Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or anything made in relations to the games.
From the balcony of a tall and old structure stood a man cloaked in draping darkness. Twin pure grey-blue orbs glistened, in what little light could be noted, as they peered at a brawl pre-set in the streets just below his perch. He could see the lean build preparing to strike, crouched, fists clenched and raised, body tensed. A smirk creased the lips, tilting them into a grim expression in the shadows as this man observed the soon-to-be slaughter he knew the warrior beneath would wreck on these British idiots. How foolish was it for rabbits to mess with a lion?
"..'ey, 'alfbreed!" One of the goons mocked to the focused Indian surrounded by redcoats. He studied them with intense brown eyes, turning his head every so often to gaze at them all and make sure none moved without his notice.
This lad was the quiet type, but hardly a weakling. He was as ferocious as they came, precise, with a serious nature that defied his adult age. He was deadly. Most young men his age would be frolicking with the ladies, charming and bent on sleeping with as many girls as they could; or, have settled down to start a family. He did neither. This man in particular.. well let's just say he carried on a dark legacy his father and grandfather had been engulfed in.
Connor Kenway was no naive youngster.
Haytham had seen that personally. He was just like his mother.. Ziio.. The thought of her brought an ache to the chest that couldn't be quelled. It wouldn't be sated. That smirk dipped into a deep frown, concentration filling the hole in his mind.
"I'll show you, ya mutt!"
He shook his head, noting that while he was musing the fight had begun. Connor gracefully glided through the soldiers like they were a field of trees. His swords weaved, deflecting, attacking, slicing, blood spraying from jagged cuts set into skin. His eyes zeroed in on the almost.. fluid way the boy moved, parting the soldiers like a sea, leaving a nasty blood bath in his wake.
The boy was certainly skilled. A compliment of genetics he had gained from his parents. He had Haytham's tenacity, cunning and power, but Ziio's stubborn edge, her biting clarity and her sense of justice. He was truly a child of both worlds.. in more sense than merely that as his grandfather Edward had also been an assassin. A shadow in a world of light.. or, a dark stain on a white canvas.
"You bla'de scoundrel!" The way the soldier said 'bloody' was quite comical, an out-of-place posh accent tripping up his words.
"This is surely a joke." Connor said, a small pause as a reward while a new and fresh wave of victims stood before him, the corpses of their fallen comrades a stark warning to these redcoats.
"We'll make you pay." A redcoat sneered, a flintlock aimed at the boy's robe-clad chest.
Connor smiled beneath the shadows of his drawn hood. "I'll pay no piper on this day." He whispered just as the finger tightened.
He moved. The idiot fired. It struck the redcoat behind Connor, who was dashing forward to slip his hidden blade's tip into the section that guarded the trigger, jerking the weapon down. He slid his dagger home in the man's stomach, twisting, yanking it out and shoving the guard roughly down to die painfully.
Once that action was completed another guard was thinking he could get the better of the 'distracted' man by moving in on his back, but Connor was well aware of the redcoat. He turned, having quickly sheathed his dagger and drew out his sword, slicing a clean arc up and across the man's front, catching the man's raised hand with his other arm. He bent the wrist, causing the soldier to drop the sword before turning, stepping back to bury the blade into the man's torso. He pulled it free and made his way towards the next idiot.
A brief swordplay issued before Connor saw his chance, slashing the arm and bringing the sword's handle onto the man's head to knock him out.
One more was left.. at least from this wave, but from the distance he could see a new one gaining ground to take a stand against him.
Haytham could tell the boy was tiring as he removed the last soldier from the equation, looking toward the next nuisance with a look of clear cut irritation, lungs heaving beneath that powerhouse he called a chest. He definitely wouldn't last much longer at the rate it was looking.
Just as the next wave was to be upon him a whoosh drew the chocolate eyes of the assassin to the descending figure that landed before him in a crouch, jumping up to slay the first of many that approached with a swipe of his blade. He backed away, turning briefly to address Connor. His assassin son stared in shock at the Templar Grandmaster who made his entrance with such a flourish at his front, almost.. defending and aiding him.
"Haytham?" Connor questioned hesitantly, tensed and clearly not expecting such assistance, especially from the likes of an enemy leader.
