I do not own Assassin's Creed or any of the characters from Assassin's Creed 3. This story was started before the game was released so my impressions of Connor and Achilles were based on the tiny bits of the game that were online before the game came out. Their personalities most likely differ from how they actually were in the game. I fixed any references to the homestead, so that it more closely resembled the game but nothing else was altered. There are no spoilers in this, in case readers have not yet finished the game. This contains LEMON, other sexual references, and a tiny bit of violence.

When someone else kills an assassin's target…

A Creed To Remember

Her lungs burned as she ran; the shadows of moon light playing tricks on her eyes. She caught herself again as a dip in the rocky ground almost sent her tumbling. She dare not turn around to see how close her pursers were, her fear was too great and she did not want to see the inevitable as it raced toward her. The night was heavy with her labored breathing and the rapid scrambling of her boots on the gravel. She had been thankful for the boy's clothing she had stolen off a close-line that morning and the boots she had nicked from some dozing children by a nearby pond. She would have been caught much sooner had she still been wearing her dress and heeled shoes. Her pace was still handicapped, for she was not accustomed to wearing pants and boy's boots. The would-be captors kept a steady pace behind her; luckily they also did not have horses. What they lacked in mounts, they did not lack in numbers and rifles. She cursed and thanked the moon in the same thought, for it illuminated her as she danced between the specters of trees it tossed on the ground in front of her, yet it allowed her some sense of direction as she escaped further into the open chasm of unknown terrain that spread out before her. She almost wanted to risk dashing into the void of trees, but she would surely injure herself on uneven ground or easily give herself away by the ruckus that her panicked running would cause.

A spray of bark pelted her face as a bullet barely missed her head. She quickly rolled herself to the ground and as her feet touched the dirt again her fear-induced legs propelled her forward at a hyperventilating pace. They were becoming more confident that they would slow their chase to try and shoot her down. How could someone they thought was a child possibly outrun the mighty soldiers of the British army? She smiled inwardly, thankful again that her height had given yet another false impression and allowed her to easily blend with street urchins. She probably should not have stabbed the soldier who had tried to take her to his bed…aahh hindsight you are truly a bane; as was the shock of pain that erupted through her shoulder, slamming her into the ground. She slid; tearing her pants at the knees, the skin off her palms, and the shirt from her wounded shoulder. Labored breathing became louder as did accented jeers and a violent kick to her ribs. She cried out as the breath was forced from her chest driving her into a whimpering ball. She felt the butt end of a rifle ease itself into her wounded shoulder and grind deep into the injury. She bit her lip to stop from shrieking in torment again; these bastards did not deserve the pleasure of seeing her suffer.

"So lit'le one, we finally caught ya." One of them taunted as the others circled around her like hungry wolves. The agony of her ribs and shoulder seemed to be deafening, the soldiers' heavy breathing and sinister laughter sounded so far away. Oh please, don't let me pass out, she pleaded with her mind, only the gods know what acts they would commit against her unconscious form. A whispered moan parted her lips as one of the soldiers kicked her onto her back. The scent of sweat and dust invaded her nostrils…she felt tears spring from her eyes…this can't be happening, please no…

A spray of something drenched her face as a gurgled; chocking sound promptly brought the other soldiers to silence. Dust and pebbles showered her as the soldiers seemed to scatter and their footfalls slowly receded into the distance. She warily turned her head to the side, there was a soldier lying on the ground next to her unmoving, what happened? She desperately wanted to move from him but it seemed her body was made from pain; each inhale of breath was so difficult and agonizing. She cried out as her shoulder quickly reminded her that she had most likely been shot.

"Easy…" A male voice whispered soothingly into her ear. She was so startled that she jerked away from the voice, producing a cry of pain to rip out of her throat. She felt a hand gently press into her side, she gasped, struggling to keep the pain under control.

"Stop…please…" She wheezed, trying in vain to push his hand away.

"I need to check your injuries before I can move you. Try to relax." He stated gently, probing the burning pain that was her shoulder. She started to sob, causing the throbbing in her ribs to flare. She wailed as she felt the man examine her side again.

"Easy, I'm going to help you…" He began to explain as she heard the softest whisper of this clothing as he shifted his position on the ground next to her. She felt her head leave the ground and then her legs and back. He was carrying her! No, no! I cannot have escaped one torment only to suffer another at the hands of a different man, she screamed in her injury-drunk mind. She struggled in his arms, trying to ignore the eruption of pain as it raced through her body.

