Love and Liberty

An Assassin's Creed: Liberation fan fiction

I own nothing connected to this awesome game, or Ubisoft, for that matter

Chapter 1

Well, I'll be damned, you found my journal.

Well, good for you, whoever you are.

If you're a Templar, go to hell.

If you are an Assassin, I salute you.

My name is Gabriel, Gabriel Richards, and I am an Assassin.

I was born and bred in the city of Pittsburgh, born in the year of 1995. Which makes the fact that I have resided in the eighteenth century kinda interesting.

I know what yinz (actually, we say it like 'yuz,' but people think it's the former in actual spelling) are thinking: 'Somebody hasn't been taking his meds,' but it's the God's honest truth.

How I got there will take some time explaining, so I'll get started.

I was raised on a Farm on the outskirts of Pittsburgh. My parents, Donna and Michael, were also Assassins.

Donna, who I inherited my green eyes and round face from, was the sort of stereotypical mom: a loving woman, a top-notch cook, and she stayed at home most of the time. She was tall, slender, and her hair was auburn and shoulder length, and she was very energetic, hating any laziness of any kind. Cheerful and positive, she very rarely held a grudge against anyone, except for the Templars, of course. Like me, she had a dry, sometimes sardonic humor, who could hold her ground in any argument, whatever political or religious content it might have had.

My Dad, Michael, was tall and thin, with dark brown hair (which I inherited) that was balding, a pointed face with an aquiline nose, and had dark green eyes. He was a calm, almost cold man who was never one to back off from a fight. My Dad and I shared a love of the outdoors, an independent streak a mile wide, a hatred of the Templars (usually the authorites), and we both loved rooting for the Steelers. My father taught me how to fight and blend in, while my mother taught me how to be useful and helpful to those around me.

I was the best Assassin on the Farm in my age group. Size (around six feet), strength, speed, whatever.

Was I arrogant? Your guess is as good as mine. All I was interested in was being the best, and staying alive, of course.

I got along fine with others, staying respectful of my elders, and supportive or protective of those younger than me, but I liked my solitude more than the crowds.

Soon, We were sent to the actual city itself, as was commonly the case for most Assassins. My father got a job as a metal worker, while my mom stayed at home. We bought an apartment in the inner city, near Point Breeze.

By the time I was sixteen, I already had half a dozen assassinations under my belt.

The most memorable one happened at Heinz Field, when the Steelers were playing the Cowboys, although I can't pinpoint the particular date. I was on one of the walkways, and I had to preform an Assassination on a Templar when he was trying to make his way back to his seat at half-time. The fact that I wasn't caught, and that the Templar was a Cowboys fan, made it even better! Touchdown!

My first brush with an Apple of Eden was, ironically, my last one in my era.

It wasn't my fault, I swear! Ok, maybe I shouldn't of touched the freaking Apple of Eden, but the Templar dropped it, so naturally I had to pick it up!

But I'm getting ahead of myself, something I often did, so deal with it!

I had been sent to the Carnegie Museum of Art by my Dad, who had gotten a tip from one of the head honchos. It was midnight, and the museum was closed.

I wore a black Assassin hoodie, black steel-toed boots, and a Hidden Blade on my right forearm.

"This is it, son. Give them the cold steel, and come back safe." My Dad said, while Mom gave me a long hug. If I had known that I would never see them again...well, you know. I don't like to think about it, as it still hurts too much to think about, let alone write about.

I slipped by the guards, who would have spotted me if they had been more attentive, and made my way up the large, rectangle-like building, and positioned myself just above the entrance.

A few minutes later, an armored car bearing the Abstergo sign parked on the sidewalk next to the entrance, and a dark-haired middle-aged guy exited, carrying a small box in his hands.

I waited until he was a few steps from the entrance, and then I dropped, preforming a text-book example air assassination. Dead before he hit the ground, the man was flattened as well as skewered by yours truly.

What I didn't expect was a golden sphere come bouncing out of the box the suit was carrying.

It was an Apple of Eden! What the heck was this guy doing with this in the middle of fracking Pittsburgh?

Before I could find out, I dived on the Apple, taking it into my hands.

A car-horn blared, and I had a split-second realization that I had dived into the street after the Apple, right in front of an oncoming SUV!

I never got the chance to move.

A white flash filled my vision, and I yelled as pain swept through my body as I was thrown into the air, and then blacked out from the pain.

