Repletion

Her head turned just enough that she could eye him in the most subtle way that she knew how. She'd had plenty of time to hone just such a skill. The only downside had been that nine times out of ten, no matter how sly she thought she was being, he had his eyes on her.

What is he looking for?

She couldn't quite understand what he found so intriguing about her. Perhaps it was the sculpting of her face. Maybe it was the stark contrast between their skin. They were as night and day, after all. At least they certainly seemed to be when they stood beside one another. He seemed from a much finer world than she. Too many would look at him, claim him a man of refined taste and be utterly unimpressed by her. She was the one who was painted as a barbarian.

Surely he didn't think the same of her. His frequently kind gazes said otherwise. If she was capable of reading him in any form.

Ziio had not been incorrect either. Even as she moved quickly beneath the trees and over the ground, he followed closely at her side. When they both came to a halt in the eerie silence of the forest, she took the time to truly look at him. Was he breathless? No. He didn't appear to be. Perhaps his cheeks a little flushed due to their pacing, but she imagined he could have sprinted quite the distance if he'd really needed to. Although… perhaps not in that apparel of his.

She could have him out of his world of fancy garments, but evidently not out of the garb itself.

"Haytham," she addressed him quietly.

Accompanied by nothing save the occasional chirping of birds and nature's rustling of tree branches, it was as if her words echoed. His response was not immediate, but as if to imply he knew where she was heading, without her being so obvious.

His mouth curved into a faint smile and lifting a hand, he used it to support himself against the rough bark of the closest tree they stood beneath. Leaning over her, his gaze reflected his confidence, the same look she had seen in him several times before. "Ziio," he replied succinctly, making no additional advance against her.

Eying him carefully, she remained silent and simply spoke with her stare. It was prying and yet, in her cryptic fashion, said nothing about whatever she might have thought of him or their situation. Then after a moment's consideration, her right hand found his chest and she moved to shift around him. She was always turning tail from him. Never fleeing out of cowardice, but rather that there was quite the game of cat and mouse between them.

It wasn't difficult to tell who played which role either.

Before she could completely pull away, however, he captured her by the wrist gently, tipped his head, and gave her an encouraging tug back to him. "Are you always going to do that?" When she didn't seem to understand—which was surely a clever ruse on her part—he clarified. "Giving 'come hither' looks before you distance yourself. It really can be quite frustrating at times. I expect you to grant me leniency at some point."

With a world of things sitting upon the tip of her tongue, she cycled through her options and found none of them appropriate for the situation. Not as appropriate as she would have preferred them to be. Even at her most indecent, however, Ziio held a type of reservation about her that she felt must have put Haytham on edge some times before. He was clearly a man of some experience beside her, but it seemed all too apparent that he knew little of the strength derived from love.

Perhaps she allowed herself to be more vulnerable than she wanted to admit, however, for her gaze did soften just so. Chin tipped up to eye him better, she playfully shifted her wrist against his grasp with the very light hint of a smile. "What would you have me do?" she asked him in her best Haytham-mocking tone. They were his words, after all, and she was only temporarily borrowing them for the sake of the situation.

Drawing her wrist above her head, he planted her back against the tree, seemingly quite content to put their exploration to a momentary pause. A few minutes. A few hours. Had they anywhere to be? No. Previous engagements didn't seem to exist frequently in Ziio's life. Not since they'd put down Edward Braddock and she'd shown him the sacred footing of her people. Haytham had not found what he was searching for, but he'd come out of it with the realisation of this woman in his heart, and he in hers. The journey itself had not been in vain for either of them.

"Teasing me now," he scolded her gently. His other hand reached for her face and in a meticulous fashion, his fingertips grazed over a cheekbone. Following her right braid with great care, he lost none of the odd compassion he carried. "Humour me, if you will. Much of you remains an enigma to me." Looking aside, his expression turned sly and clever, "As you lack an escape, Ziio, perhaps you would be willing to answer some questions of mine."

And what foolish things would you have to ask of me?

If the circumstance had been different, she would have ignored him outright. If their eyes already had not met in dim lighting, if their bodies had not already had cast upon them shadows in the darkness, Ziio could have easily refused. But she had been moved by him and if his treatment of her was any indication, he may have felt the same. With many things pertaining to the handsome man, she could only form theories and selfish desires. Yet the present time was kind to them both, for their yearnings remained the same and kept them close to one another.

In even a less than favourable situation, Ziio found that if Haytham was a part of it, she didn't mind surrendering to him so much.

He interpreted her lack of a response as a means to proceed, which he did without much hesitance. The hand at her braid before followed the curve of her body modestly, which was nearly always hidden beneath her robes. But he knew better and she was aware of that, which was what permitted him to hold her in the fashion he chose to. Reserved Haytham was a handsome Haytham, but she couldn't think of a thing she had yet to witness that she didn't appreciate.

"I do not trust you."

Enough time had passed that somewhere in those lines, she had begun to. She had to, at some degree. And it wasn't as if he'd not proven himself useful. She could stand with him, at his side, and know well enough that he had her back should she need it. But he also respected that she could handle herself in return. She was no maiden in need of rescuing and he had no reason to play the part of a saviour. After all, he had saved her once and that was all that was needed.

So perhaps one day, she would be able to save him as well. It was a nice thought to entertain. A debt to be repaid, aside from the temple lands that he'd found nothing of use in.

