This is just a little something to get into the NaNoWriMo swing of things. It's super canon divergent (because I do what I want!) and mostly angsty with a bit of fluff. If you have any thoughts or suggestions please don't hesitate to drop me a line. Hope you enjoy!
I don't own nor do I profit from Assassin's Creed.
Pain flares behind Evie's eyes as she stands from Starrick's rapidly cooling body, tucking the bloodied handkerchief into her belt as she straightens her stiff back. She waits for the sense of accomplishment to thrum in her veins, the pride at having rid London of the nightmare that hovered over their city. But she is merely… tired. Exhausted and battered, nearly broken on the steps of this hidden temple.
But still alive, she reminds herself as she gently runs her fingers along her neck. Evie can still feel the iron grip of Starrick's ghostly finger squeezing around her throat. It is difficult to swallow and there will be dark bruises settling along the tender skin, merely swollen now but a physical reminder to come no doubt.
But still alive, she recites, watching her brother rub his hands up and down his arms in a methodical self-soothing gesture. An effort to ease the painful stiffness that locked his joints after every electric assault from the now dormant alter. The same pain that zips through her muscles before settling like a fever. They're both making unconscious jerking gestures to dispel the excess electric energy. It would be comical in any other scenario but for now it is toeing the line of pathetic.
But still alive, she hesitantly smiles at her brother and her spirits lift when he returns the gesture. Evie is overcome with the urge to apologize, for everything, but the regrets and hurt swirl so quickly through her mind that she finds it impossible to form the right words. Instead Jacob opens his mouth to speak and she braces herself for the dismissive joke or taunt, she's too tired to reciprocate the humor right now.
"I've missed you," is what she gets instead and Evie treasures the simple honesty.
"I've missed you too." She returns. Their matching grins widen and the uncomfortable knot that has twisted in her stomach with each of their diverged missions begins to loosen. The relief she had been waiting for after Starrick's death finally settles in her mind.
She's too distracted by their unspoken apologies. The sudden horror that spreads across Jacobs face does not register at first. She catalogs the way her brother stares behind her, eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open. For once his restless limbs are still.
Her heart freezes in response, or perhaps it stops altogether. At the back of her mind she knows why he would look so remorseful but she does not want to accept it. She does not turn to reaffirm her desperate fears. She stands unmoving like the still air of this frigid tomb, because if she does not acknowledge it then perhaps there is a chance that her world isn't about to come crashing around her shoulders.
Evie watches as Jacob's eyes shift back to hers, regret and sympathy twisting his features. This is what finally compels her to move – she's always hated being pitied.
Because of the gravity of the situation she expected the sight to greet her when she finally glances back to be so much more. Perhaps mangled and tragic enough to warrant the shards of anguish shooting through her heart.
Instead it's almost anticlimactic. Just another body, she see's bodies everyday. It's something of an occupational hazard.
Unconsciously her feet begin to slowly drag themselves along, tripping over uneven stones as her shoulders brush against loosened cobwebs still floating lazily in the air. It doesn't take nearly as long as she thought it would to reach him.
Evie remembers screaming his name after he'd been tossed to the side, landing awkwardly on his head. He'd appeared so suddenly to defend the twins she'd half suspected his appearance had been nothing more than delusion caused by the exhaustion of battle. But here he lay, no blood, no open wounds. He could almost be asleep if it weren't for the unnatural angle of his neck. Evie couldn't ignore that tell-tale sign.
"Henry…" she chokes out in a harsh whisper, ignoring the way her limbs scream in protest as she kneels at his side. He was supposed to be on the train or at his shop or anywhere else in London as long as it wasn't in this god-forsaken crypt. How was she supposed to keep him safe otherwise?
With shaky hands she begins to remove her gloves, growling in frustration as the leather catches on her knuckles. She just want's to touch him, half hoping he'll disappear under her fingertips and she'll find him again waiting for her on a rooftop somewhere and he'll laugh with her as they blush and stutter around actually revealing their feelings; but this time she'll be brave enough to…
Her liberated fingers finally brush against his forehead, smoothing back a wayward lock of hair. His face is lax and void of any emotion. This fact alone is what finally cements the reality in her mind.
Henry Green is dead.
Evie does not wail or cry out in anger, nor does she beat her fists against the ground until they are as visibly raw and torn as she feels inside. Instead she gathers him into her arms and rests her head against his temple. Her silent tears of anguish and regret land on his cheeks.
