assassin's creed imagines

Unlikely Ally | Haytham Kenway

With your heart pounding in your chest, you ran as fast as your legs could carry you. Your previous intentions had caught the attention of some guards who just so happened to be walking by, seeing you try to kill someone for an Assassination Contract given to you by Achilles hadn't exactly gone over well with them. They of course pursued you, calling for you to stop, but you didn't have time to react and just ran in the other direction. Which leads to the situation now, you running down the streets of New York with a growing mob of redcoats right behind you.

Looking back at the many red faced guards who looked infuriated that you were making them run this much, you pushed yourself to go faster. You figured if they caught you by some miracle, they would either kill you right then and there, or take you to their Grandmaster. Which, coincidentally, happened to be the best friend of the man you were trying to kill. The contract Achilles gave you was to end the life of the man who betrayed the Assassin Brotherhood, Shay Patrick Cormac. But he managed to slip through your fingers while you were preoccupied with the guards. If you made it back to the homestead, you had a growing feeling of dread in your stomach about the lecture Achilles was going to give you.

You suddenly turned a sharp corner, thinking you could lose them in some back alleyways since you knew the streets like the back of your hand. The mud on the freshly wet ground coupled with the stench of trash was enough to make you scrunch up your nose in disgust. The alleys of New York were never your favorite place, and yet as part of your Assassin training Achilles made you study every street for miles. He had you walking the streets and taught you to study your surroundings, saying that was they key to figuring out where you were and a good start on how to find your way back home.

Running back out onto the Main Street, you snatched a look over your shoulder to see the redcoats still right behind you. By the time you turned around to look ahead of you, you had managed to slam into another person. Not really paying attention or looking up to see their face, you said your apologies and tried to escape the person holding you in their arms. But the person wouldn't let you go. You were confused, your brows furrowing inwards as to why this stranger, a man you presumed from how hard and flat his chest was, wasn't letting you keep running. The first thing you noticed about the mystery man, since your face was practically shoved into his chest, was the royal blue color of his soft robes. You could tell the man was rich, sensing so from the gold detailing and brass buttons attached to the coat. That, coupled with the wonderfully rich way he smelled.

The man suddenly decided to pull you away from his chest and push you behind him, shielding you from the Redcoats fast approaching. "Get back here you little- oh! Grandmaster! I'm sorry, I didn't realize-" One of them spoke, bending over slightly and panting heavily. They were all panting, their faces beet red and their chests rising and falling rapidly as their bodies tried to supply oxygen quick enough. But now seeing the back of his robes and finally getting a good look at his tricorn hat, your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. The man protecting you was the Grandmaster of the Templar Order, Haytham Kenway. How ironic, a Templar protecting an Assassin.

"What seems to be the problem here, gentleman?" Haytham asked the redcoats, his refined British accent broke the silence of the abandoned street in New York. It was almost midnight, everyone was in their homes trying to rest before having to get up at the crack of dawn to try to earn a living. He still stood in front of you, shifting lightly every once in a while when you tried to peek out and see around his shoulders. The action made you internally roll your eyes, never having the courage to actually do the action face to face.

"Well, um, that there Assassin," the guard said the word with such disgust, "tried to kill Master Cormac, then the wench tried to run away." The redcoat grumbled as he gripped his musket tighter in between his hands, his eyes shifting from you to Haytham, anxiously awaiting a response from either of you. "Well if you hadn't have interrupted, I would have succeeded." You sarcastically commented, scoffing at the end and shifting nervously in your spot as you saw the guards eyes widen and itching to take a few steps forward. Haytham turned his head to look at you from over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes screaming 'stop talking', then he finally turned back around to the redcoats.