"Stop." He hissed.

"Who…" A stab of agony cut short her question. Her head began to feel light and the darkness of the night seemed to start swirling around her.

"My name is Connor…" His voice dissipated into the haze of unconsciousness that swallowed her.

. . .

"…lucky." A single word pierced the fog of her mind. The sound of boots on floor boards disturbed the mist further, evaporating it until a light began to flood behind her closed eyelids. Voices began to drift in gentle waves to her ears until she could almost understand complete sentences.

"Like I said….for a few days at least…come back later…" The click of a latch as a door opened and then closed and the boots on the floor again. This time the steps sounded closer, there was another set of footsteps? Someone else not walking in boots? Slippers maybe? The questions in her mind were like a rope slowly pulling her to surface of complete wakefulness and she peeled her eyelids open, blinking against the day that was spilling into wherever she was lying. Lying…a bed…I'm in a bed, she confirmed as she began to move her legs against thick blankets that smelled of fresh air. Her body felt so heavy and tired, each breath felt tight and a sharp sting lingered at each exhale.

"Alice?" A male voice questioned nearby. My name…how does that voice know my name…who? She turned her head to sound of the voice and saw an elderly man sitting in a chair next to the bed she was lying in. He nodded and a faint smile briefly lit up his face before a solemn mask replaced it. A soft shuffle drew her attention to the doorway, which was occupied by a large man dressed in white.

"How are you feeling?" The man in the doorway asked. It was so odd, his voice was so gentle but he looked like a wolf sizing up its prey. Her throat felt like it was coated in saw dust. She swallowed hard and opened to mouth to speak but only a rasp escaped her chapped lips. The elderly man produced a glass of water. He carefully held it to her mouth as she swallowed the contents.

"Slowly, slowly…" He instructed, placing the empty glass on a table nearby. The two men seemed to be studying her. The younger man in particular, it was as though he was waiting for something to happen. She noticed his tense stance as he moved to the side of the elderly man.

"Better…" Alice coughed out, wincing at the stab in her side.

"You've been here two days. Dr. White claims how lucky you are that you didn't break any ribs and that the bullet only grazed your shoulder. I…heard how you came to be in this situation…quite brazen of you Alice." The elderly man stated, he actually sounded…impressed.

"I killed a man…" I retorted weakly.

"And?" The younger man demanded, angrily. Did he want to start a war of words with her? Did he know the man? He was clearly not impressed with her actions; it was as though it was commonplace for death to happen in violent ways…she suddenly remembered the night he had come to her aid, what happened to the soldiers who had been accosting her…?

"Connor…" The elderly man glanced in Connor's direction. Connor nodded and walked over to the window, he continued to sneak glances in her direction.

"The man you killed, he was important. While we do not mourn his loss, the kill belonged to someone else." The elderly man explained.

"I'm…sorry….? Someone… else? A man's death is not something another can own…" Alice stated, anger giving her some strength and weight to her words.

"That is true…to an extent. Connor was tasked with his death and he is a bit, upset you stole his prey." She heard the faintest of humor in the older man's words.

"I had to clean up the mess you left behind." Connor stated from the window.

"You were still able to kill men, were you not? Why does it matter?" She questioned, trying to sit up in the bed to better face her accuser. The action drove a pulse of pain up her side and she gasped. Connor was at her side in an instant, placing his arm under her shoulders and easing her back down into the bed.

"Relax…you need to rest…" She closed her eyes against the pain as Connor helped her lie down. He was confusing; seemingly angry at one moment and tender the next. It almost felt…good as he briefly held her. Feeling spent, she drifted into sleep, the last sound being the older man's words and Connor's response,

"She would do well if she would side with us…"

"Perhaps...I could train her."

. . .

"You're healing well Alice. How do you feel?" Dr. White was asking her two days later, after examining her injuries.

