"Here's the mutt!" The man snarled as he shoved the ten year old, mulatto child, in front of another man. She whirled around and glared at the first man defiantly.
"Ne touchez pas moi! (Don't touch me!)" She snapped in fluent French. Her mocha colored skin was grimy from dirt from where the man grabbed her. Her dark curls were matted, her once nice dress torn, and a couple bruises on her arms from being grabbed so roughly. Her vivid, light green eyes held anger and high self-confidence as she stood proudly in front of the large men.
The man had cool, collective blue eyes and sleek brown hair, he looked rather young. He wore a blue coat and a hat sat proudly upon his hair that was pulled back into a short ponytail. He looked stern and serious as he stood stiffly while looking down at her condescendingly. He had an accent she had never heard before.
Something caught the little girl's eyes; a red cross adorned the man's neck and glinted in the sunlight. She frowned as she stared at it before finally tearing her gaze from it. What was that? It did not look like the typical cross that people wore to represent their Christianity.
The girl had been kidnapped from her white father, Phillip, and she didn't know what was currently happening. She could speak English decently, not as well as she could speak French, but nonetheless she knew the man had called her a mutt. Had she been any other ten year old she would have been sad or confused as to what mutt meant. But not her. Her father had taught her her self worth.
"Ah," The brown haired man chuckled and grabbed her chin roughly to examine her,"A spit fire. But when my boy grows up he'll put her in her place...she's quite the beauty isn't she?" He mused,"Yes my son will most definitely take a liking to this one..." He laughed cruelly and the girl wrenched her head away from him.
"Prendre me ramè à mon père, conchon! (Take me back to my father, pig!)" She snarled before spitting on his nice clothing. She didn't really catch what he had said earlier...something about a boy? She knew what was happening. The man that took her from her father was selling her to this one. She had seen this happen to several slaves in New Orleans. But she was no slave.
The man looked appalled,"You filthy abomination!" He snarled,"You dare spit on me!" He backhanded her so hard that she fell on her rear. Tears formed in her eyes and fell down her cheeks as the stinging sensation remained and her eyesight became blurred with tears. That hurt! She tenderly cupped her cheek and winced at how agitated her skin felt. The tears wouldn't stop falling even as the same man with a powerful swing wrenched her to her feet.
"Ignorant mulatto, such audacity considering you're a disgrace." He gritted his teeth before letting out a breath,"You're lucky you're an early gift to my son," He sneered before pulling out coins from his pocket and placing them in the other man's hand. The kidnapper grinned gleefully before scurrying away leaving the girl with the buyer. "Tell me your name girl." He instructed scathingly as he glared at her.
She was still holding her cheek and returned his glare,"Aveline."
"Can you speak good English?" He questioned as he watched her. She looked down at her feet and felt utter hatred erupt within her. She just wanted to go home. Her dad was waiting for her, as she stood there she felt sick, never had she felt so weak in her life. She just wanted her father, he'd know what to do, in fact he'd probably beat this man up. He'd want her to he brave. She told herself and the ten year old looked up at him shyly again.
She nodded,"Yes..." Her hard glare returned,"I'll...kill you." She hissed menacingly. Her tiny hands balling into fists.
The man laughed mockingly,"Yet again wrong answer." He clucked before he struck her again making her effectively lose consciousness.
-Line Break-
"Aveline! I hope you're ready to serve guests!" Master Kenway exclaimed as the eleven year old girl wiped down the table slowly. Her eyes harded as she nodded stiffly. A scar was on the corner of her lip and it was darker than her lighter toned skin. Her hair was curled around her face and she was dressed in all white.
"Prêt à balancer un abaissement de la fourche de votre gorge. (Ready to shove this fork down your throat.)" She grumbled darkly. She's been trapped, as a slave for a year and life was terrible. Anytime she screwed up her owner, Haytham Kenway, would beat her with anything he had. Her back was riddled in scars from being whipped and beaten. But surprisingly her confidence never waned. She knew what she was worth. But she found that the more she disobeyed the more torment came her way. It was engrained to her that she would get out of this awful prison. Her father would come for her.