When I woke up, I was surrounded by a field of shimmering black space. I frowned, starring into the nothingness that I was in. "Where the hell am I?"

A voice answered him, one with a noticeable southern-American accent. "Easy, kid. Just hear me out."

A tall man materialized in front of me. He had a strong body, red hair, grey eyes, and wore clothing that harkened back to the Middle Ages, including Assassin markings, especially the hood. "I'm Arthur Auditore, and I'm here to help you...fit into your duties."

I frowned at him. "All right, Redneck, where the hell am I?"

Arthur growled at the boy's insolence, but answered truthfully. "You are neither dead nor alive. You are between the natural and the spiritual world, but my master is sending you back to the natural world, and she told me to be your guardian."

I frowned at him. "Bullshit. I'm not interested."

Arthur sighed, and gestured to a bench that had materialized out of nowhere. "Take a seat."

I didn't move, but I did reply. "What are you, Date-Line Chris Hansen? I'm not fucking interested!"

Arthur's voice became less polite. "Sit your ass down, or I'll make sit you down!"

I did what I was told, reluctantly.

Arthur proceeded to tell me his own time traveling story, finishing with telling him about Juno's instructions of looking after future time travelers.

"That's one hell of a story. I'd be calling you a liar if it wasn't for the light show around us," I said, having little choice but to believe the West Virginian-turned Italian.

"Much obliged, kid."

After a short pause, I sighed. "So, what does this Juno want with me?"

Arthur cleared his throat, and laid his hand gently on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, son, but you cannot go back to where you were. That life is over. She wants you to go to New Orleans, and help out a fellow Assassin named Aveline de Grandpre. Find her, and keep her safe. I'll be keeping watch over you, so you just worry about your end of the bargain."

I whistled. "Damn, New Orleans? That's pretty far down south!"

Arthur shrugged. "I know, but I don't give the orders. Sorry about that."

I frowned. There was something he wasn't telling me. "Is there a catch to this?"

Arthur sighed. "I wish there wasn't. You'll be starting out in 1765 AD. Now, before you spout off," He warned, as I opened my mouth to tell him what Juno could do with her job. "She wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't ready for it. Besides, Aveline's your age."

The second sentence piqued my interest. "Is she single?"

Arthur shrugged. "You'll find out, won't you?"

I nodded. "And my parents?"

Arthur smiled. "You'll see them again-" A woman's voice cut through the rest of his assurances. "Arthur, supper is ready, so come eat it or wear it!"

Arthur winced. "My wife is calling. See you soon, sonny, and good luck."

Before I could reply, everything faded away, and was replaced by the sight of Bourbon Street in the mid-day sun.

At least, I think it was Bourbon Street.

It was pretty similar to the street that my Mom and Dad had taken me to during a vacation when I was a kid, but now everything was made of wood and stone, and there were was no modern-looking stuff around me.

You don't forget sights like Bourbon Street in a hurry, but the fact that hardly anything except the shape of the street put a whole new spin on things!

I looked down at myself, and found that I was wearing the same clothes, but the pistols in my holsters were no longer there. In their place were two long swords, looking like it belonged in the eighteenth, with thin curved blades, metal handles, and D-shaped hand-guards.

At least I had some kind of weaponry! People dressed in dresses, cloaks, and clothing in various states of repair and disrepair, depending on the class of the wearers.

The more clean and well-made the clothes were, the richer the people were. The Monty Python rule to clothing and class sure fit:

"Who do you know he's a Lord?"

"He hasn't got shit all over him!"

I donned my hood, and looked around. The sun beat down on my head, and I stood in the center of the street, surprised that no one saw a strangely dressed Pennsylvanian appear out of nowhere.

I started to walk down the street, listening to the various conversations around me to gauge the language: Mostly Spanish, some French, a little bit of English. All three were within my ability to speak and understand, thank Juno, or whoever the hell was watching!

I scanned the rooftops for the highest building of the area, needing a birds-eye view of place and to synchron-THUD! I was interrupted midthought by walking straight into the path of a horse-drawn carriage.

"Watch were you are going! I paid good money for this horse!"

After I shook my head to rid myself of the dizziness that accompanied a good collision, I looked up at the driver. He was as fair-haired as I was, had an english accent, and was a short, pock-marked fellow.

It was his cargo that made my heart freeze: less than a dozen African looking people inside a large cage. This man was a slaver!

