A/N: Merry Christmas to all! After playing Syndicate, I was looking through some of my old writings and found a project I never finished from a year ago, that I eventually removed from the site. To my regular readers, you know that I am currently writing a crossover between Assassin's Creed and Once Upon a Time that is currently on a short hiatus. This is so that I can have this fic finished by Christmas Day, and by this rate, it will be close, but I should be done.

Anyways, I loved Syndicate, and have always wanted to really capture what it was like to celebrate Christmas in the Victorian Era. I figure the best way is to tell a short tale of the Frye Twins and how they celebrated the holidays fresh off of taking down Crawford Starrick and freeing London from under his boot. I also make a little bit of a crossover to a classic Christmas tale with this fic, and hopefully, my take on it will still be good enough for everyone, my regular readers and new ones alike. Enjoy this first chapter, and the remaining ones will be coming out in the next few days with the last one coming on Christmas day, and not a day later! I promise!

Chapter 1

Jacob POV

December 20th 1868

My dear brother, Jacob.

Henry and I have been in India for almost two months, and I am still as breathless as I was when I first caught a glimpse of the magnificence of the Taj Mahal. Truthfully, the written words in these letters I have sent fall utterly short in how they can describe this amazing country. Our brothers and sisters-at-arms here are proud and skilled warriors, and even the people outside our circle are respectful and gentle. I have so much to tell you when we return, and I promise that I will be home in time to celebrate the holidays. Until then, stay out of trouble (though I won't hold my breath), and I will see you soon.

Signed, Evie.

P.S: Henry has just told me that he has never celebrated Christmas before! Honestly, it doesn't surprise me, but he shows much interest in partaking. I know how you have always enjoyed celebrating the holiday.

"What is so funny, guv'ner?"

I looked up from the letter, still chuckling. I could hear Evie's stern voice as clear as a fresh pint as I read the letter, and I still could not stop chuckling at her nagging. Craig, one of the Rooks' fastest drivers was sitting in the booth close by with his friends.

I got up from my seat and walked over, holding on as the train lurched. "A letter from my dear sister, fellow Rooks." I announced. "She's saying how much she is enjoying the ancient land of India, and then here she tells me to stay out of trouble. Me? Hah. Don't I always?"

Craig and the others laughed along with me as I sat down at the head of the table. Snow from the open carriage door fluttered down from above, but none of us cared to really notice. The ale was keeping us warm enough as well as the fire in the hearth on the other end of the carriage.

Outside our inner circle, people know me as Sir Jacob Frye, leader of the dominant gang of London, the Whitechapel Rooks. Of course, to my sister and her newlywed husband, Henry Green, I am a bit more than that. A humble Master Assassin burdened with protecting London from the vicious control-obsessed Templars. Of course, while we recently took down the corrupt Crawford Starrick from his ivory tower, and freed London from his slimy claws, Evie always seemed to have this feeling like the Templars would return. So after Henry proposed marriage to her, I suggested that they take a holiday to India, as Henry had wanted to. See how she would consider living there while I stayed here in England. Of course, my sister didn't seem keen on that, thinking that her younger brother (younger by four minutes, by the way! FOUR GODFORSAKEN MINUTES that she holds against me!) would cause Big Ben to fall into the Thames with the town under my protection without her supervision. But she eventually accepted, (with Henry's help in pushing her, I might add). Now it had been months since she had left, and Big Ben in all his glory was still standing. So clearly I wasn't doing a good job at leading the Rooks if I hadn't managed to do that.

Richard, a tall, balding man walked over from the beer taps with two pints in hand, giving one to me as he sat down.

"So boss? Plans for the holiday?"

Christmas was always a great holiday I spent with Evie, and it always seemed to be the one day of the year that we didn't fight every five minutes. But I knew it wouldn't be the same this year. It was going to be the first Christmas after our father, Ethan, had passed away. I wasn't entirely sure how we would do it, but in all honesty, I would be just as happy to start a bar fight with a few of the remaining Blighters on Christmas Eve.

"Just getting into regular trouble, friends. What else?" I replied as the train started to slow down. We were pulling into St. Pancras Station.

When the train stopped, I heard two thumps on the roof. I smiled as a few of the other Rooks looked upwards in confusion. I reminded myself that only half of them at the table were original Clinkers, the former name of the gang. The rest of them had joined us only in the most recent weeks.

