Chapter Text
Whitechapel, 1868
The hum of the train as its wheels sent small tremors when it crossed rails, hanging chandelier lights flickering and glasses sitting atop shelves chiming. The documents before her were illuminated by candlelight, shadows withdrawing from yellow fluorescent as black cursive handwriting blurred together. Fatigue tugged at your mind, enduring hours of research, scanning the documents Evie and Henry had collected at the Kenway mansion, jotting down any relevant information that may play an importance into the uncovering the Shroud’s location. However casting a glance to your right, eyes meeting a single white sheet, you sighed, brows furrowing as you lowered your head in defeat, your index and middle fingers releasing the tension in your temples. You had agreed to aid Evie in her search, as gathering intel and research was more your forte than fieldwork, and your task by keeping to the shadows, spying on the younger Frye twin was tedious, although you understood Henry’s growing concern for London’s liberation and the Assassin’s exposure to the Templars as Jacob was rambunctious.
Despite his Assassin upbringing, Jacob doesn’t follow the Creed. Rather than hiding in plain sight, it had appeared to you that he seeks every opportunity possible to make his presence known to the people of England, and already hushed rumours and voices whispering about the mysterious Frye boy had begun circling around the streets of London. Much like provoking a hornet’s nest, word didn’t take long to travel to the ears of Starrick and his men, and you had witnessed the Blighters haunt the streets with prying eyes.
Their search for Jacob had ended in more slit throats than successes as you had seen to it that the Assassins remain anonymous, appearing that they were still intimidated by Starrick’s reign of terror. You disagreed in acting in such a way where you murdered outright, though you hadn’t many options: let them live and they will feed information to Starrick; silence them and the Assassins will have the advantage and the element of surprise. You would always bid them a respectful goodbye before their descent into the afterlife, knowing that working as a puppet for their master had led them astray and ignorant, but no amount of ignorance would excuse them for the amount of crimes they had caused or the amount of innocent lives lost for their cause.
The car had bobbed due to a weight, and you had sensed another presence. You glanced over your shoulder, watching as Jacob saunter into the room, hands tucked behind his back as he leered over the documents on the desk. Hastily, you gathered the papers together and placed them towards the corner furthest from his sight as Jacob stood with a gaping mouth, eyebrows slightly raised.
“I wasn’t finished,” he said, arm attempting to snatch the documents as you batted his hand away. You often wondered whether you were assigned a nursemaid mission from Henry rather than a simple spy-and-trail mission, considering Jacob has the mentality of a child and he is just as restless and temperamental as one. Finally, he had managed to snag the documents, hazel eyes scanning the paper rapidly.
“Do tell me why you have such a keen interest in uncovering the Shroud’s location,” you said, arms crossed over your chest as you gave an incredulous look, “especially now, all of a sudden.”
“Oh, so that’s what this is.” Jacob held the documents high, out of your reach, as you knew that he likes teasing you for your small stature (and he may have remarked about it on several occasions).
“Yes,” you said, swiping the documents from his grasp, sorting the papers into a neat pile before placing them on the desk. Jacob was occupying the lounge, his tall stature stretched before it, his right arm slung over the headrest.
“So, uhhh...” his voice trailed. You hunched over the desk, perching the feather quill (and honestly, you never understood Henry’s fondness for antiques) as you begun to formulate notes on your investigation thus far … then drawing up a blank. “How’s that coming along, anyway?”
“I believe Evie may be onto something,” you said, jotting down what little information you had recovered from the documents gathered at the Kenway’s. Names and places littered the blank space, though meaningless to you, you believed Evie may be able to make some understanding of it, given her intelligence and analytical skills as they were vastly superior compared to your own (you were reluctant to admit this, however). “But we’re definitely one step closer to uncovering the Shroud’s location before the Templars, especially with the assistance of Mr Kenway’s notes.”
“Yeah…?” The snap of a hidden blade releasing drew your attention from your note-taking. His position from leisurely lying across the lounge had altered to reclining against the cushions of the armrests. You watched as Jacob adjusted the springs, then release it a second time, and then followed by a third. He was utterly disinterested in the Shroud, and Pieces of Eden in general as he had made that fact evident enough in his criminal activities across London, as he continued to fiddle with the mechanisms of his hidden blade. And quickly, the sound was grating on your nerves.
“Can’t you do something more productive with your time?”
His head lolled over the armrest, neck craning up at you from an upside down position. “Well,” he said, “I was thinking about going to a good ol’ brawl down at the Devil’s Acre.”
You cocked an eyebrow at this. “Something that doesn’t involve criminal activities?”
“Like?” Jacob drawled, fingers tinkering with the hidden blade, springs screeching in protest. “I’ll have you know that brawling isn’t a criminal activity,” he griped.
“Not according to the Coppers.” You shook your head in defeat. You were getting absolutely nowhere with deciphering Mr Kenway’s cryptic letters with Jacob’s nagging and ever persistent voice. “Mr Topping should have been arrested a long time ago.”
“Come now, love, don’t be like that. Bobby’s a good bloke,” Jacob said, standing from the lounge and striding over to you. “Forget about the Shroud. Join me for a drink and a good time at the Devil’s Acre.”
“I have deciphering to do,” you said, firmly.
He took one step towards you, fingers tipping your chin to meet him in the eye. Your breathing hitched at the close proximity, his breathing fanning across your cheeks. You swallowed.
“You’re so uptight.”
You staggered away, fury brewing in the pit of your stomach. “I beg your pardon.”
He raised his arms, letting them fall to his sides in an exasperated manner. “You heard me.”
“I am not...” you begun, voice falling flat as you attempted to muster more fury to your words, “uptight!”
“You’re right,” Jacob said, his answer catching your defence. “That was a little harsh for me to say. You’re really no fun at all. You’re all...” His hand gestured to you, “work and no play.”
“It’s called dedication.” Your eyebrows furrowed with irritation.
“No, I believe it’s called an addiction,” he retorted. You gathered the documentations, placed them to the side as you scribbled an apology to Evie and a quick briefing on what you were able to recover, before finally signing ‘Best of luck’ after your scriptum (honestly, she needed it). You pivoted, slightly startled by Jacob standing a meter behind you, your heart beating furiously against your ribcage as you muttered a profanity. His expression was serious, and you felt shivers go down your spine from the intensity of his gaze.
“One night,” he said.
“What?”
“All I’m asking for is just one night,” he clarified as his expression and gaze softened.
Your defences lowered.
“All right...” Jacob brightened at your agreement, hazel eyes gleaming with mischief. “But just this once,” you said, firmly, as he nodded his head in understanding (though you knew he was just nodding along in order to further persuade you).
“Atta girl.” You could hear the smile in his tone, though you hadn’t glanced at him. “I knew you couldn’t resist me for long.” You did, however, watch as he placed his top hat upon his head as the train came to a ceasing halt, your body jerking forward as you reclaimed your balance. Jacob was already off the train as you met him at the opening of the car, and you spied him melting into the crowded gatherings at the station.
“Come along now!” he called. “The night is still young! No needn’t be wasting it!”
Already, you were regretting your decision.