I was suddenly in no mood to be polite. "I'm sorry, sir, but perhaps if you were better driver, you wouldn't have to worry about me running into you!"

The jerk-off glared at me. "You are very lucky I don't have the time to beat the shite out of you, you little bastard! If I ever see you again, you are a dead man!"

With that, he started the wagon, moving away from me. I, however, like my dad, always got the last word in: "That's right, Sally! Go home crying to Mama, you cross-dressing little bitch! You are lucky I only beat up on people who actually have dicks!"

The wagon stopped abruptly, and the man came toward me, brandishing a sword.

Before he could even make another move, I sprinted forward, slammed my fist into his chest. As he doubled over, I pulled his face down, and knocked him out cold with a knee to his face.

I looked around at the crowd that had gathered around us, and decided to borrow a line from an old movie, "Cool Hand Luke,": "Now, what we've got here is a failure to communicate!"

I didn't have time to enjoy my handiwork before a couple of Spanish-looking (their uniforms weren't Blue French or Red English, but a Yellow color) soldiers carrying muskets came out of nowhere, and started to push through the crowd to get at me.

I turned on my heels, and went like a bat out of hell, weaving and excuse me-ing myself through the crowd, and down the way I had came.

I was in no mood to get caught by a bunch of nancies carrying guns, despite the fact that said guns were notoriously inaccurate. I had no doubt that they knew how to use them!

I cut into a back alley, and thanked whoever was watching over me when I found a stable, and a hay-stack to jump into.

I dived into it, allowing the dumb-ass cops to sprint by.

After a long minute, I felt the hay move as a horse took a bite out of the stack, and I found myself face to muzzle with the beast. "Hello there! Could you help out a guy in trouble by staying hush hush?"

The horse, both ears forward, stared at me for a long moment, but then continued to eat the hay as I pulled myself slowly to my feet, and left the stables, but not before patting the helpful beast on the flank.

With that, I spied a church tower half a mile to the east, and prepared to climb up there to synchronize.

I didn't know that someone was already there.

Aveline de Grandpre was not insane, but when she had seen the black-clothed hooded man appear out of nowhere in the middle of Bourbon Street itself, she began to have doubts.

Not only that, but he beat her target to a pulp in less than five five seconds, and lose the trail of several Spanish soldiers.

All of that began when the man had seen that her target was a slaver, which seemed to anger him, if the stiffening of his movements was anything to go by.

It didn't take a Tromper (Fool) to know that he was no Templar, and only Assassins wore hoods.

With that decided, she dropped on the unsuspecting man, taking him to the ground.

I literally didn't know what hit me. One minute I was about to climb my way up the tall church, the next I was pinned on the ground from above.

I stared in the face of the most gorgeous young woman I had ever seen. She had dark skin, chocolate brown eyes, black braided hair, and a small but perfectly made face. She smelled like an angel, and she wore a blue tri-cornered hat. Her uniform was finely made, and fit perfectly to her slender body.

"Nice of you to drop in, sweetheart!" I said, smiling up at the girl.

"Ferme la bouche (Shut up)! Qui est-ce tu (Who are you)?"

I tried to raise my hands, but she already had them pinned in an exceptionally firm grip. "Parlez vous francais (You speak French)! I know et petit pous (a little bit). My name is Gabriel Richards. Look, as much as I enjoy this, would you mind getting off, and telling me your name?"

Aveline paused, looking down at her prey. He was...handsome, she had to admit. He had a large, round face, a beak-like nose, green eyes, and his chest felt warm and firm under her grip.

His accent was a little bit English, but not very much, which she confused her.

Could she trust him? Maybe, but it was a risk she was willing to take!

After a second, she blushed and helped him to his feet. "My name is Aveline," She said, in a voice heavily accented in French, a low, smoky, sultry purr that sent a shiver down my spine...wait, hold up! "Aveline? Aveline de Grandpre."

The young woman straightened, her head about the height of my shoulders. "Oui. How do you know my name?"

I grinned. "Well, that's a relief! I've been sent by my boss to help you. I work in the dark to serve the Light. I am an Assassin, and according to my boss, so are you!"

Aveline considered me for a long moment, then nodded. I was really relieved at this, as her right hand had been fingering her flint-lock pistol, and I didn't want to find out who could quick-draw faster the hard way. "Sauve moi (Follow me)."

Aveline guided her new friend to her home.

