The Right Side

A Letter

After the events at Fort George, both Charles and Haytham have been taking unnecessary precautions; especially since Shay has left for France yet again and they have a baby on the way. The two men try their best to keep eyes on the girl and keep her safe and entertained, but they can't get rid of the echo inside the large house. They can't get rid of the emptiness that Hickey, William and Pitcairn have left behind.

Trauma from someone close to you dying lasts up to years, and for them it's only been a couple of months. Granted, William died much longer ago, but those three men dying in less than a year has a large effect on the three. Though, the men rarely show their emotions on the topic.

"Depression is a serious matter, Haytham," comes Charles' hushed voice, the two Templars speaking in the early morning of a day that takes place only two weeks after the Fort George attack. "We should have her see a doctor or... have her make friends. She can't be like this, it's unhealthy for her and the baby."

"You think I don't know that?" The Grand Master shook his head, his hat sitting on he table on top of his coat and cloak. For once, he merely wore a white shirt with his pants, Charles in the same state. "If we take her to any doctor, they'll put her in an asylum for merely feeling something they can't understand!"

"Then she needs people outside of us. And honestly, I'm sure we do too. We've gone from the highest to possibly the lowest, we need more people. Even if we just want them to assist with Washington, because we know the three we've lost have wounded us."

Haytham lets out a sigh, glancing at the corridor that leads to the bedrooms. Clarke has yet to get up, though the two men normally wake up with the sun, much earlier than she. "She's having my child, Charles. I've never raised a child, let alone with a woman half my age."

"You'll make a grand father, Haytham," his old friend offers a warm smile, putting a hand on his shoulder before turning to enter the kitchen. "Tea?"

"Please. And a coffee."

"Already on it, don't you worry."

The two go quiet, content with the conversation coming to a close. Though the silence didn't last long, a knock echoing throughout the Kenway mansion. Both men look at each other, neither expecting company. Perhaps Clarke had made an... acquaintance? Unlikely, she's been home most of the time. Other than to run to the market once.

"Allow me," Charles sets the tea and coffee on the counter, wiping his hands on his trousers quickly. Turning for the door, the man takes one of the pistols from the table and sticks it on the holster on his belt, just as a precaution. Making his way over, he casts a glance at Haytham before unlocking and opening the wooden door.

"Who is it?" Haytham asks, watching his companion take something before closing the door.

"Just a messenger, they've brought a letter for Clarke. No idea who it's from, though," he turns to the Grand Master. "They said it's urgent, though. Least that's what they heard. But whoever it's from, has horrible handwriting." He handed it over, showing Haytham the messy name on the front to show who it's for.

"I'll bring it to her," he says, moving to get her cup of coffee. "It's nearly time for her to wake up, anyway. If it's urgent, she best get it right away."

Charles nods, watching him walk down the corridor to his lover. He can't help but want to go with, just to make sure the girl is okay. She's like a younger sister to him, that's something he's come to learn.

The white door opens slowly, the Grand Master entering his room, expecting to see the one he loves sleeping in bed. Though when he sees her hunched over a bucket vomiting, he moves to her side quickly. Setting the letter and coffee aside, he quickly holds back her short hair. While it isn't as long as it used to be, it tends to get in her face all the same.

"My dear, are you alright? Is there anything I can do?" He asks, his other hand rubbing her back.

The girl shakes her head, wiping her mouth with a cloth to her right. Sitting back, she presses her back to the bed. "Morning sickness," she says. "It's normal."

"Right, of course. Well if... you feel up for it, I've brought coffee. And a letter came for you, says to be urgent."

"A letter?" She's handed the vanilla envelope, hesitating before breaking the seal and and opening it. Inside, is a folded piece of paper. Setting the envelope to the side and unfolding the paper, she sees there's not much written on it.

Clarke,

Be a good girl and come talk to me, you haven't seen me in ages. Don't bring anyone, I don't want lovebirds everywhere. I'll be at the Green Dragon Tavern

P.S I know something I need to tell you, but it ain't my place to tell no one.

"Is something wrong?" Her lover asks, not daring to read over her shoulder in case it's private. "Any idea who it might be?"

"No idea," she admits. "I don't know anyone, unless you count Connor and Achilles. But they don't have this sort of grammar or anything." Clarke hesitates, before slowly getting to her feet. "I'm going to go check it out."

"Check it out?" Haytham raises an eyebrow, raising to his feet as well. "Has someone told you something?"

"It's more of an invite."

"Would you like Charles or I to come?"

"No," she shakes her head. "They've got something to tell me, it sounds private. I'm going casual, though, so I don't draw any unwanted attention."

"My love, please be careful," the Grand Master strained. "You and I know it'd be best to allow me to come. Or even Charles."

"Trust me, okay?" The girl gives a gentle smile, leaning up to peck his lips. "I'll be back shortly, thank you for the coffee."

"Of course. Take my horse, don't take longer than need be."

"Not like I have anywhere else to go," she lets out a short laugh. "Now go, I've got to change. And we won't leave if you stay."