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❝ Don’t be a fool, sweetheart. If anyone’s going to kill you… let it be me. ❞

PAN'S LABYRINTH SENTENCE MEME

His lower lip curling at those words, William clenched his hook and watched the Templar before him. Her smirk, brightening the poison green of her eyes, he looked past—focusing instead on the poniard dangling from her right hand. Some of the blood dripping from its blade inched down his face. Most of it was on the ground, still spilling in a slow stream from the fallen mercenary at his feet.

He had been fighting the man scant seconds ago, catching the knife slicing towards his own throat on the twin barbed curves of his hook. The mercenary had pushed forward. Pinned him and his other arm to the wall in a single lunge.Then from the corner of his vision, William saw Gillian approaching. Not wanting to remain trapped for the Templar to dispose of at her leisure, he had moved to kick the man, or shove him away—

Gillian had sank her poniard into the mercenary's neck and jerked it hard to the side. A gurgle. Blood splattered like warm rain across William's face, and the man slumped forward, his grip on the Assassin weakening. He toppled with a single push and did not rise again.

Why Gillian chose to kill her own subordinate did not matter for William then, and the ‘answer’ he received by asking now had not changed it. She was toying with him—and that disgusted him far more than stumbling into this situation in the first place.

“Which is what you will attempt to do next, I suppose?” he asked. William lowered his hook, keeping it close and high enough for him to strike out again. To sink into the Templar's flesh with one move upon hers. “En garde then, mademoiselle. Thanks to you, we have the dancing floor to ourselves.”

#( lettres. )#ladygillian #[ this is the most gillian one out of the bunch imo. ]

❝ Don’t look at him, look at me. Above me there is no one. ❞

PAN'S LABYRINTH SENTENCE MEME

William looked at Gillian—then away. You should be watching him as well, he thought but did not say, unwilling to draw what would surely be unwelcome scrutiny to the small figure slipping through the surge of people around them. Even at a distance, dressed drably with a cap pulled low over his tousled blond hair, Fillan was unmistakable to someone who had studied his movements in depth. This close to the wharves of Boston’s harbor, the crowds roiled like the sea nearby, conversation and arguments breaking above the stalls of the fishmongers and against the sides of unloading ships. It was a perfect place for any common cutpurse to make off with their first score. And a perfect place for any Assassin novice to hone the skills needed for their first kill.

William had set the boy a simple task today: approach within a hand’s-breadth each of the guards overseeing this part of the city without attracting their attention. No stealing, no leaving of marks. Only getting close enough to touch—and therefore to strike.

Tedious it might be to track Fillan’s every step and shift, it was William’s duty as his mentor. And that alone certainly put him above his sister.

#( lettres. )#ladygillian

❝ You’ll meet her; she’s very pretty, even though she’s sometimes sad for many days at a time. You’ll see, when she smiles… you’ll love her. ❞

PAN'S LABYRINTH SENTENCE MEME

Instead of rolling his eyes, William only put his cup down on the coffeehouse's table with a decided carelessness. “I have no doubt that she is as lovely as you say, mademoiselle,” he replied in a tone slightly less bland than what passed for coffee in this place. “But is it not the duty of your procuress to extol the”—questionable—“virtues of her ladies rather than yours? And to do it within the walls of her establishment instead of in public where anyone may hear? It is not very becoming of you to do it in her stead.”

Not to mention suspicious, to hear you praising another woman in such flattering terms instead of yourself.

#( lettres. )#ladygillian

❝ When that man finds out about us, he’ll kill us all. Have you thought about that? ❞

PAN'S LABYRINTH SENTENCE MEME

Like the shifting of the blankets, her voice was soft but insistent next to his skin. William half-turned his head to see Gillian up on her elbows and resting her chin on his shoulder. With his bedroom’s shutters latched tight against curious eyes and the impending dawn, there wasn’t enough light to see her face. He found some small relief in the fact that she could not easily see his either. Or the way his brow creased with worry.

“I have. Although it was not in such a fatalistic way,” he said. Lied. In his thoughts, he saw the letter which had arrived at the homestead mere days ago. A single long strip tied tight and furled around a pigeon’s leg. Even though William had long since considered the possibility of the restoration of the Templar order here, that still hadn’t been enough to brace himself against those words he read. A few spare lines, naming that infamous turncoat Shay Cormac—and his intent to return and take up the mantle of the leader of the American Rite.

Even the shattering of a temporary peace resounded loud to those who wished it could have lasted longer. Did that make him hopeful? Or foolish?

“… If your new grandmaster discovers this—and he wishes to have our heads—then he can certainly try. But he will not find it so easy to take mine.” William turned over and reached up, tucking a stray lock of Gillian’s hair behind her ear. He lingered there, brushing his fingertips down her cheek. “Nor yours.”

#( lettres. )#ladygillian #{ rapport; } je t'adore.#[ i hope you're happy because i'm not now. ]