Assassins' Creed Oneshots

|44|. Arno ♡ IV

Double update ;) -Kia C.

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THE COST OF HER LOVE:

Reencounters and Rain

Years had passed since then and (Y/n) had left the country, making the tough decision to go back to England. There was nothing there for her other than work and people who had betrayed her in the past but it was better than heartbreak.

England was infested with Templars, the Brotherhood weakened fatally, so there was always something to be done. There were many Americans there too now, having fled the colonies when the land was liberated from the crown. Not all of them had supported the revolution — some hoarded the benefits of the British rule.

She had aged slightly now, her hair had been cut shorter at the front to frame her face, her hands were roughened from life as an assassin and she'd learned a great many things: of history, of languages, of skills, of weapons, of people, of politics, of the ones who came before.

But she had never learned how to move on.

She'd buried her letters from Arno in a sealed box — she didn't have the heart to burn them but couldn't bear to look upon them again. They were secure in the ground below the tunnel which led to the Parisian brotherhood hideout.

No matter how much she tried, she couldn't find eyes for anyone else and she had tried, oh she had tried many a time, but any touch that wasn't his simply didn't feel right.

She had had to find joy in new things: the arts simply reminded her of Arno too much. She studied history and botany instead, leaving poetry and artists behind her.

She never planned on setting foot in France again, it was a country of heartbreak to her. But now she wasn't exactly faced with a choice.

"I did all I could there! The British brotherhood is weak! My work is better placed here!" She protested, facing the council.

"The Parisian brotherhood is facing threats once more: Templars seeking pieces of Eden, rebellions still being stirred, even after Robespierre's death. You worked well under the creed there and we have already arranged with the French council to send you back to Paris." They watched her look down at the floor, scrunching her eyes shut. But she refused to abandon the creed that she served.

"When does the ship leave for Calais?" She sighed, knowing that they had presented this as a choice even though it had already been arranged.

"Three days from now. You'll be travelling with George and Albert."

"Understood." And she bowed before leaving. Her face pulled down in a bitter frown as she walked to her room to pack her things. George was a dear friend of hers but Albert was unbearable. He was invasive and insensitive and, quite frankly, she hated his very presence; something about it just weighed down one's spirits and made kept them on edge.

(Y/n) made a start on packing all her clothes and weapons, stashing a few books for leisure in her bag along with her wash-bag and her makeup. She added a small box of stationary and her journal too before deeming her small apartment empty. She had left most of her belongings back in France, anyway, when she fled in such a hurry to leave everything behind.

Many of the Assassins in this branch of the brotherhood lived in the same neighbourhood, keeping them close and making it easier to train. She did this too, dedicating her life to her work as an assassin once she had left France.