A/N: Welcome my friends to the first chapter of Translucence, a story idea that was proposed by Templar's Creed. By the summary, we all know that this is a story set in the alternate universe that was presented in the "Tyranny of King Washington" DLC. In the spirit of that DLC, I had decided to give Haytham Kanien'kéha dress. The dress idea was referenced from a very beautifully drawn picture of Tyranny style Haytham and Ziio. If you haven't seen it, go on over to Google and type "Tyranny Haytham" into the image search. It's pretty easy to spot.

As of right now, I only have the first chapter written, though I hope to get done with the second soon enough. I'm going to just leave this first chapter up for a while and see how it's taken and then I'll begin posting the following chapters. I'll be breaking it up into three parts, much like the actual DLC.

I do not own any of these characters, and as always: please read and review!

Without further ado, I present to you: Translucence!

Translucence

part one: this is how you bring me back to life

CHAPTER ONE: when we collide

It was snowing. The flakes fell soundlessly against the window of Haytham Kenway's room in the Restless Ghost, sparkling in the last rays of sunlight. Although it was quite cold outside, none of it managed to enter the little room the Englishman currently called home. There was a fire roaring at the hearth, spreading a blanket of warmth across the room. Despite the tea he drank and the warmth of the room around him, the Grandmaster was nursing a headache, one that seemed content to eat away at his every thought. He found that, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he could not scribble a single syllable into his journal. In vain, he'd closed it with a huff and now sat with his head bowed at his desk.

Earlier that day, he'd seen the harsher side of his son, who had proclaimed that if either Haytham or Washington followed him, he would not hesitate to kill them. When he had made to take his leave, Haytham had overheard an exchange between Washington and one of the other soldiers. Washington mentioned an Apple. An Apple that plagued him with nightmares. Whenever he spoke of it, his voice grew frantic. He was afraid of it and Haytham's mind went instantly to Birch's theories of the First Civilization. Curiosity had gotten the better of the aging Grandmaster, and he'd stuck around. He watched from afar, scoping out the Commander's every move.

Before long, Washington had retreated to his tent and no noise came from it for some time. Thinking he'd wasted his time, Haytham had just been about to leave when Washington's surprised shout came from within the tent. The Grandmaster maneuvered to get a better look as the camp exploded into action. Soldiers came from every direction, swarming towards the Commander's tent. It was then, at the exact moment when a soldier made to enter the tent that the explosion of light and noise happened.

From within the folds of Commander George Washington's tent flooded a brilliant golden light. It swept across the ground, bringing with it a torrent of high-pitched ringing. Haytham would come to recognize that sound as the sound of absolute power doing what it did best: corrupting absolutely. Though, at the time he hardly thought of it as that. At the time, the blast had thrown him backwards, sending him head over heels down the incline, hands clutching at his ears, which now echoed with the dull ringing of power.

After that, which had been the origin of his migraine, Haytham had quickly taken his leave and returned to the Restless Ghost. He was still no closer to making sense of what he'd seen - what he'd felt. When the golden light had spread across the ground, it had engulfed his nerve endings, sending them into a twitching, tingling mess. And he was still hearing that damned ringing. It was like a mosquito on a warm night, consistent and annoying as hell. Only, Haytham could kill mosquitos, he couldn't kill something that wasn't alive and was inside his head.

He massaged his temples as he rose from his chair and took a step towards his cot, thinking that some rest would help. His body teetered on shaking legs and he grabbed the back of the chair, the ground spinning in and out of focus. Haytham stumbled, cursing under his breath. What the bloody hell is happening? he wondered, leaning the side of his pounding head into his palm. He blinked away the vertigo and took another step towards his cot, slowly loosening his grip on the chair. He wasn't aware that his legs had buckled until the ground rushed up to meet his face as he fell into it. He heard the distant snap of his nose breaking, and a muffled, disembodied cry as the darkness rushed in and Haytham Kenway passed out right there, in the middle of his room at the Restless Ghost. Little did he know, but out in Valley Forge, Washington and many of his men had also slumped to the ground; completely unconscious and unresponsive.

"Haytham?"

When he came to his senses, there were three things he noticed. He was not lying on the wooden floor of the Restless Ghost, but on the soft grass of the forest. It was not the middle of winter, as he could hear birds chirping around him. And, someone was saying his name. A someone he never thought he'd hear speak again. A hand touched his face, his name once again spoken, and his eyes slid open. He lay on his back, and above him Ziio's face came into focus.

He tried to form words, but instead he could only stare up at her, taking in her face. Her skin was the same dark complexion it had been last time he saw her. Her eyes were gentle, glowing a soft brown. Twin braids fell against her shoulders, tied off with one white ribbon and one clay red. Two feathers stuck up from the back of her head, casting a faint shadow across the top of her head. He blinked, and she was still there, regarding him with a faint smile.

"It's nearly noon," she said, compassion in her tone, leaning back as he sat up, propping himself up on one elbow. "You need to get up."

