze lit up in amusement, her lips twitching.

“If I wanted to be, you wouldn’t have even realized where I was,” she answered, lifting her chin up with a smirk. “B’sides, it’s so rare to see you wandering around here that I wanted to greet my baby brother properly,”

“Greet me? How did you even know I was coming?”

She leaned toward him, with a conspiratory look in her hazel eyes. When she spoke, her voice was a murmur.

“Through the power of the Lady of the Lake and Excalibur, all the way from Tir Na N'Og, naturally,”

Gabriel had to do all in his power not to roll his eyes: once - ONCE - in his life, he had asked his mother if the golden eyes his father possessed came from the power of the Island of Avalon, asking her, begging with all the force his tiny voice had, to be brought to the island so that he as well could have those eyes.

Lily had been present too, and had barely been able to contain her mirth.

Even to that day, almost a decade later, he could still hear his sister’s high-pitched, almost hysterical laughter ringing in his ears. He had learned quite swiftly not to ask any question when his older sister was around.

“Seriously, Lils, when will you let this go? I was ten!” he grumbled, feeling his cheeks warming up at the memory. “And I think you meant 'Tintagel'; The Lady of The Lake and Tir Na N’Og do not belong to the same cycle of legends! Had you listened more to Mother instead of being too busy running around and stabbing people with that punch you have at your wrist, you would know,”

She shrugged, smiling her sardonic smile.

“Never been one to care about legends or flight of fancies, baby brother. I’d rather have my own fun here among the breathing people, than with those books you’re so passionate about,” she answered, with an earnest voice. She tilted her head to the side, crossing her arms against her chest, as her dark eyes now bore intently into his. “Let’s talk about more pressing matters: what are you doing here? You never meddle with us Rooks or with anything concerning the Brotherhood and I can wager that you haven’t come here to spend some quality time with me. So, what is it, Briel?”

Gabriel fluttered his long dark eyelashes, feigning ignorance.

"Must I have a reason to come here and take a look at our old house?"

“You never do anything without a reason. I’ve known you since your first breath! You’re after something. What is it, this time? A manuscript?” Lily asked.

Gabriel pursed his lips, turning his eyes to the ground.

“I need to retrieve some pictures, letters, and old books,” he lied through gritted teeth. He didn’t like lying. But he liked people snooping into his business even less. And he knew his sister was a church-bell.

Lily’s eyes lit up with amusement.

“Oh! I see now! You are here to look for Emmett’s private collection of lewd lithography and erotic novels?” She chortled, unable to suppress a smirk. “Why, Briel, I never thought you were interested in such ‘profane’ topics! Some lady genteel got your spirit boiling, eh?“

“What? No! Th-that’s preposterous!” he sputtered, blushing to the tip of his nose. “For Goodness’ sake, Lily! Mind your mouth! What would Mother think if she were to hear you talking about this so openly?”

“There are six of us around, Briel! I don’t think she would care that much, considering she probably knows more than you regarding the topic,” Lily giggled.

Horrified, Gabriel had to fight the impulse of bringing his hands on his ears.

“Oh God above, Lily, shut up! Leave our parents and their bedroom’s life out of this conversation! I do not care to hear ANYTHING about this!”

The young woman laughed even louder the more Gabriel’s face turned a vivid purplish hue.

“Always so easy to embarrass, baby brother, an example of an innocent soul. I wouldn’t be surprised if you truly believed that children were found under cabbages,”

Gabriel shot her the most indignant look he could muster, trying to ignore his burning cheeks.

“If you don’t have anything better to do but to embarrass me and mock me like this, I shall be on my way! Good day to you!” he snarked, tilting his chin up as he tried to retrieve whatever semblance of dignity he still had before crossing the threshold of the brick house.

But Lily followed suit, her laughter still reverberating in the air of the small entrance.

“Wait, Briel, I was just fooling around. Don’t be crossed with me!”

“You should find something more recreational to do, instead of being so juvenile,” he grumbled, pulling the scarf up to cover his cheeks. “Maybe you should consider the idea of getting married. It would do you some good and you would start pestering your own husband, instead,”

The woman rolled her eyes, grimacing. “Ugh, Marriage. Not something in my chords. I love my freedom and my maiden name too much to give them up for some man. Can you imagine me in a world of pots and pans and children?”

“I can, but all I can see are those pots and pans on fire, the children running around like wild cats, and the whole kitchen ablaze. You would be able to burn water,”

“Oh, shush,” she chuckled, nudging his arm. “Or next time, I’ll put raisins in all your biscuits, instead of chocolate,”

“I dare you to try,” Gabriel murmured, finally chuckling back.

“Oh, is that a smile that I see on your face? Goodness, I need to call Mother and tell her that His Royal Grumpiness has blessed me with a grin! Oh! Does that mean that a snowstorm will come as well? I need to alert my men!”

Gabriel snorted and rolled his eyes.

“You are absolutely irrepressible,”.

“Alas, it’s a gift I am burdened with,” Lily said, giving him her warmest smile.

He returned that smile to its fullest.

He and Lily didn’t see eye to eye, their personality clashing more often than not, but he knew that, deep down, whenever she wasn’t too busy making him blush with improper jokes, his older sister truly cared about him.

As he walked up the stairs, he looked around, to take in all the differences while greeting the other members of the gang with a curt nod, trying as much as he could to think about where to start to look for what he needed.

“Lily..has anyone come here recently? Emmett? or Father, perhaps?” he asked casually, turning to look at her. He saw her raising her eyes to the sky, wrinkling her nose as she tried to recall.

“Not that I can remember. The last time anyone was here was before All Saints day. Father...well, you know, these days he is not too keen to be in London; as for Em, he usually prefers to station at the hideout in Westminster,"

“Of course,” he said softly, as sadness painted on his face, “Emmett would always choose the hideout closest to home: he would never miss a bedtime story with the children,”

Lily nodded, sharing the same melancholy, the same grief.

“I cannot blame him, after what happened to Margareth,” she murmured, her voice cracking with pain. “May God in His mercy always lend her grace. She was too good for this world,”

Gabriel turned to look toward his sister and sighed when he saw her clenching her jaw, her eyes drawn to the floor, staring at the wood with an intensity he rarely saw on her jovial, sardonic face. Margareth hadn’t been just Emmett’s wife, but also Lily’s best friend and a second mother to both Gabriel and Uriel. He still remembered the young woman tucking him in bed, and reading him some of his favourite stories, whenever his own mother was unable to, busy as she was to assist Father during his ailments or she herself was too sick to even get up from her bed.

He hesitated for one brief moment, before brushing his sister’s arm with kindness, smiling softly at her.

“I miss her too,” he murmured.

His sister’s lips stretched in return, but she didn’t answer, as she always did whenever Margareth came up in conversation.

They resumed climbing the stairs, both keeping their silence, talking only to greet whoever was coming from the upper floors, as they made their way to their old flat.

Once they arrived, Gabriel stopped in his tracks, looking toward the heavy dark door that stood in front of him: it still had the heavy locks his father had installed on it, so many years before.

For a moment, he felt his heart falter, and courage abandon him again.

He closed his eyes, a shaky breath leaving his lips as his hands played with the keys in his pocket, in an effort to calm himself. He didn’t know what he would find there if anything at all. But something deep within his soul told him that something was there, waiting just to be uncovered.

He heard Eva’s words once more resonating in his ears.

A Pandora Box.

All he could see behind his closed lids was his beautiful, loving family, united and whole and happy.

He didn’t want that to change. He hated changes with a passion.

But the call for the truth was stronger than anything else.

And he knew that, if he were to not pursue it, that daguerreotype and that cross would follow him as the Bronze Horseman did with Evgenii in Pushkin’s poem, chasing him until they would annihilate his spirit.

When he opened his eyes again, a flame was burning within them.

He would find the truth. No matter the cost.

He unlocked the door, and after another deep breath, he opened it.

Robin’s delicate watercolors, still hanging on the walls, were the first thing to welcome him back; as he turned his head, he saw the children’s room, with its abandoned wooden toys -their toys- neatly stuck in a corner, Uriel’s old wooden horse on wheels -one that his father had carved for him- and piles above piles of old books, papers, some plants still alive - by the Grace of God, most certainly - and the old kitchen where his mother would always be found in those early mornings when she made breakfast for all of them. Pots and pans were still hanging on the wall, unused for years, forgotten there.

"It's...surprisingly clean," he said, looking around."Well, chaotic, but as clean as an unused apartment here could be anyway,"

"We always have someone coming every week to take off the dust and keep the vermins away,"

"Mmh," he hummed. "Whose idea was this?"

"Emmett’s. Although it has been a while since the last time he came to inspect the place in person,”

Gabriel listened intently to Lily, while his eyes scoured around the room, as keen as a falcon’s. He soon found what interested him: his father’s studio. He would start from there.

“Well, then, it's useless to stay idle. Time to start investigating.” he finally said, clapping his hands together. “The Game is afoot!”

Lily scoffed, shaking her head with a smirk.

“You’ve read too much Sherlock Holmes,”

“And you, not enough,” he grinned,

“Why read, when I can ask Aunt Evie to tell me all about it directly?”

He shook his head, grimacing, as he started to look around.

“As I said: absolutely irrepressible,”

As both siblings took different parts of the house to search, it took all his willpower not to drown in memories, as flickers of moments long gone passed in front of him.

He could see his father planning something with Emmett, while holding Uriel in his arms; he could hear his mother playing the violin, as she taught some young women that lived in the apartments nearby; he could see Eva sitting down on the worn-out rug as she tried to talk to Robin through the sign language they had created to talk with him, before starting drawing together.

Such warmth sprang in his chest, Gabriel felt overwhelmed by it all, a wave of melancholy washing over him with such strength, it hurt him deep within, as he tried to swallow a lump in his throat.

He felt Lily’s warm, rough hand wrap around his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he heard her ask. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,”

‘A ghost of a Christmas long past,’ he thought, without letting that thought reach his lips.

“I was...remembering,” he murmured, cursing himself for having let through too much. For once, Lily didn’t press for him to give an explanation, and he was grateful for that.

He cleared his voice, tilting his chin and squaring his shoulders, to regain his stoic composure.

“The whole chaos of this place is quite overbearing. It will take ages to find what I need,”

“Do you want my men to help us?”

Freezing on the spot, Gabriel shook his head.

“It..it would be better if it is only us, Lils,” he mumbled. “We do not know what we may find, and I do believe it would be more advisable to let it remain in the family,”

His sister didn’t argue with him; she nodded instead, smiling.

“Yes, I can only imagine what my Rooks would say if we were to find that lewd lithogr-”

“Not. Another. Word. On. That. Matter.” Gabriel hissed through gritted teeth, blushing once more. “Now, if you are done behaving like a child, I’d advise you to take the kitchen and the library, while I take our parents’ room and father’s studio,”

“Yes, Mr. Toplofty,” the young woman mocked with a low chuckle. Gabriel saw that she wanted to joke some more, but gave her a pointed look before turning on his heels and entering the studio.

Not much had changed in that room, if not for how bare it was, without the all the family portraits that once sat on the walls or the top hats his father used to wear, scattered around the room because he and Uriel would always sneak there them to play with them, despite their father’s warning not to touch them.

Gabriel’s eyes went to the small desk that sat underneath the tall window that faced the backyard; he remembered his mother often sitting there at night, whenever his father and Emmett weren’t home and she couldn’t find rest in sleeping until both of them were safe and sound back to her. He could still see a flicker of her past self sitting at the light of a candle, her hand holding her head as she poured words after words after words in her journal, tears running down her face because, he now realized, worry was eating her alive.

Gabriel saddened as well, at the memory.

There was always an edge of sadness in both his parents' eyes, even when they smiled, a melancholy that never left them, along with that ever-present air of fierce protectiveness toward one another when they looked at each other and thought that no one else was paying attention to them.

What if that behaviour was connected to the daguerreotype and the cross?

‘Well,’ he thought, as he started to open the drawers of the desk, ‘Let’s see what secrets are you keeping from me,’

And with the same stubbornness of a bloodhound, he searched and searched, moving all books that were still sitting in all the drawers, on all the shelves, looking in every single angle of the studio, peeking in all the boxes he could lay his hands on, going as far as to look under the musty pillows of the couch in the living room and the old mattresses in his parents’ bedroom, and even in the pantry of the unused kitchen, in the empty tin boxes where Father had often hidden his bullets and brass knuckles.

But nothing came out of it.

Hours went by, as Gabriel combed those rooms, looking in every little nook, but his efforts were rewarded with a booming, deafening nothing.

He felt frustrated at first, but after having searched his parents’ bedroom, he was downright irritated.

Unnerved, yet stubborn as ever, he went to his parents’ old wardrobe and opened it.

Old leather coats, waistcoats that were positively antediluvian, musty yellowed shirts and top hats eaten by moths, some of them more than forty years old - all belonging to his father - were all that stood in front of him.

Exasperated, Gabriel started to take them all out, tossing them behind him, in the hope to find a crate, a jewel box, a hidden panel, a double layer, anything at all.

But all that welcomed his sight was just clothes, clothes and more clothes, and once he was done with his ravage, nothing at all.

“Damn it all!” he bellowed, sitting on the floor, kicking one of the leather coats away from him, in a childish gesture.

He was sure! So sure that he would have been able to find something there!

Where else could he find what he needed?

Lily was categoric no one had entered that place since before his discovery at the Manor on Christmas, so he was sure that if anything was hidden there, he would have found it by now.

“Or maybe, silly boy” he thought, leaning against the bed behind him, as he bit his nail, “There is nothing to find, and Emmett and Father were telling the truth and you were just looking for a mystery to solve because you have an overly active imagination, like Uri always says,”

He grimaced, resting the back of his head against the bed frame.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, sighing.

He couldn’t negate to himself that part of him was relieved by his own failure: no great mystery meant nothing would change. However, another part of him was already dreading the moment he was to report to Eva about his failure. He sighed even more, already feeling his cheeks turning red for shame. More than anything, he felt ashamed for having thought that his sweet, gentle mother could have anything to do with the Templars.

Drained from all those emotions, Gabriel sat for a while longer, reaching out the old garments to gather them and put them back into the wardrobe. As he started to pile the old coats, something small fell in his lap from one of the internal pockets of a particularly worn-out leathery robe, one that had a peculiar quilted collar.

He took it in his hands,and his mouth opened in surprise.

It was a folded piece of paper, yellowed by time.

He quirked his lips, wrinkling his nose with interest.

Careful not to rip the fragile paper, Gabriel unfolded it, and immediately recognized the round handwriting that belonged to his father. He would recognize it among thousands, for how many times he had to look at it while he was learning to write as a child.

A few dried petals fell from the folds of the paper, petals that once must have been of a beautiful shade of vibrant orange. He picked them from the floor, delicately holding them in his fingers, and tried to make out what they were.

Lilies.

Mother’s favourites.

His eyes widened as he figured out what he had between his hands: it was a torn page of a journal. With shaking hands, Gabriel smoothed the surface, his heart racing in his chest.

It could be nothing. It could be a mere report on the weather of the most boring day of his father’s life.

But as he started to scour through the first few lines, Gabriel felt a chasm open in his stomach.

I don’t know what to do anymore. Her eyes pierce me with a silent prayer each time she looks at me, as if she could see straight into my heart. And I know she does. She sees right through me. She knows I’m tired. She knows I cannot do this anymore. She knows we cannot do this anymore. I see my heart’s disquiet reflected in her eyes each time she looks at me. And I know she is asking me - begging me- to find a solution together. We need to. This war that’s going on between us is straining both our spirits. I know Dottie is also growing tired of all this. This pantomime, this blasted conflict, with no favorable solution at all, if not for one of us to yield. I just want to hold her in my arms - I want to be in her arms - and forget about everything else. I just want to go back to when it was just the two of us, a man and a woman in love with each other, and nothing more than that. She is expecting our child and we cannot be together as we ought, which is so absurd, it’s verging into the biggest idiocy of it all time. A man that cannot be at the side of the woman he loves? A father that cannot be close to his child? Because of this war? Because of that guard dog that is always at her side. I...I need to be close to her. To them. I’m terrified out of my wits of what I might become if anything were to happen to her, if they were to discover us. They would kill her for it. And..and I am terrified I’ll end up like Father after he lost Mother, and I’ll be dead if that ever comes to pass. No way in Hell I’ll become like him. My patience is truly running thin. Dottie needs me. Emmett needs me. The last time I managed to steal five minutes for us, she wasn’t well. She was less than before. She said it was because of the bab, not to worry, because she was followed by the best midwives. But I’m unable to not worry about her. The whole Order is burdened on her shoulders, and I can see it sucking the life out of her, those fucking parasites. Tonight I will try to go to her, and not even the Hounds of Hell will keep me away from her. I don’t care about all those Templars between us. Her father couldn’t keep us away when he was alive, and his dogs won’t be able to do it now. To Hell with Harrison. To Hell with Starrick. To Hell with the whole Order.