"Wow, you live in this place?" I asked, quite impressed by the roadside mansion. Usually, Assassins were rarely known to be so well off.

She smiled. "Oui, this is my home."

She led me to her front door, then turned to face me. "I don't know how you got into this city, but I will find out, d'accord? If you wish for me to trust you more, I need to hear the truth."

I nodded, and sighed. "I'll tell you the truth, Doll, but you won't believe it."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'll be the judge of that, and never, ever, call me 'Doll' again!"

I raised my hands, fighting back a chuckle. I had learned from previous female Assassins that they could be every bit as formidable as the guys. "All right, all right, keep your shirt on! I'm from Pittsburgh, in Southwest Pennsylvania, born in 1995. I was sent here to help you by Those Who Came Before when I touched an Apple of Eden."

There was a long, long silence. Aveline seemed sure she had misheard, and he started as I searched my own pockets for my Penny. "I'm not surprised you don't believe me. Ah! This should do the trick." I said, finding what I was looking for.

I pulled it out, giving it to her, my fingers grazed her palm, which was warm but callused as well as smooth.

The face of the man on it was someone that she did not recognize, but on the right side, just under the man's face, there were four numbers: "2013."

On the left side was written, or carved: 'Liberty,' and above the man's head: 'In God We Trust.'

"This was minted in the year 2013. The face is that of a man who will rule this country in two hundred years." I said, as she turned the coin to the other side.

Engraved in it's middle was an odd looking building, above it a semicircle row of letters reading "United States of America," and just below this, 'E Pluribus Unum.'

At the bottom of the coin was written: 'One cent.'

I spoke again, talking slowly and clearly. "The United States of America is the name of our country, founded in 1776, and this city will later be the capital city of the state of Louisiana. One cent is one-one hundredths of the American Dollar, and 'E Pluribus Unum' means 'One out of many,' which is our countries motto."

Her voice, sounding small and almost frightened, surprised me. "C'est impossible!"

I shook my head. "It's true, Aveline. God's honest, it is."

After another long moment, she nodded slowly. "But why? Why here, why now?"

I shrugged. "I don't really know. All I know is that I'm supposed to help you."

She tilted her head. "I thought Pennsylvania was in the Northeast, very far away?"

I nodded, grimacing. "Yeah, it is. Look, I don't know how I got here, but I'm here, and I'm here to help you."

After a quick thought, she smiled. "Then I accept whatever help you may offer, Gabriel Richards."

I smiled back. "You won't regret it."

Suddenly, she smirked, and leaned forward, her very kissable lips brushing my left ear. "Maybe I won't, but how do you know that I can't fend for myself?"

I swallowed, fighting to stay cool. "God forbid that I doubt you, after what you did only an hour or two ago."

She stroked my cheek, making me grit my teeth as she pushed back my hood. The urge to pin her against her own door and kiss her brains out was almost overpowering. "Bonne chien (Good dog)! Come in."

With that, she entered her house, leaving me to shake my head and to do as I was told. "This is off the hook! Thank you, Juno!"

Inside the spacious house, we were met by a tall, brown-haired woman. "Bonjour, mon cheri. And who is this young man?" She asked, in accented english, looking at me.

"Bonjour, Maman. This is Gabriel Richards, a visiting mercenary from Pennsylvania."

I bowed low. "Mon pleasure, Madame. I am at your service, and your daughter's."

She smiled warmly at me. "You speak French very well for an Englishman, my dear. It is rare that Aveline brings home a friend, let alone a man your age."

Aveline reddened, and I bowed. "Yes, she and I met, and I decided to stick with her. She's wonderful company, and I don't have anywhere else to go."

The woman huffed, as Aveline reddened further at his compliment. "Yes, well, please make yourself at home. Any friend of my daughter is a friend of mine. You must be quite tired from your long journey."

I nodded. "You are very kind, Madame. It would be a pleasure to do so."

With that, the woman, who I guessed was Aveline's mother, ushered me into a chair at a very clean and expensive-looking table, while Aveline went upstairs, presumably to change. I closed my eyes, aching to follow her, and watch her do so.

As I was helping myself to some much needed water, she reappeared, wearing a green dress with white trappings.

I quickly forgot everything, except my own name...what was it again? I didn't really give a crap.

Damn, she wasn't just sexy, she was fucking gorgeous!

Her tri-cornered hat was traded for a plumed green hat, her hair was curled, and the dress was quite revealing.

