Templar AU - for Mako

[lifescratched]

Ratonhnhaké:ton -- or Edward, as his European name was, so named after his long-departed grandfather -- lead a dual life. He had lived a peaceful childhood in the village, playing and exploring and learning as any child did. But when he turned ten, his father had taken over raising him, and it was from that point he taught him everything he knew. Of the Order, their ideals, how to think, how to fight, how to navigate in the world of the colonists and to understand it as they did. Edward had not wanted to be parted from his village, from his mother, but from all that Haytham taught him, it soon became apparent that the Templars had the means to protect their home more effectively than he or his mother ever could alone. The colonists were ever more hungry for land, and the power and influence of the Order could quell that, seize power, fight back.

It was a philosophy of absolute control, with no margin for uncertainty or disappointment. It appealed to Edward, although more often than not his father treated him with a certain cold distance, sending him away to instead work and learn from William Johnson. Johnson was liked and trusted by the Kanien'kehá:ka. Edward, now seventeen, had grown to respect the man, but towards the end of his instruction, he had begun to insist more and more that Edward would need to adopt Christianity, if he wished to truly become a full-fledged Templar. The result was an explosive argument between the two.

After that, Edward took his belongings and left the Mohawk Valley, making back for his father's estate in Virginia alone. Of course, when he arrived, his father was nowhere to be found, away on business elsewhere in the colonies.

Always away on business. Only there to instruct him, to give him guidance. And yet the fatherly gestures Haytham sometimes displayed -- those made Edward stay. Those, and the promise he would have the power to protect his people.

The days trickled by. He wrote to his father, to no reply as of yet. He read. He studied. He helped on the plantation and he practised his swordplay. But he was becoming restless, and one morning, when he was poring over a news article (some nonsense about a Tea Act causing unrest in the colonies), a servant barged into the room, breathless.

"Many apologies for interrupting you, Master Kenway, but there's a woman approaching the estate on horseback."

Edward looked up, eyes flashing impatiently. "Well? Who is it?"

"I don't know, sir, but I think it might be your mother."

What was she doing here? Already in a foul mood, he rose, abandoning the paper to go to meet her. He couldn't imagine why she would come all this way to see him, but he didn't doubt it would end badly.

Comments

[nottheproblem]

There was undoubtedly a degree of bitterness that stayed in Ziio's heart. The son she birthed and sired for the refined Haytham Kenway was the very same son nearly stripped from her. True, that he could provide a life for Ratonhnhaké:ton that she couldn't. Comfort, luxury, and convenience. Her life had only ever been one of hardship and to a certain degree, Ziio would have preferred the better life for him, but not at the cost of the values of their people. She had a number of reservations about allowing her first and only child under the proverbial wings of Templars.

Achilles had warned her, had chided her nearly, and it was something she never forgot any time she'd had the privilege to work arm-in-arm with the Brotherhood. The very word itself, Templar, left a taste so foul that Ziio found much of her idle thoughts along regret and remorse for having let her son go.

I should have fought harder for him, she told herself often, as if a reminder of what she truly wanted for him and for them.

A family? The romantic notion wasn't lost on her. If she could have obtained it, reached out and grabbed it, she would have without a moment's hesitance. Yet she and Haytham were both born of stubborn heads, like elks battling with their horns for dominance. It left only a great deal of tension between them and inevitably a poor lifestyle for their son- something else that consistently displeased her. Despite that, however, she took to routine check ups, even if it meant not coming in person, and simply watching from shadows or bartering the assistance of outsiders, hidden eyes that did her work when she couldn't.

One day, she'd take him back and push out those Templar ideals that she worried would control him the way they did his father. For Edward to be obsessed with his work was not something she had the desire to see. He was just a boy, only a boy, and he should have been granted the right to an adolescence. And if Haytham would not entitle him to it, then she would have to find a way to, even if she didn't know how just yet.

That lifestyle didn't suit her and any approach she ever made, like the one to see him, made that apparent. She only ever looked as she did with the forest, one with it, and saturated with earthy fragrance and the strength of will that she could only get from survival and adaptability. And though she wore confidence, her insides could only hope that he wouldn't hate so much to see her, even if only briefly.