"Much better, just sore." She answered feeling slightly embarrassed that Connor insisted on being in the room with her when the doctor had come by that afternoon. He had claimed that he needed to be there, in case he had to change her bandages, he wanted to know how. He said he had been in the room the other times the physician had come by to check on her, why did it matter now. He was completely oblivious as to why she was embarrassed. She stared at her lap as she felt the doctor's weight leave the bed and his boots tap a thick rhythm on the bare floor. She looked up only after there was a silence in the room. The doctor and Connor were exchanging some words. Connor met her gaze, before nodding to the doctor and following him out of the room. The two men exchanged words by the front door and parted ways. She could hear the soft padding of Connor's shoes on the floor as he walked back to the room she was resting in. She imagined a large guard dog coming to check on its charge. She was still sitting up in bed when he entered the room.

"Alice…" He said, trying to get her attention. She looked up at him and then looked away. She heard him move to the bed and felt him sit on it near her.

"Are you not well? Should I call the Dr. White back here?" He asked, reaching toward her. She shied away from his outstretched hand. He slowly placed his hand on the bed by his thigh.

"Alice…" He began before she interrupted him.

"You being in here with the doctor makes me uncomfortable." She blurted.

"Why? Because I am a native?" She quickly looked up at him, why the hell would that matter?

"No, because you are a man." She answered, her discomfort causing her voice to sharpen.

"Many of women from my culture do not wear shirts in the warm months. The doctor only looked at your shoulder and your side. I saw nothing to tarnish your virtue." He stated, the last sentence layered with venom. Did he think that because she was white that he could speak to her like she was dirt?

"I am not one of those women." She replied, meeting his eyes and glaring at him in disgust.

"I know, they would not be so disrespectful to me." He stood up from the bed and stalked out of the room.

. . .

"How do you know who I am?" Alice asked Connor the next morning. She was trying to smooth over the argument they had both participated in the previous day. He had saved her life and was allowing her to stay in what she guessed was his home. He had brought her something to eat and was on his way out of the room when her question caused him to stop.

"You killed my target, I made it a point to find out who you were." He replied turning to face her. His movement reminded her of a wolf turning to examine a prey not worthy of hunting.

"How was he your target? You kill people for a living?" She questioned, clearly not expecting his answer.

"Yes." She felt a chill creep down her spine with how easily he answered her question. She didn't realize that her silence would affect him.

"You have nothing to fear from me. I would never harm you." He stated in a softer tone as he walked back to the bed.

"How do I know you speak the truth?" She whispered, her shock stealing her voice.

"I took a vow to never kill an innocent."

"I killed a man, I am no innocent." She realized at that moment that she had no remorse for the death she had caused. The man would have taken her and once he was done, he would have tossed her aside like a piece of trash and done the same to another. This, she knew in her heart.

"The man you murdered, his crimes were worth the price he paid. That is why I was to assassinate him." He answered cryptically.

"You will not cause me harm because I took his life and not you?" She asked.

"I am…frustrated you took my assignment from me, but the man is dead all the same. I only wish you had done it more cleanly so I would not have had to kill the eight men who wanted to torture you. Next time you will do better." He explained sitting on the bed, careful not to disturb the meal he had recently placed in front of her.

"Next…time?" She suddenly felt as though chains had been thrown around her wrists and ankles.

"Yes," Connor nodded, "I will train you. You think you can go back to pretending to be a street urchin when all the colonies are looking for you? You took the life of a high ranking British soldier. You are to be killed on site if you are found." He explained as though it were an everyday occurrence that girls killed officers.

"You are risking yourself to protect me?" She asked softly, not sure if it was a risk or just an easy way to force her to become a trained killer.

"You and I, we are on the same side. You killed that man because of the injustice he left in his wake and did not allow yourself to become another victim." His passionate explanation made sense to her. She felt him intently watching her and then his hand rested on her arm.

"When you are feeling well enough, we can begin your training." When she nodded in response, he quietly left the room. She didn't realize that she had been staring at the food in front of her during most of the conversation. She felt so confused, this man was going to train her to kill people? Such things existed? She didn't regret murdering that bastard limey, and she would surely have met the same fate had Connor not intervened. She owed him her life. It seemed only fitting she take the lives of others in order to repay him…

. . .

It still ached, but her injuries now had a dull blade to stab her with and were bearable, she convinced herself as she walked a forest path early with Connor. She watched him as he constantly scanned the tree line, always on alert. The doctor had insisted that she get fresh air, having been cooped up inside the home with Connor and the elderly man (Achilles was his name, she had been told, but nothing else) for over a week now. Connor had acquired some clothing for her, from a woman he called Ellen who lived in the area of the house he shared with Achilles, which consisted of a well worn dress and apron. Having no other shoes, she wore the boots she had stolen the day Connor had helped her, which served her well on the rocky path they strode.