Aveline de Grandpre was rather young to become a servant...a servant that was constantly abused, but that was how much Haytham Kenway disliked her. Their first encounter hadn't gone so well after all.
All hated her. Blacks and whites, she was so different and the combination between black and white was so bizarre, she was ridiculed for what she couldn't control. She was an "abomination" as they liked to call her. But she did have one friend.
Jack Kenway, the master's son. He was nice to her, the first time he had met her he called her pretty, in turn she yelled at him in French because she was angry about being a slave. He was eleven like her, anytime his father left the house the two would play together, race through the fields, and chatter aimlessly. She would talk about her dad to Jack all time and he would tell her about random things as well. For a year Jack had been her best friend behind his father's back. Haytham Kenway didn't like her at all and it was obvious and Jack didn't want to disappoint his father so he pretended she didn't exist. It hurt but she acted like everything's fine.
"Hey Ave!" She turned to see Jack running towards her excitedly. He was a cute boy, blonde hair and bright blue eyes; he was taller than her too. He had dimples and a charismatic smile and she couldn't help but smile back.
"Hey Jack." She murmured as she continued to wipe down the long, mahogany dining table.
He looked at her excitedly,"I want to show you something tonight. It's really amazing." He whispered and she raised an eyebrow.
"You know what will happen if I get caught..." She trailed off wearily. She had been caught before and it ended with a broken nose and several kicks to the stomach. And she still had to get up the next morning and work.
His smile brightened,"We won't I swear!" He said cheerily and Aveline sighed did she really want to risk her well-being?
"Okay..." She said hesitantly and he crushed her into a large hug. Jack was the only person that showed her affection. Everyone else either seemed wary of her or disgusted. She liked it though she'd never admit it, he was so warm, and he was white but he didn't seem to care about her race.
"You'll love it!" She grimaced as he made contact with one of her fresher wounds. She wrenched herself from his grasp and hissed making his eyes widened,"Are you okay-" She wanted to smack him, her back stung painfully making her eyes water and her anger boil.
"Aucune vous idiot! Ne pouvez-vous pas void Je suis blessèe ici! (No you idiot! Can't you see I'm hurt here!)" She snapped angrily and he winced. Aveline was riled, she hated pain, and stupid Jack had just caused that. Yes it was unintentional but goodness it hurt immensely.
"Ave I'm so-"
"It's fine." She muttered before turning away from him and continuing her work. A sigh escaped his lips before he planted a kiss on her cheek. She became a cherry red and she turned to him in utter shock.
His face was even redder than hers,"I'm sorry." He murmured before walking away. She watched him for a moment before turning back to her work and smiling softly to herself. Next time he did that she'd punch him for making her feel so flustered.
As guests poured into the dining room Aveline noticed one in particular was black. He wore a brown hat that somewhat resembled a cowboy hat. It had a red jewel in the middle of it and he walked in with a cane. His brown jacket contrasted with his white under shirt, he wore tall long socks and she cautiously approached him. Typically black people didn't like her so she had no clue what his reaction would be.
"May I take your coat sir?" She asked bitterly, she hated her demeaning job.
He smiled gently at her,"No thank you," His voice was soft and somewhat raspy as he looked at her with warm, brown eyes. He had white stubble on his face and his dark hand clasped her shoulder,"unfortunately I'm in the same predicament as you my dear." He chuckled dryly and her eyes widened. For a slave he was dressed rather nice. Before she could say another word he stood to attention as another, well-dressed white man came in.
"What did I tell you about talking Achilles?" The man snapped and Achilles sighed while Aveline bristled. The man had five o'clock shadow and a ragged appearance. He had short, brown hair and a hard face as he shot Achilles a glare. He was a bit shorter than Achilles but stockier, he had an accent, a French accent. He wore a brown coat over a white shirt and crossed his arms over his chest as he eyed Aveline distastefully.
"He is already your slave! Now you want him to stop talking as well?" She spat scathingly making the rough looking man turn his glare on her. Achilles's eyes widened and she didn't notice the smile that spread across his lips.
