A Paige in an Assassin's Book
First, I apologize for taking so long to write this, I wanted to finish it in completely before putting anything online. I do not own any Assassin's Creed characters, places, etc.
When Connor is injured a young Bostonian woman comes to his aid, but something else comes with her…
The afternoon was still damp and dripping from the three day onslaught of rain and wind and the sun seemed to glare harshly on Boston as though punishing it for the retreating clouds and general bad weather. The clatter of horse hooves on the pavement and the gentle clicking of human shoes was a welcome sound compared to the angry rumbling of thunder that had plagued the city for the past few days. People seemed to shield their eyes and shrink from the brightness, as though they had spent a lifetime hiding in darkness. Children ran happily from puddle to puddle as dogs barked in harmony to their innocent laughter. Paige lifted the hem of her dress to avoid the splashes caused by the playful children and the numerous wagons that filled the streets, their riders shouting about deliveries and apologizing for delays. She wound her way through the throngs of people filling the lanes and avenues, finally free of their temporary weather-induced imprisonment. She clung protectively to her basket, which contained the money she needed for this morning's purchases. Elizabeth, the woman she lived with, had been wary to let her go out, something about the wildness of the ruffians, liberated from their fever of been cooped up indoors. The supplies she was to obtain were greatly needed though, Elizabeth was married to a doctor and he constantly required herbs Paige could barely pronounce, bottles of strange smelling ointments, and bandages of various lengths and thickness. The man seemed to think he was still on the front lines of the war and wanted to horde as many supplies as possible. She was happy to oblige his whims, since he and his wife were like family to her, having taken her in as a child when she had been robbed of her own parents by a storm at sea. She did not know if she harbored any ill will toward ships since she had never been on one and the thought was far from her mind on this sunlit morning. She rummaged inside the basket, blindly searching for the list the doctor had neatly folded and handed her along with a pouch full of coins. While her hand felt for the paper, her eyes scanned her surroundings, she knew Boston wasn't terribly safe and a young woman alone was an easy target. She relaxed slightly as her fingers found the sheet of items she was to acquire and her eyes targeted the general store. She hastily weaved through the thick webs of people and was able to stumble inside the store, slipping on a wet board. The owner of the establishment quickly assisted her inside; proffering apologies to one of his best customers. The woman behind the counter greeted her in a familiar manner and thankfully was able to produce everything on Paige's list. She didn't want to have to go to another store in town, and she knew this place went out of their way to offer their clients hard to find items. Filling her basket with her goods, Paige thanked the owner and politely declined an invitation for tea, explaining that she really needed to be on her way. As she made her way through the muddy streets suddenly she was knocked off her feet and thrown into a wagon wheel sludge filled rut. She sat stewing in the muck for a few seconds, shocked as her assailant continued his rapid stride away from her and his pursuers who were screaming something about a theft. Paige waved her hands trying to shake the mud from her clothing, when a pair of boots appeared next to her. A solider stood to her left and offered a helping hand, which she gratefully took. He assisted her into a nearby alley to collect herself and her basket, which was thankfully intact and its contents safe. As he leaned his rifle on the brick wall of the building they stood next to, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began mopping the mud from her shoes and bottom of her dress. He discarded the filthy cloth and while her attention was still on plucking chucks of grime from her waist, he pressed her against the building and clamped his hand over her mouth. She struggled to free herself from the vise of his palm as he held her head in place. He reeked of drink and his rotting teeth peeked between his cracked lips as he gave her a drunk-induced smirk. She wanted to gag from the stench. Paige's eyes darted to the entrance of the alley, but the human traffic was so dense that no one paid any head to her plight. The other side of her confinement was littered with waste and what looked to be a still homeless man, passed out from probably too much enjoyment that the night before had given him. The solider leered at her, seeing her eyes plead the emptiness of the alley for help. He snatched the fold of her dress and began to inch his other hand underneath when a voice caused his eyes to widen.
"I do not think you want to do that…" The voice sounded strained and Paige realized that the vagrant that she saw lying in the trash was no longer there.
"Oh is that right?" The solider replied his words slurred, giving her a wink of confidence as he began to turn around. He never finished his movement, for the beggar's arms encircled his head and neck and forced the solider to the ground, silencing him. Paige's savoir remained on his hands and knees, his breathing sounding labored. She stood terrified that this man might turn on her, until she studied him closer. Dressed in a mud smeared white coat, with a bow and empty quiver on his back, she knew from being around a doctor most of her life that this man was injured. He wore a hood on his bent head so she had to kneel near him to see his face. His mouth was twisted in a grimace of pain and she immediately thought her would-be attacker had wounded him somehow. She gently placed her hand upon his shoulder and gave him a quick visual scan for any blood and there, dripping onto the unconscious solider her rescuer's life slowly mixed with the swamp of mud and refuse in the alley. He feebly, tried to push her away, but she would not budge.