She was having trouble keeping up to his long stride, he was significantly taller than her; she appeared a mere child next to his height. Each breath she took in the cool morning air was beginning to feed a fire in her side. She didn't want to complain to him, but she began to feel ill.

"Connor, can you slow down please." She huffed behind him. He didn't appear to hear her, so intent he was on their surroundings.

"Connor…" She pleaded as she began to feel warm and trees around her started to waver. He heard her this time and quickly turned around. He knelt in front of her and gently took hold of her uninjured shoulder.

"Are you unwell Alice?" He asked, scrutinizing her face.

"I just need a…rest…" The wave of dizziness nearly knocked her off her feet. She gripped the sleeve of his jacket like a vise as she watched the trees and sky tip backwards.

"Alice?! Alice?!" She heard Connor shouting her name as though she were under water, so muffled and garbled he sounded. She was fighting desperately to stay awake as Connor seemed to move above her, a white blurry mess he was. She slowly noticed that he began to solidify and her breathing became easier. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and realized she was lying on the ground. She lifted her hand to her head and muffled a groan. She trailed her hand down her face to her throat and felt the collar of her dress undone. She gripped it, feeling how far down the front of her dress was opened.

"You were having trouble breathing, I needed to loosen your dress." Connor stated as he loomed over her, an anxious look touching his face very briefly. She nodded weakly as she tried to control her breathing still. He suddenly grabbed her hand and placed it firmly to his chest.

"Can you feel my breathing?" He questioned, demanding her full attention. She felt a warmth spread through her body at the closeness of him. She could feel the full rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his life under her palm. One of the buttons of his shirt was cool against her hand; she could feel the strong pumping amplified by the fastening.

"Copy me…relax…" He studied her, making sure she was following his instructions. She did as she was told, but found it difficult. She had never been in such a comprising position that caused her to feel so vulnerable. A trained murderer had her pinned to the ground. She could feel the crushing hammering in her chest increase which did nothing to help her try to relax her breathing. Her chest began to feel tight and she tried to pull her hand away from his grip.

"I…am fine." She was finally able to gasp.

"You do not sound fine." He replied not allowing her to release her hand from his grip. She felt the gentle rumbling of his voice through his chest.

"Please, Connor, release me." She struggled to force her voice from sounding weak and pathetic. His nearness was a familiarity that made her extremely uncomfortable. He seemed to sense how awkward she felt, he removed her hand and helped her to her feet. He took a firm hold of her arm as she steadied herself. He glared at her for several moments , to make sure she could stand on her own two feet and then made a causal visual scan of the area.

"We should go back, the fresh air apparently does not agree with you." He stated in a condescending tone.

"Let me see, how about you get kicked in the ribs by someone twice your size and weight and shot at and we shall see how agreeable you are." Alice spat at him. She spun around on the heel of her boot and began to make her way back toward the house. Her head still felt slightly buoyant on her neck, but she did not want to show any further weakness in front of him. She had the desire to prove herself to him now; that she was strong despite recent occurrences. She stopped when she heard him chuckle behind her. She began to turn toward him and impale him with more words, when he suddenly appeared next to her. He peered down at her from beneath his hood; she thought she saw a faint smile on his face. He extended his arm in front of her and gestured for her to walk ahead of him,

"By all means, please, let us go back." She could hear the laughter in his voice. She was too sore and tired to further argue with him so she let him have his fun at her behalf.

. . .

When the two finally arrived back at the house, the shadows had spread their billowing sheets over the homestead and allowed a chilling wind to rattle the skeletal tree branches. Faint warmth glowed from the downstairs windows of the home which was a welcoming site. Alice hurried her steps, the frost bitten ground crunching loudly under her boots. Connor reached the door before her, beating her with his longer gait. She noticed some hesitation when his hand touched the door before opening it and gesturing her inside. His cautious nature gave her pause and she felt her body go on alert. He seemed to notice,

"There is nothing out of the ordinary, it is my nature to be guarded." He answered her tense stance. She relaxed at his words and entered the home. The elderly man was setting the table, which was already covered with several steaming plates of meat and bread. A water pitcher sat as the center piece. He glanced up at Connor and gave him a brief nod as he continued to place silverware by the three plates . He finally spoke as he settled himself in one of the chairs,

"How was your walk?" Connor sat across from him and began placing some meat on his plate.