"Does there seem to be a problem?" Aveline froze, Haytham Kenway, his cold voice gave her chills and she had to stop herself from flinching when she saw him. He was a terrifying man, she would pretend not to be afraid but in reality she was horrified anytime he came up to her, she noticed that he singled her out and would physically and mentally try to break her. Physically he succeeded but mentally Aveline was still fighting.
"No sir." She grumbled and he nodded stiffly as he looked at her coldly. His arms were politely behind his back and he didn't wear his hat.
"Good, see to it these two are escorted to where they belong." He instructed before walking away.
Aveline made a face at him when he turned his back to them. Achilles laughed quietly and Aveline turned to him with a small smile on her lips. The white male looked rather amused as he walked past her.
"Don't worry about me...or Achilles. He actually needs to use the restroom...would Haytham mind?" The pale man asked with his thick, French accent. Aveline, despite his previous rudeness, couldn't help but feel somewhat connected to the strange man because of his obvious French roots. It fondly reminded her of her life before slavery.
She bit her lip,"Uh I don't believe he really likes...black people at all." She murmured and the brunette waved her off carelessly.
"I promise you it'll be quick. Haytham shan't find out." He swore and shot Achilles a meaningful glance before disappearing into the crowd of people. Aveline bit her lip; Haytham Kenway would have her head if Achilles were found in his restroom. The mulatto child looked after the black man wearily as he shuffled up the steps and vanished down the hall of the mansion. She stood there for a moment before quickly scurrying to the kitchen. She had to now...serve people and indulge in their demeaning comments at her skin color. Great.
Carrying around drinks was probably her least favorite jobs. People picked up glasses carelessly causing the wine to spill. Most of the time it spilled on her which caused her to smell like alcohol until she had her next bath which was twice a week. Or they'd slam them down hoping to watch her fall. She hated being here. She held the silver platter up as she walked by aimlessly while people snatched cups off of it or put them back.
"Hey mutt! Bring some of that over here!" A voice called out and she instinctively turned to see a busty woman calling out to her. With gritted teeth the eleven year old stalked over to her and held up the trey. The woman was rather large, wore a bright pink dress, and had rather pale skin. It was paler than many white people's skin tones and Aveline was surprised to see someone so pale.
"Here your fatness." She muttered...but unfortunately the woman heard her.
"Excuse me?" She asked appalled as she clenched her glass angrily.
No turning back now. Since when was she one to be a coward and allow Kenway to win? Not to mention this fat, cruel woman called her a mutt. She supposed she should have been used to the name, but no matter how many times she heard it she couldn't help but cringe and feel angered.
"Did I stutter madam walrus?" She taunted before turning on her heel to walk away. Oh she was going to get it for such retaliation but it felt so good. She would never dream of talking to Kenway like that, he would kill her, she dove through the crowd with the drinks sitting sliding slightly making her freeze. She adjusted the glasses cautiously and continued walking.
"Aveline!" A voice whispered and she turned to see Jack inconspicuously walking towards her. He was taking his sweet time and looking at other things as he did so. Aveline pretended she had no interest in Jack and handed out some drinks before he stood by her side. He looked rather handsome in his white shirt and black coat. It seemed to make his eyes brighter than normal and his brilliant white teeth made her blink.
"What do you want Jack?" She murmured as she politely handed put another drink.
He chuckled as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at anything but her,"Well Aveline, I think we should go see that cool thing I was talking about earlier." She looked at him alarmed as he flashed her his typical troublemaker smile.
Bitterness swept over her,"Your father will shoot me before I can even put the trey down. I'd rather continue living." If she could consider this living.
Guilt crossed over his features,"I know...I'm sorry I just-"
"Jack, is there a particular reason you're associating with Aveline?" A clipped voice questioned and the two children froze before turning slowly and saw Haytham glowering at them.