"Sir, you are injured let me help you as you have helped me." She spoke softly, taking a gentle but firm hold of his arm. His answer was another exhausted shove, which Paige ignored.
"Please, I am in the employment of a doctor and I know the backstreets well. I can assist you in getting there, quickly and quietly." She waited for him to try and goad her away again, but he turned his head slightly in her direction and nodded limply. She staggered under his weight as she assisted him to his feet. He clung to the alley wall, doubting his legs. Plucking her basket from the mire, with the added burden of her savior, Paige tread through the backstreets of Boston to the place she called home. The path emptied before her of people who wanted nothing to do with a filthy young woman and an injured man. Those who lingered to stare gave them a wide berth. No one approached the duo offering aid, which did not surprise Paige since she was sure they looked and smelled terrible. His weight seemed to grow as they continued the slow shuffle toward the house and her arduous breathing began to echo his. She gave him a worried glance but only saw his mouth, his teeth clenched against the pain.
"We are almost there…" She stated trying to sound reassuring, but it escaped her mouth as a strangled gasp. She began to feel the trickle of sweat as it ran down her chest. She was sure her back was already soaked but all she could feel was the load of the man she was trying to help. She blinked grime and sweat from her eyes, wishing she could arrive at her destination sooner to deliver the man into the hands of the doctor. Each heavy step she took he emitted a suppressed moan. The exertion of almost carrying him made walking difficult, if their unsteady gait could be called walking. When Paige spotted the home, its roof towering over the houses next to it, she forced her body to hasten its steps, earning a pain-riddled groan from her partner. The neighbors gave her questioning stares as she eased the man near the back steps. He slumped against the side of house, his chin pulling his head to rest against his chest. She paused to be sure he wasn't going to completely fall over and satisfied that he wasn't going to topple, she rushed into the home, ignoring the stiff protests of her body. As she bolted into the kitchen, the cook screamed in alarm not recognizing the girl being covered in filth as she was.
"Molly! It is me, Paige, where is the doctor, please tell me he is here." She sputtered, rushing to catch her breath. Her heart thundered in her chest as panic took over.
"Sweet Lord, Paige! You gave me a terrible scare. What happened to you dear, you look horrid." Molly answered relaxing enough to approach the young woman, but she quickly backed away when the smell slapped her across the face.
"What in the world is the ruckus? Paige?!" The mistress of household arrived in the kitchen in a flurry of unpinned hair and an air of ruffled feathers. She turned up her nose at the sight of her ward.
"Miss Elizabeth, I was attacked and a man saved me but he is wounded…I brought him home he is outside on the steps." The explanation spilled from her mouth in a waterfall of words. She stood in the kitchen, her clothes leaking water mixed with sweat and mud, waiting for the shock the two other women gave her to wear off. As her declaration soaked in, Elizabeth sprung into action.
"Gerald! Gerald! We have a wounded man down here!" Elizabeth bellowed as she sprinted into the hallway and continuing shouting from the bottom of the stairs. Molly rushed into the room connected the kitchen which was used as a sick room for rare instances such as these. Paige could hear her clanking bottles and setting up the doctor's instruments and tools. Gerald and Elizabeth were exchanging hurried words as the two of them dashed into the kitchen.
"Paige, are you unharmed?" Gerald asked taking hold of her shoulders when he saw the state she and her clothes were in. When she nodded he looked around, presumably for the man.
"He is outside." Paige answered, gulping, fearing he might have wandered off or maybe even have died. Gerald carefully opened the backdoor and his hushed voice could be heard as he spoke to the man.
"Open the door!" He stated and Paige rushed to comply as Elizabeth stood transfixed her hands covering her mouth and fingers trembling in a fearful agitation. Gerald was helping the wounded man through the open door and into the sick room. Paige trailed behind as she watched Gerald ease the man onto one of the cots.