"It yielded nothing of importance, besides that she has not fully recovered yet." Connor replied, ignoring that fact that Alice stood not five feet from him. She suddenly felt very naked, being spoken of as though she were not there. She began to study her apron and boots in the dim light of the room, feeling awkward and somewhat unwelcome. Connor glimpsed in her direction before focusing on his food. He risked another look as though sensing her discomfort.

"Alice? Sit, you need to eat." Achilles' fatherly tone was a comfort to her unease. She quickly sat and helped herself to the food on the table. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth and the scrapping of silverware on plates the only sounds. Conner finished first and stealthy exited the room. The gentle creaking of floor boards was the only indication that he had gone upstairs.

"He does not like me…" Alice whispered into her lap.

"Does he need to like you?" Achilles answered, finishing the food in front of him.

"I suppose not, but…" Alice began, unsure what to say next.

"It may not be clear, but Connor is concerned about you. He has tasked himself with training you…you are his responsibility, something he does not take lightly." He answered, the soft rubbing of his chair on the floor indicating he had moved to face her. She looked up from the thread on her apron she had been twisting in her fingers to meet the old man's gaze. His face spoke the truth, but how could he know?

"How are you privy to such information?" She questioned, still unsure of his relationship with Connor.

"I trained him. I humor myself by thinking I know Connor well since he has been with me for some time, but time does not always yield a man's true intent or the inner workings of his soul. Connor is a good man, he does what he believes is right and he is usually correct. I see his concern for you, this he does not hide well. He worries about your injuries more than you realize." Achilles stated, smiling at the last words he spoke. Embarrassment touching her face, Alice looked away from Achilles. A stillness crept into the room and did not leave for several moments until Connor's presence drove it away.

"Alice…" She heard it now, the hint of worry in his voice. She turned to face him; he had removed his weaponry and occupied the doorway clad only in his white and blue clothing. Achilles spoke,

"She is finished, I will clean up while you get her settled." At his words Alice stood from the table and walked past Connor into the dark hallway. She felt the gentle pressure of his hand on her back, guiding her to the stairway leading to the second floor. A flare of light appeared behind her as Connor lit a small lamp and indicated that she continue to walk ahead of him to the room she had been occupying. She was unsure what to do with the information Achilles had given her and decided for the time being, to ignore it. Connor placed the lamp on the table near the bed and began to move toward Alice to help her into the bed. She took a step away from him.

"I am fine." She stated rejecting his assistance.

"You will let me help you. Over exerting yourself will not heal your wounds any faster." He deftly maneuvered toward her and lifted her into his arms. He sat her on the bed and pulled off her boots before gently placing his hand on her back and easing her down into the bed. He lingered over her, studying her face to see if any pain marred her expression. She winced slightly as she adjusted her position to pull the blankets over her legs. He grabbed her hand, stopping her movements and firmly placed his other hand on her side. She winced further as she felt him apply firm pressure to her ribs. He quickly removed his hand and spoke,

"Tomorrow you will stay in bed and rest for the day." He slid the lamp off the table and exited the room, leaving her in complete darkness. She lay there pondering his actions. No man had ever shown concern for her before and she was very confused over why these two had readily taken her in and helped her. She had no memory of her father, and very little of her mother. She remembered a ship and the smell of death. Strangers had taken her in, but did not raise her. The street raised her and then it beat her and raped her. She had learned to hide and to steal and her best lesson had been learning to run away. She was not skilled at defending herself with any weapon, especially not while wielding words. She felt vulnerable, unsure of herself, and confused as to whether to trust Connor and Achilles,

"I'll give it a try…I have nothing to lose…" She whispered to herself as she fell asleep.

. . .

The next several months, Alice spent in training with Connor. He had begun taking her with him on his assignments, so that she would understand exactly what he did. It had frightened her at first, but she quickly learned that certain lives needed to end in order to protect the greater good. She became proficient in the use of several weapons, her personal favorite being a staff almost bigger than her. She had simply picked up a large tree branch one day and was able to wield it with an "unnatural skill" Connor had told her. He had taught her to hunt, a lesson she was not particularly keen on learning.