She had so many things she wanted to tell him. How sorry she was for pushing him away and how an afternoon kidnapping dignitaries with an exiled maharajah made her truly realize that falling in love with him was not the ultimate betrayal to her father or the order. That he was comfortable and sweet and so many other things that she didn't ever think she'd want because it was weakness but she realized that she was wrong.
But it felt pointless to speak these truths to a chamber full of ghosts. The only set of listening ears belonging to her brother, who she could sense hovering somewhere behind her. She knew he was uneasy, probably didn't know how to handle a sister who could shatter like glass if he pushed too hard or too soon.
"Evie?" his hesitant voice breaks through the heavy silence. With a sigh she tilts her head to the side to indicate she's listening but makes no other movement. She just wanted to be left in peace, but Jacob would never desert her while she was vulnerable. Instead she hears his movements as he shuffles closer, listens to his groan as he settles himself on the stony floor. In response she tightens her hold on Henry, tucking his head against the crook of her neck so she could turn to address her brother.
A flash of gold catches her attention first and then the hesitant look on Jacob's face. Her stomach immediately rolls with unease.
"Jacob-" she draws his name out before he abruptly cuts her off.
"If it worked for Starrick, then maybe it would work for Mr. Green as well." He argues, thrusting the Shroud closer. She nearly falls back in her haste to push it away.
"Starrick was recovering from wounds, he was not resurrected. There's a difference, the Shroud doesn't bring back the dead." She counters.
"Do you know that for sure?" If this were any other situation he'd have already fixed her with a smug look.
"No, but I-"
"Evie, come on, isn't it at least worth a try?" He asks this question with such patience it makes her want to escape. He knows exactly why she's fighting this. Why she isn't immediately jumping at a second chance.
"The precursor artifacts are too powerful, too unpredictable. They must be retrieved and kept safe from those who would exploit them. They must never be used…" Her fathers voice chants in her head. The words swirling and stabbing into her conscience. "They must never be used…"
She had spent her whole life trying to please him. To be the perfect assassin, the antithesis to her brothers wild and abrupt nature. And she'd damn well nearly succeeded, with a few mistakes here and there. Her father would not approve and she was nothing if not his daughter.
"We're not supposed to use them." She expects him to scoff or argue. Call her names and taunt her for her stubborn ways. Instead he drops the Shroud into his lap and grips her arm gently in his free hand.
"I won't tell if you won't." He says nothing more, only rubs her shoulder soothingly and leans back to await her decision.
Evie could do the right thing. She could mourn Henry and move on, continue as the assassin her father wanted her to be. She wouldn't be completely alone, her brother would still be there and she'd lead a life of quiet content in the knowledge that she would have made her father proud of her decisions.
Her father who had been a different man before his wife had died. A man who had loved fiercely before it was stolen away in a single night by his own children.
What right did she have to a second chance?
Yet there it lay sprawled across her brothers legs, shimmering faintly. Her fathers words were growing louder in her mind, vibrating against her skull. She was an assassin and she was meant to protect the world from this warped power. No matter how twisted and broken the decision left her."They must never be used…"
"Jacob I don't think-" she starts to release Henry from her grasp. To lay him back on the ground so she can compose herself before they start planning how to get both his and Starrick's body back to higher ground.
But she can't let go. Her arms refuse to unwind from around his shoulders and she heaves a single sob into his hair. If he were alive he would have held her back and whispered soothingly into her ear as he traced simple patterns along her spine. She suddenly craves that affection like nothing she's ever wanted before.
Evie does not want to be the unselfish and unmoving paragon of the creed. She does not want to live a merely content life, she wants to live a full one. She wants more than just to watch her brother thrive while she remains stunted in the shadows.
For the first time in her life she does not want to become her father.
That single thought has her sobbing harder, nearly tilting back from exhaustion and disappointment in herself. Jacob is there in an instant easing her against his side.
"All you have to do is nod Eve's and I'll take care of the rest." And so she does.
She watches the Shroud flash for a moment before clenching her eyes shut, but she can still feel it's unnatural warmth settle against her cheek. Reluctantly she loosens her hold on Henry so Jacob can finish wrapping the cloth around his neck like a morbid sort of scarf.
She had almost expected it to take affect immediately, that she'd open her eyes and he'd be looking back at her, smiling in his shy sort of way before brushing the tears from her cheeks.
Instead he is still and the Shroud lays dormant. Out of the corner of her eye she notices Jacob ducking his head remorsefully and she knows they are sharing the same thought.
It wasn't going to work.
This almost hurts more than losing him the first time. All the hope was gone and she would have to resign herself to the fact that she was going to become exactly what she had wanted to shirk off moments before.