"Molly, help me remove his weapons and clothes. Elizabeth, get me some water and clean towels." He instructed the cook and his wife as he took control of the situation. Paige watched as the women complied with his commands. Gerald held the man upright as his weapons were removed from his person and then maneuvered his wilted form unto his back. The man replied with a soft groan as Gerald began to open his shirt. Paige could see the blood from where she stood in the doorway as Elizabeth glided past her with an armful of towels. As Gerald parted the man's shirt he grabbed a towel and pressed it firmly into the wound on the man's side. The man protested again, this time weakly trying to sit up and grab Gerald's hand.
"Stop…." He mumbled as Gerald tried to calm him.
"Easy son, you are going to be fine. I'm a doctor, try to relax. Molly, fetch the alcohol." The cook seemed more than happy to leave the room and she drifted past Elizabeth who bore a large bowl of water.
"Gerald…" She offered the water as she watched her husband treating the wounded man. He lifted the towel to see how much blood flow was escaping the wound. He nodded seeing that it was not a flood that the severity of the injury hinted at.
"Get that hood off of and start cleaning this muck off of him." He directed his wife as Molly wobbled into the room, her arms laden with bottles. In a huff, she unloaded the alcohol onto the floor by the doctor's feet, raising quite the clamor.
"My apologies sir." She mumbled, scrambling to stop some of the bottles from rolling underneath the cot. She grabbed one of the containers and popped it open, handing the open bottle into Gerald's waiting hand.
"Hold him…" Gerald warned the women as he gathered the bloodied towel in his hand and poured the fluid into the wound with the other. Elizabeth grasped the man's arm and leg as Molly took a firm hold of his shoulders. The man's shriek exploded in the room, causing Paige to cover her ears in terror. She watched as he fought against the women holding him down, but weakened as he was, it was not difficult to keep him pinned to the cot. As the doctor dispensed more alcohol into the wound, the man's cries softly ebbed away as he lost consciousness. Seeing that she would get no more resistance, Elizabeth gently pushed his hood from his face and began to clean the dirt that had begun to cake his features.
"Gerald, he is feverish." The doctor stood up and leaned over the man's face and felt his forehead and then his cheek. Paige watched as he gently pressed two of his fingers into the man's neck. As Gerald shifted back to caring for the wound, she looked closer at his face…her eyes widened in alarm…he had the features of a native. She took a few steps away from the doorway, drawing the attention of the others.
"Keep a cool towel to his forehead. Paige, you are still there? Molly, help her get out of those clothes." Gerald said as he focused on his patient. Molly clasped Paige's hands and dragged her away from the sick room, closing the door behind her.
"Let's leave the doctor to his work and get you out of those wet clothes before you find yourself in there as well." In a daze she allowed Molly to lead her upstairs to change and wash the grime from her body. As Molly left her to soak in the tub, Paige's thoughts took control in the silence of the room. A native! She had helped a native, she was frightened and curious. She had never seen a native this close and almost felt a strange thrill at the situation. Yet, he was not dressed as she would have imagined and he had saved her. She did not know how to feel, but at that moment she was startled and nearly jumped out of the tub when someone knocked on the door.
"Paige? May I come in?" It was Elizabeth. She sighed in relief and tried to still her pounding heart before answering.
"Yes Miss Elizabeth." The woman poked her head around the door as she opened it and smiled as she entered the room.
"How are you dear?" Elizabeth treated Paige like her own child most of the time, but it had been made clear years ago that she was merely the ward of a doctor and his wife. After her parents had died, she had been taken in by the Boston couple who had lost their eldest son in the Seven Years War and their other children were scattered throughout the colonies, Paige had never seen them only occasional letters that gave any proof to their existence. Molly had told her once that Gerald had been old friends with her father and felt obligated to take her in.
"Better, thank you Miss Elizabeth." She lied into the suds that covered her modesty. She lowered her eyes so they would not betray her fib to the older woman.
"That was a kind action you did for that man. He will live thanks to you." Elizabeth stated, pride in her voice for Paige. When she gave no response, Elizabeth verbally prodded her.
"Paige, are you sure you are fine? The man who attacked you didn't hurt you did he?" She asked pulling a chair closer to the tub and waiting for the girl to answer.
"No, he didn't. He touched me… and….and…. I am sure he was going to harm me in some awful way." She saw her vision blue as tears began to drip from her eyes. Elizabeth was suddenly holding her hand and squeezing it tightly.
"I knew you shouldn't have been going out for Gerald. I'll have one of the neighbor boys go instead. Don't fret dear, you are safe now. I will sit with you Paige, Gerald convinced Molly to help him with the young man and you know how squeamish Molly can be." Her last comment brought a soft peal of laughter from Paige who was beginning to feel a bit better now that Elizabeth had calmed her.