Haytham reached out and touched her face, she was there. She was really there. She leaned into his touch, favoring him with a smile, though confusion sparked in her eyes. "Ziio," he started, but didn't know how to finish the thought. The words, however, that came out were: "You're here."

Her forehead creased further, her hand taking his. "Of course I am," she replied. "We came here together. Are you alright?" She tilted her head to the side, searching his face. When he nodded, she pulled him to his feet and he pulled her into him, holding her against his chest. She leaned into the embrace, pressing her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder. He could tell she was surprised, but apparently had no words.

She stepped back from the embrace, looking up at him. "Are you sure you're alright?" she asked.

"I am quite alright," he replied with a faint smile, still not exactly knowing how to react to this. He suspected that on the way down, he'd not only broken his nose but smashed his head quite hard. He was quite sure that he was dreaming.

"Good, we need to go, I heard noise over the hill." Ziio turned and made her way up the hill at a jog, leaving Haytham standing by the water alone. It was only than that he realized he wasn't wearing his normal attire.

"What the-" He started, staring down at the long cape he wore. It was a pale beige, the color of dead grass. Up closer to his shoulders it was the same clay red as the ribbon Ziio tied her hair with, with feathers tied to the edges of it. At his shoulders, was shoulder pads of white feathers and as he reached to touch them he realized that even the hidden blade gauntlets were different. They were a soft brown, etched with gold designs, matching the ones that criss-crossed on the red area of his unfamiliar cape.

As he moved his head, something shifted on his head and his hand jumped to touch it. The tips of his fingers touched something cool and he jerked his hand away, turning so he could see his reflection in the water. He wore a large eagle-head headdress. Three large feathers stood up from the back of it and it's beak curved over his forehead, giving him a dangerous look. He looked down at the rest of him. He wore robes similar to Ziio's only they were a darker brown and he wore a tunic and trousers, whereas she had only her dress. He touched his neck, red clay beads encircling it.

Haytham blinked, shaking his head slowly. Ziio's call of his name echoed back to him and he turned, walking towards it. He had never been this confused before. He had to be dreaming, and despite himself he turned to an old superstition. He dug his fingernail into his skin and winced slightly. It had hurt. Did that mean he wasn't dreaming? That this was somehow real? How did any of this make-

He stopped in his tracks. At his finger was a simple band, carved out of bone. He blinked, calling up the memory of Ziio's hand. Her finger had held a similar one. Did that mean that here - wherever here was - the two of them had stayed together? That they had started a life together and that he was one of her people - one of the Kanien'kéha?

He took a deep breath, and followed Ziio up the incline. When he'd joined her, she started walking again. "What's happened?" he asked, the screams in the distance reaching his ears. At first Ziio didn't answer, picking her way through the forest. Although surprised, Haytham found that he was able to easily follow in her footsteps.

"The Mad King has been sending out his men to anyone who opposes him," replied Ziio, glancing back at Haytham. "You know this." She didn't give him time to respond before taking off again. Not knowing how to reply - as he hadn't known that this "Mad King" was sending out men, hell, he didn't even know who the Mad King was - he went after her.

It wasn't long before they stumbled upon a group of men in blue coats attacking villagers. Ziio proclaimed that they had to help and brandished a knife. She ran down with a battlecry and Haytham swore under his breath, pulling his pistols and going after her. The Bluecoat patrol was easily dispatched by the two, their movements fluid. As Haytham finished off the last, Ziio had gone and helped one of the village women to her feet.

Haytham made his way over, catching the words: "You must be careful, Kaniehtí:io, you are with child and King George is always on the look out for you, or," she nodded to Haytham as he approached, "your husband."

"-with child…" The words shook Haytham to his core and he nearly stumbled. Ziio looked to him, taking his hand. She nodded to the woman. "Do not worry for me." And she smiled and turned to keep walking back towards the village, her hand still in Haytham's.

"You're with child," he said, when the reached the top of the hill. "And that woman called Washington, King. He is but a Commander."

Ziio turned to look at him. "Haytham, have you injured your head? King George Washington has been in control for many months. Yes, I am with child. You knew that as well. Is there something wrong, ne akweks? You do not seem yourself this day." She reached up and touched his face, and he put his hand on hers.

"You must be careful," he said, dodging the question. How was he even supposed to explain that the last memory he had of her was her telling him to leave and she'd kill him if she ever saw him again? How was he supposed to explain that their son had told him that she was dead, burned alive in a fire Washington started?

Her lips twitched and she kissed his cheek. "We must go," was all she said before turning and continuing her trek back towards the Kanien'kéha village. After a moment he followed. He hated that she wouldn't admit that she needed to be careful. She was carrying their child. Connor. He took a deep breath, he hadn't even known about Connor before. Now he had a chance to make things right and he'd be damned if he messed it up again. He caught up to her as she untethered a horse. He mounted and she lead him towards Concord.