A friend of mine gave me a challenge. Have you ever heard of Bechdel test? Take a look in Wikipedia. Well, my friend gave me the challenge and this is what came out.

The next morning, when Evie woke up the men had cleared out of the base for the day. She sat up stretching in her brother's bed and took in the surroundings. It was uncharacteristically tidy for Jacob. A few articles of clothing lay about the room, but other than that, it was neat. The few knifes left on his dresser were discarded once, she thought seeing the nags in the edges. Did someone clean up after him she wondered, or did he feel compelled to keep it tidy as a part of his status as the gang leader? She pulled on her boots and walked into the office. A note lay pinned beneath her gauntlet on the table. A note form her brother. He had left for the day, then. She folded out the piece of paper and read:

Evie

Mrs Cutler will make you breakfast when you get up.

Hope you slept well.

When I left, you looked like that dead sheep we found when we were six, so I guess you did.

Give my regards to Henry when you see him.

Jacob

She smiled at her brothers words while putting on the gauntlet, then folded up the note and stowed it away in the inside pocket of her coat. Being close to her brother was so rare these days, and mostly involved trying to make him act sensible. Las night had been a reminder of what their relationship was like, before coming to London. At least that was a comfort. She still dreaded facing Henry, later in the day. She needed to make him an apology, but somehow it felt easier now her head was clearer.

She walked into the dining hall and found the matron just finishing tidying up after breakfast, cleaning the tables and changing the burned down candles from last night.

"Ah, Miss Frye. Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," she smiled.

"You just take a seat, and I'll have someone bring you breakfast in a minute." The woman walked off to the kitchen stairs as Evie sat down to wait. She had never seen the dining hall empty, and studied the room while she waited. She had to give Jacob credit for finding this place. The base was a great asset to the Rooks and with Mrs Cutler running it; it seemed to function like a well-oiled machine. Maybe the Matron was the reason for her brothers unusual tidiness, Evie mused to herself.

The door downstairs to the kitchen opened and the footsteps ascending brought a slight rumble in her stomach as the wafts breakfast emerged. Elisabeth brought her the warm meal; ham and eggs and freshly baked bread, hot from the oven.

"Thank you, Elisabeth. This looks lovely," Evie said.

The girl smiled and her hand trailed up to stroke her fringe aside before pulling back the lock of hair hanging down to her cheek. She wore her hair in a loose braid, falling softly over her shoulder. The hair was wavy, and framed her face beautifully, but the girl did not seem to know how pretty she was. No wonder Jacob was attracted.

"Will you join me?" Evie asked, "I mean, only if you have the time and want to. I would not want to keep you if you are busy."

Elisabeth broke into a smile.

"They encourage me to the point of nagging to take breaks," she said gesturing towards the kitchen, "so thank you; I'd love to keep you company." She gathered her skirt with one hand and sat down by the table.

"How are you doing?" Evie asked. "After the injury, I mean."

"It's coming along. I hardly ever get spells of dizziness these days," she shot a glance towards the kitchen. "Moreover, Mrs Cutler watches me like a hawk and makes sure I don't over work myself."

"I do not know if Jacob told you, but I was there when they brought you back. I really feared we would lose you that night. We all did."

Elisabeth stirred on her seat and her hands clenched.

"Mm," she said. The thought of that night clearly made her uneasy. Evie ate, feeling the awkward silence and wondered if Elisabeth was offended.

"I did not mean to…" she began, but was interrupted when Elisabeth met her gaze and said:

"What's it like?"

"Hm?"

"What's it like to be an Assassin?" she said. Her face flushed red and she fidgeted with the braid. "I mean; what's it like to know you can defend yourself, and do the things you do?"

"It is…" Evie had never really thought to put what that meant into words before. No one had ever asked her bluntly like Elisabeth. Most people were too polite to ask her directly. Instead, their minds usually trailed away in curious wonder while she was trying to make conversation. Evie found she liked this upfront approach better.

"It feels good," she said. "I feel like I can make a difference in this world. I get to derive strategies and directions and decide missions thereafter. It is most fulfilling work." She paused thinking for a moment.

"Men do not always trust in my abilities, but most times I am able to gain their respect by solving their problems, or if need be, by force."

She smiled at the thought. There was less need for forced respect these days than in the beginning when they had first arrived in London. Henry was the only one except for Jacob, who did not at least inwardly question her potential back then. The thought of Henry furrowed her brow slightly.

