Hello, people! Happy Monday to you from Mexico!
Ok, I bring to you the English version (and maybe better than the original...) of another fic of mine named "Reflexiones", that is a rare crossover of Assassin's Creed x Tintin... The second one of that kind, being exact. I wrote the first one, "Memorias", on my language mother, the Spanish. Now, I will explain a little bit about this fic: I'm writting a crossover of Assassin's Creed and South Park on Spanish called "Assassin's Creed: Ángeles Exterminadores" (AC: Terminator Angels or something like that), which principal charachter are Butters (yes, the innocent and cute Butters; please, don't hang me for that!), who, in the story, is Desmond's nephew and descendant of Altair, Ezio and Connor.
The crossover in question is on its second season, on where I'm introducing Tintin as Butters' ancestor for his maternal bloodline (sounds weird, stupid and out of place, but it's my story-); include, I gave him a name (instead that Hergé never gave tou us, the fans, at last a little clue about his family and his real name): Valentine Léroux Ynigov, son of Belgian father and Roumanian Mother, both Assassins, whom died murdered on the forest the same day that he born (so cruel, but I don't have any more idea).
This fic is a kind of spin off of an OC of my creation who will have a kind of paper on Tintin's life: Rita Egger. She's Tintin's wife and Apprentice and mother of his 3? 4? 5? children.
Maybe the second season would become on a crossover fic apart or maybe not...
Well, farther that this translation would be suck and that maybe you, the Native speaker, would not understand at all, I disclaim that Assassin's Creed and Tintin DON'T BELONG TO ME (so sad... T.T), THOSE BELONG TO UBISOF AND MOULINSART EDITORIAL respectively.
I hope you can enjoy it!
Hugs from Mexico!
Vicka.
Reflections.
When I look at you sleeping by my side, I'm beginning to think in how we have known, in how we have rediscovered and, above all, in how we've survived on that deserted island that witnessed the birth of our children and our love, and your memory loss that seemed to be permanent until you defended to me from those men who tried to abuse me using your assassin skills. Was in that moment that you recovered your memory and we were able to leave the island.
Even now, while I'm here sitting with you in this marital bed under cover of the darkness of the night, I begin to reflect what would have been of us if we had not rediscovered at the party that the Mayor of New York had offered in your honor after of defeated Al Capone and his gang.
Ah! How beautiful memories of that night were those! I remember when you told me that I can have the Medallion that you tought lost when you faced that kids gang in Bucharest, where you lived in the orphanage. How forget that day, if it was the day that we met? How I can forget that you protect to me on my way to the hotel where my family was staying from the rooftops of the city?
I knew that I was observed for some angel from who knows where... And this angel were you, the boy with a debile appearance and strong fists... The man who, as the Mentor of the Assassins, was directing an entire army of warriors in pursuit of the freedom of the human being... The man who, in a single stroke, could kill 20 guys...
The man who, just 15 years ago, on that day, in that plane, in the midst of heaven, have tried to save his life and that same army, turning myself into an anonymous key informant that prevented the Templars' next movement, as well as I had the knowing of their most terrible enemies, the same person that you have been dated in full flight to warn you of the most malicious plans that they were planning under the protection of the Governments.
Ah, Valentine... My Valentine... My Tintin... I swear that, if I have not been on that plane, perhaps I would be near hell himself, I would be dying. Dying of sadness, anxiety and even pain if I lose you... And even think that it could be that Martine Vandezande's fault.
I know that she was your first love, the love of women with which you thought you were going to get married... If she hadn't betrayed you at giving you back, that she, in pursuit of the goddanm art, sacrificed the beautiful feeling that you felt for her first and now for me.
Haddock told me once that I wasn't as Martine and that make him so glad. I must admit that at the beginning I did not know what was the comment of your friend until, at the same time, he told me about her betrayal in the name of her love for the art, that she has been stopped carried away by the promise of the Templars that could be highly recommended in the main galleries in Brussels if she spoke about your location and activities in the Brotherhood.
You don't know the bittersweet taste that I felt on my lips at that time and that, far away from offending me yet, had left me in the most horrible anxiety to think that you could come back to her arms. However, my thought was completely wrong, and I am pleased because you're right here and right now in my arms, sleeping quietly, without worrying about another thing than I, our children or our brothers and sisters of the Brotherhood,
In this moment I realized something: Maybe I will not be Martine Vandizande, but I will never betray you and I will never sacrifice our family and it's stability in the name of ephimeral things which, although I covet, could bring to me more disgraces and woes than benefits and blessings. I will never give back or abandon to you in every fight that you would have altough you need to ask loudly.
No...
I, Rita Léroux - Egger, will stand here by your side, alive or dead. I will be here in the good and the bad. I will be here for our love and our children.
I will be here because I'm your Rita Egger, your wife, your lover, your friend and your Apprentice, and you're my Valentine Léroux Ynigov, my husband, my lover, my friend, my Assassin, my Mentor...
My Tintin.