"I'd rather kill people than animals." She remarked to him as she gutted a buck one afternoon. He had laughed to himself at her remark, but insisted that it was something she would die without knowing.

One lesson she found slightly hard to learn was the one that involved an introduction to his people. It had begun after a grueling several days in the wilderness, when the air began to feel crisp at the edges of morning and dusk. Their target was more skilled at avoiding the two of them then they had anticipated. They had succeeded in funneling their prey north, toward land Connor said he knew well.

"My people…they have lived in this area…" He explained after several hours of silence between the two of them. It was the first time he had ever mentioned his heritage to her and she was taken aback by the comment.

"I do not know my people…" She admitted, keeping the steady pace he had begun at the start of the conversation. She heard his footfalls suddenly slow and she instantly felt her body tense and become alert. She looked to him for an explanation of his change in pace and she found him staring at her.

"I'm sorry…perhaps it is best that you do not. Mine are disappearing, yours might have suffered the same fate. You have been spared the pain…" She stopped walking at that point and looked at him…really looked at him. He seemed tired, like a great weight that he had gotten accustomed to, was suddenly put on display in front of him, reminding him of things he did not want to remember. She reached out to him and gently touched him arm, breaking the distant gaze on his face.

"We should move on…" He stated, his voice hard and determined. She nodded and followed him further into the woods. They did not speak again until a breaking branch caused them pause. He held his hand out, motioning her to stop and to climb the nearest tree. She quickly scrambled several branches from the ground and noticed several men walking toward their direction…they were all natives. In panic, she looked to Connor for guidance, he nodded to her in assurance and greeted the men in a strange tongue she had never heard him speak before. They began to converse for several moments, when she heard Connor say her name several times. He then motioned for her to come down from the tree. When she did not move, he spoke a bit harshly to her,

"Alice, they will not harm you, I know these men. " She obeyed him and soon found herself dwarfed by not just Connor but the four men in front of him.

"They have seen the man we seek. We will camp with them tonight and continue in the morning."

"We might lose the trail…" She began before he interrupted her.

"Our prey moves unknowingly into a canyon, we will ambush him there. For now, for tonight we can stay with some of my people. Do not speak or do anything to draw attention to yourself, you are a stranger, they might not trust you. I am with you so they will not harm you." He explained to her before motioning to the four men to show him the way to the camp.

The camp was small, consisting of several large cabin-like buildings that were longer than houses Alice was accustomed to seeing. Many of the people were busy with various tasks and paid little attention to the group as they entered the area. A few turned to stare in curiosity, which caused a ripple of people to watch them as they walked to one of the homes. A few dogs scampered about and she smiled to herself when Connor stopped to pet one of them. He then entered with one of the men and motioned her to follow. The other three spoke a few words and parted ways. A woman was inside, caring for a small child. She smiled and greeted the man and nodded curtly to Connor, she looked past them to stare at Alice.

"Hel-lo." She spoke in broken English. Alice smiled in response and bowed slightly. The woman returned her smile and then spoke to Connor. He turned to Alice,

"We will stay here tonight. I am going hunting with some of the others. Stay here and help if you are asked." He took a gentle hold of her arm and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Yes, I understand." She replied and watched as Connor left with the man they had entered with. She turned to the woman, who had stood up; the child clinging to her calf and peering at her in confusion.

"Ratonhnhake:ton….uh Con-nor….care…" The woman spoke softly pointing at Alice. The woman saw the confusion on Alice's face and tried to explain herself by using hand gestures and pointing to her chest. Alice suddenly understood and quickly shook her head. No, the woman had the wrong idea, he is my mentor and nothing else, she wanted to say but knew the woman would not understand. The woman laughed and reached for Alice's arm. She guided her to the back of the dwelling and began to dig through some piles of skins and clothing. She pulled out some garments and handed them to Alice. Alice tried to push them away but the woman insisted and began to tug at her clothes to help her change. She didn't want offend the woman so she allowed her to dress in the clothing she had picked out for her. She then took Alice back to where the child was now resting, sat her down and began comb her hair with her hands. She deftly braided her locks into one long plait and smiled, pleased at herself.

Several hours later, Connor returned to the dwelling smelling of the woods and the hint of snow lingered around him. He was speaking to someone as he took off his bow and quiver and not see Alice right away. When he did, he instantly stopped and stared. He quickly composed himself and spoke,

"Alice, what are you wearing…?"