Gabriel raised his eyes, his mouth slightly agape. What? What had he just read?

Harrison? Mother’s maiden name? and Starrick? That blasted name was not unknown to him. He was sure he had read about it somewhere or heard it from someone.

But where?

He felt his mind racing like a train, the confusion and surprise hindering his capacity to think clearly, to recall anything at all. All he could think about were the words he had just read, running in front of his eyes.

Knowing he should have not continued in his reading, the younger Frye found himself unable to stop.

I don’t dare to utter a single word aloud about our love, don’t dare to show anything, but it’s becoming each day harder to pretend I am not familiar with her, having to deny all that we are to each other, to pretend she is nothing more than my sworn enemy, when she is anything but that. When I hear others berate her name, calling her “The Starrick Virago”, a "scarlet woman", it takes all that I am not to cut their tongues out of those sewers they have for mouths. When I hear them planning her execution, my blood runs cold. And I know Dorothea is trapped in the same way as I am, having to feign the same ignorance and indifference. We are running out of time. This war needs to stop. We will find a solution, or for her sake, for the sake of our child, I will be the one to put an end to this folly of a conflict.

Gabriel didn’t realize that he was holding his breath until he turned the piece of paper to see if anything else was written on the back.

His stomach was tied in a knot so tight, he felt he could heave from the discomfort.

Mother’s execution? “ Starrick Virago”? A War?

What...just what was their family, in truth?

Who were his parents?

He didn’t know what to think. He felt an intruder into his father’s past, in that small glimpse of what he must have felt in his heart when he had written that letter.

Gabriel was a writer, so he knew what it meant to entrust all that he felt to a notebook. As he reread the page, his eyes frantically jumping from one line to the other, he could feel that there was so much more hidden between those words, so much more his father would have written, but probably hadn’t dared because of what would happen if anyone were to find that page.

Gabriel didn’t know what to think, didn’t know how to dissipate the lump in his throat.

Just...what was the meaning of that?

He needed time alone. He needed time to think.

“Briel, will you come here? I might have found something,” he heard Lily’s voice call for him.

Breathing heavily, the youngest Frye put the petals on the page and folded it back again, hiding it in the pocket of his trousers.

Standing on trembling legs, his head spinning with thoughts that were running one after the other and his heart still in disquiet from what he had just read, he found his way to his sister.

He found her sitting on the floor in what once was Emmett and Margareth’s room, and saw her turning when she heard him crossing the threshold.

“Are you feeling unwell, Briel?” Lily asked, furrowing her brow when she saw his face white as a sheet.”You look like you’re about to pass out,”

“I-I am...well enough,” he lied. “Just went through a whole pile of old clothes,”

Lily screwed her face in a grimace of disgust, sticking her tongue out.

“That doesn’t sound like fun. Not exactly what you were hoping to find, eh?”

“You can say it loud and clear, ”

“I just hope they weren’t dirty,”

‘That would have been the least of my problems,’he thought, bile burning in the back of his throat. Trying not to think about what he had just read, to tuck it away for a mere moment in the back of his mind, he looked toward what his sister had in front of her. When he saw the small open compartment in the floorboard, just beside the nuptial bed, he felt his mouth go dry.

“What did you find?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said, showing him a small tin box. “Looks like Emmett was keeping something hidden away here, although it doesn’t look like much. Just...letters,”

He tried to let his heart quiet down, and tried to convince himself that there was nothing more there. Emmett was known for stashing his secrets away; that, itself, was no secret at all.

The youngest Frye tried with all his might to stabilize his trembling hands as he took the box and opened it.

“These are indeed all old letters,” he murmured, letting his thin finger caress the parchment, hoping that the grainy surface of the paper could help soothe him. “Some seems to have been written even before I was born,”

“Yes, but they seem to be the work of a drunkard,” she said. “I received enough messages from Em to know that it’s his calligraphy...but they don’t seem to make any sense?”

Gabriel squinted his eyes from behind the thin glasses, and opened one of the letters. Focusing on the words, the young man managed to find a moment of quietness.

As his eyes scoured through the lines, combing it, he saw that Lily was right: they didn’t make any sense, and yet something was nudging him that they indeed had a sense.

“It seems like some sort of code...” he murmured, turning the piece of paper.

He took another letter, and read through it, and much like the previous one, was a great deal of gibberish words.

When he opened a third one, he saw that the calligraphy was different, but Gabriel couldn’t recognize it.

When he turned the piece of paper, however, his face turned white like curdled milk, blood running cold into his veins.

A small symbol was scribbled at the bottom where the signature was supposed to be.

He had seen it before.

He knew what that was.

Slowly, his hand found its way into his pocket, where his fingers touched the cold, sharp edges of the Templar Cross hidden there. He had looked at it long enough to have memorized every single detail of it.

And he knew that, engraved on its back, was the same symbol of that letter.

The same symbol embroidered on one of the man’s coats in the photo his father has hidden away on Christmas Day.

The same symbol he had seen thousands of times in one of Mother’s books.

The Symbol of the Leviathan.

“Any idea on what they are?” Gabriel heard Lily ask him.

He turned to look at her, their dark eyes staring for a long moment, before he spoke again.

“I do,” he murmured, swallowing hard. “And I wish I did not,”

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER - Of Memories and Secrets ]

[NEXT CHAPTER - "Confrontation" ]

So!! I am *finally* done with chapter two of my story! FINALLY!!!

I am so sorry it took so long, I had a few hiccup along the road!

So, we are still in 1909, still following my dear Gabriel around, but do not worry! soon enough we will meet Jacob and Dottie as well!

I apologize for any typo or mistake I made, I have reread through this thoroughly, but I might have missed something.

You can also read it on AO3, as usual! <3 A huge HUGE thanks to everyone who has been so patient in waiting for me to upload my story, and in particular to all my friends who have been there for me and have been encouraging me, never giving up on me! I love you all so so so so much!! <3 <3

! I hope it won't be too long before I upload the next parts! <3 and I truly hope you will like this! --Nemo

#Assassin's Creed Syndicate #Jacob Frye #Dorothea Starrick #Crawford Starrick #Gabriel Starrick-Frye #Lily Starrick-Frye #The Starrick-frye bunch #my ocs #Jottie #Nemo Writes #My Writing #In the Heat of The Moment

36 notes · View notes

sharp-teeth-and-archived · 3 years ago

Text

( Evie Frye ; closed starter )

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐜𝐲, 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬. The gloves on her hands started to quickly become soaked through and cold pinched at her palm. From noticing this, she quickly opened her eyes to a white canvas below her, a cold white frost was beneath her and she couldn’t remember it being winter in London. What happened?

As she sat up and gathered some of her senses, the bustling city around her vanished, now all that surrounded her were woodlands for miles. Crunching of boots through snow made her turn her head to the right. In the dark, there was a taller man with a pointed tip peeking out behind his hat. A rifle? Where the hell was she?

Quite obviously, she was nowhere near London. There was smoke nearby and a bunch of tents further away from her, which continue to puzzle her. Templars were not common in the countryside and Starrick wouldn’t send any of his worse men out there either. There was no use in conquering the countryside while they had London in the palm of their hand.

A tug at her collar shoved her out of the snow and to her feet. Evie was quick to deploy her hidden blade from her gauntlet and sink it into the man behind her. She heard a muffled groan and she was let go. The assassin jumped onto the man and did quick work to keep him silent.

Her stay in the wilderness didn’t last for long. Any luck Evie managed to have on her side was quickly vanished after she slid the gauntlet off her wrist and tossed it to the bushes. She didn’t have enough time to think to change clothes as she was quickly spotted by a group of three men, pointing their guns straight at her. Disposing of her weapon might’ve been a great idea at first, but Evie still stood out like a sore thumb among these people. A woman in all black, with pants, a heavy jacket hugging her frame. It kept the cold off her body for a while, but it didn’t keep any suspicion off her person. The fact she was out here by the woods was enough to garner some skeptical looks.

Evie complied, as obvious as it was as she sat in a tiny cabin in the camp. She raised her hand and scratched at her scalp, slowly undoing the french braid circling her head. She thought it would’ve been Jacob’s luck to get stuff in a completely foreign place, but no, it was hers that got her here. Evie hardly knew if she was in Britain or in the industrial revolution anymore. From the looks of the men who stopped her and the one she killed, the only reasonable time period she could assume was the 18th century. But could that be possible? How could she break through the fold of time so easily and without any intention of doing so?

@honorhearted

#honorhearted #( sorry this start got a bit wonky )#( I wanted it to go a certain way but it appears that wasn't the case whenever I attempted to fix it up a bit )#( please let me know if I need to change or add anything )#( 𝑾𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 ; threads (( Evie ))#( historical au ; Evie )#violence tw #violence mention tw #death mention tw #death tw

14 notes · View notes

callingthemuses · 4 years ago

Text

You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about lately that still irks me?

The fact people are like “Oh no Jacob Frye can’t be bisexual! When Maxwell Roth kissed him he looked so uncomfortable! He couldn’t possibly like men!”

First off.. did y’all not play the games? Secondly.... what? Thirdly, it’s been confirmed as canon by ubisoft.

Lets dive into this REAL quick.

At the most basic level when Roth kissed Jacob it was unexpected and nonconsensual. You think bi people are just OK with random people kissing them? Or even people they know kissing them out of the blue with no warning? Nope. No matter what your orientation is if you don’t want to be kissed or you’re not expecting it you’re gonna react accordingly

Another basic thing to remember is: this game takes place in the 1800s where LGBT community was still hush hush and taboo all over the world. Jacob may have been confused on his orientation since he may not have been exposed to that sort of relationship. Doesn’t mean he can’t be bisexual tho.

Secondly, Roth did some despicable things in Syndicate and worked for the Templars. He nearly burned a bunch of kids alive in a warehouse run by Starrick, he also tried to burn a bunch of people alive in a theater. This forced Jacob to assassinate him. So.. if he was disgusted by the kiss, maybe, just MAYBE, it was because of the horrible things the person who kissed him had done and not so much because Roth was a man.

Food for thought.

#jacob frye #assassins creed #assassins creed syndicate #maxwell roth #ac syndicate #bisexual characters #jacob assassins creed

123 notes · View notes

thefemalethatwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Runaway (Jacob Fyre x Reader)

Request: Yes. Adfhhjbff I've been waiting for the day requests opened~ I am a huuuge fan of your work and would really like a Jacob Frye x reader who was supposed to marry Starrick to strengthen her family's connections but runs away to become an Assassin like her cousin Henry please?? (Ps have you played Odyssey?? Alexios' accent is?? 💕)

Prompt: After finding out that your Father is setting you up to marry Starrick, you run to your cousin Henry.

Relationship: Jacob Frye x Reader, Cousin! Henry Green x Reader, Platonic! Evie Frye x Reader