Holy crap! wasn't there a frigging law against being so hot?

"Gabriel? Gabriel!" Her voice cut through the haze, and I looked up into her face.

She was smirking. "Close your mouth, Gabriel. It is attracting flies."

I did so, but not before giving my two cents. "Forgive me for seeming a little forward, I mean I realize we've only just met, but I've gotta say: you look beautiful!"

She colored, suddenly shy. "Merci beaucoup (thank you very much), Gabriel."

After a moment of awkward silence, I cleared my throat. "I'm not really used to knowing an Assassin that lives so...comfortably."

She shrugged. "I cannot help what I am."

I raised my hands. "There's nothing wrong with it! I'm just not used to it, that's all."

She nodded. "D'accord, it is understandable."

I returned her nod. "So, what exactly do you do?"

Before she could answer, a middle-aged man entered the room. He was dressed in expensive-looking clothing, wore a blue top-hat, and carried a walking stick in his left hand. His hair was long and grey in a ponytail, his eyes dark, his lined face intelligent and gruff.

"Bonjour, Papa!" Aveline said, running over to kiss his cheek, as I rose swiftly to my feet.

"Bonjour, mon cheri. Ca va(How are you)?"

She shrugged. "Ca va bien (I am well)."

He turned to me next, his eyebrows raised. I bowed politely. "Bonjour, sir. Je m'appelle (My name is) Gabriel Richards, I'm a mercenary from Pennsylvania, at your service."

The man nodded in reply. "Ah, I understand. Enchante (it is nice to meet you). Your French is quite good, for an Englishman."

I nodded. "I've always liked your language, Sir, but I know little of it."

Mister de Grandpre shrugged. "It slips well from your lips, according to my wife, and I quite agree. Will you join us for lunch?"

I nodded. "I would be honored."

As we convened at the table, my eye caught the movement of a poorly dressed woman bringing in a tray of sandwiches.

I vaguely heard Mister de Grandpre talking about his merchant, as I focused on the woman carrying the tray. She colored under my scrutiny, and she set the tray on the table, backing into a corner of the room.

From my childhood back in Pittsburgh, I loathed everything connected to people enforcing their will over each other, helped by my Libertarian father, who loathed the same. My mother always taught me to respect all things, and to treat people equally well unless I was given a reason not to.

I could tell that this woman was some kind of servant, and it chilled me.

"So, Master Richards," I turned quickly, hearing my name being called, my concentration on the woman broken. "If it is true that you are a mercenary, I would have to assume that you currently have no place to call your own?"

I nodded. "That's right, yeah. I just happened to meet your daughter as I was making my way through this lovely city, and I decided to escort her home. After all, you can never be too careful. I tend to wander where the money takes me. My expertise, however, is not limited to that of a warrior. I can do whatever my employer asks of me, and I am quite good at doing it, too."

The older men smiled. "Tres biene (Very good)! I'm sure we can find a use for you in this house. Despite my best efforts, I have a few enemies and rivals who would like to do me harm."

I nodded in return, feeling extremely relieved. "I understand, and as I am already in your debt for allowing me to come into your exceptional house, I think you and I can do business."

With that, we stood to shake hands, and I became a member of the de Grandpre household from then on.

During the evening, I was given a room across from Aveline's.

Mister de Grandpre had to be the most generous person in the whole city, or he was just that desperate for outside help. Either way, this guy was awesome! Feeling tired, I lay down on my bed, and drifted off to sleep.

The black but shiny nothingness was back, and within a short period of time, Arthur Auditore stood before me, dressed in the same uniform I had seen him in.

"Well, you seem to be doing quite nicely," Arthur noted.

I shrugged. "Hey, I'm that damn good! Anywhoosle, thanks for giving me a goddess to work with! I'm really going to enjoy-" He raised a hand, cutting me off.

"Yeah, save it for someone who gives a crap, Romeo! What I do care about is you making a damned fool of yourself in front of a crowd of citizens in broad fucking daylight!" His voice rose with every word, and I raised my hands.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! That douchebag had it coming, and I gave him a well-deserved, Grade-A, ass kicking!"

Arthur's snarl cut me off again. "Whether he deserved it or not is not the problem here. What is the problem is that you decided that show-boating was a great idea. What part of 'We work in the dark to serve the Light' didn't you get? You've only been in New Orleans for half a day, and you're already a wanted man. Next time around, keep a lid on that warped temper of yours, and try to avoid crowds."