"I'm sorry, she insisted and I didn't want to offend." She replied not able to look him in the face. When he didn't answer, she looked toward him and met his eyes. He was still staring at her.

"You…look nice." He replied. He turned and left the home. She stood there stupidly for a few moments until she felt the woman take hold of her hand and lead her outside. She felt like she was in a parade that had only her in it the way that many of the other people stared at her. She knew they were laughing, she could feel the amusement in their eyes. Disgusted, she yanked her hand away from the woman and weaved her way through the crowd of people back to the building that her assassin robes were in, probably balled up and wrinkled, she thought to herself. Glaring at the ground in front of her, she didn't see the person standing in front of her until she slammed into them, nearly knocking herself off her feet.

"Oh! I'm so sor-" She stopped herself when she saw who it was, Connor.

"I had a feeling you would come back here to change, I could tell you didn't feel comfortable in that. I'm sorry, she was trying to make you feel more welcome." Connor explained, leading her inside the building, which was now empty. Alice semi-stumbled in the dimly lit home, trying to remember where her clothes had been placed. She felt Connor take her hand,

"Stop, stand still I'll find your things." She heard him moving quietly through the very back of the structure and then silence. She saw a foggy form moving toward her,

"Did you find my things?" She asked him, trying to see if he was holding anything.

"Yes, take my arm your clothes are back here. You can change without anyone seeing you." He led her to where the home was the darkest and felt something pressed into her hands, her clothes.

"Your weapons are here against the wall." He stated, she heard him moving away from her.

"Connor, I can't see…can you…help me?" She was hesitant to ask, but she didn't even know how to undress herself since the woman had hastily donned the outfit on her. She received his silence as an original answer and then he spoke,

"Turn around…" She felt his hand on her shoulder as he steered her around so that her back was facing him. She could feel him reaching for the hem of the top she was wearing, timidly. He slowly rubbed the fabric between his fingers as though clinging to some fond memory. His touch lingered there for a few moments and she heard his sigh heavily before quickly removing the top she had been wearing. She quickly brought her arms to her chest to cover herself even though the dimness in the building did a sufficient job of hiding her. She felt chillness in the air cling to her bare back and she quickly bent over to grab the clothing that she had dropped at her feet. A hint of warmth caused her to tense in mid-motion. She stood and felt Connor's hand press into the small of her back. Her breath caught in her throat at the gentle sensation. She paused, unsure what to do. The shock of the moment refused to allow her to move and left her even more frozen in place when she felt his other hand trace her shoulder down to her elbow. He was touching her…and it surprised her more than anything else. She had never given him reason to make any advance on her…had she? Their relationship had always felt like student and teacher nothing more. But here, in the shadows his advances did not upset her or make her feel uncomfortable…it felt…right. She had never been with a man that hadn't tried to take her by force and she felt a sense of nervousness grip her hard in the chest. Her breathing betrayed her anxiety,

"Do you want me to stop…?" He asked softly, his hands still against her skin, but cautiously, waiting for her answer.

"No…" She whispered in response, her voice lost to her apprehension. She felt his hands abandon her skin to the chill air and heard gentle clinking sounds…he was removing his weapons and gear. She felt his hands again, this time free of his gloves, as they traveled from her waist to her neck. A soft steam stroked the base of her neck and then a warm pressure replaced it…his lips. She felt his hands grasp her arms and slowly pull them away from her chest. As his lips left a trail of bliss across her neck, his hands carefully caressed her chest. He pulled her against him and the roughness of his clothes greeted her back. She could feel the heat radiating from his body as he continued to let his hands slowly roam. She knew her heart was pounding and it jumped as he compressed his palm against where the beating was strongest,

"Relax Alice." He murmured into her ear, his voice husky and full of passion.

"Connor, I've never…done this before…" She whispered her voice tinted with a slight fear. At her words his hands ceased their movement and he turned her around to face him.

"I will be gentle, do not fear. Trust me."

"No….I mean….like-like this…" He stood unmoving in front of her.

"Like, what?"