Warning: Violence, Cursing (?), Force Marriage

Word Count: 2070

A/N: I’m so sorry that this took so long to come out, it’s just been sitting completed on my computer for a while. I’ve not played a lot of Odyssey but I know exactly who you’re on about and...🤤😍

~~~

(Y/N)'s POV

"Father can you please tell me who we're going to meet?" I pleaded as we were in the carriage,

"Fine if you must know then we're going to meet your husband-to-be" He replied, my jaw dropped

"What do you mean 'husband-to-be'?!" I snapped, he glared at me making me lower my head muttering a sorry,

"It is your duty to marry Crawford Starrick to strengthen our family connections" he stated,

"You mean get more money and status" I retorted earning another glare, "Oh come on father! Our family is a line of assassins! Marrying a Templar is the worse thing we can do to honour them" I argued earning a backhand to the cheek, he sighed

"This is your duty, (Y/N). You will proceed with it. Forgetting everything about your assassin lineage" he growled, I sighed lowering my head, the carriage came to a stop and Father helped me out of the carriage,

"Mister (L/N), I'm glad you could make it" Starrick greeted as the two of them shook hands,

"I'm glad you invited us. This is my daughter (Y/N)" Father introduced me, Starrick took my hand and kissed the back of it as I curtsied

"You look stunning my dear" he complimented, I gave him a weak smile.

***

"Henry, you won't believe what Father has set up! Oh hello" I yelled as I walked into his curio shop only to find two new faces in there,

"I'd like to introduce you to Jacob and Evie Frye. They're here to help with the Templar situation. Evie, Jacob this is my cousin (Y/N) (L/N)" Henry introduced,

"Well it's about time. Hopefully these two will be more helpful teaching me to be an assassin because you're hopeless Henry" I commented making Jacob chuckle,

"I like her" he commented,

"Anyway, you said your Father has done something?" Henry said,

"Yes! He's arranged a marriage between me and Crawford Starrick! He could've chosen anyone else! But no! He chose the Templar f*cking king!" I ranted, the three of them stood there speechless, "And just to top it all off he told me to forget about the assassins" I added,

"So what have you done about it?" Evie asked,

"I've run away. I'm not being forced to marry the enemy. So now is no better time to get trained so I can help out" I asserted, the three of them turned their backs to me and began whispering, a hand was put over my mouth as I was dragged out of the shop, I rolled my eyes as I caught a glimpse of red, the Blighters, I bit down on the hand over my mouth making them yell in pain letting go of me, I punched another across the face as well as removing the knife from the holder and slicing the throat of another, then threw it into the chest of the last one, I grabbed ahold of the one who grabbed me and pinned him against the wall, "What the hell do you want with me?" I growled,

"Good luck trying to get anything out of me, bitch!" He spat, I glared at him as I took his pistol from it's holder and held it under his chin,

"Speak or I'll blow your brains out" I threatened,

"Starrick wants you under his custody at all times and ordered us to get you for him" he answered,

"Thank you for your cooperation" I smiled before pulling the trigger, his body dropped to the floor and clapping occurred behind me,

"Consider me impressed love" Jacob commented as he looked over the unconscious or dead Blighters, I smiled and shrugged

"So have the three of you come to your verdict?" I asked,

"Yes, you're stuck with me love" he smiled, I nodded.

***

"Can we do something that's actually useful?" I asked as Jacob was getting his ass handed to him in the ring,

"This is useful, love" he retorted as he avoided a swing by his opponent, I rolled my eyes,

"For you maybe. I'm just stuck here watching" I grumbled, he raised an eyebrow as he finished off his round and took his winnings,

"Your turn sweetheart" he smiled,

"You're joking right?" I asked as I stared at him, he mentioned the ring with a smirk plastered on his face, "You don't think I'll last long. I'll show you" I growled as I removed my overcoat and weapons before jumping into the ring, stretching out, I smirked as a brute hopped into the ring acting all cocky,

"Come on, I'll let you hit me first" he chuckled, I raised an eyebrow as he put his hands behind his back,

"Bad mistake" I commented before swinging a right hook into his face rendering him unconscious, "Whose next?!" I called out to the crowd as the brute was removed.

***

I sighed in relief as the last Blighter fell to the ground, Jacob and myself had gone to the 'head base' of the Blighters on the Thames, due them capturing a couple of Rooks, while we were here we thought we'd might as well take down the base too,

"You all okay?" I questioned the Rooks, they all nodded, I noticed Jacob walking over to us making me smile before my face dropped as a gunshot echoed through the air and Jacob was hit in the gut before a Blighter approached him from behind hitting him over the head with a pistol, rendering him unconscious as he fell into the river, my eyes widened in horror,

"Jacob!" I screamed darting towards the Blighter and decapitated them with my Kukris, before diving into the river, with the poor visibility under water I only just managed to see Jacob sinking to the bottom, I swam towards him and hooked his arm around my shoulders and swam upwards, I let out a large gasp of air as I broke the waters surface, I groaned as I shifted Jacob on to my back and swam to the waters edge, going under every now and then due to Jacob's dead weight on my back, I huffed as I clung on to a gap in the wall, trying my hardest to catch my breath, I noticed Jacobs top hat floating by earning an eye roll from myself as I knew he'd never let it go if I left his hat behind, I reached out and grabbed it before placing it on top of my head, I pulled Jacob to my side and lifted up his left arm with his grappling gauntlet, "Please work for the love of god" I mumbled as I aimed at the crane hanging over us, I let out a small cheer as it fired and hooked on to it, I retracted it slowly lifting us out of the River and got us on to the pavement, I laid Jacob on the concrete and assessed his gunshot wound, I removed his trench coat and my eyes widened at the blood "Shit!" I exclaimed and without thinking I removed my shirt and held it against the wound,

"There they are!" A Rook yelled as a carriage approached us with speed, I wrapped myself in Jacobs trench coat as they pulled up side of us,

"We need to get him back to the train now" I demanded.

***

It had been a little over two weeks since the Thames incident with Jacob, he was still unconscious but Miss Nightingale said that it was for the best while he healed,

"Miss (Y/N)" A Rook greeted as he jogged up to me, I hummed still looking down at the newspaper, "Edith Swinebourne wants a fight for the Borough" he informed, I closed the newspaper, putting it to one side and lifted my head so he could see my face under Jacob's hat,

"Well, I best not keep her waiting" I smirked standing up, "Lively now Rooks" I chuckled as I lead them to the carriage which took us to the bridge where the fight would be occurring, I hopped out of the carriage and scoured the crowd of Blighters that were opposite to us, a small smile appeared on my face as I found my opponent, I removed Jacob's trench coat and hat from me before passing it on to a little Rook making their face light up, it didn't feel right just leaving it on his bedside not in use, I walked into the centre of the bridge as did she but with a bunch of Blighters, "Well this is hardly a fair match, Edith" I commented a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth,

"Get her" She ordered and the Blighters came to attack.

***

"My, my, my, you look perfect in my stuff" Jacob commented as he came into the train carriage that was my room, I turned to face him

"Since when did you wake up?!" I questioned going over to him giving him a hug,

"Just as you returned from winning the control of the Thames" He replied returning the hug,

"Well someone had to take over the Rooks while you was out and we both know Evie wouldn't have done anything" I shrugged making him nod in agreement, I went to remove his hat and coat but he stopped me,

"Keep them, they suit you" He smiled, I lowered my head hiding my blush from him with the hat, he chuckled before two of his fingers tilted my head up to look him in the eyes before he leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on my lips, "I think I'm in love with you (Y/N)" he confessed as pink dust appeared across his cheeks, I smiled cupping his face, he placed his larger hand over mine before kissing the palm.

***

A low groan escaped my lips as I came conscious,

"Ah my darling Fiancée, you've finally awoken just in time for our wedding" Starrick commented making my eyes widened as I fought against my restraints,

"You can think again if you ever thought I'd willingly marry you, Templar bastard" I spat, his face grew dark before he grabbed my face and held a knife to my cheek making me freeze,

"You're betrothed to me! You have no choice!" He snapped,

"Go to hell" I growled before head butting him in the nose making him yell in pain as he stumbled backwards, a stinging sensation came to my cheek, I knew that the knife had sliced me,

"I'll see you at the alter" he asserted before leaving, moments later two female Blighters came in with their rifles along with two Brutes, the Brutes untied me but kept a tight grip on me as we walked in a similar direction to Starrick, the Sniper ladies followed behind aiming at me incase I tried to escape, my eyes widened as we turned and I was being walked down the isle, we reached Starrick and the brutes removes their grips from me as he took a hold of my hands the guns were still aimed at me, throughout the service my eyes were darting around the room trying to find something to help me out,

"Miss (L/N)?" The Pastor asked gaining my attention again, "Do you take Crawford Starrick to be your husband?" He questioned,

"I don-"

"Yes she does" Starrick answered cutting me off as he squeezed my hands,

"Very well, if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace" The Pastor announced, I lowered my head knowing that I was doomed, I was going to be a personal prisoner to Starrick for the rest of my life, the doors slammed open and Rooks filed into the room taking down the Blighters,

"I object!" Jacob yelled making me smile before yanking my hands from Starrick's grip, shoving one of the brutes into the ladies behind me and the other into Starrick then made a break for Jacob, he pulled me to his side as we looked towards Starrick but he was no longer there, "I think you dropped something" Jacob commented as he held my hat in his hands, I rolled my eyes at him before he placed it on my head, I pulled him closer to me by his coat and kissed him, earning cheers from the Rooks.

#jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #Assassin's Creed #Assassin's Creed Syndicate #Assassin #evie frye #Henry Green

104 notes · View notes

thero0ks · 5 years ago

Text

A Rose From Starrick’s Garden

I debated if I should post this oneshot. It is completely self indulgent, I couldn’t pick a plot line, and well I just wanted A LOT out of one fic. It’s complete trash, but hopefully you enjoy it as much as I did.

Also, I am aware this fic is not cannon compliant at all, but just enjoy the dumpster fire of a fic I created :)

The research Evie had trusted her with, had lead to another dead end. Defeated, she had shuffled through the train car in search of Evie to relay the bad news. Evie's voice indicated she was in the den, but another soft voice had Y/N pressing herself against the wall.

Shame flooded her for a second, eavesdropping was rude, but her curiosity won over in the end. A small smile played at her lips at the bashful exchange between the two. The subtle flirting had her feeling giddy inside. In her mind Evie and Henry were a match made in heaven, and she'd been watching the romance blossom between the two.

"Spying are we?"

That smooth voice, tickling the shell of her ear made her jump. Her cheeks flamed red at being caught. It didn't help that the person who caught her had to be Jacob Frye of all people. The smug bastard would hold this over her head for weeks to come.

"It's not what you think…"

She knew it was a lame excuse, and by the quirk of his brow he conveyed that it was exactly what he thought.

"I wonder how my dear ol' sis will take it when she finds out her best friend has taken up match making?" He pressed his gauntlet against the wall as he leaned close to her. "And when she finds out she's the main target."

The complete arrogance he conveyed had her shrinking against the wall. He was aware that he was in complete control of the conversation, and it amused him to no end to watch her squirm.

"There aren't two people more perfect for each other…" She dared a glance up at him. Her statement seemed to briefly catch him off guard. He straightened, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. His next words were muttered under his breath. If her hearing wasn't so keen she would have missed it.

"I can think of two people more deserving."

Before she could inquire further he had already made his presence known in the next room. Y/N could already feel the tension in the next room grow. Evie's obvious annoyance at her younger twin interrupting a shared moment with Henry.

"Careful Greenie, my sister seems to be having another fit again."

"A fit you say?"

Y/N made her way into the room to find Evie ready to explode.

"You nearly wrecked England's economy!" She cried.

"Nearly Evie, key word." He said lounging on the sofa.

"Nearly? If fath-" Y/N was quick to intercede.

"Jacob was just about to brief me on a party Starrick will be attending." She said shooting a pointed glance at Jacob.

Mirth danced in his eyes at the sight of Evie being worked up once again by his antics. "Yes, I was. A party your dear friend offered to go to in your place."

Evie's shoulders relaxed a bit, "no rib crushing contraption for me then?"

"Precisely." Y/N said with a nod. "Starrick is unaware of my involvement with the brotherhood, so it is possible that I may be able to glean some information from him."

Evie's eyes ran over her figure a moment, "with a bit of cleaning up I suppose you're exactly the type of woman Starrick would take an interest in."

"Yes, but how far are you willing to go for information?" Henry asked thoughtfully. "The most you could carry is a knife, which you would only have access to if you were…" Henry coughed, rubbing a hand up his neck.

"I believe the word you're looking for is undressed Henry." Jacob chimed in. His voice was taut as he shifted into a sitting position on the couch. "Which at that point Starrick will put two and two together, and her throat will be slit faster than either of us can blink."

"Then I'll go unarmed." Y/N said simply.

"You expect us to let you walk in there unarmed and alone, right into Starricks arms?" Jacob inquired.

"I think the plan is bloody brilliant!" Evie said excitedly. "Think about it, if he decides he likes you he may start inviting you to other places as well."

"A double agent infiltrating Templar ranks?" Henry interrupted, catching onto Evie's plan.

Jacob scoffed, "do you even realize what you're asking?" He said standing up, "you're asking your best friend to not only court the Templar Grandmaster, but warm his bed as well?" He cried, exasperated at Evie's schemes. "He could break her neck like a twig if he got the slightest hint that she's an assassin."

Evie rolled her eyes, "don't act like Y/N can't protect herself. She's a trained killer."

"So is Starrick!" Jacob cried, throwing his hands up. "When she's caught in a Templar den, surrounded by a bunch of highly trained Templars her odds of survival drop to zero!"

"Oh just admit it Jacob, you can't stand the thought of another man touching her." Evie said brushing him off.

Jacob froze, and Evie's shoulder's stiffened the moment she realized what she had said. "Jake, I didn't mean...it slipped." She said softly, as if she were trying to approach a startled deer.

Jacob brushed past her, slamming the car door behind him. Y/N's jaw had gone slack as her eyes darted between Henry and Evie.

Evie looked shameful, her hand covering her mouth as she sat down at the desk. She was still in shock over the secret she'd accidentally let slip.

"Evie..." Y/N began.

"You should get ready for the party." Evie's voice sounded hollow. "We've been waiting to infiltrate the Templars ranks for years. We can't waste this opportunity." Evie's crystal gaze seemed miles away.

Y/N's eyes darted between Evie and Henry. He only offered her a shrug, as if this was another feud between the Fryes he'd rather not get involved in. With a sigh she left the two to scheme up their next plan.

She could expect very little help from Evie with getting ready, which left her with only one option. Find a Rook willing to stuff her into a gown.

She was lucky enough to find a few female Rooks occupying the bar car who agreed to assist.

White knuckles gripped the table as the lacings were pulled tight. "How tight do you want it ma'am?"

"As tight as it'll go." She gritted. She had concluded that Starrick's suspicions would be laid to rest if she appeared overtly vain. No assassin would dare to waltz into a ball in a contraption they couldn't breath in...right?

The deep red satin skirt hung heavy on her hips, and the shoulder sleeves left her feeling bare and exposed. After inspecting her reflection in the mirror she concluded that she could appeal to any man with minimal effort. "I"ll be right surprised if Mr. Starrick leaves your side at all tonight." One of the Rooks concluded.

Y/N offered her a kind smile, "thank you Emma."

She grabbed the shawl wrapping it around her shoulders before making her way off the train. She was able to exit at (train station). Her next objective was to find a carriage.

•

••

•

Jacob watched the swish of a red dress disappearing into a carriage. A frown pulled at his lips. It was just like Evie to get her way. The mission was the only thing that mattered to her. When he had returned to the train car to plead his case once more she had quoted their father at him, "don't let personal feelings compromise the mission."

It had mattered very little that the mission involved her best friend. She could be extremely shrewd at times, and there was little he could do or say that would change her mind.

The carriage was easy to catch. In a flash he'd opened the door and seated himself across from her. A look of shock was plain on her face, and a bit of fear once she realized she was unarmed. A scowl quickly appeared on her face as soon as she recognized him. "Jacob Frye! How dare you scare me like that!" She hissed slapping him with her fan.

"Oi, I was only checking in love." He said, and a blush dusted her cheeks at the word "love." The unresolved tension from earlier hung in the air.

Y/N was the first to look away, giving Jacob the chance to take her in. She was stunning. The dress complimented her soft skin, and the low neckline of the dress created a beautiful decolletage. He'd never seen so much skin on the assassin, and greedily his eyes hungered for more. He had to avert his hazel eyes, "you won't have any issues catching Starrick's eye in that."

(E/c) eyes flickered down at the ensemble. "Evie will be thrilled." She muttered.

Jacob leaned forward capturing her chin in his hand tilting her gaze up into his hazel pools. "I'll be on the rooftops, if there are any issues signal me and I'll get you out of there."

To his surprise she threw her arms around him engulfing him in a hug. "Thank you Jacob." She pulled away quickly, "perhaps I'm more nervous than I thought."

Jacob quirked a smile, "I'll be there if you need me love." With a soft kiss to the back of her hand, he disappeared out of the carriage and into the night.

•

••

•

