A fill for the Assassin's Creed kink meme.
Pre-slash. Mentions of sex. Non-graphic violence.
There are several things Haytham likes about Charles.
The first are his manners. He is impeccably polite, his voice and posture always deeply respectful... well, except for where Hickey is concerned. To Haytham, however, his behaviour is outright worshipful, as though he is constantly in awe of the man he serves. 'Tis nice, certainly, but Haytham is merely a man, capable of making mistakes, imperfect.
Secondly, the man is efficient and helpful, and would be an excellent addition to the Order. Many a time has he offered an ingenious suggestion to Haytham, and in his quick thinking in more than a few tricky situations he has helped further the goals of the Order more than ever expected. Haytham shall need to thank him most thoroughly at some point in the near future.
Thirdly, he is Haytham's to command. With but a small nod, a minute gesture, a short phrase, Charles easily dispatches enemies, lies convincingly, steals undetected. Haytham cannot help but wonder how far that loyalty extends. Certainly, he would murder and torture with no justification other than "Charles, would you please?" from Haytham's own lips needed. But would he obey an order to stay still while Haytham's lips and tongue caress his own? Would he sink to his knees and mouth at his breeches with a certain dark glance? Would he spread his legs eagerly with but a single syllable, "now"?
No, this is not the time for such thoughts. Haytham blinks, and shakes his head. He needs to concentrate, to have these new soldiers taken out before they can raise the alarm at the sight of the dead soldiers around the corner. He glances to the alcove Charles is hidden in and gives a low whistle. Haytham's shoulder is still healing from an incident the week before- all Hickey's fault- else he'd be doing this alone.
"Did you hear that?" the soldier on the left asks.
"Hear what?" the soldier on the right replies.
Those are their last words. Charles slices their throats open before they can even turn around, and Haytham steps out of the shadows, smiling.
"Thank you," he says. "That was very well done. Now, let us find the maps."
Charles nods, barely able to keep the delight at such high praise from the mouth of his mentor from his face. He follows just a few steps behind, silently, and when Haytham gestures, he vaults over the short fence they pause at. The fight is short but brutal, and as much as Haytham wants to watch Charles' swift fighting style in action, he needs to use this opportunity to sneak past this gaggle of guards and into the building just across the courtyard.
With one last glance back at Charles, savagely elbowing one poor sod in the nose as two more try to grab him, Haytham ducks into the dark hallway, and makes his way to where Hickey thinks the study is. He hears yelps of pain, and soft thuds, crunching noises and gasps. Clearly Charles is being quite creative today. A pity he can't sit and watch the spectacle, they need to be in and out as quickly as possible.
It takes a mere five minutes to locate the room, find the papers, and re-enter the courtyard. Charles has take the liberty of piling the bodies in various hiding spots: a shrub, two haycarts, an alley overgrown with grass and weeds. He handles the men with care, even those that are dead. There is something graceful in that, Haytham thinks.
Charles is so engrossed in this activity that he does not realise Haytham is behind him until he speaks.
"Thank you," Haytham says, flourishing the papers so that Charles spots them as soon as he glances up in shock. "That was excellent thinking. Let's be off."
"Yes, sir," Charles replies, trying not to smile at the compliment.
Haytham wonders if it's worth leaving via the other entrance to the fort, so as to watch Charles properly as he twists and stabs and deflects in a flurry of elegant movements. He decides against it. Too many questions. The man may realise what Haytham is doing, and he doesn't have any real excuse for not using the way they entered.
Haytham turns on his heel and stalks southward. They'll meet with the others back at the Green Dragon Inn. He makes a mental note to thank Hickey for that mess with the blacksmith, after all, if it wasn't for that particular afternoon he'd not have had the chance to survey Charles' brilliantly brutal movements today.