Jack swallowed thickly and fumbled with his coat nervously,"No father I-"
"Is she giving you any trouble? I know how much she loves to wreck havoc." He mused as his cold glare fixated on the stunned mulatto. What should she do? She hated showing fear and so she refused to do so. She thought of her father and how confident he stood all the time, she was Phillip de Grandpre's daughter and she would not cower to her kidnapper.
She steeled herself and looked him dead in the eye,"He was just being polite...he was practicing for being a gentleman. He wants to be like you...mister Kenway." She said respectfully as she fought herself from spitting on him again.
Haytham still looked passive as he looked at his son for confirmation,"Is this true?" He asked in a monotone and Jack nodded furiously.
"Yes. I don't...I don't see the problem with Aveline being...a mulatto." He confessed,"She's really nice father...she's my friend." He said confidently and Aveline's eyes widened as the truth sprouted from his lips. Haytham's facial expression didn't change as he put his hands behind his back. Aveline wet her lips, she knew that look, it was the look she had seen countless times. He didn't know whether to punish her or simply give her a heated lecture.
He nodded stiffly,"Alright...but nothing has changed girl." He growled as he looked at her with a scowl and Aveline nodded slowly,"If you make my son happy...then I don't see the need to punish you for that. Just don't associate with him in public. It's embarrassing." He said scathingly and she couldn't help but flinch and she berated herself for doing so when she saw a sneer appear on his features before he swiftly turned on his heel and walked away.
Haytham didn't necessarily dislike Aveline. When they had first met she had spat on him and screamed at him in French, then she threatened to kill him, she truly was something. He didn't know any slave or eleven year old with the guts to dare speak to him in such a way. Maybe that was why he constantly found himself angered by her presence, not just her kindred spirit but because she reminded him so much of Ziio. He had another son out there, he had abandoned Ziio for the Templar cause and he constantly wondered how she was doing. He missed her and Aveline reopened every wound as if she was another version of Ziio and he hated her for it. When had he become so petty? He wondered as he picked up a drink and skulked it down quickly. He knew it wasn't fair to take his frustration out on an eleven year old but he foolishly let his emotions overcome him sometimes. He wasn't...well he saw colored people beneath him...and her existence threw him off.
When he saw her he knew she'd grow up to be beautiful and Jack could use a little fun when he was older. His naive son didn't know the mutt's purpose and he would once he was fifteen. Aveline was a good worker but she was mouthy. He noticed how the other slaves treated her, none of them really liked her, but she didn't seem bothered as she walked with tenacity. As though she was a rich white man. She acted like she hadn't worked a day in her life as she danced through rooms with a bright yet defiant spirit. She seemed so invincible. Even after her beatings she would verbally insult him making him furious. What would it take to break this girl? It's been a year and six months but she kept pushing on. He knew she was also afraid of him, but she was so good at playing off her fear and fooling everyone that she was fearless. She was certainly something else. Just like Ziio.
Jack was certainly an accident; his mother had been nowhere to be found when she dropped him off at his house and vanished. This frustrated him greatly, he was the leader of the Templars and didn't have time for a child, but the more he nurtured the boy the more attached he grew to him. He didn't intend to have yet another son but Jack was there and he could actually have him to himself and make him a templar. Jack would be an excellent Templar, good looking, charismatic, and smart. Aveline was holding him back. He knew Jack had a crush on the mulatto and that was another reason he disliked Aveline. The girl had his son wrapped around her little finger. He had known they were friends all along, which is why he beat her more out of anger. After Ziio and him separated he hadn't been the same, quick to anger, susceptible to pain, and his thoughts were more muddled.
He had loved her and there was no other woman like her much to his anger. She was one of a kind. All the others were bubbly and laughed at his jokes that weren't even funny. He wanted a challenge, a fighter, someone who would give him headaches yet he still would adore them because they've been through a lot together. He looked around with a weary sigh and noticed the white man, who had walked in with the black man, running for the exit along with the black man. His eyes widened as he saw a flash of rapidly blinking, yellow lights. His artifact.
