The Right Side

Reunited

Now properly dressed, Clarke exits the mansion silently so she wouldn't grab the attention of the other Templars. It's not like she was avoiding them, only that she wished to leave without further inconveniences or distractions.

Pulling herself up on her white horse, the girl starts into town. The Green Dragon is in the northern side of Boston, so it shouldn't take her too long to get there. The only thing she worried about was who it might be. She honestly had no friends outside of Haytham and Charles. And the only other people she knew were Achilles and Connor. Jack was in prison and Shay in France. Who could it be?

The tavern comes into view slowly, Clarke realizing that she's slowed the horse down. Was she nervous? That's a possibility, of course. But the information they had sounded important.

Tying her horse to the post outside the tavernC the blonde hesitates before entering. She couldn't remember the last time she was in a pub, it probably being a long time ago. The smell of ale reached her nose and the sound of chatter reached her ears. Men clanked their mugs together, women dressed in scandalous dresses, and soldier laughed loudly while on their break.

Unsure of who the girl was to look for, she takes a seat at the bar. She's plenty old enough to drink, but it smelled disgusting and her stomach was being sensitive as it is.

"You look lonely," the hostess says as she pours a couple of drinks. "Waiting on someone?"

"Yeah," Clarke nods. "Not sure sure though."

"Oh you're one of those. Well, there's plenty of men in the back corner. I know they wouldn't mind your company."

"What? No no! I got a letter from someone, they told me to meet them here. I don't... I'm sorry, I have someone at home."

"He doesn't have to find out," the woman winked before walking around the bar, towards said group of men.

With a small groan, Clarke puts her head in her hands. Whoever this is, it best be important. She could be home, she could be getting to Washington. There's so many things she could be coming and yet here she is, surrounded by drunkards and women who sell their bodies.

"Yer lookin' pretty glum, blondie," comes a voice as someone sits next to her. "And you've got rid of yer hair, huh? Looks good on ya."

The girls' shoulders tense up, eyes slowly moving to her right. She's going insane. That's the only explanation. There's no way in hell that none other Han Thomas Hickey was sitting in front of her, an idiotic grin on his face.

"Oh, ya look pale. Right, ya probably think I was dead an' all. Damn native got a good hit on me though." He moves the collar of his shirt, showing a large scar on the side of his neck, by his collar bone. "Thought I was gonna die. But I didn't. Some guy got me help, it's crazy what he knows."

"H-How're you..." the blonde shakes her head, trying to put together everything. She's been so angry for so long because he's been dead but now... here he is. In front of her. Talking. She has to be going insane, there's all that makes sense.

"Clarke," he shifts a bit closer to her, face growing serious. "I know ya saw me. On the ground an' bleedin'. I should've died. I watched you runnin' at 'im. I know ya hit him, I saw it all. I was bleedin' it but he didn't kill me. He broke a few bones, yeah. An' I couldn't walk for almost a month. But I'm 'ere. Promise yer not nuts. You believe me, yeah?"

Clarke is silent, her small hands coming to gently take ahold of his. She felt him. She smelled him. He smelled like coffee, all the time. Even now the coffee drowned out the smell of alcohol. "You're alive," her voice cracked on the second word. "Who..."

"Some man escaped from the prison an' he came to help me. Said he 'members me in there. 'Members you, too. An' he wants to help kill ol' Georgie, that's wha' I had to tell you. Not sure if the other guys are doin' somethin' else, you're the one who told me you wanted to kill 'im. Whaddya say? Ya up for it?"

"U-uh... yeah, yeah," Clarke nods quickly. "Yeah, were um... actually planning it. It's a long story, but Connor won't be a problem anymore."

"Ah good, he was annoyin'. Now we'll kill him easily, 'specially with the new member. He's got skills ya know, big time. Saw him fight down five guys on his own!"

"That's... impressive," the girl says slowly, eyes moving to the scar on his neck. She bit her lip, feeling herself want to cry. "I've missed you, Thomas. A lot."

"Oh, I know," he moves forward, giving her a hug. "I'm sorry blonde, he couldn't get to ya sooner. When he says I was good enough to leave, I had to see ya. First thing I did. But I left ya for so long. Are you doin' okay? Her hairs all gone."

"Yeah," Clarke lets out a sad laugh, hugging him tighter. "Yeh, I got rid of it. It's better this way, no one can pull it. God knows that happens too much."

"I'm sure Kenway liked pullin' her hair, how's he fell 'bout it?"

"He likes it, Charles does too."

"Good, good. Looks nice. Come on," he pulls away from her gently, ruffling her hair as he gives a smile. "Could ya give me a ride home? An' tell me everythin' I've missed?"

"Yeah," she nods. "Lets go home."

// AND HES NOT DEAD! Honestly I wrote this chapter two different ways, but I decided on this one so the chapters ahead could be more interesting than them just going to kill Georgie. This story's ending up longer than I thought, and it keeps going! I hope you enjoy! //