The Right Side

Pain

Clarke woke up in a bed that she's never slept in, looking around and realizing she wasn't in her room, either. The memories of last night hit her like a brick, a small smile creeping across her face as she attempted to turn on her back. Her back hit something large and warm, glancing over and seeing Haytham with an arm around her waist. This only made her smile more, seeing him with such a calm look on his face.

Deciding it was time for her to get up, the blonde attempted to sit up slowly. The arm around her only tightened and pulled her closer. At that, she laughed.

"Haytham, the sun is up. And we should be too."

"We have to pardon Thomas," his voice says, just as deep as it was last night. "I do not wish to see him rather than you."

Clarke took in a small breath, closing her eyes as she remained close to her new lover. "Must you pardon him?"

"Yes, we do. I thought you liked him, what has changed?"

"I did like him. We just... had a disagreement," she lied. "His counterfeiting is what got me hung."

Haytham tensed up, opening his eyes to look at her. "You were charged with murder. Did you...?"

"I killed two of his men. I don't know if I was going to kill him, honestly. I guess we just...argued. So I'm upset with him."

"I can understand that. It will not happen again, I can assure you. Will you at least join me to get him?"

"Yes, of course," she nods. "Anything you need, I'm your girl."

"That you are," he leans in and gently presses a kiss to her lips. "Now go get dressed, I'm sure there is breakfast. If you are hungry, that is."

"Alright, thank you."

Clarke was reluctant to get out of bed, feeling the cold air hitting her naked body and causing her to go pink. Warm blankets were wrapped around her shoulders, and yet another kiss to her neck. She giggled a bit, wrapping the blanket firmly around her body.

"I'll never leave if you keep this up," she says.

"That might not be a bad idea."

"It is, trust me. I'll see you after I'm dressed, alright? Give me five minutes."

"Alright, if you must. I will remember to move your thing in here. If you're comfortable, please don't feel forced."

"I'd love that," Clarke smiled before lifting herself to her feet. As she exited the room, she couldn't help but feel the happiest she's ever felt, knowing that someone cared about her more than anything. Haytham has expressed he cared about her before, but she was worried he would eventually tire of her. Though through their connection last night, it's changed. She knows he'll always be there for her.

Entering her room, she sees that it's been recently cleaned. Her Templar uniform lays on her bed, the small armor parts shining as it's been freshly polished. Her clothes arm free from any dirt or stains, as if it was brand new.

Carefully, Clarke lays the blanket to the side before turning to get dressed. The clothes smell like home. Well, Haytham's home. And without John Pitcairn, William Johnson and Thomas Hickey, it felt a bit too empty. Sometimes the girl wished she couldn't remember those things. She wishes she didn't watch William die. She wishes she and Thomas were friends, like before. She wishes she had interacted with Pitcairn more. But she had to do the right thing, even if it meant getting rid of her friends. No, at this point they were her family.

But you don't give up on family. Should she really be siding against them and going around with Connor?

Running her small fingers through her hair, Clark manages to pull it up in a high ponytail, tying it with a small rope of leather. After slipping her boots and weapons on, she turns on her heel and exits her room. It felt amazing to be back in her uniform, it made her feel safe.

Heading down the hallway and through the living room, the girl freezes in her tracks. Charles Lee, the man whom killed the only family she had left, sat at the table with his back to her. He must have heard her footsteps, for he stood and quickly turned to her. The look on his face... he don't get any sleep last night.

"Clarke-"

"Don't even try to defend yourself!" She snapped automatically, realizing she was being much harder than she intended to be. "You killed my brother! He's dead because of you!"

"Whatever that man told you is a lie," he says in an earnest voice. "I didn't kill anyone!"

"You're lying! I know you attacked the Homestead, you attacked us all! Why would I believe anything you say?"

"If you don't believe me, then believe him!" Pointing behind Clarke, she sees Haytham. But there's another man with him, with dark hair and a scar on his face. He's older, seeming to be just a bit younger than the Grand Master. He's seems familiar, but the girl couldn't quite place it.

"Rose!" The man smiles, his voice being low and a bit strained. "You're alright!"

"Rose?" Clarke blinked, taking a step back. "Do I... know you? My name's-" she paused. "I'm called Clarke, now. I had Amnesia and didn't remember anything. I guess I never thought about my real name."

"You were very young anyway, so I don't think you'd remember me anyway. But, Clarke, I am Shay Cormac. I stayed at the Homestead for a bit with you, your father and brother."

"You're- I do remember you. I thought you left them, the Assassins. I thought you went away, to France."

"I did," he nods. "But I've been contacted by Charles. It seems a few things need to be sorted out. I understand that you've been with an Assassin, recently? And Achilles?"

Clarke nods slowly, moving to press her back to the wall for leverage. "What about them?"

"I'm not sure what they told you, though I'm going to tell you my side. And I promise you, that I will never lie to you or anyone else. At the time, I was an Assassin and in the middle of turning to the Templars. We were sorting out what I should do in order to sneak away. I was with them the night of the attack, and Charles was nowhere near the sight."

"What? But I remember-"

"You had Amnesia, it is normal to remember events but not who was there. If Achilles managed to put in your head that the Templars had done something, you'd most likely our to their side. I've heard that you're a good fighter, Charles wrote quite well about you. Of course they'd want you on their side."

"But I trusted him! He lied to me just so I would join them?"

"I didn't leave the Creed for no reason, Clarke," he tested out her new name. "And the people who attacked the Homestead have attacked before, they're the reason the Assassins hunts us down."

"Who's their leader?"

"Are you sure you'd like to know?"

"Of course! He killed my brother!"

"George Washington."