"Well, Buckingham Palace isn't a smoldering crater, brother. So that's at least one good sign."

I smirked as I stood up and turned, Evie grabbing me in an embrace. I pulled back from her, noticing that her whole face was deeply tanned, and she was wearing a different cloak.

Normally, Evie wore her black leather Assassin cloak with a red cape, but I guessed she had adjusted to the warmer climate on their holiday. She was wearing a white hood similar to Henry's with shorter sleeves and a purple bandana around her neck, her hair tied up in her usual braided bun. She was also wearing strange looking, large golden ring bracelets around both her wrists.

I smiled. "Welcome home, Mrs. Green." I teased.

"It's Dame Frye-Green, please, Jacob." She corrected, taking her gloves off as she took a seat beside Craig. Richard went to get another chair for Henry as the Indian Assassin walked into the carriage. He had told us a few months back that his real name was Jayadeep Mir, but I couldn't pronounce it properly, no matter how many times I tried. So we naturally stuck to his English alias.

"How have you been, Jacob?" Henry asked.

"Ah, just causing the regular mischief with the Rooks. Haven't seen another bloody Templar since we stopped their explosive plot for Her Majesty. Haven't roughed up a few Blighters in days, so we're getting a bit bored."

"And how was India, Ms. Evie?" Craig said, after taking a gulp of ale.

"Truly a country of sights unlike any other in the world, Craig. Our train home just arrived fifteen minutes ago, so we were waiting for you to pull in." Evie replied. "You could make something of yourself down there in India, Jacob, instead of wasting your time here with the Rooks drinking and brawling."

I shook my head, grinning. "You'd have to ship me down there in a crate tied down with the thickest chains, Evie. I'm perfectly fine staying right here in London."

Evie and Henry took their pints as every one of us at the table held up our drinks. "Is that a challenge?" She laughed back.

Evie and I headed out to Southwark after she and Henry had gotten settled back in. Old Charles Dickens, another good friend of ours, had kept in touch with Evie while she was away, and insisted that we have a pint the very day that she returned. He was looking quite wizened by the long years of his life, and yet I could still see the avid quirkiness of his maddening literary ingenuity in his eyes. He was talking about perhaps writing another book to release before February of next year, and Evie became very excited about the thought of that.

"Another eye into the world of child labour, Mr. Dickens?" She asked, clearly thinking about the boy, Oliver Twist. I swear, after meeting him, she had become one of his most avid readers.

"No, I think not this time. I think I should look into the mind of the life of a rich aristocrat, this time." He replied. "Recapture just a little more of that enchantment from my previous writings before I set foot into the next world."

"Well, I think you would make another great novel. I must be the first to read it, Charles." She said.

Charles grinned. "I will personally give you both copies when it is finished. Although, I must remember to even start it."

I noticed a fly land on the brim of my paperboy hat on the table, and flicked it away just as the singers by the bar were finishing up another chorus of their song.

"From God, our heavenly father a blessed angel came/ and unto certain shepherds brought tidings of the same/ a lad in Bethlehem was born, the son of God by name/ oh, tidings of comfort and joy/ comfort and joy/ oh, tidings of comfort and joy."

I noticed a middle aged, well-dressed man get up from his seat and drop a few shillings into the bucket beside the singers as they kept singing. One interrupted his own singing to give a humble "Thank you" to the man, who smiled and wished him a Happy Christmas in return. When he turned to go back to his seat, he caught the eye of Charles, and walked over.

"Charles!" He said, happily. "I thought that was you!"

"Ah, Fred!" He replied. "How fares you family?"

"Very well, sir. Very well. My wife and I are making great preparations for our annual Christmas celebration. You are welcome to join us, if you please."

"I might just take you up on that." He replied. Suddenly, he stopped himself, and gestured to both of us. "Fred, these are two very good friends of mine. Dame Evie Frye, and her twin brother, Sir Jacob Frye."

Fred shook our hands with an infectious smile on his cheeks. "Fred Harris. Truly a pleasure, as any friend of Charles can call themselves friends of mine."

"Thank you, Fred." Evie said. "Care to sit for a drink with us?"

"No, I'm afraid not." He said, taking his pocket watch out, and checking it. "I must be heading back home after I check in on my uncle." He looked almost said at the mention of the man. "He truly is a lonely man, he is. I hope he would take my offer to join in the festivities this year, though I grow less hopeful with each passing year." His smile returned as he put his top hat on his head. "In any case, you are welcome to stop by our place for the celebrations as well, Sir and Dame Frye. I must be off, though. Charles."