She steadied her breathing as the carriage pulled up to the stone mansion. The carriage driver assisted her out the carriage. Her sides were already aching as she made her way up the steps of the house. She fanned herself in hopes that it would draw more oxygen into her lungs, but it was no use. Many eyes were drawn her way when she stepped into the gardens. Satisfaction grew inside when she noticed even the Grandmaster had paused mid sentence to stare. She threw him a small smirk before heading towards the dance floor.

The bait was laid, and all she had to do was wait for him to bite. Her eyes were about to dart to the rooftops when she felt a hand press into the small of her back. "I don't believe I have made your acquaintance."

His voice was elegant, and refined. One would suppose it was due to good breeding, and coming from a proper upbringing. "I very much doubt it Sir, I just arrived in London not three days ago." She turned to face him, but found herself even closer to him as he guided her closer with his hands.

"Dance with me." It wasn't a request, he was a man who was used to being in control.

"I take it you always get your way?" She inquired as he lead her to the center of the dance floor.

"I'm a man who knows what he wants, and you look like a woman who knows what she wants."

Her lips quirked up, "I confess my strong will has lead me into trouble at times."

"A rose among the weeds, beautiful to look at, but painful for those who cannot handle the thorns." His palm felt solid on her waist, and she caught his eyes drinking in her figure that was on display.

"Have you handled many roses then?"

She found herself chest to chest with him. His eyes were hypnotic, and his body radiated power and control. A shiver went down her spine as his fingers trailed up her back. "Never one so sweet."

His lips were dangerously close, and propriety was insisting she pull away. She was unsure if it was the corset making her pant, or her heart that pounded dangerously inside her chest.

A smoke bomb went off, and the shuffling of feet could be heard. She felt hands pulling her from behind. Crawford's arms felt like a steel cage as they tightened around her. She was being pulled in both directions. "Let go of her." That snarl could only belong to one man.

"This has made the game more interesting Jacob." The smoke had started to clear and Starrick's expression was predatory. Cold steel pressed against her throat, and Jacob immediately froze. "What would Jacob Frye do to save a rose?"

"Let her go, this is between you and me Starrick."

Starrick touted, "I suspect she is an assassin. More's the pity, she would have looked absolutely divine spread across my desk." Gloved fingers tightened around her esophagus. She fought desperately to pry his fingers off. "I wish this had been under more sensual circumstances." His low voice tickled the shell of her ear.

Panic flooded Jacob's eyes, until a lucky blow found its mark. Y/N could feel the hard impact of bone against her elbow. It was enough for him to loosen his grip. Jacob sprung to action pulling her to him and grappling to the nearest rooftop. He took off across the rooftops. Y/N doing her best to find any speed quicker than a brisk walk. Jacob realizing she wasn't close behind, stopped to find her picking her way across the roof. "Why did you lace that thing so bloody tight?!" He cried.

"Why did you decide to ruin the mission?!" She countered.

"I rescued you from that man's skeevy arms!"

A roll of her (e/c) eyes was all she replied, "just find us a carriage. I can't run in this!"

Jacob was quick to zipline them to the ground. He found a small carriage and unceremoniously stuffed her in. She hadn't even seated herself when the carriage jolted forward, throwing her into the leather seat. "Can this thing go any faster?" She cried finding several blighters on their tail.

"I'm sorry your highness, did you want to drive?" Jacob quipped back.

A gunshot echoed behind them. "Glad to know I got dressed up for my funeral." She shouted angrily.

"Oh, Y/N I've been in worse spats than this. We are perfectly fine." He said simply. It wasn't a second later when another carriage slammed into the left side of theirs. Y/N wished she hadn't gazed out the window. It all seemed to happen too quickly. Jacob had taken a sharp turn onto the bridge when the blighter carriage had slammed into theirs. The world was upside down a moment, and Y/N knew she was headed right for the Thames.

Jacob had been thrown out of his seat when the carriage tipped over. He braced himself for the cold water. When he surfaced he found the carriage slipping below the water's surface. It was then that it dawned on him that Y/N would be stuck. He dove under searching blindly for the carriage. The murky Thames making visibility poor. He found a window and began to smash through it. He pulled her body through the window, but found the dress was stuck. His hidden blade set to work shredding any material he could get his hands on. When the dress finally loosened, he pulled her free and pulled them up to the surface.

The shore wasn't far and she was barely breathing. As soon as they reached shore he cut the lacings. She coughed up water, gulps full of air burning her lungs. She was freezing, and the white shift sticking to her skin made her realize how exposed she was. "J-j-j-a-a-cob Fr-r-rye," her teeth clattered as shivers wracked her body.

"Shh love," he said softly as his eyes ran down her, inspecting her for any damage. Self consciously she covered her chest. The shift was extremely see-through while wet, and she was mortified the younger Frye twin had practically seen everything at this point. To her surprise there was no trace of smugness in his eyes. Only concern, and possible guilt.

"Let's get you back to the train before you freeze." He said simply.

"I cant walk around London like this." She said gazing down at her stockings that were caked with sand.

Jacob looked her up and down, "I think this is the best you've looked yet." Hazel eyes flickered down at sopping linen that was barely hanging onto her body.

"My eyes are up here Mr. Frye." She dead panned. She immediately got to her feet. "Well I suppose if I'm to be a trollop, I shall be the best trollop London has ever seen." She set off towards the train tracks, shoulders back and head held high.

Jacob's head cocked to the side, how he loved a woman with spunk. However, he was just starting to realize just how see through that shift was. If there was anything Jacob Frye considered himself to be, a gentleman was one of them. He was quick to remove his over coat and soon engulfed her in it. A shiver ran down her spine when the dripping coat hit her shoulders. He scooped her up in his arms, and he was surprised to find out how light she was in his arms. "Jacob!" She squeaked in surprise.

"Now come love, a gentleman wouldn't let a lady stroll about the streets in her undergarments."

"A gentleman wouldn't have made me go for a swim either." She grumbled.

His chest rumbled with a chuckle. "I am taking you for a moonlight stroll, and what's more romantic than that?" He inquired. "All in all, I would say this was a successful date."

She sputtered, "a successful date?"

"Fancy clothes, a carriage ride, an evening swim, a moonlit stroll, and you're almost completely naked. What more could I have done to make it a success?"

A blush stained her cheeks, "pray, what gave you the notion that we are on a date?"

A smirk spread across his lips, "you never denied that we were on a date, besides there are some positively wicked things I've wanted to do to you all evening."

"I think this whole night started, because your jealousy got the best of you Jacob."

His grip tightened on her, "what do I have to be jealous about love? My hands are the ones touching your arse not Starrick's." His breath tickled her ear as it lowered an octave, "and what a lovely arse it is."

"Why haven't you said anything?" Her voice sounded small. Unsure if this was a conversation the two should have.

He sighed, "I never thought you'd give a bloke like me a second glance." He said with a simple shrug.

"Jacob, you literally stuffed me ass first into a carriage, then proceeded to wreck said carriage in the Thames. I should be pissed, but honestly it's a little endearing. I know you mean well." Her hand came up to cup his face, and a small blush appeared on his cheeks.

"What in the bloody hell did you do Jacob?" Evie's voice snapped the two at attention.

"The mission was a success Evie!" Jacob said with a grin.

"Starrick’s men are all over London looking for you two! You wrecked a carriage off the bridge, and Y/N where on earth are your clothes?"

"The bottom of the Thames…" she said sheepishly.

"The mission was an utter disaster!" Evie cried.

"That is where you are wrong. Your mission was a disaster, mine was an utter success." Jacob said proudly. "Now if you don't mind dear sis, I would recommend staying far away from my train car for the rest of the evening." He leaned closer to his sister, "I have plucked a rose from Starrick's garden that I plan to worship thoroughly."

@marshmallow--3

#jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye oneshot #assassins creed #assassins creed syndicate #assassins creed oneshot #ac oneshot #ac syndicate

213 notes · View notes

itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 5 years ago

Text

Intoxicating: Drunk!Jacob Frye x Reader

Merry Christmas! I hope everyone has a lovely new year!

So, I’ve never played the AC games but I have watched walkthroughs and have always enjoyed the games, but recently, I rewatched AC Syndicate and never acknowledged a growing obsession for the younger of the Frye twins.

I have decided to do an imagine with this handsome and drunk man. The reader is an assassin moved after living in England and now lives in America, but has come back to London after letters from Henry Green. Enjoy!

This wasn’t the first time you had seen him drunk. And the very first time you had witnessed it, it wasn’t as disastrous as this.

You had joined the London brotherhood after receiving urgent letters from the only assassin in the capital, Henry Green months ago from America, begging you for your return with the chaos and downfall to the Brotherhood and lack of potential help whilst Templar control took over.

You were urgently more than pleased to return back to the country you had been raised in, but after being moved to America with your attention, you didn’t think you would ever come back.

You were more than surprised to see that you were not the only assassin who had received the message, and upon arriving in London after years of being away, you ran into twin assassins; specifically, you had remembered their decease father and his work.

Little by little - and with the naive plan to start their own gang - you took back London and the boroughs, all with thanks to the increasing recruits of The Rooks.

Bit by bit, you were just as adamant on gaining control against Crawford Starrick and Starrick Industries.

After being in London for a few months and getting used to the English weather once again, it was amusing regarding working with the Frye twins at first, and how differently they behaved from one another.

Evie the oldest was the more serious and studious to her brother, carefully plotting out missions with patience and steadiness. You were at first wary working with her but found that she was caring and thoughtful, thinking to the people and children that lived in orphanages and working in gruelling conditions.

And then there was the youngest, Jacob. Where do I start with him? He was certainly more head-on, - like a bull in a China shop you remember Henry Green quoting - brash yet with an oh-so-charming personality.

You had been blessed (you could call it that) to work with him on missions in both assassinating templar leaders and gaining control over gang territories, and in those many times you had, you had almost been killed from his audacious behaviour.

After hearing of another successful gain from The Rooks in claiming a full borough with so little casualties, everyone who had been recruited had gone out on a night to the pub, and after promising to ring up Jacob to Evie, you were more than terrified in knowing what you would find upon your arrival.

Getting to the Duke of York pub was easy, thanks to the noise of drunken men loitering around both inside and outside, the men and women were loud but pleased in seeing you here with them.

It was amazing to see how these people were so loyal to both Jacob and the assassins, and it amused you, to say the least how Jacob was so charming to rouse the restless.

Speaking of the assassin, you hadn’t spotted him entirely too quickly, but with some quick nudges from some of the men you knew that they had spotted you in here, you were quick to find his location.

He was situated and crowded around a bunch of men, chugging ale and lager and all sorts of disgusting beverages down in a gambling game, those gathered and cheering Jacob and the man he was competing against.

You took a glance at the number of pints they had emptied, and after asking a female rook for the reason behind this, she had told you that the boss was interested in trying to boast to everyone about how much he could guzzle without even feeling tipsy.

You were not that surprised in finding out how much of a light-weight Jacob was.

“Mr Frye,” Your voice brought those around you to turn to look on you, glazed eyes humming in your presence, “ how pleasant it is to see you this evening.”

His appearance could’ve been mistaken for his normal messiness, his top hat barely sitting properly on his head, collapsed in his seat with his clothes looking slightly more disorderly than usual; as if he had been trying to take layers off but gave up.

“Miss Y/N, how lovely to see you at this hour.” Jacob’s words didn’t slur, but from his body language, he was barely even able to keep his head up, slumped against another male rook to his left. “I would’ve kept some lager for you… but it seems I drank it all.”

“No need, I’m here to pick you up and take you back to your sister. You have some discussions with her on a particular mission tomorrow, and I’m sure she’ll be most… abjured by your appearance.”

“Yes, yes, less talking about my sister, I’m just happy to see you here. Can it not wait longer? James and I were going to participate in a shooting competition, we need someone to keep track of points.” The assassin groaned, trying to pull himself up as he slouched his ale around the table.

Heavens no, an abbreviated Jacob with a pistol are two of the last things to be mixed together. You dreaded, leaning over the table surrounded by others, and successfully prying the pint glass out of his grasp.

Jacob made a sound similar to a kicked puppy: a low whine sounded from the back of his throat, as he tried to grasp back at his drink taken, his beautiful hazel eyes wide in desperation. “But Y/NNNN-”

“No buts, come, I don’t want to drag you out in front of your rooks, do I?” You questioned, your voice trying to hide the amusement over the current affair.

You heard around you the snickers of other men, some taking side glances and whispering to one another not so quietly, all delighted by the entertainment. Choosing to ignore them for now, you could only imagine that it was just drunk men happily watching a sober assassin try to move one of their partners.

Jacob let out another whine, one you had heard many times when he was wrong in comparison to Evie; a sound of defeat. “Fine, you’re starting to spend too much time with her, I say. I do need to get up anyway, been dying for a piss.”

“Charming Mr Frye.” You mused, taking a step back to watch as Jacob attempted to climb over the other Rooks from his corner of the room, hearing the sounds of others groaning and trying to not be trampled over.

“Miss, will you need any assistance taking the boss home?” You turned to see two larger men you were familiar with in assisting in gang wars with Jacob; men twice as tall and beefer than the canned preservative.

“No need gentlemen, how bad can it be dragging him back?”

You watched the drunken songs being sung outside and inside the pub you had stepped out from, the night air nipping at your skin and face as you buddled up, watching as some sort of bodyguard as Jacob did his business in an adjacent alleyway.

“Come now, spill it out, how much did Evie pay for you to come to see me like this?” Jacob’s voice carried itself through the alleyway out into the open air you were standing in.

“Nothing, I have seen you in this state before. Just… not so bad.” You eyes glanced to the stumbling, a mutter of a curse word under Jacob’s breath as he stabilised himself with a hand to the wall for balance. “Does she usually pay those to see you like this?”

“Hang on, when did you see me like this the first time?” Jacob retorted dryly from the darkness. “The drunken bet, were you fought some men in the streets shirtless? I saw you run past.”

Jacob made a noise of a chuckle, zipping up as he turned to look back on you. “You were impressed weren’t you?“ He grinned, and even in this light with little of the streetlights dimming, his hazel eyes shone more like coppers mixed with brown.

“Hmm, not in the slightest.” You laughed, earning a pout in return to your remark. Jacob whispered something along his breath, too softly spoken for you to hear that he had asked you something else, maybe in regards to that evening?

“Come now, you’re freezing.” He stated, pulling away to stand away from the wall he pissed against. You noted he seemed to know where he was going, the alleyway was always a shortcut he knew more than you, but you were getting used to being in alleyways late at night.

“I’ve been worse Mr Frye-”

“Jacob. Stop with this politeness. You’re not in front of Evie or even Greenie.” His voice was low on him, lower and more sultry as if he was putting it on for effect for you.

You smirked and rolled your eyes when you took you aside to a different corner, taking your hand into his, and breathing over them to keep them warm. “I appreciate the offer, Jacob, we’ll be back on the train if we hurry up.”

“What is there to hurry for? For me to be nagged at when I return?” You knew that smirk he put on when he wanted his own way, his charm-factor had risen into the hundreds just so he could get you to not resist.

“Wouldn’t you want a little fun Y/N? The night is still young.”

His face hung lower to your own, and from this angle, you could see just how much his pupils had blown wide, some sly look waiting and bubbling in those eyes.

You hummed in thought, it wouldn’t hurt to just spend a couple of minutes away without having to return to the train, right?

You looked at him, neither one of you budging to break eye contact. “You can start by attempting to warm me up.”

“Oh, I can think of many ways of doing that.” chortled Jacob with a purr as he blew wind just below your ear, taking you to his chest as he wrapped the outside flaps of his coat around you in an attempt to keep you warm.

Facing inwards to him did keep you protected from the cold, and you wouldn’t deny that you did enjoy the feel of being this close to him. You could smell the ale strong on his breath, mingled with something muskier but mild to not make you turn your nostrils up at it.

“Is this helping?” He whispered close to your ear, keeping you taut in his arms, “Or do I need to resort to other solutions?”

“I’m sure there are ways of keeping me warm back on the train, hmm?” You suggested, pawing at his torso with needy fingers. “A nice cup of tea, and blanket? Maybe if I don’t tell on you, you can be my little cupbearer?”

“You can always give me an… reasonable reward?” He purred, nipping at your earlobe. “Something that we’ll keep the both of us warm?”

Your body was flush to his, his body leant into you and you have to keep him up. You were enjoying the thrill of hiding from his Rooks, the thought of being caught with their boss was something you couldn’t help indulge on.

“Hurry up then and we can get to the train quick, without me having to drag you all around London.”