"Sometimes it is terrifying; when something goes wrong and things seem to spiral out of control, but when I succeed…When I get to free children from a factory or steal clues form under the Templars noses; it is the best feeling in the world."

Elisabeth watched her, enthralled. She sat silent and waited for Evie to continue, a light of admiration in her light blue eyes.

Evie took another bite and chewed. She was not sure what more to say. With a feeling of guilt, she realized she had come to take her independence for granted. She looked at the girl in front of her and with a pang; she recognized what could have been if she had not received training. If her father had never returned from India, or decided that she was just a girl and should be brought up as one. Buying time to find something to say she took another bite of breakfast, but instead, a long buried memory surfaced in her mind.

Her arms hurts as she raises her fists and her legs feels as if there are led weights tied to them. Jacob is in front of her, just as tired, just as weighed down by fatigue as she is. She shifts to the right, trying to keep moving as she is supposed to, but her feet are all but dragging through the sawdust cowering the floor of the chilly basement. She is not cold or hungry; they are fed well. She is not even thirsty just worn out beyond coherent thinking. That is no excuse, and therefore the training continues.

Jacob launches himself at her. She sidesteps, as quickly as her tired body is able to react. It's nearly enough. His fist connects with her side, instead of her centre and he stumbles. She growls and aims a knee at his gut, but misestimates his direction and misses him completely. When she's not able to stop the momentum of the movement, she fall to her knees on the floor.

So tired!

Having found his feet again Jacob is about to throw himself on top of her, but stops when her father's voice resounds against the vaulted ceiling.

"STOP!"

Her muscles screams at the effort of getting back up as Ethan crosses the floor.

"Jacob; you're leaving your side is completely open and Evie; what the hell was that?"

He gestures irritated and points out their flaws, while Jacob pouts and crosses his arms over his chest.

"If we could just take a break…" she knows he will not let them, but at this point, she is so tired she is willing to beg. Her father turns his back on them and walks back out of the ring.

"There will be no breaks until you fight properly. Stop milling about!"

Despair and fatigue mixes into anger, she pushes her bottom lip out and glares at him. He turns and meets her gaze, an unflinching and unyielding stare.

"Again!" he says and there is no defying him. It is either facing Jacob, or facing him, and between the two of them, she prefers her brother any day.

She grits her teeth and takes a stance, feeling the fatigue burn in her muscles. Jacob meets her gaze just as hazy with exhaustion as her own, and suddenly she cannot do it, cannot bear to go on. Tears wells in her eyes, clouding her sight and a sob leaves her chest. Her countenance falters and her hands falls to her side as the tears rolls freely down her cheeks.

"AGAIN!" he fathers voice booms out in anger taking a step in their direction, but Jacob has had enough.

"Leave her ALONE!" he shouts, stepping in between them. Her chest surges with love for her brother, for always being there to defend her, for taking her side, even if it is just their father and a training session.

"Jacob, step aside," Etah orders, his voice controlled in anger.

"No!" Jacob has his fists up and his eyes fixed on their father. "Give her a break," he demands.

Ethan eyes his son in silence. A flash of what could have been pride flutter in his eyes for a brief moment, but the children both know that it is just a pause before the confrontation. When he moves, it is like a whirl of dark material. At thirteen years of age, their fathers speed rarely surprizes them anymore, but now they are both exhausted. Jacob does his best to avoid the blow aimed at his knee, but reacts too late and hits the floor with Ethan looming over him. Lying on his back in the sawdust, he struggles against his father as he is being pinned to the ground.

"You are not protecting her this way, Jacob," Ethan says. "She has to learn to fight through it. She has to be strong and though, and right now you're not helping."

There is a tone of desperation in his voice. He lets go of Jacob and rises, turning his back on them, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Jacob, leave us. You are done, for now."

Jacob pulls himself to his feet and shoots a devastated glance her way. They both know, protesting is to no avail, and yet Jacob remains until she waves him off.

When Ethan turns to face her, she flinches involuntarily and for a split second, she sees a flash of pain flutter over his features. Fretfully she lifts her slightly shaking fists and takes a stance once more.

She had seen that look of pain on her father's face several times over the years, usually when she had succumbed to fatigue or failed to meet his standards. It sometimes haunted her sleep; that he was disappointed in her.

