A/N: This story is set after the events of ACIII. *All I own is the plot and the OCs. Everything else belongs to Ubisoft*

The first few chapters are setting up the OC and the situation, so they are a little bit slow, but don't worry, excitement (and of course Connor) comes in very soon!

We all know that Connor married/had children, because otherwise Desmond wouldn't exist. That led me to wonder what kind of woman Connor would have fell in love with. Would she be stubborn or gentle? A fellow Assassin or a normal citizen? How did they meet and fall in love? This story is me exploring one possibility of what his wife could be like.

Please review, but be gentle - this is my first fanfiction! :)

Rated M to be safe for the future, for violence and suggestive themes. Also, I am trying to be as historically accurate as possible, but I am taking some liberties with a few things to make it fit the story.

"The knowledge that makes us cherish innocence makes innocence unattainable." Irving Howe

PROLOGUE

1776

The crowd was deafening, hurling insults and curses upon the man approaching the scaffold. Standing there with her father and siblings, the girl was uncomfortable. She did not want to witness this, but her father had dragged her and her brothers and sisters to this place to look upon the man who had plotted to kill George Washington. Her father, being the outspoken patriot that he was, wanted to watch the execution, and took his middle children with him, the smallest two being two young to see such a thing, and the three oldest being otherwise occupied.

The girl was the youngest out of the present siblings, at 14. Her eldest brothers hadn't wanted her to attend, but her father had insisted. It was to be a lesson of what happened to traitors, he had said when his friend had come to fetch them. The girl hadn't thought much of what being witness at a hanging really entailed, but now that she was here, she wished to shut her eyes and go home.

"Are you alright, Rachel?" Her brother Samuel asked, able to see the horror already written on his young sister's face. Although her face was a pale white, she nodded, and he rested a hand on her shoulder in comfort before giving a disapproving look to his father. The child should never have been here. None of them should have been here. Their father should not have brought his children into his own affairs, but there was nothing that could be done now.

As the traitor approached, the girl wondered why he had plotted to kill Washington. Why would anyone want to kill him? Such hate and violence wasn't something she yet understood or was familiar with, especially since she had been raised in a wealthy household away from most of the cruelty of the war.

The native man walked forward, flanked by two soldiers. Despite the horrible words being hurled at him, he looked straight ahead, no despair showing in his face. How could he not be afraid? As the girl curiously watched him, she noticed his terrible appearance. Blood had dripped down his shirt, creating a large stain on the front. He had obviously been beaten, face cut and swollen. Despite his actions, the girl found herself feeling sympathy for him.

"I have heard he is innocent," her older sister muttered. "Henry said that he heard the man was wrongly accused."

"Abigail," Samuel warned. "Not here."

Suddenly, he stopped before the scaffold, staring it down as if it was an opponent in battle. By chance, his glance met Rachel's. She stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to turn away from his weary face.

Just as he let his eyes fall to the ground, a woman standing just next to the family broke out of the crowd, punching him hard across the face. Rachel gasped, hand flying to her mouth as her brother's hand tightened on her shoulder. The man fell to his knees and didn't acknowledge his attacker, even when she hurled a glob of spit at him. As quickly as she appeared, though, she was pushed back by an elderly man who knelt next to the prisoner, speaking hushed words to him. Rachel couldn't make it out, but the young man's voice resonated in response, surprisingly strong and insistent despite his weary state.

"Don't worry about me," he insisted. Rachel couldn't make out the rest of his words as he was pulled up by a man who whispered taunts into his ear. Pushing him towards the stairs to the scaffold, the finely clothed man looked quite satisfied, a sick smile evident on his face.

"I can't watch this," Abigail whispered.

"Brothers. Sisters. Fellow patriots," a loud voice began. The voice belonged to a man of obvious high rank, who was standing upon the scaffold.

"Charles Lee," Samuel explained.

"Several days ago, we learned of a scheme so vile, so dastardly, that even repeating it now, disturbs my being." As he walked across the stage, hands making large gestures as his dynamic voice echoed through the streets, the prisoner watched him. His chin was held high with pride, but there was no arrogance in his face.

"The man before you plotted to murder our much beloved General." Boos erupted from the crowd. "Indeed. What darkness or madness moved him, none can say. And he himself utters no defense. Shows no remorse. And though we have begged and pleaded with him to share what he knows, he maintains a deadly silence." As the Lee covered the young man's face with a sack, a sick feeling grew in Rachel's stomach. How could she watch this? "If the man will not explain himself, if he will not confess and atone, what other option do we have, but this? He sought to send us into the arms of the enemy! And thus we are compelled by justice to send him from this world." Raising his arm to give the signal, a look of satisfaction spread across Lee's face.

"May God have mercy on your soul."

Rachel tried to close her eyes, to turn her head, to drop her eyes... Anything to keep her from watching. She had not even been able to witness a chicken slaughtered for her table, and her father had brought her here! Still, she could not take her eyes away from the scene.

The floor fell away and the man flailed as he choked on his own weight. It was then that she buried her face in her brother's chest, tears welling up in her eyes. Regardless of what this man had done, she didn't want to watch him die. She couldn't. Samuel smoothed her hair, comforting her as best he could.

Rachel expected a cheer to rise from the crowd, signaling his death, but instead all that came from their mouths were screams. Jerking her head up, she stared in disbelief as she watched the rope be severed by a flying axe, thrown with absolute precision. People were running now, unsure of what was going on and afraid for what was going to happen. In the chaos, Rachel lost track of her family. Frozen with uncertainty, she watched as the breathless man hobbled away from the scaffold, a weapon in his hand as he made for the same man who had taunted him earlier. As he started running towards the fleeing man, Rachel felt a tug on her arm as her brother pulled her away.

She looked back just in time to see the former prisoner kill the man, brutally hitting him with his weapon before standing over his body.

"Rachel, come on!" Wrenching her eyes away, she ran, following her brother. She had witnessed death, and she would not ever be the same because of it.

*Disclaimer: Lee's speech is obviously not mine, whatsoever. Neither is the events of this scene that don't have to do with my OCs.*