“Okay love,” he sang, “as long as I get to have you as soon as.”

You heaved and pushed an unconscious Jacob onto his own bed, holding yourself up as you tried catching your breath. After passing out and having to attempt to make a return, you had to resort to taking a carriage and ride him back inside of it.

You didn’t want to imagine the possibility of the police catching you in the act of kidnapping a drunk and unconscious man and throwing him into a carriage, you wouldn’t have been too pleased in having to run faster than them.

You groaned heavily, moving to Jacob’s side as you jabbed him, resulting in the groggy man muttering nonsense to you about trying to stay awake.

You even managed to hide him away from Evie– ooh the nerve of this man! He had to make it up to you in some way-

“Up with your arms sleepy head.” You had successfully pulled at his jacket and tie, trying to throw off his shirt as he tiredly lifted his arms up.

“Hhhgh, Y/N– keep me warm,” Jacob muttered in gibberish, swaying from side to side as he tried to grab at you with a hand. You were too quick for him, leaping out of his way as you grabbed at his hat and threw it to the side.

“I think that’s the point Jacob, you should be keeping me warm.”

“But love, I can’t if you’re not here.” He threw himself back onto the bed, eyes just wide enough that you could see the puppy dog eyes come out.

“Come here.” He patted the available space next to him.

“Jacob, you’re not that drunk to know from your lefts to your rights, so you’re certainly not that drunk to— hey! Hands off!”

In the knick of time, Jacob had once again grabbed at you whilst you were speaking, throwing you with his hands around your waist as he threw you back onto the bed, him following soon after to throw himself on top of you.

“Shut up love.” He gruffly spoke against your neck, pressing hot kisses into your exposed skin, hands not seeming to stop in moving over you.

“Jacob, god sake, you can at least kiss me if you’re going to tease me.”You whined, throwing your arms around his neck as you initiated the kiss by pulling him back up to meet you in a feverish kiss, tongues and all.

His sideburns were wispy and ticklish along your cheeks, but you didn’t care, running your fingers in his hair and gaining a stifled groan from him.

Your hands explored his exposed body, fingers dipping over his back muscles, pulling him closer to you if possible as the two of you didn’t break from kissing one another.

“What time did you say you had to go out tomorrow morning?” You gave enough space to ask him, his own lips moving back down towards your neck as he unbuckled the front of your corset and shirt with fumbling fingers.

With a cocky grin, the assassin on top of you looked so predatory above you, with lustful eyes that made you think that he was never to begin with drunk, or the soberness was kicking back in.

With a lick of his lips, his natural charm returned, never failing to make you swoon and your knees buckle.

“I won’t tell Evie if you don’t get me in trouble.”

#ac syndicate #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #ac syndicate Jacob frye #assassin's creed syndicate #my husband everyone #my idiot husband #and I love him #drunk Jacob frye #evie frye #assassin's creed oneshot #ac oneshot #Jacob frye x reader oneshot #one shot

188 notes · View notes

burnededens · 5 years ago

Text

( avan jogia, trans male, he/him, assassin’s creed: syndicate ) * &. i know it must be scary for you, jacob frye, after not surviving the takeover. to turn into someone like jacob "jake” fowles, a twenty-five year-old bartender at dragon’s breath brewery & fighter at the ring, right here in castle town. just remember that you are as charming as you are reckless, and to be wary, be safe, be true to who you are : neutral through and through. ( hylia gets assassin’s creed on main )

SO FUN FACT - I have been wanting to write this character in this group for months and it is absolutely a crime that it took me this long to pick him up but here we FINALLY are ! I’m genuinely shocked he’s the first Assassin’s Creed character here because I personally think all of the characters are phenomenal and it was either gonna be this character or the protagonist from two games before ( Edward Kenway of Black Flag ) but I have a slightly greater preference towards Jacob so !! Behold the living embodiment of chaotic good !! Obvious tws for death , violence , and murder under the cut because this is a series about assassins , but also gang stuff ( and a very small bullying mention in the post-snap portion ) too. I hope this is easy to understand !!

BEFORE THE SNAP / J A C O B F R Y E .

S’OKAY again I will always try and explain the games’ history and Syndicate’s specific plotline in the simplest of ways - and especially because AC can get very confusing very fast. Thankfully Syndicate is one of the more straightforward entries , but before I get into that , I have to give a basic rundown of the lore since... it will not make sense if you haven’t played any of the games.

A long long long time ago , there were these people called the Isu , and the Isu crafted something that the AC franchise refers to as Pieces of Eden. The Pieces of Eden ultimately has access to control other living beings , and they were extremely powerful.

Flash forward a little bit where you have two forces - the Knights’ Templar and the Assassin Order/Brotherhood - that struggled for these Pieces of Eden for two very different reasons.

The Templars valued order and wanted to use them to control others to achieve a utopia - believing that human corruption & essentially free will were what caused most evils of the world.

The Assassins valued freedom & wanted to preserve the free will of the world , believing that control would do them no good and a mutual understanding under this freedom would be what created a utopia.

So basically , Templars wanted peace via control and Assassins wanted peace via freedom.

Templars wanted the Pieces of Eden to control , and the Assassins knew this was Not Good and often sought to keep the Pieces the fuck away from the Templars ( at least , that’s always how I saw it. )

Of course , because we’re now on like ten main games and seventeen spin-off games it’s OBVIOUSLY way more complicated than that , just that’s the most nutshell way to explain everything. That being said , let’s jump more into Jacob & Syndicate.

SO JACOB. Jacob is one of the two protagonists of Syndicate , the younger twin to the other protagonist , his sister Evie. They were born in Crawley , raised by their Assassin father , but while Evie was always more . . . into the Brotherhood and assassin ideals , Jacob always was more of a rebel & a free spirit. But nevertheless , he grew up an Assassin like she.

Flash forward years later where the main plot of Syndicate starts , during the Industrial Revolution in 1868 , where the twins are set on heading to London , which is pretty much entirely under control of the Templars ( namely Crawford Starrick and his network ) & their syndicates ( ha ha hA ).

This . . . is sort of where Jacob & Evie separate in terms of goals - Evie’s well-aware of the Pieces of Eden and aims to collect them before the Templars do. However , Jacob’s more so intent on taking down Templars & liberating London from their control. He goes as far as to even starting a gang with his sister - known as the Rooks - to combat the Templar-controlled gang that has London’s boroughs in its grasp known as the Blighters.

Evie’s basically like “okay we’re going to collect the Pieces of Eden so the templars don’t have them bc Starrick will be more powerful if he has them” but Jacob says to her “fUCK YOU I’M A MAN WHO’S GONNA FREE THE PEOPLE” and. Yeah.

Throughout the game , Jacob’s the twin that exhibits a more impulsive , reckless , yet well-meaning approach to problems - and that sorta kinda . . . means that when he solves problems , he also accidentally makes other problems , and his sister has to clean them up because hey , you killed this Templar leader and angered a bunch of Blighters and we are fucked and Jacob can’t really. Grasp that because he’s too focused on freeing London NOW and taking out Templars NOW and [ Sleeping With Sirens vc ] do it NOW and remember deal with it LATER.

There’s a few cases where Jacob has even so ( both unintentionally and intentionally ) teamed up with Templars because he thought they could help him accomplish his goals in taking London back from them.

He teamed up with Pearl Attaway ( a businesswoman who controlled most of London’s transport and wanted basically a monopoly ) and didn’t find out until later that she was a Templar and had to assassinate her since she was the exact type of controller he wanted to rid London of

But also he struck a deal with Maxwell Roth ( basically a Blighter gang leader who had a shitton of power ) to work with him - but Maxwell saw this as let’s cause as much chaos as possible and fuck the consequences where Jacob saw it as more let’s fix problems by any means necessary and he had to shut down the deal when he saw Roth really just . . . didn’t give a fuck about anyone , including innocents. Jacob’s whole goal was to free and protect the innocents , he just didn’t care how as long as nobody got hurt.

AND THAT’S HONESTLY WHAT I LOVE SM ABOUT JACOB LIKE ... Jacob. Is the epitome of chaotic good like he cares so much about people and protecting the innocents & saving them from control that yeah he doesn’t really . . . consider the consequences of his actions especially when his actions are so chaotic but his primary goal is to free the people of London by taking down Templars and he doesn’t give a fuck how he’s going to do it , he just operates on his code of making sure none of the good people get hurt and the bad guys go down.

Eventually in the game he did come to realize the errors in his own work and way of thinking - he didn’t think much of the consequences , and therefore caused more of a wreckage than he aimed for. He loved the idea of freedom , but drew the line at absolute careless anarchy like Roth.

Basically be a REBEL not an ASSHOLE.

I love this kid tho like he’s so witty and rebellious and chaotic but also good-hearted and will still help even tho he might complain a lot about it ( looks at Abberline and Darwin ) and he !! He honestly acts before he thinks but I find those characters so refreshing esp bc he’s very emotional and adamant about acting on how he feels and his ideals and it’s honestly so. Idk I really like that about him.

He’s also canonically bisexual and that is something I will never shut up about but if you fucking even tHINK ABOUT ROMANTICIZING ROTH & JACOB’S RELATIONSHIP ( like it’s p much confirmed Roth had a thing 4 Jacob but it’s not. That’s not a Good Thing ) I will personally throw some hands with you.

...Jacob and Ned however-

SPARE NED?? SPARE NED MA’AM???

But honestly anyway TLDR; Jacob is a Victorian chaos-bringer who doesn’t really think much about the shit he does but has a heart of gold he’s just. He’s A Lot. He’s a lil bitch but a good kind of lil bitch.

ALSO ALSO ALSO I AM,,,, not exactly entirely sure where I’m pulling Jacob yet like I could pull him from the end of Syndicate’s main story but also there’s the Jack the Ripper DLC which makes me... feel things, but Jacob’s also significantly older than and a good bit of that DLC’s a bit triggering - long story short, we love and will protect Jacob Frye with our entire lives.

AFTER THE SNAP / J A K E F O W L E S .

So PERSONALITY WISE - Jake isn’t much different from his past self ; the only thing is he never grew up with his twin sister , raised an only child , and because Jacob & Evie are meant to balance each other out , he essentially grew up without an entire part of him he isn’t even aware of.

He was adopted - adopted by a working-class family from London that moved to Castle Town , and that was where Jake was raised.

Now , he was always a bit of a rebel. Always a problem child from the start. There were hundreds and hundreds of cases where he was reported either talking back to teachers , misbehaving in class , sometimes even getting into fights with other kids whether it be they were picking on him or someone else.

And he always liked the thrill of being that rebel - being that miscreant that earned a reputation ; never a mean person , never a bad dude , just somebody who . . . acted out. Acted out for whatever reason - mainly because he never liked the idea of obeying or because he taught the rules were stupid or because the rules meant some people were gonna get inconvenienced. Like , if you see someone getting bullied , why just tell an adult where you can solve the problem right then and there and sock the bully in the jaw ??

That was it. That was Jake’s philosophy.

His parents sent him to multiple hobby & art & educational camps & stuff to try and see if he could find some sort of hobby that would sorta get him out of this ‘problem child’ thing - but it never really worked. He always either got sent home earlier or was asked to never come back because hey , you can’t start a rebellion in the boys’ cabin because you didn’t like the way one of the counselors instructed you about knot tying.

Never worked out , his parents thought he was smart and would make a brilliant lawyer or doctor or something - but nope , he graduated high school , attempted college but dropped out after two years , and when his parents kicked him out , he crashed with a few friends and made a living on odd jobs before he scored working as a bartender at Dragon’s Breath.

And also . . . both fighting at The Ring and also underground matches for some coin.

Yeah.

It’s sorta-kinda through this he ALSO became aware of the other people who had to resort to means like this to survive - eventually starting his own gang of people who operated on sorta-kinda Robin Hood like terms - protect the less fortunate , combat the gangs who caused way more problems than he’d like , and also to basically uhhh flip the bird to the rich.

You guessed it - they’re called The Rooks and they’re not really . . . big , they’re just kind of. There. And nobody knows Jake’s the leader but it’s not like he’s really pressed if anyone finds out.

It’s overall not entirely different from his pre-CT life other than obvious modern differences and LACK OF EVIE sooo. Yeah !!

I’ll hopefully work on a WC page for him soon but as of rn I just kinda want to get some threads going - hope y’all enjoy my dumbass kid xoxoooo

#castletown.intro #death tw #violence tw #murder tw #gang tw #bullying mention #abt tag tbd #took me long enough 2 pick him up my god #also maxwell roth has no rights.

5 notes · View notes

nemo-in-wonderland · 2 years ago

Text

Hello Hello!

So, a few days ago I reblogged one of the very first versions of my Dorothea, and I wondered how my old artwork would look if I were to rework it now, with 3 more years of research, knowledge, practice and honed skills.

So, thanks to @susann-noir and @tkwritesdumbassassins enabling, I decided to give it a go, and redraw her!

Well, allow me to show you the result, and I am very happy with it!

Here 'tis The Countess Dorothea Marianne Starrick, daughter of Grand Master of the British Rite Crawford Joseph Starrick and Countess Annette Ingrid Bielke, Grand Master of the British Rite after her father, wife to Jacob Frye and Mother of the Starrick-Frye Bunch.

My creative pride and joy right there.

I like to imagine this was a portrait her father commissioned after she came back from Sweden.

Well, I hope you will like this <3

--Nemo

#Assassin's Creed #Assassin's Creed Syndicate #Dorothea Starrick #Victorian Beauty #Victorian Era #My OC #My art #Nemo Sketches

79 notes · View notes

imaginesheaven · 8 years ago

Text

Two drops of water - Jacob Frye x Fem! Reader

I really tried to write something during my depression. So I apologize for the shitty end and all mistakes you find in the story. Just enjoy it, please :3

"I bet you can scare Starrick away with that grim face of yours, brother dearest", you make your way towards the door swinging around the screwdriver in your hand amused. Alexander just ignores your comment about his bad mood, while he keeps writing in his little book about a bunch of dots and dashes, which result in a message.

The smile on your lips widens immediately as you see who your visitor is. Of course, you let Henry Green and his two companions in. "Ah, blast'em!", your brother mumbles under his breath not noticing anyone around him.

"Aleck?", you call his name to get his full attention. "I have been intercepting nothing but poppycock propaganda about Soothing Syrup and what not. No, I swear to high heavens, if Starrick's monopoly continues-", he complains about the current situation.

"-Aleck! We have guests", softly you put a hand on his shoulder to make up the harsh undertone in your voice. With raised eyebrows he looks at you then focus his attention at Henry. "I beg your pardon, these are friends of mine. Evie Frye and her brother, Jacob", the Assassin can introduce his friends finally.

Almost a bit embarrassed about his rude behaviour Alexander lays away his book and pen to jump out of his chair. Swiftly he dances around his chair to stand right next to you, "Um... Alexander Graham Bell." A slight smile on his lips as he crosses his hands behind his back, "And this is my lovely sister-"

"- [Y/N] Bell", you tell the siblings your name yourself. "Linguists, inventors, and technical experts", Henry adds to your names. "Too much praise, Henry, I'm almost blushing", you make a dismissive gesture with the hand which is still holding the screwdriver.

"Aleck, [Y/N], I have something of a favour to ask of you-", Mr. Green continues to talk. "Can you fix this?", Jacob takes a few steps closer. Well, the man is definitely not beating around the bushes. The Indian Assassin seems to suppress to roll his eyes, while Evie lives her annoyance with every fibre of her body.

"That's a nice little toy you have there. Nothing easier than that", but before you can reach for the rope launcher, Aleck already has his hands on it. Both of you know he is a bit handicapped due to his injured hand. And still it doesn't stop him.

"Aleck", your brother turns around pretending not to hear the warning undertone in your usually with sarcasm laced voice. "Hm... Looks like the casing is cracked", Alexander looks around for the screwdriver in your hands. "Aleck..." Not caring at all about your protests he grabs a wrench instead. What a stubborn man you have to deal with.

Your brother gets creative with holding the rope launcher lacking a second hand to use. "Oh, it comes apart", this time you are a bit faster than him taking a hold of the machine as it falls on the table. It wouldn't take long to get rid of the problems, if you wouldn't have another technical expert looking over your shoulder.

"You need to loosen-", Aleck starts to give tips but you cut him off by pointing the screwdriver at him, "I swear if you end this sentence, your left hand won't be your only injured body part." He raises his arms in defence smiling, "Go on, sweet sister. I could have used one of these to fit my fuses on top of Big Ben."

You can feel four pairs of eyes on you. Especially Aleck's, who would love to take care of the launcher himself. But he knows you will make your warning true. "Aleck and [Y/N] are installing a new telegraph line for our Free Press Association", Henry explains for what you two need the fuses. "To combat the Starrick Telegraph Company", your brother adds happily.

"If we can mend the fuses connecting independent lines from Big Ben, Starrick will be weakened", he loves to talk about your projects, "Only, we are somewhat at a handicap."

You turn around toying a sassy smile on your lips, "We? I only see your injured hand, brother. Here, I removed the mechanism so it may works with your bracer. Easier to handle during a fight or whatever you are doing in your free time."

You hold out the launcher for one of the twins to grab. "We've got a feisty one here. I'll put it to use immediately", Jacob won't let pass a chance like this. He turns around as Evie stops her brother right in time, "Jacob, wait. Mr. Bell, allow me to help you with your fuses."