He turned with a nod, and walked out into the street, the night just coming alive outside as the lamplighters took their rounds, with the snow still tumbling down hard.

I almost started to see gears turning in Charles' head as he sat up in his seat, but as soon as I noticed it, it disappeared. He grabbed hold of his pint and took a large swig.

"I really should be heading home as well, my friends." He said. "If you'll excuse me." He got up, scratching at his moustache.

"Allow me to take you home, Charles. I could use a bit of fresh air." Evie said.

"Excellent, Miss Frye. Thank you."

"Jacob." Evie gave a nod to me. "See you back home."

I smirked up at them. "Yep. See you back home. Glad to have you home, by the way, dear sister."

After they left, I ordered another pint, then after finishing that, I headed out into the snow. I felt a great sort of feeling come over me. This season was coming alive as ever as I heard more carolers about outside.

"Repeat the sounding joy/ Repeat the sounding joy/ Repeat, repeat the sounding joy."

I pulled my hat down over my forehead as I trudged through the snow. I couldn't help but smile as I passed them.

"You have a Merry Christmas, sir!" One called to me.

"Aye!" I replied. "To you as well!"

I crossed the road from the pub and started heading towards the train yard. I could tell the train would be passing by soon, and it was getting dark very quickly.

As I walked down a darkened alley to the yard, I spotted a small boy looking through the garbage barrels. He noticed me, but then looked down, as though trying not to be seen.

Something about how he looked to me seemed to spark something. I thought about how Evie and I spent our time breaking all those children free of the factories they had to work in under Starrick's boot, and Clara, how she was such a good helper for us. Even that little boy, who snatched my coin purse the very first hour that we had stepped into London. I always had believed that he had nicked it just to piss me off, but now, as I saw this boy, I realized something. A lot of the children we had freed really had no real place to go. We'd taken them out from under the fist of horrible men reaping all the gold while they ground their bones away, only for them to end up here on the streets.

"Oi!" I called out. "You!"

The little boy looked up at me, looking quite afraid. "Y-yes sir?" He asked in a small voice. His accent wasn't from here. He sounded American. How did he get all the way here across the Atlantic only to end up on the streets?

As I took a step forward, I noticed that he wasn't small at all. He actually looked older than fourteen years of age, if I was correct.

"What's your name, boy?" I asked, in a gentle voice.

"S-sorry, sir?"

"Your name." I repeated. "I'd at least hope you have one."

"B-Baelfire, sir." He replied.

What a strange name, I thought. But I paid no notice to it. I felt inspired by Fred and the singers earlier. I reached into my pockets as I walked over.

"Are you cold, Baelfire?" I asked. I didn't even wait for an answer. "Oh, what am I saying? Of course you bloody are. Here." I placed one hand on his shoulder as I took a knee. I looked up at him, smiling. With the other hand I dropped ten one-pound coins into his hand.

"Buy yourself a meal and a room for the night. You shouldn't be out here in the biting cold."

He looked down at the coins, then at me as though I was the maddest person in all of Great Britain. I only grinned to assure him that I was not joking. I had plenty of gold from the pubs the Rooks and I owned, and I would have plenty more even if I were to empty out all my pockets right here and now. Some of it might as well go to someone who needed it for now.

"Thank you, sir!" Baelfire exclaimed, taking the coins and shaking my hand hard. "Thank you so much!"

"Not a worry." I replied. "And you have a Merry Christmas."

"Yes, sir. God bless you!" He ran off into the snow to find someplace warm.

I looked off past the train yard, seeing the lights of Big Ben's face through the night. I felt another kind of joy come over me when I saw the smile on that boy's face instead of the joy I felt when I cut down every bastard foreman running those dangerous factories with the children running them. I felt that I would be talking more with that man, Harris soon enough. I had a thing or two to discuss with him.

I was at the edge of the train yard, and heard our train going through as I vaulted over the picket fence and ran across the rows of tracks before climbing aboard. I think I was feeling particularly merry about this season. Evie was home, and even though Father was gone, we would still make the most out of the season.

A/N: To those who read my crossover, the boy is indeed the same Baelfire. Asgeir had wanted to ask him if he knew the Frye Twins, but never did.