Aveline had noticed Achilles and the white man running towards the door. Haytham let out a yell of rage and tackled Achilles who was an older fellow. Why did Haytham hate blacks and mulattos so much? Haytham drew back an arm and gave a powerful punch make Achilles hiss in pain. Aveline felt pent up rage overcome her, all the anger and craziness she had been keeping bottled up for a year was starting to open up as he punched Achilles again. She wasn't weak...she was Aveline de Grandpre. And her father had always taught her to be strong and dignified. She had had enough of Haytham's tyranny and abuse. The white man had rushed back in to try to help but another guest, a friend of Haytham obviously, began to wrestle with him.
"Assassin!" He snarled and the man cursed in French as he struggled against the man.
Aveline's blood boiled as she picked up a glass of wine and threw it with immense force at Haytham,"STOP IT!" She screamed angrily. It missed and slammed onto the ground beside him. This made his gaze snap towards her giving Achilles the upper hand. Achilles grabbed his throat and Haytham yelped as a blade embedded itself into his shoulder. He rolled off Achilles and Jack panicked.
"Father!" He yelled as he ran towards him. Aveline could only watch in horror, as her friend was teary-eyed kneeling over his injured father. What was happening? Achilles was on his feet and picked up his cane he had dropped in the shuffle. He smacked the other attacker on the head with it freeing his master and the man gave him a nod. Achilles turned to Aveline and before she could blink he grabbed her hand and the two were running out of the house.
Achilles liked the girl, she had not only helped her defeat Haytham but her attitude was admirable, she was eleven yet she acted like she had been alive for longer as she easily defended him when his partner played the role of cruel slave owner. They needed more people like her for the cause, that and if she didn't want to be an assassin that was okay, he was rescuing her from slavery. The girl was bold and for someone her age, color, and her gender that was admirable. Women were treated with little respect, especially colored women. This girl was something and he liked it.
Aveline wanted to check up on Jack, help him, but Haytham would kill her and she knew for certain he wouldn't hold back this time. But what of Jack?
"Don't worry, you're free now." Achilles once soothing voice was rough now. Soon thoughts of her best friend escaped her mind. Free. The white man muttered something and swooped Aveline from Achilles's grip and into his arms as they sprinted into the darkness. She wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively and clutched to him as they disappeared into the darkness. Aveline watched the white mansion and plantation vanish from her sight...she was free. She didn't realize tears were streaming down her cheeks until a sniffle brought her back to reality. She was finally free...no more beatings, no more racial slurs, no more Haytham, no more mean fellow slaves, no more...Jack.
-Line Break-
"I'm Jack...you're really pretty." The blonde blurted out to the grumpy mulatto. To her annoyance he blushed, stupid boy, she was here instead of with her father with a red-faced boy.
She was seething,"Ne me parlez pas! J'ai déjà la haine que vous et votre père!(Don't talk to me! I already hate you and your father!)" She snarled as she bawled her hands into fists.
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion,"What?" She saw a flash of irritation flash through his blue eyes. A frown tugged his lips downward and his shoulders hunched over as he assessed her.
"Bien que vous ne savez pas ce que je dis comme votre père muet. (Good you don't know what I'm saying like your dumb father.)" She grumbled as she began to walk to the large mansion. It was so large, much bigger than her father's home, she saw slaves working on the land pulling cotton and she winced. Would she have to do that?
"Hey!" Jack's voice sounded angry as he grabbed her wrist,"Don't try to walk away from me-" She whirled around and shove him making him stumbled backwards. He looked at her shocked and a look of arrogance lit up his eyes.
"Don't touch me!" She yelled and his lips curled back into a sneer.
"Don't push me!" He shot back and shoved her back. Soon the two, stubborn children were pushing each other violently. They were at each other's throats and kept fighting until a force made Aveline fly backwards. She felt a large pain erupt in her head and she was in slight shock as blood dripped down from her forehead. Jack looked surprised as she felt and she looked up to see Haytham Kenway glaring down at her, she felt tears blur her vision and sting her eyes. She refused to cry in front of Jack and Haytham.