A bit surprised you raise one of your eyebrows. "Oh, you will not find me too proud to accept, Miss Frye", glee sparkles in Alexander's eyes by now, "We can use my carriage. If you'd be so good as to hold the reins, though."

"That's my carriage you are talking about, Aleck. Just to remind you if you forgot", you put away the screwdriver. Ignoring your statement once again he makes his way towards the door followed by Evie, who snaps the rope launcher out of her brother's hands.

"Aleck? Aleck!", there is no way to stop him anymore now. A sigh escapes your mouth as Henry puts his hand on your shoulder friendly. "Thank you for your help. I'll see you later", and with that he is gone like your brother.

"So, it's just me and you now, Mr. Frye", you close the door that got left open. Said Assassin looks at your experiments which are spread out of the table you work on. "I've got another rope launcher here. I kept that nice little toy hidden, because I'm pretty sure my brother would have killed himself on the top of Big Ben with it", interested Jacob looks over your shoulder as you grab the old whiskey bottle on your side of the table.

"Luckily my brother isn't good friends with alcohol", the glass flask gets smashed on the wooden surface to reveal the said launcher. Jacob's brown eyes widen surprised, but he can't keep the slight smirk off his face. Not noticing the look he gives you, you work on his bracer.

"Go for it. But, please, use the neighbour's house. Our roof is already a bit leaky. Apart from this, the old lady isn't really fond of me and Aleck", you know his puppy eyes just to well from Alexander. The Assassin can't wait to try out the rope launcher.

"[Y/N], you just turned into my favourite person", Jacob rushes outside grinning almost from one ear to the other one. He acts like a child who just got a new toy. You follow him out of your house just to see him already leaping of the ground. A slight appears on your face as you see Jacob jumping from roof to roof.

Screams of children catch your full attention. It's nothing new in this part of borough and still you turn around worried about what is going on. Your smirk fades away immediately. A bunch of male blighters terrorize innocent little girls.

"Hey!", anger washes over you as you rush towards the blokes. Teaching them a lesson without a weapon might be reckless, but you couldn't stand by and do nothing at all. Confident as always you stand right in front of the red dressed men. Second thoughts? Well, not yet.

Unfortunately, they are not scared of your small and fragile form as you look up at them. The children take the chance of distraction to run back home just as you wished. Laughing the Blighters stroll forward knowing you turned from pursuer to prey in a blink of an eye. "She likes to play with fire", one of them licks the cold metal of his brass knuckles.

Before something probably bad happens the tables turn once again. With disgust marking your face you see how the blokes start to retreat. At first only a few steps, then they run for their dear lives like the devil is chasing them down the street.

A quiet sigh escapes your mouth as you turn around to get back to your house. Your heart doesn't even get a chance to slow down for a second. Shocked you face a pretty sure broad and muscular chest. "Well, hello there, love", red dusts your cheeks because of Jacob's words, while his arm sneaks around your waist to pull you even closer.

"You and your brother are nothing but trouble!", the voice of your old neighbour snaps the two of you out of the romantic moment. Rolling your eyes annoyed you dance swiftly around Jacob ignoring the lady for the first time you moved to London. The adrenaline still rushes through your veins. It might be because you can feel Jacob's eyes on you.

An incredible foolish idea comes to your mind so you stop mid-step. Jacob's chest collides with your back this time. Apparently the Assassin were lost in his thoughts. "Oi, something wrong, love?", he pushes back his top hat as you throw a sassy smirk over your shoulder. "Interested in some fun, Mr. Frye, until Aleck and Evie finish their mission?", oh, yes. You would everything to see a blushing Jacob again.

"I toyed around with some chemicals the last days and created this", proud of your work you hold out the smoke bomb for the Assassin to grab, "We have a backyard all for us. Let's test this little beast." Jacob shares an amused smile with you loving the way you think.

And with that the time flies by trying out different types of bomb together. "Okay, that was way too much smoke", you can't suppress the coughed laugh. "What … Oh, sweet sister! Is that the new formula? It is not perfect but by golly it works!", Aleck claps his hands even happier than he was when he left.

"Oi! You two will learn your lesson one day!", the old lady yells from her window once again. "How often already?", Aleck wants to know. "It might be the fifth time already. We should keep the experiments low for the rest of the day", you reply. The problems with the neighbour doesn't dull your smile at all.

"However, if you ever need technical help, come and visit. And thank you again for the help, Miss Frye", you shake her hand glad that she brought back your brother safe and in one piece. "What a nice offer, love", Jacob tips the rim of his top hat before the twins leave.

"Don't say a single word, Aleck", you warn your brother. "I wish I could, but the blush on your cheeks makes me speechless."

"If we strike the two drops of water it might turns the effect from sleep to death", Aleck toys with the chemicals on the table, while you write everything down in a little book. "We are not creating a poison, brother. We keep the water", he can clearly hear the warning in your voice." "But it would indeed come in handy", a third voice joins the conversation.

"Mr. Frye, right on time as always. Four days in a row to be exact. So, what is it this time?", you don't bother to look up from your notes. "You hurt my feelings, love. It was you who offered technical help", confident Jacob pushes your chin up softly so you have to look at him and his gorgeous smirk.

"And what is this technical problem you have, Frye?", you wrap your hand around his to intertwine your fingers. It's like the two of you are made for holding hands with each other. Your small one fits perfectly into his rather large one.

"Might be the rope launcher. Might be the person behind the device", he press your hand against his chest so you can feel his unusual fast heartbeat. "Again? It was your excuse for the second say you were here. Apart from this, I don't have a solution for human problems", you can see behind his poker face he doesn't even try to hold up.

"Maybe I only needed a reason to see you every day without looking like a inpatient fool in love", his deep brown eyes meet your [E/C] ones. "Let me tell you, Jacob, you don't need an excuse to visit. I enjoy your company", you say honest.

"Have you seen Starrick's latest lies?", Aleck interrupts ignoring how close the two of you are. He holds the newspaper between your faces to break the love spell. Of course, Alexander is happy when you are, but he doesn't need you two flirting right in front of him. You are still his little sister he wants to keep safe from harm.

Quietly sighing you let go of Jacob's hand to focus on your notes once again. Your brother keeps ranting about the latest problems to establish your new telegraph line. "Aleck, you are a genius", the Assassin praises his skills to create a new little toy for him.

"Oh, well, I have to insist that it is also my work. We discovered that the serum adopts the form of a gas when subjected to heat. That was a terrifying incident we had", you share a brief smile with Alexander. Poor old lady running around in her backyard.

"Just when I think you two can't surpass yourselves... I see you tomorrow", Jacob winks at you as he turns around to get rid of your problems. "This time without an excuse?", you look over the edge of your book at him. "No, still with one. I long to see that beautiful face of yours", Jacob is charming as always.

"…", your brother crosses his arms in front of his chest. You are not quite sure what the look he gives you means. "Two drops of water, Aleck", you remind him of the poison you two created together.

An ice cold silence has lifted over the Bell household since Jacob's last visit a day ago. To be honest it scares him a little bit not to hear a single word of you or Aleck as he enters your home. Now everything makes sense for the Assassin. The two of you are busy taming the great chaos of destroyed furniture and experiments.

"Something gone wrong?", Jacob asks extremely relieved to see you safe. "Argh!", Aleck lets go of a piece of wood, which seems to be part of a chair. You instead bring up a knife to protect yourself in case of an attack and point it at the Assassin.

Amused he pushes the blade down with his gloved fingers, "Careful, love, or you might..." The smirk on his lips fades away immediately as Jacob notices the bruises on your usually flawless face. Yes, sometimes you might be dirty form your experiments but never hurt.

Softly he grabs your chin, while a disturbing coldness appears in his brown eyes. "Who did this?", Jacob runs his finger over the cut on your lip. The answer is more than clear. Aleck and you were helping the Assassins in a city ruled by Templars.

"Starrick sends his men to persuade us. He is offering a ridiculous amount of money", Aleck explains him what is going on the last few days. "The last meeting with them didn't got as planned", you add avoiding the pleading eyes of your brother.

"I didn't tell you a word to keep you safe from harm. I couldn't know you would beat up one of them so badly! I'm sorry, [Y/N]", Alexander just wanted to do the right thing as bigger brother. That he doesn't call you sweet sister shows you that Aleck means his apology.

"Alright, but what do we plan to stop them? I don't let some blokes terrorize us", you withdraw your chin Jacob's sweet touch even if you don't want to actually. "Woah! No, no, I'll take care of them. I am the Assassin here, understood?", he takes the knife out of your hand matching to his statement.

"We have been working on something that you might like. It's meant to stun an assailant, should the need arise", Aleck shows Jacob one of the new bombs. "Wait, we are not certain that it works. We can't give him all three kinds of bombs to test them out. There is no time during a fight", the Assassin loves how you try to protect him like he does with you.

"Don't worry, love. I'll be careful. Shall we?", Jacob winks at you smirking. Sometimes you can't believe his confidence. "Starrick is still transmitting false information. It won't be a lot of work to destroy them", Aleck knows the perfect mission for his new device. "And there will be a lot of Blighters", Jacob knows what your brother wants to say.

With that both of them look at you sharing the same worry in their eyes. "You can't stay in the house alone, but coming with us is also dangerous. Why don't you take a walk around the city?", Alexander suggests taking a step back in case you will throw something after him. "I'm too tired to start a fight with you. I will buy our lost chemicals once again, while you two are having fun without me", you suppress to roll your eyes annoyed.

Aleck gathers all the bombs they need to test out so his back his facing you. Jacob takes the chance to grab your hand softly. He presses a kiss on the back of your hand like a gentleman. Red dusts your cheek. Yes, the two of you fell hopelessly in love.

"We can take my carriage", Alexander interrupts the romantic moment once more. A sigh escapes your mouth, "My carriage, Aleck!" Smiling Jacob follows your brother outside ready for the new mission. You take a quick look over the remaining chemicals to see what you need to buy. The front door of the house gets opened, but you don't bother to throw a look over your shoulder. "You would forget your head if it wouldn't be attached to your body, Aleck." There is laughter of several men, which results in your heart skipping a beat.

"Now we will see if you still like to play with fire", you twirl around to prepare for your attacker, but you are way too slow. A large hand wraps around your throat tightly, while your back collides with the wooden wall. "Where did your confidence go, girl? You aren't that great without your Assassin friend, right?", the breath of the Blighter is even worse than his iron grip.

"All of you know I could beat you. Didn't you see what I did to your friend?", you hiss through your teeth as you kick with your feet, which are dangling a few inches over the ground. "I like women with fire in their eyes", the bloke leans closer to you to let his tongue flick over your cheek for a brief moment.

"You should have accepted Starrick's offer. Let's have some fun until your brother comes home", another Blighter takes one of your still working experiment and throws the device on the ground. "You will pay for that!" … Hopefully when Jacob comes back right in time.

The sound of wood crashing on wood catches the full attention of the Blighters. You can't tell for how long you are already enjoying their company, but it's enough now. The Bloke's grip loosens a little bit, which is your only chance probably. Your knee meets the crown jewels of this thug. Due to the pain he can't even release a single noise. You are free and ready to run outside, but instead you grab a wooden plank to make him pay like you promised.

The Blighter falls to the ground and spreads with his downfall surprise and fear among the other men. That's when you take your chance to flee out of the house. Adrenaline rushes through your veins so you don't feel the pain yet from the few punches you had to take. Your usual collected mind is blank and chaotic at the same time.

It results in you almost running into a carriage that stops in front of the house. "I almost thought you would miss all the fun, Jacob", you don't want to but let yourself fall into his strong arms after the Assassin jumped down from the carriage. Softly he strokes your head not knowing how he should comfort you otherwise with words. The Assassin just got a short glance at your bruised face but it's enough to make his blood boil.

The Blighters leave the house just like you a few moments ago. Even the beaten man is on his feet again sending glares in your direction. Without a word Jacob pushes you softly into the safety of Aleck's arms. He needs to teach them a lesson what it means to touch the woman he loves.

Of course, they have no chance against the skilled Assassin. Within a few moments most of them lie bleeding on the ground and need to get dragged away from the companions. "If I ever see you here again you will die!", he warns them still fuming.

"Wow, that was really impressive", your lovely but sassy voice snaps him out of this terrible state of anger. Nothing could wipe the amused smile off of your lips even if you notice the worry that marks his face. Jacob comes closer to take a good look at the bruises on your face. "So that's what you do for your living? Saving the damsel in distress, while looking handsome?", you lean into his hand as he strokes your cheek softly. The Assassin actually laughs about your joke, but the worry won't disappear from his eyes.

"That was the last time they caught us off guard! Those bastards!", Aleck leaves the now calm horse behind. The poor animal got nervous during the fight and almost run away with the carriage. "You two can't stay here. The Blighters will come back probably with reinforcement", Jacob knows Starrick won't let go of you easily. Especially if he knows what the Assassin feels for you. An easy target to kidnap when he isn't around.

"Why not? We have the devices to keep them away. The Bells are not backing up", you stay confident as you cross your arms in front of your chest. "If I know someone who can do that, it's definitely you two. But I don't like it at all to leave you here, where Blighters can pass by whenever they want", Jacob cups your face with his gloved hands to empathize his statement. He can juggle with compliments and charm if he needs to do that, but right now words fail him. This is more than serious. You are in danger.

"And what are you proposing?", you reply melting under his featherlight touch once again. For a second he toys around with his thoughts. There is no going back now. "You can stay in the train hideout … with me", the last two words are whispered but you still hear them.

"Jacob, the train is too unstable for our experiments", you could slap yourself for not agreeing instantly. "I will buy you a workshop in every borough the train crosses if I need to. I just want to know you safe", Jacob won't let a chance like this pass. He won't let you slip away from him. You close the gap between the two of you and press your lips against his soft ones. He doesn't hesitate to wrap you up in his arms and kisses back with the same desire you bring into the kiss.

"Sweet sister, not in front of my eyes!", Aleck exclaims shocked, which causes the end of another romantic moment. "Two drops of water, Aleck", you mumble under your breath a little bit annoyed. "That's my woman", Jacob places a kiss on your head smirking.

909 notes · View notes

mangledassassin · 8 years ago

Text

Dissidents (Chapter One)

Summary: After finding her husband murdered in their home, Lisi O'Doherty goes to London, believing the killers to be hiding out in the city's shadows. She reaches out to Henry Green and the Frye Twins, and to her surprise, finds them willing to help. Lisi isn't out for vengeance, only answers, and she prays she will find them. But when her eyes find Jacob more and more often, she wonders if this was a good idea after all.

Lisi gently traced her finger along the curve of her mother's face, staring up at her with smiling, dark brown eyes from the locket. She gazed into the eyes, silently asking for some kind of help, some kind of sign to show her which path go down. But the smiling portrait remained silent. No help would come to her from there.

The padding of footsteps makes Lisi raise her head, and she quickly shuts the locket and shoves it beneath the neckline of her robes. She turned, automatically raising her fists and taking a fighting stance, until she saw that the three figures approaching her were wearing robes similar to hers. She lowered her arms and watched as the tallest of the three approached her, pulling down their hood.

"Annalise O'Doherty I presume?" He asked, extending a hand. Lisi noticed that his skin was brown, slightly lighter than hers.

"Yes." Lisi replied, taking the hand and shaking it. "But I prefer to be called Lisi."

"Of course." The man nodded and smiled. "I am Henry Green, and these are the Frye twins."

The other two Assassins had lowered their hoods as well, revealing another man and a woman. "Evie Frye." The woman said, taking Lisi's hand and shaking it. "Nice to meet you Lisi."

"And you Miss Frye." Lisi nodded, glancing at the other man, wondering about the relation. "And you are?"

The man took a step forward, grinning broadly with the kind of easy confidence Lisi had never been able to obtain. "Jacob Frye, at your service." He took Lisi's hand in his, large and rough and warmer than she had expected. "It's nice to have another Assassin around! The work load was getting to be almost unmanageable."

Lisi raised an eyebrow, unable to find a proper response. Evie jabbed her brother in the side with her elbow and gave him a rather disapproving look, which Jacob responded to by appearing wounded. "What Jacob means is, we're happy to have you here with us." Evie said. "Although I wish it had been under better circumstances." Evie glanced downwards at what Lisi guessed was her wedding ring. "You have my condolences."

"Thank you." Lisi replied. It seemed that she was forever thanking people for giving their condolences.

"I understand you believe the men behind your husband's murder are Templars from London." Henry said. "What makes you say that?"