"Connor. Looks like you could use a bit of help." Haytham answered, spinning on booted heels to dash toward the next soldier who had drawn closer.
The soldiers had been momentarily shocked to see Haytham's elegantly clad stature, but had recovered and made haste to defeat their two opponents.. though clearly they knew not who they now dealt with.
"I don't need your assistance." Connor ever so careful insisted as he pushed past his surprise to also join in on the would-be fray. Haytham was already upon his target, jumping to knock the blade aside, slamming the tip of his sword down into the chest while knocking the man down before drawing it out to move on.
Connor met his adversary with a look of determination set upon his features, sword swishing to deflect blow after powerful blow the tall brute delivered.
"Oh, of course not. How could I have been misled? You clearly have this under complete control. Yes, silly me." Sarcasm dripped ever heavily from Haytham's mouth like vocal acid. This caused Connor to roll his eyes before bringing up his blade to block a downward strike. Muscles heaved under the exertion of having to block against such a powerful opponent, but with a great heave he managed to slip back, gliding to the side of the man to stab the blade into the man's hip.
A yelp followed the strike and the man brought his elbow down onto Connor's shoulder, dropping the stunned assassin to a knee with a hiss of shock. Haytham was at his aid, slashing the throat of the redcoat and kicking it away before hoisting Connor to his feet by a hand gripping the uninjured arm. Once up Haytham let go, stepping aside. Connor shook off the ache in his left arm, rolling the joint while he glared daggers at his father, who smirked before running off to help bring the fight to a close.
Soon enough they were down to a Templar, an assassin and four redcoats.
The bald soldier sneered bitterly, casting green eyes over his fallen comrade's bodies before advancing with a snarl of frustration and anger. Connor ducked the wide horizontal slash, stabbing the kneecap of the left leg before the man collapsed, slitting the neck to drop the man. The man fell on him while he hesitated, yelling a 'hey!' of surprise while shoving the man off. A soldier was already upon him, stomping where his chest had been; having rolled away to avoid the blow.
"Connor!" Haytham couldn't reach him, locked in a heated close-quarter battle with a tall redheaded man with brown eyes that were like damned pits.
"Argh!" The man jabbed his blade down, nearly slicing off Connor's arm; only managing to leave a cut down the side, sword embedded into the dirt.
Connor raised his feet, kicking the man away before retrieving his gun to silence the man with a bang. He reloaded as the third man, a short black haired warrior, ran toward him. He slid the ball home before snapping it up to fill the chest with it's component, the echoing bang sending streams of smoke into the air. The man gasped, falling onto his side.
The last man fled.. Haytham didn't even try to chase him down.
He turned to study his son, checking him over with roving steely eyes as he moved over to speak with the boy.
"I could have taken them myself." Connor started, face drawn into a blank form.
"I'm sure you could have." Haytham said mockingly. While the boy was indeed strong and skilled with assets that most would tremble to have aimed at them.. he was not invincible. That third wave would have conquered even him.
"But.. all matters aside." Connor cleared his throat, suddenly tensed and uneasy. "Thank you for the assistance."
"Connor, while our paths mirror each other in one form or another.. I wish no ill will toward you." Haytham explained, examining his son for a reaction, which he didn't get with the exception of furrowed brows.
"Such is the words of the Templar Grandmaster." Connor said, with no real bite to his words. Haytham could tell as much.
"You really should reconsider, Connor. We are not so different, you and I." Haytham started, but Connor waved him off with a sigh as he sat down onto a raised section of a rocky ledge.
"Preach not to me your words of similarity, Templar." A scowl formed on the assassin's face. "We are indeed different, as night and day, and soon we might clash if we continue to be so opposing and conflicting." Such wise words coming from one so young.
While he would have praised the boy for once using his brain he also wanted to beat him over said head with a brick until he stopped being so damned stubborn. Like his mother.
Haytham released a sigh of irritation, hands on his hips while he stared at the boy. "Perhaps I can show you the truth to my words one day, when you stop making a wall and actually listen to my wisdom. Until then, stay safe son." The Templar swished his cape aside, turning tail to disappear into the background of the outskirts of New York city.
Connor watched him go, blank chocolate orbs seemingly lost in time.