Assassin's Creed Modern One Shots

Ezio's Xmas Special

WARNING: Tiny mentions of the pandemic (purposeful to plot). Also, I'm handling some heavy content part-way through (c@r cr@shes and mentions of d3@th). If that affects you in any offensive or harmful way, this is just an advisory, maybe to give this chapter a miss. Or, you can read the majority of the piece, because I have put a warning where the possible triggering content starts and ends. Again, I love and care for anyone still reading this, and I'd never put something in my work to offend or trigger you intentionally without warning. Anyway, just a little cautionary advice for the stuff to come <3

Again, all translations taken from the novels/games.

It really doesn't feel like the last day before Christmas holidays, you contemplated, as your eyes wandered down the row of adolescents who were laying amongst the grass. Everything was as it was meant to be, except you were all outside for a change, sunbathing on the field, enjoying the cloudless day.

From the end of the train you heard Jacob joking in the direction of his twin sister, chortling to himself about whatever it was he had said to get on Evie's nerves. You cracked a tight-lipped smile as the younger Frye got his comeuppance, a swift elbow to his ribs did the trick and the tables had turned. Jacob's sounds contorted into ones of pain, now it was Evie who was wheezing due to hysterical laughter.

Shaking your head the best you could from where you lay in Altaïr's arms, you settled back down, allowing the boy spooning you to comb his squared fingers through your hair. The alternative scenery was soothing, especially after sitting stationary in the auditorium for an hour, listening to Principal Crawford Starrick drone on about students' academic achievements, handing out awards and announcing the top scholar for the year; almost all of which had nothing to do with you.

Being no child prodigy, there was always a kid better than you at a certain subject. Eventually, you gave up trying to master all the trades and stuck to what you did best. Of course, it didn't stop you from feeling pride in the accomplishments your friends had made during the year.

It was Evie who had received the honour of top scholar, seizing the trophy with subtle abhorrence, as if an award given by Starrick was no award at all. You applauded, even when the only certificate Jacob attained was one handed over by your tyrannical physical education teacher, Edward Braddock, who had an ever-lasting sneer plastered onto his sagging, red face. It was astounding to hear Aveline was presented a cheque for her contributions in the nation-wide wearable arts competition, money that went towards funding the school. To your surprise, Ezio was commended for how he excelled in maths and accounting, which he whooped and danced at his success, obliterating any formality he had strutting up to obtain the leaflets.

It was all well and good to acknowledge fellow students doing great things, but the three hour assembly was simply mundane. At timed intervals, you found yourself drifting off, daydreaming to dismiss anything spilling from the mouth of the alternating teachers at the lectern.

And you weren't the minority.

You had spotted Arno, whose lips had stretched into an 'o' shape, silently yawning; Jacob was mouthing the word 'boring' or various other foul words at students and teachers alike, without getting caught by staff. Connor was getting notably antsy too, squirming in his seat at least twice before surrendering to the cold, hard truth: there was no comfort during an assembly. Altaïr was up the back and had zoned out completely, the emotionless mask he wore fit perfectly, collecting the attention he needed: none. None of the teachers batted an eyelid at Desmond for the entire congregation, the boy had busied himself with chatting to Lucy, Rebecca and Shaun. Although Shaun wasn't having a bar of it, regardless of what Desmond was rattling on about. No one noticed you peeking around, as you managed to pinpoint and observe all the locations and doings of your mates.