I nodded, and after a moment, Arthur sighed, and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Other than that, sonny, you got the gift of gab, and you have gotten farther than even I hoped you would. Keep it up, and be careful. I've got your back, but I can't do it alone. Understood?"

I nodded, snapping a mocking salute. "Sir, yes, sir!"

He laughed. "Smartass! Just like me at your age! Now, it's time for you to wake up." I blinked, and he repeated himself, but this time he was speaking with Aveline's voice.

What the hell...?

I woke with a start, finding Aveline next to me, shaking me awake. "Jeez, Lady! You ever heard of knocking?"

She frowned at me, and I saw that she was still wearing her green dress, as well as a golden necklace. "This is my house, Gabriel! Besides, I didn't want to attract attention."

I yawned, noticing it was still dark. "Let me guess: it's clobbering time?"

She smiled. "Oui, that is one way of putting it." A few minutes later, we were outside of the mansion, and she guided me to a nearby warehouse, a few blocks from the mansion.

She turned to me. "Listen, but stay hidden."

I nodded, and did so.

"-second time this month! Customer relations are strained enough without shipments disappearing!" It was the voice of my new employer, Mister de Grandpre!

I edged closer, and caught sight of him talking to a younger with wavy brown hair, and a tan-colored suit.

The man answered quickly, sounding nervous. "Your...er...frustration is understandable, Monsieur. In your position, I...I should demand a full investigation. Please, let me look into it. I...I will go talk to Monsieur de Saint Maxent at once."

"Most grateful, Monsieur Blanc. At least I know I can always rely on you." With that, the two men parted.

"That stuttering bozo is up to something. Let's tail him, and see what we can find out."

Aveline nodded. "Oui, that sounds like a good plan."

And so we did so, keeping out of sight, but keeping him in our sight.

Eventually, the young man came upon an elderly looking man in a brown suit-coat. The latter said to the new arrival, clearly pissed: "My boy, the cargo was stolen from this very ship. I have no more means of retrieving it than you do!"

The youth nodded. "Oui, Monsieur, that is indeed troubling. I er... well, what would you suggest then?"

"I know this much: the devil had the gall to impersonate my dress, and my signature! Can you imagine?"

"Non, Monsieur. Imagination has never been my er...strong suit. If it's not too much trouble, may I...look at your books?"

The elderly man snorted. "My books? I'd interrogate the captain! If his crew takes bribes, I'd wager he's no less corruptible!"

The younger man nodded, and they parted. "

This way." Aveline said to me, and headed for the ship in the docks to find the captain. As we approached, I saw four guards standing in our way, blocking us from the ship. "Stay here, and do nothing until I say so. This is the time to work my magic."

With that, she bribed the guards, and I watched as she flirted and charmed the captain into talking. I had to admit, she was really good at what she did, although I felt the green monster begin to rear its ugly head, as the captain stroked her cheek with his hand.

Shortly afterwards, she grabbed something off the table, and joined me at the docks.

"That went well," I said, impressed, and fighting to conceal my jealousy.

"You have your strengths, and I have mine, non?" She said, before showing me the thing she had taken: a letter.

She broke the seal, and read: "They hid the goods in two warehouses."

I raised an eyebrow. "What, that's all we got?"

She gave me a flat look. "I know where they are."

With that, she led me a short way up the docks.

Before we could enter the warehouses, some guards tried to get cute with Aveline, but I would have none of it.

I smirked at her, after I had killed the last guard. "It's not very subtle, but it got the job done. As you said before, I have my strengths-" I was cut off when Aveline flicked her wrist, and cut the throat of the last guard who had risen to his feet to attack me from behind.

"Oui, I can see that," she said, patting me teasingly on the cheek. "You really should learn to watch your arrogant back, and hide your jealousy better!"

With that, she walked away, leaving me standing there.

Before I could follow her, she called over her shoulder, "Be sure to tell the Maxent the good news for me, oui? As for me, I must get some sleep now. I shall see you in the morning, bright and early, non? Bonne nuit (Good night)!"

I shook my head, smiling slightly.

Oh, she was good!

After I had informed Maxent, I made my way back to the mansion, but any thoughts of getting some sleep were driven from my mind.

"That's him, that's the man!" I looked up to see six armed dudes advancing on me, led by the douchebag who I had beaten the shit out of several hours ago.