Without a sound, Lisi reached into her robes and pulled out a dagger. It was finely crafted, the blade was made of tough steel and the point was so sharp the briefest, and most feather light of touches could result in a cut. Lisi directed the handle of the dagger to Henry, holding onto the side of the blade. The handle was pure white, probably ivory, with the symbol of the Templars engraved in it. "This was used to kill James." She said. "And I know for a fact that the Templar it belongs to resides here." She looked down at the dagger, remembering how it looked in James's chest.

(Lisi gazed in horror at the hilt of the dagger, the Templar insignia staring back at her mockingly. The blade had been buried so deep that the insignia was all that could be seen, standing tall and proud and impossibly white and clean amidst all the blood and carnage in the room. Lisi opened her mouth to make a sound, but nothing came out.)

"Mrs. O'Doherty?"

Lisi blinked and looked up, seeing that the three Assassins were looking at her expectantly. "I-I beg your pardon." She said, clearing her throat and putting the dagger back. "I was...distracted."

"That's fine." Henry said in a tone so gentle, it made Lisi want to wince. "I just asked how you know who owns the dagger. I mean, how can you be so sure?"

"I just am." Lisi replied, not wanting to get into details.

Henry and Evie exchange a look which Lisi cannot read and doesn't like.

"Well, you can count on us Lisi!" Jacob said enthusiastically. "With the four of us and my Rooks, we should have the bastard in no time!"

"Your...rooks?" Lisi looked at Jacob quizically while Evie sighed and rolled her eyes.

"That's the name of my gang." Jacob replied, looking rather proud. "They're helping us liberate London from Starrick's control, and a better bunch of men and women you can't find anywhere in London!"

"Using a gang to weaken the Templar's hold on the city..." Lisi considered this. "It's unorthodox, but with things the way they are, it isn't a terrible plan."

This seemed to please Jacob greatly as his grin wider. "I knew I liked you Lisi." He put a hand on Lisi's shoulder. "Together we'll give these Templar bastards what they deserve!" He punched the air, as if having already achieved victory.

"Oh for God's sake..." Evie rolled her eyes and Henry seemed amused by Jacob's confidence.

Lisi took a step back hastily, making Jacob's hand fall from her shoulder. "Well, it has been a pleasure meeting you three, but I'm afraid I need to get some rest. The journey to London was an arduous one." Lisi took out a piece of paper with a back pocket and handed it to Henry. "This is the name and address of the inn where I'll be staying should you need me." She put her hood back up. "I look forward to working together." She said, and turned on her heel, taking a running leap onto another rooftop, trying to rid herself of the feeling of Jacob's hand.

"I like her."

Back at the train, Evie, Henry, and Jacob were discussing the prospect of working with Lisi. A prospect Jacob was rather looking forward to. "I've got a good feeling about her." Jacob sat in a chair, resting his feet on the desk Evie used, mostly just to annoy her.

"I don't know..." Evie said, scrutinizing the paper Lisi had given Henry, as if expecting to find some kind of hidden message. "I feel like there's something she's not telling us."

"I agree." Henry said, sounding slightly ill at ease. "She says she knows who the Templar she is looking for is, but she wouldn't tell us how she knew him." Henry held his chin, deep in thought.

"Well it's not like she owes us her whole life story." Jacob pointed out, more than a little confused by the suspicion Evie and Henry were showing. "And I imagine there are plenty of reasons why she doesn't want to talk about the man who killed her husband."

Evie and Henry exchanged rather sheepish looks. "He does have a point." Henry relented. "Perhaps we're expecting too much from her too soon."

Jacob smirked, satisfied. "Glad you see things my way Greenie!"

Evie rolled her eyes and said nothing, not wanting to give her brother more satisfaction.

The full moon was high in the sky and Lisi was once again gazing at her mother's portrait. She was sitting on the roof of the inn where she was staying, re-studying her mother's features in the moonlight. She tried something of herself in her mother, beyond the dark skin, curly hair and brown eyes. Did they share the same face shape? or nose? Were her hands anything like her mother's? She closed her eyes, trying to remember her mother's hands. She knows they were rough, calloused from years of being an Assassin, but her touch had always been gentle, like nothing could break while in her grasp. Lisi remembers holding her mother's hand as a little girl and wondering if there was anything in the entire world as strong yet gentle as them. For all the stories Lisi had heard, from her mother and others, she couldn't imagine those hands breaking a neck or wielding a gun, not when they've stroked her hair and patted her cheek.

"Who's that?"

Lisi jumped at the sudden voice and moved so quickly to see who had spoken that she lost her footing, slipping on a loose tile and falling backwards. Panicking, she flailed her arms around, trying to grab something that would steady her when she felt a hand firmly grasp her forearm.

"Whoa! Careful now!"

As Lisi was pulled back onto the roof, she stumbled forward slightly and softly collided with a man's chest. She looked up, and recognized her rescuer to be Jacob Frye. "Jacob!" She said, slightly out of the breath due to shock. "You-you scared me."

Jacob chuckled, which made his chest rumble slightly. Lisi thought that the sound wasn't unpleasant, and feeling Jacob's chest beneath her hands wasn't terrible either. "Sorry about that, guess I should've announced myself sooner."

When Lisi made eye contact with Jacob, she suddenly became aware of how close they were. She quickly took a step back, making sure not to fall again. She cleared her throat, feeling thoroughly embarrassed and wanting to cringe. "Can I help you with something?" She asked, trying to remain professional despite how warm her face felt.

"Just thought I'd pop by and say hello." Jacob said good naturedly. His eyes flicked down slightly before meeting Lisi's again, shinning with curiosity. "Who's the woman in your locket?"

Lisi blinked and realized that her locket was still open and resting in her palm. "Oh." Her body relaxed slightly, no longer on edge and fearing a surprise attack. "That's my mother." She said, voice quiet and unsure. "She died when I was young." Lisi took one last look at her mother before hiding back beneath her collar.

The smile on Jacob's face seemed to dissipate and he took on a more thoughtful expression. "Sorry to hear that." He said.

"It's fine." Lisi said hastily. "There's no need to be sorry." She tried to find something else to say, but found herself stumped. Lisi had never been one for small talk, and she was finding it difficult to continue the conversation.

"You look a lot like her." Jacob said, with a gentleness that caught Lisi off guard.

"I...thank you." She said, as she was unable to think of anything else to say.

"If you don't mind me asking, where is she from?" Jacob leaned against the brick chimney, his hands clasped in front of him. "It's just that I've never seen anyone as..." He trailed off, probably realizing what his next words were going to sound like and quickly backtracked. "I mean, I've never anyone that looks like her. You. Both of you." There was a slight, awkward pause and Jacob coughed. "I mean, if you don't mind sharing..."

"She was from Senegal." Lisi replied. She was used to the question, although it had been worded far more awkwardly and asked far more offensively in the past, so this was a nice, surprising change. "That's in Africa."

"Ah. Africa." Jacob paused. "Was your father from there as well?"

Lisi shook her head. "No. He came from pure Irish stock." She could tell she was pulling a face, could feel her expression change into something unpleasant. "I'd rather not talk about him."

"Fair enough." Jacob said. "I'm not gonna force you into talking about anything or anyone you don't want to."

This understanding and acceptance surprised Lisi, and she couldn't help but feel slightly suspicious. "What of your parents?" She asked. "Were they from London?"

"My father was, but my mother was from Crawley where Evie and I grew up." Jacob looked down, and Lisi could just make out a small, sad smile come across his face. "They're both dead now, unfortunately."

"Oh." Lisi felt her face heat up again, embarrassed at having brought up the topic. "I-I'm sorry. For asking, that is."

Jacob shrugged and looked back up at Lisi. "It's fine. You didn't know."

There was another pause, just as awkward as the last, as Lisi tried to think of something to say while Jacob seemed perfectly content to watch her. It made her nervous. "Is there something I can help you with Jacob?" She asked finally.

"Actually..." Jacob straightened up and he grinned widely. "I thought I could help you."

Lisi didn't like the sound of that. "How so?" She asked, feeling wary.

"I could show you around London! Introduce you to some of the sights and boroughs, you know, to help you get you bearings." Jacob seemed rather enthusiastic with this idea, almost like a puppy. A very tall puppy, who had blades and guns and knew how to use them. "And maybe you could meet the Rooks too!"

The offer caught Lisi off guard (it seemed that Jacob was good at that) and she considered it. "Well..." She glanced over her shoulder, at the shadow the lights from the inn cast on the street. She had slept for most of the day to catch up on rest lost due to the journey from Dublin to London and stress. She knew that she would not be able to sleep for a while yet, and she had no means of entertaining herself. There were her books that she had brought with her, but she didn't feel much like reading. She looked back at Jacob, who was watching her excitedly. She bit the inside of her cheeks and didn't think for much longer before saying "Alright, if you want to."

Jacob's grin got wider and he clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly. "Brilliant!" He said, clearly pleased. "Come on Lisi, got lots to show you!" Without waiting, he turned on his heel and ran jumping onto a nearby rooftop. For a heartbeat, Lisi just stood there, surprised at the amount of energy Jacob possessed. They appeared to be the same age, and yet his enthusiasm made her feel decades older. With a sigh, Lisi quickly ran after him.

#jacob frye x oc #type: unrequested #type: oc x canon #setting: canon #this is from my ao3 and i decided to post it over here too #thoughts?

5 notes · View notes

nemo-of-house-hamartia · 3 years ago

Text

In the Heat of the Moment

Chapter 1 - Of Memories and Secrets

“The stars forever unchanging

They guide us on paths unseen

And you were written in my story

Destined to collide with me

They say you stole me in moonlight

But love, I was already yours

For we were written in the starlight

As the wolf belongs to the moon"

"Written in Starlight" - Karliene

Dover - Christmas Day,1908

“Damn my blood!!”

A single profanity muttered through gritted teeth broke the silence of the quiet bedroom, as the dark-haired man glared at the papers sitting chaotically in front of him.

He glanced toward the clock on the mantelpiece, and couldn’t stop the groan that parted from his lips.

It was already 10 in the morning.

Gabriel Frye had been poring over countless and countless piles of old newspapers and journals for what felt like hours, and the letters and manuscripts he was looking for were nowhere to be found.

All he had managed to put his hands on were boring articles, dating back to 1854, depicting the quick expansion of the Starrick’s financial empire, and its take over of the telegraph company, along with all the praises for Lord Crawford Starrick’s “exceptional sense of business and his unrelenting grip on becoming the financial King of all of London” .

“ A whole load of bollocks ,” he thought, rolling his eyes. " Who gives a dry fig about the financial deeds of a dead man?"

Economics always bored him to no ends: all those numbers, those cold facts.

As a poet, he couldn’t find any pleasure in that.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he raised his head from the messy pile of papers and looked outside the wide window.

The sun was playing hide-and-seek behind the dark curtain of clouds, and he was certain that, come eventide, they were bound to have another heavy snowfall that would most likely continue deep into the dead of the night.

Gabriel hoped that it would be a gentle one: there was nothing like watching the flakes falling in a soft enchanted dance to tickle his creative spirit.

All of sudden, he heard the shrill of a bout of laughter coming from outside the door of the room and the stomping of swift tiny feet against the wooden floor; the young man scoffed quietly, rolling his eyes to the sky.

So much for quietness and calm.

All the children of the manor - his nieces and nephews - were awake, ready to play together somewhere downstairs, their excited laughter the only melody that ringed into the hallways of his mother's ancestral home, while their parents were busy overseeing them and chatting together.

Not giving another thought about that - or about the fact that, being Christmas Day, he was supposed to be downstairs with the rest of the family - he resumed his search.

He opened another box, scoffing when he saw it was more newspaper articles, even older than the one he had just examined. With a huff, he kept skimming through all those yellowed pages, his patience growing steadily thinner by the minute; when he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he closed it back again.

“This is proving to be more arduous than I thought,” he hummed, tapping his finger against his lips as he looked toward all the remaining small chests piled against the wooden desk. His dark gaze was focused on them as if by will alone he would be able to discern their content and find what he was looking for, without having to actually go through them all one by one.

For once, he wished he had been born with the same heightened senses as his twin Uriel and his older siblings, Emmett and Lily, so that he could see behind the thick veil of reality in the blink of an eye.

Alas, no such luck had been bestowed upon him by fate.

Not relenting - his own father’s stubbornness invading him like a sacred fire - he opened another box, and another and then another one after that.

"AH-A! Found you, you little minx," he thought, as a satisfied smirk spread on his lips.

Finally.

A bundle of old photos, handwritten envelopes, and worn-out journals, all neatly stacked and kept together by silken ribbons, greeted his dark gaze.

Recognizing his mother’s meticulous touch in that arrangement and in the calligraphy of the letters, the young man pondered for a moment on what to do.

They weren’t his, and he didn’t want to be accused of snooping around memories that weren’t his.

But when he glanced again, he saw the smiling face of a child -Emmett, probably - looking at him from a time long past, as he was safely wrapped in the arms of their father.

His eldest brother's gaze, staring back at him, gave him the nudge he needed to dive into those mementos.

With careful hands, he unraveled the ribbon and started to skim through them, as a smile painted on his thin lips.

Pictures of himself and his siblings were staring back at him, some of them depicting toddlers and babies and young children, others portraying serious young men and women, along with the solemn faces of their parents, all dressed up in their fanciest clothes for a most momentous occasion.

He snickered when he remembered his own debut in high society, and all the fun he had that night, pranking Emmett and Eva in front of their intended.

As he his hand roamed into the box, looking for other pictures, his train of thoughts was abruptly stopped by a cold solid feeling of something metallic against the tips of his fingers.

He took out the object, and his eyes widened at the sight in front of him.

Hanging from a red ribbon of silk was a Templar Cross.

He brought it at the level of his dark eyes, studying the enamel, red and white and black, all exquisitely engraved.

It was small, almost insignificant in its size. And yet, Gabriel knew, it carried a meaning of incommensurable magnitude.

“What the bloody hell?” he cursed, under his breath.

Because of his father’s association with the Assassin’s Brotherhood, he had grown up hearing about the Templars and the brutal war against them. Uriel and Lily would always pester their father and their aunt about it, always asking for details. He, however, had never truly paid attention to any of that nonsense, busy as he was diving into whatever book he was reading at the time.

Now, he wished he had actually paid attention to what his father had told them.

On one thing he was certain about, though: theirs was an Assassins family, and no way in heaven or hell there was a reason for a Templar Cross to be hidden away among his mother’s belongings.

So what was it doing there?

He ran back to the box as he started to frantically look for more clues - anything, really, that might shed some light on the situation.

He kept roaming and skimming until his eyes stumbled upon a particular photo.

It was older than the others, and his eyes turned pensive as he scoured upon it to take in all the little details he could find.

His mother was portrayed sitting in an armchair, not unlike a queen sitting upon her throne, her face far too solemn and imperious for a woman who could have not been much older than he was now. At her side, standing tall and straight, were five distinguished gentlemen, guarding her like knights from the old Arthurian legends he used to read about whenever he didn’t want to listen to his father’s grumbling.

One of the men - the tallest and most imponent among them -was holding his hands on his mother's shoulders, a gesture of protection so strong Gabriel could feel it resonate even across the mist of time. Even through the black and white daguerreotype, Gabriel could see the gleaming of pride in that man's deep eyes.

He swallowed hard, as he registered a detail that sparkled his curiosity, but befuddled him at the same time: all the four of them had a Templar Cross hanging around their necks, the very same he had just found.

He was so immersed in looking at the picture, that he didn’t hear the opening of the door or the hushed voices of whoever was entering the room.

When a low chuckle filled the air, Gabriel turned toward the sound, a soft smile appearing on his lips at the sight of his older siblings Emmett and Eva.

"Good morning, darling brother!" said the woman, her voice as sweet as her fair face, as she carried a tray with a warm bowl of porridge, butter biscuits and fruit, a plate of bacon and eggs, and a warm, aromatic tea. "We didn't see you at breakfast, and we thought you might be peckish," she smiled.

"Aren't I always?" He grinned, taking the tray from her hands. “But this is not just a breakfast, this is a whole banquet. Let me guess: Mother has insisted on sending all of this my way?”

“You know how she is, sweetling,” giggled Eva, while she poured the fragrant tea in the cups for all of them. “Always worried that her ‘darling little angel’ might go hungry’. She knows that, if it was for you, you would forget about the entire world, when you are focused on something,”

He chuckled at his sister's words, and grateful, he took the bowl of porridge in his hand. He raised a thick eyebrow, as he glared at the inside of the bowl.

“So, the raisins in my porridge are her doing as well?” he asked, skeptical. He hated raisins with a passion. They were the Devil’s spawn.

“Oh no, that’s Uriel’s,” chuckled Emmett, from the small loveseat he was sitting upon.“He said that his dearest twin needed all the nourishment to keep on going on his ‘little literary quest’ ,”