"Willingly…" Her confession brought a sustained silence from him and then she felt his fingers slowly caress her cheek. His lips soon followed, and as they found hers, her hands seemed to gain a confidence that her mind did not have. She outlined the buttons of his shirt before slowly plucking them open, exposing his torso. She could feel the full muscles of his chest and abdomen and the quickened pump of his life as her hands continued to rub his bare skin. The pressure of his lips became stronger and she felt his chest expand with a huge breath. He suddenly lifted her into his arms and carried her further into the darkness of the building. He rested her on a bed of furs and she heard him removing the rest of his clothing. She reached for her waist to pull off what remained of hers, but he pushed her hands away and slipped off her clothing. The pallet sunk as his weight was added to it and she could feel his presence looming over her. His body was bleeding heat as he pressed himself closer to her and met her lips again. She felt a hardness growing near her and the gentle tingling of his fingers near the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He moved his mouth to her neck by her ear and whispered,

"Relax…let me open your legs…" She wrapped her arms around him and allowed him to spread her legs wide. She gasped loudly as he pushed himself into her; the tightness was painful but began to slowly lessen as he massaged the base of her neck. She struggled to slow her breathing as he lifted her body closer to his. She felt her chest brush against his every time she inhaled.

"Easy….easy…" He cooed, his breath leaving lingering warmth against her neck. Neither of them moved for several moments, Connor gripped her against him, waiting for her to relax. The pressure of him inside her eased into a pleasurable force, causing her back to arch. His hand slid from the back of her neck to her lower back, guiding her body along with his as he moved out of her and then into her again. Her fingers found the arm he was supporting himself up with and she could feel his taunt muscles. She traced the curves of his arm with her one hand as the other found the back of his head. She slowly stroked her hand through his hair as he bent his neck, settling his lips into her collar bone. She tip-toed her other hand up his arm, past the solid mass of his shoulder and onto his back, feeling the heavy rise and fall of his breathing. She glided her hand up and down his back, massaging his spine before resting against his tailbone. It was then that he thrust hard into her and she felt his chest rumble with a groan of pleasure. He released her back from his hand and shifted so that he was holding himself with both arms. She could feel his fists ball the bedding tightly next to her. His face, still buried in her collar bone, emitted bursts of air as he nibbled on the now sweaty flesh of her shoulder. She relaxed herself and allowed him to further steer her body. She could hear his exertion now and feel his desire as he pushed himself harder into her and his breathing began to sound laborious. The pace was still slow, but even he had his limits and she even began to feel a satisfying fatigue. A jolt of ecstasy suddenly exploded through her body and she grasped onto Connor even stronger than before. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out and she felt him bite into her shoulder to suppress a groan. Waves of pleasure buffeted her as Connor slowly stroked her cheek. Spent, he half slumped onto her, breathing heavily. As the waves ebbed away, she felt him slide out of her and roll onto his side, he carefully pulled her against him; her back against his chest. His lips tickled the back of her neck as his hand traced the contours of her body from shoulder to thigh.

"We should not linger here too long…" His voice sounded distant with his face buried in her hair. In the darkness she felt the warmth of his body dissipate as he moved away from her and began dressing. She shyly turned herself in his direction and peeked a glance into the shadows. She saw the phantoms of his white sleeves dance as he pulled his arms into them. He paused sensing her stare,

"Are you unwell?" She saw his ghostly form kneel in front of her. She pulled the bedding around her to shield her body from his penetrating gaze. It was as though he could see through the dimness. She felt like she was on display,

"I am fine…you are right, we should go." She fumbled with the bedding before having something pressed into her hands, it was her clothes. She stood, using her clothes now as a barrier. She felt so exposed in front of him, despite the intimacy the two of them had just shared. She urged herself to dress faster, feeling a great need to flee from his inspection.

"Alice…what is wrong?" He gently took hold of her elbow, slowing her from pulling on her jacket. She tried in vain to yank her arm away, but knew it was hopeless.

"You…seem so casual with what we just did…" She confessed, as his hand fell from her arm.

"We cannot stay here as we were. The others will come and find us, which I do not want them to do. Do not confuse my need to leave here as a need to leave you." Connor explained, a hint of tenderness lingered at the edge of his words.

"We also have our target to deal with early tomorrow, we need to prepare." His voice became hard as he moved away from her to the entrance of the building. She saw his silhouette take solid form as he stood there waiting for her. She joined him and carefully molded her hand into his. He looked down at her from the corner of his hood and nodded.

"Tomorrow…"