Damn, and I was only a block away from the mansion too. I grinned at them, recognizing thugs when I saw them. If they were the Feds, I would be more worried.

"Evening, boys. What's up?"

Dick-face drew his sword, and I raised a finger. "You might not want to do that. I'm really not someone to screw with. I've killed better men in my sleep!"

The man laughed. "The only one who's going to die is you!"

With that, they charged.

I drew my swords. "Can't we just get along? No? Then let's get this shit done!"

I brushed aside the first blow, and karate kicked the owner of the sword, and cut him down with my hidden-dagger.

Half a second later, I slit the throat of another with my other sword, and then grunted as I took a gash across my left shoulder-blade, near my collarbone, from the instigator of all this crap.

Okay, now I was pissed off!

I punched the guy across the face, and ran another through.

Three down, four to go.

I kicked the leg of another, dislocating his knee before ramming my hidden-blade into his face.

I groaned as another gash opened on the left side of my chest, and I moved in between two of the remaining thugs, using both swords to skewer them.

I turned to the ringleader. "Uh oh! Looks like somebody's in for it! You know, I think you and I got off on the wrong foot. What do you say we settle this tonight, just you and me, before you tried to get your goons to kill, instead of being a man and doing things yourself?" I asked, enjoying rubbing it in his face.

I was bleeding and in pain, but I more than made up for it being so pissed off.

I had been taken from my home, I lost my family, and was stuck in an era that I barely knew what the fuck was going on!

Needless to say, I wanted blood!

Before I could do anything, he fell, Aveline's hidden-blade buried in his back.

"Nice of you to come." I said, wiping my blades on the dead man's clothing.

She smiled back, as we tossed the bodies into a conveniently-placed shed a block away from the mansion. "The last one was my target, so I wanted to kill him myself. You seemed to handle things on your end."

I shrugged, grinning. "Of course I did. I've killed better men before!"

She laughed as we headed back to the mansion. "No need to be so arrogant. I might begin to think you are just another arrogant man, and I've had more than enough experience dealing with them."

I smiled at her. "I wasn't being arrogant, just honest. Besides, there are no other men like me." I said, turning serious.

At the door to the mansion, she turned to me, her expression turning to worry, suddenly seeing the blood staining my sweater. "You're hurt."

I shrugged. "I've had worse, Avs."

She raised her eyebrow at her new nickname, but didn't protest, as she led me through the front door.

"Mon Dieu! What happened?" Her mother asked, rushing toward us.

"Several bandits attacked him. I only got there in time to see him finish the last one," Aveline explained, as I was helped into a chair.

"You killed them?" Her mother asked, sounding horrified.

I glared at her. "I defended myself, Miss! What was I supposed to do, beg for mercy? Not on my watch."

Aveline bit her lip to keep from laughing, and turned back to her mother. "I'll take care of him, Maman. Just bring me a basin of water, a washing cloth, and some bandages, sil vous plais! I'll take care of everything else."

Grumbling to herself, the woman did so, bringing the requested items before returning, presumably, to her bed.

Turning back to me, she nodded, reddening at the same time. "Take it off!"

I leaned forward. "Say what?"

"Your shirt and overcoat, take them off!"

Aveline reddened further as a slow smirk played across my face. "Ah, I see what you want! How very- hey, take it easy!" I finished, as she grabbed me by my collar.

"Tu es un fils de pute (You son of a bitch)! Take them off, or I'll cut them off along with your skin!"

Chuckling, I did so.

For a long moment, she studied me with a deep flush, then nodded while avoiding his eyes.

He was not unpleasant to look at.

"You are going to need stitches."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's all you've got to say-son of a bitch!" I swore, as she pressed the wet cloth against the cut.

After she was done cleaning the wounds, she started to stitch them shut.

Having done this before, I began to tell her of my old life.

We talked for at least an hour, getting to know each other.

She was a Creole (half-African, half-French), and she hadn't seen her true parents for many years.

She had been trained as an Assassin by her Mentor, Agate, a former slave turned Assassin.

We talked long into the night, and by the time we went to bed, and I realized that she knew me better than anyone else, other than my parents.

It felt so good to have her as a good friend, as friends were hard to come by, and I hoped we would become something more, but all in good time.

Right now, both of us needed some sleep!

This seems like a good place to stop for the chapter. What do you guys think about this story so far? Don't spare me the details, just read and review. Ta ta for now!