AN: Aha, so yeah I've always been interested in Haytham and Connor's relationship (or lack thereof) and yanoe, was like, I want to write this. So yeah, I was thinking a few chapters just describing different situations they'd get in...tell me what you think ^^ I tried to keep them in character but since it's my first time writing them well...I'm not sure if I got it all down right aha ^^''

The Templar & The Assassin

A Walk In The Woods

"What are you doing up there? Stop hopping around in tree's like an animal and come down!" The only reply Haytham Kenway received was a grunt.

Haytham had only just been acquainted with his estranged son, and had hoped to gain some sort of relationship with him (where it didn't involve them trying to kill each other), and of course have him join the Templar Order, however Connor seemed hell bent on being obstinate and as difficult as possible—not to mention stubborn like his mother.

"What's the problem, Father? Can't you keep up?" Connor taunted, lazily making his way across the tree branches a few paces ahead of his father. He smirked when his dark brown eyes connected with Haytham's pale blue ones, recognizing the spark of irritation in them.

Father generally has that look in his eyes when around me. Connor mused to himself. Allowing a chuckle to escape his lips, he hummed as an idea formed in his head.

Haytham watched as his son gracefully jumped a small gap and landed lithely on the next branch, though it did dip considerably under his weight.

He didn't know how he had allowed himself to be cajoled by the young man to accompany him for a 'walk' through the forest. If he knew that by 'walk' Connor had meant tree climbing, Haytham would have refused point blank.

Enjoy nature, he said. Father son bonding, he said. Haythem scowled when he stepped in something brown that smelt none too pleasant, and vowed to never follow Connor anywhere ever again.

Years of training, however, made him instantly alert to the fact that it had gone quiet…too quiet. He strained his ears whilst staying perfectly still for any sign of his son.

"Connor?" Haytham called, peering around in the thick foliage, waiting to catch a glance of white that would signify where his son was.

"Boo." Connor whispered in a monotone. Haytham turned around and with lightening reflexes (especially for someone of his age), he punched the offending person in the face. He realised that it had been Connor he had punched, who had been hanging upside off of a branch behind him.

Glancing down at the younger man haughtily, he made no move to help him up. Instead, he watched with an air of indifference as Connor pulled himself to his feet. Gingerly touching his nose, Connor winced and let his hands drop to his sides.

"You punched me!" he exclaimed, sending Haytham and accusatory glare. Brown eyes clashed with blue ones and for a few minutes nothing was said as both men squared up to each other.

"You snuck up on me. Perhaps if you had listened to me in the flirt place and had walked on the ground like a normal person, this could have been avoided." Haytham replied, falling into step beside Connor.

"There was no need to react to violently." Connor murmured, pulling his hood up so it obscured most of his face. Haytham could see him pouting though, and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Stop being so childish." He commanded, roughly pulling the hood down.

"That hurt." Connor pulled his hood up again and slapped Haytham's hand that came up to pull it down again.

"Oh, I'm sorry; did you want me to hold your hand and kiss it better?" Haytham retorted, his voice heavily laced with sarcasm. His eyebrows rose mockingly and watched as Connor scowled at him.

As the duo made their way deeper into the forest, Haytham noticed with increasing worry that the sky was an inky black, with only the moon to light their way; the tree's cast threatening shadows over the two men as they continued their walk.

Connor noticed (with some satisfaction) that his father seemed twitch every time a bush rustled, or whenever the wind would howl through the tree's and ruffle their leaves.

"Connor, I suggest you to lead the way back now." Haytham ordered more than anything else. His eyes narrowed as Connor ignored him; he was not used to being ignored. Seething, he roughly grabbed Connor's arm and spun him around.

"Now." They stared at each other in a battle of wills, but Haytham came out the victor.

"Fine." Connor all but slapped his father's hand away from him and stalked back the way they came, his hood obscuring his face form view.

It soon became painfully obvious to both of them that they were in fact, lost. When the pair had passed the same suspiciously shaped tree, Haytham huffed and stopped walking altogether. He rubbed his hands in a vain attempt to warm them up, and watched as his breath came out in icy swirls.

"We're lost." Haytham deadpanned, watching as a myriad of emotions flitted across his sons face. Finally, Connor settled for an indignant look which he wasted no time in sending to Haytham.

"We are not lost." He stressed, swirling around and yanking his hood down so he could run his fingers through his hair. A few strands came loose of his low ponytail in his agitation, and he didn't bother to put them back in place.

"Great! Just great! First of all you go gallivanting around in trees like…like some sort of animal, and then you get us lost! Unbelievable…" Haytham exploded, dragging a hand over his face tiredly. How he wished he was at home, tucking into a delicious roast dinner.

"This is not my fault. You distracted me with your constant whining—" Connor was cut off mid-sentence by his father's incredulous splutter of protest.

"Whining? Whining?! That's rich coming from you—"

"Arguing will get us nowhere. I will climb a tree and find out where we are. Wait here." Connor ran full sprint up a tree and hauled himself up so he could start climbing.

Haythem glared for all he was worth before finding a stump and slouching down on it in defeat. The cold air nipped at his face, and he was beginning to lose all feeling in his fingers.

"Connor!" He called, his voice startling a few nearby birds. "Hurry up!"

A dull thump signalled Connor's return, and he set of purposefully, his father right behind him.

"I know where we are now. We will soon be back in New York." Haytham muttered a string of curses as he fought his way through tough shrubbery which seemed out against him. Connor seemed to part a way for himself through the bushes, not getting a scratch on him. Haytham, however, had received a few slaps to the face by thin tree branches that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

He exhaled heavily in relief when they once again found themselves on the bustling streets of New York.

"Never again, Connor." Haytham vowed, massaging his head in exasperation.

Connor only smirked in reply.

"I can assure you, however, that I will be picking our next 'father son' activity." That wiped the smirk right off of Connor's face.