Gabriel groaned. ”One of these days I will smack the grin away from that gigglemug he has,”

He reached for the window that faced the inner garden, and soon found his twin, busy in a snowball battle with Lily, their older sister, and some of the oldest among his nephews and nieces. When Uriel raised his head and met Gabriel’s eyes, he waved at him with an impish smile, calling him with a great voice and asking him if he had liked the raisins.

Gabriel answered him with an obscene gesture and a grimace of contempt, met by Emmett’s chuckles and Eva’s indignant reproach.

“Briel! “ admonished the young woman, her voice raising an octave above the normal.“Can’t you just let it go for today? It’s Christmas!”

“Which was exactly the reason why I was discreetly trying not to be found,” he muttered, looking outside the window once more. Giving Uriel one last obscene gesture, he drew the heavy curtains and taking place at the desk.

“Ah, little brother, always busy escaping the company of breathing, living people and preferring that of books,” said Emmett, not unkindly. His icy blue eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Can you blame me, Em? Everyone is so noisy around Christmas time,” Gabriel grumbled, taking off his thin glasses in a gesture that betrayed his stress.

“Oh, come now, sweetling,” said Eva, smiling that typical smile she always used when she wanted things to go her way. “Have a little chai and warm yourself up. Aunt Evie has sent this, specifically for you." She looked at her brother's grumpy face and giggled. " If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you were the very one that inspired Mr. Dickens’ novel,”

“Humbug,” he grumbled again. This time, however, he gave his older siblings a devilish grin - the one they all shared at that moment.

Gabriel didn’t like many people, but his older brother and sister were among the few he truly adored, and never minded to have them around him.

Distracted as he was by his conversation with Eva, Gabriel failed to see Emmett scouring the desk with attentive eyes.

The oldest of the Frye siblings had noticed the Templar cross sitting on the wooden surface, over the picture of his mother and the other five men. He furrowed his dark eyebrows, his face becoming a mask of complete stillness as he looked upon it with close attention.

It had been years since Emmett had last seen that cross and that silken bow, years since he had seen those severe faces. His gaze stopped upon the man resting his hands on his mother's shoulders, and he couldn’t help but notice how the black and white daguerreotype didn’t give any justice to his fearless face.

Byron Harrison.

The Leviathan himself.

The only reason Emmett was still alive to that day and able to draw breath.

“Do you know where Father is now?” asked Gabriel, blowing on the piping hot beverage before taking a small sip.

“He has been in the workshop since dawn,” said Emmett, raising his eyes from the photo. “He's been busy working on something for Mother….and also said that we were too much chaos to be around,”

Gabriel scoffed with sarcasm.

“I cannot truly blame him. Just with your children, Emmett, there is always a circus. This time around, Eva brought her own and Robin is here with his own brood. And if it wasn’t enough, I just saw Lydia climbing up a wall with Lily and Uriel. No wonder Father disappeared,” said Gabriel, grinning once more when Eva smacked his shoulder again.

“Papa was referring to his children bringing chaos. He said nothing about his grandchildren!” said Eva, indignant, wrinkling her nose as she spoke.

Both brothers let out a laugh at her outraged face, so similar to that of their sire.

“Any progress on your quest to find the letters Mother spoke about the other night?” enquired Emmett, taking a butter biscuit from the tray and nibbling on it.

“None whatsoever, for the time being,” the younger man sighed, sipping on his tea. “But I am getting close. I know I am. I only have other….” he turned to count the boxes still on. “...thirteen more boxes to check!”

“It appears that you are set to be busy for the entire day,”

“Either that or someone could actually help me with this scavenging,” he suggested with a devilish smile. But before he could add anything more, his attention was diverted by Eva's dulcet tone.

“Gabriel, what is this? A present for a lady genteel that you have forgotten to introduce to us?” she chirped, taking the cross that was lying on the desk.

But when she took a sense of what she was holding a light of repugnance lit up in her eyes.

“What is a Templar Cross doing in our house?” she stuttered with a petrified look on her face.

“Intriguing, isn’t it?” murmured Gabrel, taking back the jewel and staring at it in wonder. “And that is not even the biggest part of it! Look at this picture I found!”

Eva leaned toward the desk, where the old photo had been sitting, momentarily forgotten; but when she saw her mother, she brought a hand to her mouth, as confusion spread on her face.

“How? Why?” gasped the young woman, staring into Emmett’s clear eyes, hoping to find an explanation. “This cannot be possible! Em, you will convene with me that we need to tell Papa about this!”

“Oh my God, Eva, don’t be such a namby-pamby!” Gabriel scoffed, rolling his eyes.

He pocketed the cross, away from his sister’s attention.

Then, he said: “There is no need to bother Father for something like this! Besides, Em agrees with me that it’s better to keep all of this for ourselves until we discover more, right Em?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gabriel!" she chided, before turning to look at her oldest brother. "Emmett, you surely think that reporting all this to Mama and Papa and demanding an explanation is the most sensible thing to do! A Templar Cross! Around our mother’s neck! I would have been less shocked if I saw a pig grow a pair of wings and fly away!”

But even when both of them looked at Emmett, waiting for his word on the matter, the oldest of the Frye siblings merely lit up a cigarette, his face a pool of still water, unscrutable in its quietude.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” he muttered, blowing out the smoke. “The cross is probably just a memento from Father’s past and that photo could very well be from Mother’s days when she was an actress and a singer,”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, unconvinced: there was an edge in his brother’s voice, the same one he once had when he had lied to him about “not consorting with the Abberlines’s girl”, despite the young poet having found numerous evidence that actually suggested the contrary.

Emmett was aware of something. What, precisely, Gabriel couldn’t be too sure about.

But he did know something about the whole matter.

He was about to speak again when he heard a low, growly voice coming from the threshold of the room.

“Well? What are you all doin’ here instead of bein' downstairs with the rest of the family?”

Gabriel turned, only to find his father standing at the door, his grey hair styled back away from his face so as not to cover his only good eye; the other was, as covered by an eyepatch that was always present in all the memories he had of his father. Freshly shaven and with his whiskers neatly styled, Jacob Frye didn’t look like a man in his sixties. His broad frame was engulfed in a warm - if worn-out - wool coat, as he was still donning his workshop clothes, and despite his age, the once Master Assassin still retained a most formidable build.

The old man’s once playful gaze, now hardened by life, squared each and every one of his children inquisitively, as Gabriel exchanged an uncomfortable look with Eva.

“Cat got your tongues?” the old man asked, entering the room with a brisk pace and opening the window. “Emmett, you know you shouldn’t smoke in your mother’s room, especially with a window closed,” he added, turning to look toward his son.

The eldest Frye sibling merely nodded and went to sit on the windowsill, redirecting the smoke outside.

Gabriel cleared his voice, and Jacob turned to face his youngest son.

"Well, Briel?"

He looked into his father’s eye - the very copy of his own - and pondered his words for a few seconds: lying to him would be useless. His father always seemed to know everything that was going on around them.

Finally, Gabriel decided to speak the truth.

“I was here looking for the letters Mother mentioned yesterday, the one she had exchanged with Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Barrie?” he said, barely containing his excitement. “I needed to see with my own eyes how someone she knew had inspired Captain Flint in the ‘Treasure Island and Captain Hook in ' Peter and Wendy' !”

Jacob chuckled, looking at his youngest child with fond eyes.“Then you are lookin' in the wrong place, son,” he said, amused, as he bent over the desk to look at the open box. “Your mother would never keep her private correspondence in a box here in Dover. Especially the one she had with Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Barrie. I’m quite sure they’re all in our old house in London,”

Gabriel saw Eva tilting her head toward their father, in a silent request to tell him what they had indeed found, but the younger man shook his head, grimacing, mouthing a “not yet”.

But no words were needed when the older man’s gaze saw the black and white daguerreotype that had caused all the disquiet.

“Gabriel...what were you doin' with this?” Jacob asked, his heavy brow furrowing as he turned to face his youngest son.

Gabriel saw the flash of anger and pain in his father’s eye, coming just as quickly as it had disappeared. He would have normally answered with a witty remark, but his guts told him not to test his sire’s patience. Not that time.

“I stumbled upon it while I was looking for the letters. It was stashed away with the rest of the daguerreotypes Mother had. I..I didn’t mean to pry,” he hesitated for one moment when he saw the way his father was looking at the picture. It was as if he had just woken up from a long, forgotten nightmare.

“Papa,”Eva said, calling for their father's attention. " Perhaps you can shed some light on the situation for us?"

Gabriel took notice of the tone his sister's voice had, sweet and gentle, the one she always used, ever since she had been a child, to get whatever she wanted from their father.

But something told him that this time around it wouldn't work. And when he heard his father finally speak, his doubts found truth to them.

"There's nothin' to explain. This photo belongs to your mother, and it has nothin' that concerns any of you."

Eva didn’t give up just yet.“Maybe we can bring this to her and ask her direct-”

“No,” said Jacob, his tone peremptory. “Your mother's still recoverin' from that bloody fever, and she doesn’t need to be bothered over somethin' like this. This is just a silly picture from a time before any of you were even born, and it doesn’t deserve a second thought from any of you."

He turned to look at them, his voice low with disappointment when he spoke. “So, this is what you were doin' up here? Snoopin' around?” he asked. “Did I raise a bunch of nosey parkers?”

“No, father,” Gabriel grumbled, but his keen eyes saw the swift way his father had pocketed the picture, and it only added to the hunch that he already had. He was glad he had hidden the cross away before his father had actually had the chance to see it.

“No, I didn’t. Now, I want all of you to go back downstairs and be with the rest of the family - you included, Gabriel.” Jacob added when he saw his son trying to object.

“Yes, sir,” mumbled the younger man underneath his breath.

Gabriel dared to look into his father’s eye, before relenting and starting to put all the photos and the papers back into the box; but in the few seconds he looked at him, he had managed to catch the silent exchange between him and Emmett.

When he saw his older brother stand and follow their father out of the door, it only confirmed to him that Emmett knew what his father was trying to hide.

“Oh dear heavens,” Gabriel heard Eva say, as he turned to look at her. “Maybe we truly should have not insisted with him, Briel. He seemed rather upset, and I didn’t mean to do so, today of all days,”

Gabriel smirked. “I am glad we did, instead. Had we stayed quiet, as I suggested, we would have not been sure; now, instead, I know for a fact that there is something connected to that picture and the cross. I mean, don’t you think Emmett was acting peculiarly?”

"Peculiarly?” she asked, confused.

“He was even quieter than usual,” he said. An intrigued smile appeared on his face. “ And when I asked him about what we found, he shrugged it off too quickly. I am sure he knows the whole story,”

“Impossible.” She said. “Emmett would never hide something like that from us.”

“Mmmm…” he mused. Then, he took the cross from his pocket and looked at it once more. His eyes caught a detail that he had failed to notice before.

Engraved at the center of the Cross were the initials D.M.S.

“Eve! Look!” he exclaimed, bringing the jewel right in front of his sister’s face.

Her hazel eyes widened. “ ‘D.M.’? As in...Dorothea Marianne? Mama’s name?”

“Precisely!” Gabriel smirked.

”But..this ‘S’ doesn’t make any sense? Her maiden name was Harrison?”

The young poet’s eyes glimmered with excitement, as a shiver of pleasure ran down his spine.

”This,” he said to his sister. ”This is just a sliver of the full scope! Aren’t you curious to know more?”

Eva crossed her arms against her chest, with a pointed look on her face.

"For being a poet and an academic, I see you have failed to learn the lesson of Pandora and her box.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Or maybe this is a box worth opening if it will bring us to know more about this cross and why it’s connected to Mother! Seriously, Eva: how much do we really know about her and her past?”

“But this has never truly bothered you?”

“There never was a Templar Cross involved!”

Eva bit her lip, and Gabriel had to refrain from the smirk on his face. He could see she was as curious about the whole affair as he was.

“Very well.” she conceded. “ Let’s say -theoretically speaking - that I am intrigued enough by all of this to want to know more. What do you suggest we do?”

He pondered for a moment before a devilish smile appeared on his face.

“We need to go to London. I think I know where to look to find answers that will help us shed light on the whole situation.”

**************

After having left his youngest offsprings in his wife’s childhood bedroom, Jacob and his eldest son had found a quiet spot to enjoy their tobacco in peace.

He allowed himself to bask in the wintery beauty of the garden beneath him, his gaze embracing his granchildren running in the snow.

Some of them noticed him, their grandfather, and shouted his name at grand voice, waving with their little hands as they called for him to join them in the snowball fight they were preparing.

He gave them his biggest smile, as he returned the waving, reassuring that he would be down with them in a moment.

“You knew they'd find it out, sooner or later,” Emmett said, leaning against the balustrade of the balcony of the first floor on the west wing of the manor, his voice a low, gentle sound as he lit another cigarette.

“I did know,” Jacob grimaced, as he took his pipe and loaded the chamber with his favourite tobacco “But I had hoped that that particular detail of our past wouldn't resurface. I’ve never been happy with you knowing, Em,” said Jacob as he lit the pipe and puffed. "Had the Heavens granted me the power to keep you blissfully ignorant of all those horrors-"

“My situation was inevitable, Papa, I was born during the war,” Emmett murmured, taking another drag from the cigarette. He stood quiet for a moment, before looking at his father. “You do realize that Gabriel will not stop until he has uncovered the whole truth,”

Jacob nodded, a severe look on his face tempered only by the smallest of smirks that touched his lips: his youngest son had always been an inquisitive child, always ready to question everything and everyone, already ready to discover the world around him before he was even able to stand and walk by himself. He couldn’t contain a chuckle.

“Your brother’s too smart for his own good.”

Emmett smirked. “I’d have said he's too nosy, always poking his nose around in matters that don’t concern him,”

They stood silent for a moment, just taking in the cold winter air that prickled their cheeks.

“Are you worried about Mother?” he asked.

The older man nodded, his heart trembling in his chest. He was grateful Emmett couldn't see the disquiet he felt within.

“Your mother is one of the most resilient people I know. She was never afraid of the consequences that her choices would bring, always ready to face ‘em regardless of the toll they would take on her...But I know her heart would break if any of you were to look at her any differently than you’re doing now. ”

Before Jacob could stop himself, his memory brought him back forty years in the past.

The Templars.

The Assassins.

That ridiculous, futile war that nearly tore the city - and his own heart- apart.

The things he had been forced to do - no, he had chosen to do.

The thing his wife had done, to protect him and to keep the power in her hands in order to make the world a better place for their family and the people of London.

All the people they both had loved and lost in that conflict, their faces never to grace them with their smile ever again.

He shuddered, closing his good eye, as his whole body threatened to bring him back of fourty years, twenty years, in those nights where he had almost lost first his wife, then his children.

But Emmett’s reassuring hand against his arm gently brought him back to the present, as he felt his son caressing his shoulder in the kindest of gesture.

Even as a child, his eldest was always ready to bring him comfort.

Jacob turned to look at him and smiled wide, his eye twinkling with a soft loving light, as he patted his son's freckled cheek affectionately.

“It’s uncanny how much you resemble your mother and your grandfather,” he murmured, not unkindly. Emmett chuckled at that.

“Almost ironic, I have been told,”

“Almost.”

Trying to find the courage within himself, Jacob took out the daguerreotype from his pocket and take a look at it once more, pausing on the face of the man that stood imperious and just as solemn as the young woman sitting in front of him.

Crawford Starrick's eyes -immutable, inquisitive, unforgiving - were staring straight into his soul, his gaze that of a man who knew he had London in the palm of his hand; a man who knew that, soon enough, he would have the entire known world as well.

Those icy eyes had been rendered blind by death more than four decades ago.

Yet, Jacob thought, as he raised his eye to look into his son's, that same gaze of pure steel lived on in the beautiful face of his adored son, in an absurd twist of fate,

And more importantly, he saw it every day when he stared into the irises of the woman he loved more than life itself.

The eyes of his wife.

The eyes of Dorothea Marianne Starrick.

[NEXT CHAPTER - "Echoes of The Past"]

So, I have decided to upload the first chapter of my fan fiction, "In the Heat of the Moment", here on Tumblr as well. I uploaded on March on AO3, but I decided to upload it here too!

I hope you will like it! Please, do forgive any mistake you might find: i don't have any beta reader, and as much as I am proficient in English, I am not mothertongue, so I might make some mistakes!

Also, soon I will post Chapter 2 as well!

As always, a huge thanks to all my friends and mutuals who always support me in this, who have been with me for all this time and gave me the strength to actually post it!! I will be forever grateful for all the love and support shown to me and Dorothea and the Starrick-Frye children

--Nemo

#Assassin's Creed Syndicate #Jacob Frye #Dorothea Starrick #Crawford Starrick #Emmett Starrick-Frye #Gabriel Starrick-Frye #Eva Starrick-Frye #the starrick-frye bunch #my ocs #Jottie #Nemo Writes #my writing #In the Heat of the Moment

41 notes · View notes