"Don't you ever lay a hand on my son again. Or I won't hesitate to kill you. Know your place mutt." He jeered,"We will get you settled...then you start work immediately. If you even think of trying to run or retaliate I will punish you severely." He warned icily before turning on his heel and stalking away in dramatic fashion. Aveline sat there stunned and Jack cautiously approached her.
"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to get you in trouble." He murmured as he held his hand out to her. She tentatively took it as she held her other hand to her wound. The blood was warm and felt like it would never stop. What did he hit her with? "What's your name?" He asked as he walked beside her and looked at her earnestly. She noticed the way his eyes flickered to her wound then to her face again.
"Aveline." She muttered as she tried to blink away the tears as she saw a black man get whipped by a farm hand. Why...why was this happening? Where was her dad?
The thirteen year old's eyes opened as a knock on the door ruined her dream...could she call it a dream? Ruined her memory? The mixed girl rolled out of bed and yawned before dressing in her assassin's gear. Ever since Achilles and Stephane Chapeau saved her they had both been training her for their cause. She had easily, willing accepted, she was tired of being weak so why not learn how to defend herself? She was still an apprentice but she was a fast learner.
Over the years she had developed rather nicely. She was a radiant teenager that caught the eyes of many as she accompanied Stephane and Achilles into town. Her green eyes contrasted with her tan skin making her look even more exotic. Her hair was in long, black braids that were tied into a ponytail when she trained. Her accent drew many in when she spoke and she had grown rather charismatic. She had light humor and lived for liberation. Every assassin, she had noticed, seemed to have a major cause they were fighting for. Hers was to free the slaves. She had been one herself and she was blessed to only be one for a year and a couple months.
She was rather thrilled when she discovered Haytham was a Templar. That meant she actually could kill him, she wouldn't allow anyone else to do so, Haytham was hers. She constantly thought of Jack, her father, and her mother. How were they now?
"Aveline please come here." Achilles called and she adjusted her black clothes. She kept her hood down and examined herself in the mirror. Her assassin's garbs were black with patches of white on it. The sleeves were white at the bottom, her cloak tails were white and the outline of her hood was white as well.
Black and white seemed only fitting seeing as she was black and white. She did have a nice sense of humor. Her hidden blades were strapped on her wrists, she sheathed her machete as well as her pistol, tucked her various assortments of bombs away, and finally tucked her crossbow to a strap on her back making it easily accessible. She walked down the stairs of the beautiful mansion and saw her mentor staying there rigidly.
He wore an angered expression,"We have a visitor...wants me to teach him our ways. Get rid of him would you dear?" He asked tiredly as he clapped a hand on her shoulder. Achilles had been like a father to her and it prided her to make him happy.
She smirked,"Of course!" She flipped her hood over her face leaving only her smug smile visible.
"Old man!"Ratonhnhaké:ton yelled angrily,"Open the door! I just wish to talk!" He begged as he banged on the mansion door again. Why was the old man so stubborn? "I'll find a way to get to you! I just want to talk you stubborn man." He grumbled under his breath as he backed away from the door and looked around. He had a bow slung across his back and he didn't realize someone was behind him until he bumped into a smaller body.
He whirled around to see a smirking woman,"Who are you! Where did you come from?" He asked in shock of her sudden appearance. Her face obscured from his view by a hood, he noticed she had a cut over the corner of her mouth...like him. She seemed muscular from what he could see with that darn cloak over her. From the skin he could see she appeared to be...too light to be black...but too dark to be white. She was a mixture like him as well.
"Adieu stupide garçon!(Goodbye silly boy!)" She said cheerily and he frowned. What? Suddenly she grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back making him yelp. She faced him away from the mansion and shoved him down the stairs, he managed to catch himself before he fell, he stood to his feet but before he could comprehend anything the girl was midair and landed a hard kick to his chest making him fly backwards. He slammed into the ground and was completely shocked by her strength and fighting abilities. His head was spinning and she laughed as she stood over him successfully.
"Adieu!" She waved before vanishing into the manor. How in the world had she done that?
Decided to try to write one...why not?