"What do you like most here?" He looked aside from her and around them to imply he meant the forest. "You grew up here, I assume, so there must be something you favour above others."

His question puzzled her and she wondered what ultimate point he was attempting to make. Haytham seemed to always have a plan of action and she didn't much appreciate roundabout routes. If Ziio could be direct, she would be, and she liked it when he got to the point. But considering who he was, she decided she could humour him for a little while longer. He had surprised her once or twice before.

She cocked an eyebrow as she eyed him, the lines in his face, the faint half curl in his mouth, and his genuinely curious expression. "Of all things to ask me, I see very little reason for you to that kind of information to benefit you."

"Believe it or not as you choose to, Ziio, however not all information from you is meant to benefit me." When she didn't argue, he continued with a slightly more gentle tone. "Answer, please."

As she tipped her chin up, she looked about slowly, wondering if there was anything she really appreciated more. The forest in general had been an irreplaceable ally. It was a place she considered home. It was her safe haven when she was not in the village. She hunted, rested, and spent idle hours there. It was, in one form or another, her sanctuary, and Ziio had a distinct fondness for all things in it. She was grateful for each thing it had to offer her. It would be difficult to pick one thing over the others. What was Haytham truly hinting at?

"That is not simple," she replied to him. "The forest does many things. It provides sustenance and tranquility. Peace of mind. If you require that I pick one, then the trees." She could travel by them and they cloaked her well. She was fast, too, and that was never a bad thing. Not when she could outrun a soldier.

"Trees," echoed Haytham with a nod. "Yes, I can understand why. How fitting for you." As if unable to keep his hands still, he played with the ornaments of her garb. She had plenty for him to distract himself with, after all. Beads, feather, and fringe. She was quite the decorated girl for being one of nature. "Would you consider yourself a free spirit?"

Once more she looked skeptical and after a sharp look that seemed incredulous, she nodded. "You would know that already. There is no need for you to ask, Haytham. You have nothing better to do than to gather information you have?"

He sighed at her, making no effort to hide the way he felt he was conceding to her impatience. "Are you in haste today?"

"No. I have no interest in delays. If you want something, say so. We have no need for games between us."

As he leaned in to her, he settled his cheek against hers. "I had not intended to play." Then a pause, "Not in the way that you may think." Turning his head so he might better eye her, he gave her a smile. Light in its own right, but wholly genuine. "One more, Ziio. You have my word."

Unamused and reluctant, she nodded to him, making no point to acknowledge the rest of what he'd said. "If you must."

"I must," he assured her quietly.

What followed after was not something she had foretold. He freed her wrist in favour finding the comfortable curve behind her ear. Holding her as gently as he could, he waited until she placed her full attention onto him. It must have been serious, for rather than the lighthearted demeanour he'd adopted before, there remained a sense of propriety. A virtuous man of some form, indeed. Still chivalric in a time when the people who came to claim her land held none of that. Or at least very little—if any at all.

"What I wish to know," Haytham began, "…What I really wish to know…" Moving so he might settle his forehead to hers, he kept a pause for a few moments longer. "Are you happy, Ziio?"

Initially, she wasn't sure she heard him right. A little confusion stained her features and she gave his question sincere thought. Was she happy? In that immediate moment, yes. She wouldn't have said it in such a way. 'Happy' wasn't really a word she could see herself using. She was content, however. She enjoyed his company and their time together. And it was true that in having him around that she felt a degree of… Well. She couldn't quite say. She cared for him deeply and having him care for her in return just as much was not a feeling she disliked.

But she could not be pleased alone with her own situation. She had her people to worry for. She had the colonist expansion that had to leave her lands free to those who lived on them. Could they coexist peacefully? She'd wondered it many times, had preferred it to be that way, but the moment people like Edward Braddock thought of them as primitive savages, she had lost a good deal of that faith. Yet not all people were like Braddock and at the same time, not all people were like Haytham Kenway for that matter.

"There are still many things that must be done," she replied to him solemnly. "Yet in these moments with you, I feel content. My heart feels peace."

How long would it last? Another question she didn't have an answer to. Another circumstance she didn't want to try to predict. Eventually he would return to his own world to find whatever it was he'd been searching for. She knew it, was prepared for it, but hoped that before he'd take his leave that she could show him the things he'd not known. Love, perhaps. The kind of love that could come from someone who seemed akin to him.

As he eyed her, he took her words with great thought, and he appeared to understand without her needing to clarify. Even more, he seemed to respect her with the same kind of longing he'd held for her many times before. Perhaps he had a want to take her away with him. To show her a new life. But it was her home and he knew well enough she wouldn't leave it. He couldn't ask her to. Not for him. And he wouldn't.

"Yes," Haytham agreed. "There are many things that remain." Settling a kiss to her forehead, he continued, "For as long as you would have me, Ziio, I will remain as well."

She didn't need him, which he knew. What he really said implied that it was less that compulsive obsession and more a sincere want. He stayed because he chose to and it could not hurt for him to know she truly wanted him around. Like the other occasional times that her features softened in his midst, she flashed him a smile. Her hands lifted to his face and her chin tipped up, she drew him closer to repay him in kind.

"Then I suppose it's a good thing I've not tired of your company, Haytham."