Evie leans down to brush a kiss against Henry's temple, her lips linger for a moment longer than necessary. This time when she moves to release him her arms comply. His body slides easily to the ground without her support. The Shroud flashes briefly at the movement before she turns to face her brother.
He's already standing, a hand outstretched to help her to her feet and she grabs at it gratefully. He hauls her up and slings an arm around her shoulders to support her weight as she leans against him, too tired to make any more effort.
"C'mon, let's get you out of here and then I'll grab some of the boys to help me with the bodies." She wants to argue, insist that she should stay with Henry until someone else could keep a vigil. But the dead don't need company. Instead she nods silently and moves with Jacob's guidance.
They don't make it far before there is a sickening crunch and snap – like bone settling back into place. Light glows from behind and the twins whirl around, weapons at the ready for whatever surprises the temple decides to throw their way. Instead they are met with the sight of Henry's head lolling to the side with the aid of his decidedly straightened neck.
It was quiet for a moment and Evie is unaware that she's holding her breath until she releases it in an astonished huff at witnessing Henry take his own. Suddenly his eyes snap open and he lets out an anguished groan.
The sound is enough the break the siblings from their shocked state. They rush over as Henry arches off the stone, hands tugging weakly at the shroud. Jacob launches himself at Henry's arms, pinning them to each side as Evie slides to her knees.
"We have to get him to a doctor!" she exclaims and Jacob nods his agreement. They quickly work around each other to get him up but any attempts to move him result in his persistent moans to morph into shouts of pain, the sound tears at her heart.
"This isn't working Evie, we're just making it worse. I say we give it a moment and let the Shroud do it's work." She wants to protest. She can't stand seeing him suffer like this but her brother is right. He must sense her agreement because he releases Henry's arms and moves to tuck the Shroud tighter against the other mans neck. Henry doesn't flail quite as strongly as before."See? Already making progress, it must just be some nasty business coming back from the dead."
He grins at Evie but she doesn't return it. Instead she watches Henry, afraid that if she so much as blinks all his progress will be lost and she will be left with his broken shell. His moans have turned into whimpers and she can no longer hear the snapping and shifting of muscle and sinew repairing itself.
The process is slow going however and eventually Evie settles for lying on her side so she can easily run her fingers through his hair, the only gesture that doesn't seem to agitate him. Jacob has moved away to study the alter while they wait. She glances over to make sure he isn't paying attention before she tilts her face closer to Henry's.
Softly, gently she begins murmuring in his ear. Revealing all of the truths she had wanted to confess earlier while she held nothing but a corpse in her arms. Now she matches her breathing to his as it begins slowing to deeper inhales and extended exhales. Proof that he is alive with her. She continues to talk while he heals and it feels like days have passed but she realizes it can't possibly be that long, Jacob could only pretend to study ancient symbols for so long.
Until finally.
"Miss Frye? Evie?" Its a gasping sound, all scratched and worn out. But she treasures it, just as she treasures his squinting eyes and grimaced expression. "Forgive me but I can't quite remember…"
He pushes himself to a sitting position with Evie's assistance and she refuses to release him but he seems content enough to settle against her. Hesitantly he works at releasing the Shroud from around his neck and this time she does not move to stop him.
Henry stares at it for a long moment. Evie supposes that he must know exactly what its location on his person must mean. But he says nothing, simply lets it fall to his lap and glances at her guiltily. He reaches for her hand and grasps it tightly in his own.
"I'm sorry." She doesn't have time to reassure him before he's speaking again. "Did I ruin the mission?" Evie isn't sure if she'd rather laugh or cry at his worry.
"Henry you saved it." She breathes. She has a moment to catch his pleasantly surprised look before she is pressing her lips to his own. They are warm and responsive; and if she tilts her head just so, the tug and slide causes warmth to pool in her stomach. She is absolutely positive that she could spend a fair amount of time down here exploring the different reactions she can coax from his kisses.
Instead there is an amused clearing of a throat and Evie pulls back to glare playfully at her brother. Jacob merely shrugs before reaching down to snatch up the Shroud from where it had landed in a glittering heap. Without so much as a raised eyebrow, he turns away to give the both of them some distance. Evie finds this a rather uncharacteristically kind gesture on her brothers part and figures it was his way of saying that he was also pleased with the way things had turned out.
Henry shifts slightly in her arms and it draws her attention back to it's previous host. She doesn't fight the grin that threatens to split her faces as she leans forward to press a brief kiss to his waiting lips "I think you belong in the field with me."