She had no energy to brood over her failure that night as her father proceeded with her training; however, sitting in the dining hall with Elisabeth, that memory took on another meaning. Suddenly she realized it was fear driving her father that night. Fear of what would happen if he did not succeed to make his daughter an assassin, fear that she would be defenceless against the Templars.

Evie's attention returned to her surroundings and she felt as if something constricted her insides, the girl opposite the table an image of her father's darkest fear. Furthermore, she realized Elisabeth too gazed into a mirror reversed; what could have been if her father had not died. Another life completely from what she had had so far. They both knew it as their eyes met across the table. It left Evie heartbroken.

Elisabeth noted the sadness in Evie's eyes and pulled her gaze away.

"I'm sorry Elisabeth. I know your father did not want this life for you," Evie said quietly.

"Your pity will not change what my life has been," Elisabeth said and moved uneasy in her seat.

"You are right. Forgive me, Elisabeth. I did not mean to pity you." Evie felt wretched. How was it that she was always the one to put her foot in her mouth? Jacob was the brash one, but he always seemed to know what to say in situations like these.

"There is nothing to forgive." Elisabeth turned back to face her, and her eyes were earnest when she spoke. It eased Evie's worries as Elisabeth continued.

"I have come to terms with my past. In some aspects, I do not regret it. It made me strong, and while I was there, I was able to make life easier for the other children. They needed someone to look out for them, and in the end, I was the only one to do so. I taught a few of them to read and write. I made sure those who needed it got a little extra food. I got really good at pinching what I could in the kitchen. They were small victories, but wherever I could oppose the management and make things better for the other orphans I would. I think that's what kept me sane."

Evie looked slightly amazed at Elisabeth. The girl's positive attitude towards her past made an impression with her, and she vowed never to underrate her childhood again. There was one thing that puzzled her thought.

"How old were you when you came there? I thought you were only three or four?"

Elisabeth nodded. "I don't know exactly how old I was, but that's about right."

"Then who taught you to read and write?"

The question brought a lopsided smile and a mischievous glance in Elisabeth's gaze. She let out a short laugh and said:

"My father taught me on the voyage to England. One of the assistant nurses discovered I could read, and took it upon herself to teach me further. Reading and writing was redeemed unnecessary for the likes of orphans, and we were not supposed to learn, however, I was so young, no one suspected what was going on. In the end, it was discovered after a couple of years, and the nurse was given the slip, but I had already learned, and more with me. On the nurse's advice, I read anything I could get my hands on and wrote with a stick in the dirt in the yard. It vexed the rest of the management greatly, which made me all the more ardent to keep going over the years."

The story made Evie laugh and brought a smile to Elisabeth's face.

"If I had not been there, then I would not have come here either. I can't imagine a life without the friends that I have made here," she said.

There was an honest smile on her lips and in her eyes, before she looked away out the window to the yard. Her gaze became more pensive then, as she continued.

"I felt like a prisoner before the injury, forced to stay here, until I understood they really cared about me and not just my father's book. I understand now, that safety is important and I am contented to stay." She shot a glance at her hands, and then looked back out the window.

Evie found herself doubting her words. They were spoken truly, but that contentedness would surely wear off after a while, given the girls history. If she had opposed the Templar management all her childhood, the threat of Templars would not make her stay content inside the base forever.

"Mm," she replied, making a mental note of talking to Jacob about it.

Elisabeth sighed slightly.

"I wish this place had a garden, though," she said and gave Evie an embarrassed smile, twisted the loose lock of hair around her finger, her focus drifting away again.

Evie had finished breakfast and put down the cutlery.

"Thank you for the lovely meal," she said, "and for keeping me company. Please give Mrs. Cutler my regards; I have to get going now."

They both rose to their feet and Elisabeth followed her to the door. There Evie took her hand and squeezed it.

"I hope I can call on you sometime?"

"I would be delighted if you did," Elisabeth said.

"Then I surely will." She gave the girl an earnest smile, happy to make her acquaintance.

Evie pulled up the hood as she entered the yard, and then blinked to have the world fade into greys. After checking the surroundings and finding no sign of Blighters, she turned at the gate to wave good-bye to Elisabeth standing in the doorway, before walking off down the street.

Elisabeth remained watching with keen interest until Evie rounded the corner. Then she walked back inside, a satisfied smile slowly spreading on her face.