*THIS IS NOT MY FIC BUT A RE-UPLOAD OF A STORY LOST*

Paring: Connor/Aveline

Genre: Adventure/Romance/Humor

Warnings: Violence, Smut, Lemons, Inane Silliness, A Few Segments of Randomness, and a Partridge and a Pair Tree.

Ready to Fall

Part I: Unexpected Disaster

The Trouble with Hellcats…

1775

New York

When I was five they came to my village, they took our land, slaughtered my mother. But they made one mistake: They left me alive. They left me with nothing but a burning desire for justice. So I joined an Order that was believed to exist only in legend. I learned to fight in ways no enemy could match. Now I stand among the greatest and fight for the weakest. And as the British army seizes control of our nation, I will suffer any hardship to win freedom for this land and justice for all.

Well… Almost, any hardship.

Aveline De Grandpre was her name. She could stop a man's heart in more ways than one – luring her prey from the guise of a lady, and destroying them with her charm and her blade. She was an assassin, just as I was and she fought for liberation. But she was a Hellcat, if I had ever truly met one. Our History together proved her deviancy.

I stared at her in shock… She had changed so much since I had last seen her. It had been years. Her dark chestnut hair was curled and pulled away from her face and neck, a drastic change from the boyish braids she normally wore. And that dress. That emerald dress with the cream colored neckline that dipped just to the valley of her breasts was… different as well. Nothing like her habitual trousers and leather vest. From my position on the slanted roof, I hid, crouched behind the warm, crimson, bricked chimney, watching her as her head fell back, her mouth opened, and her hand flew to the bicep of her escort's shoulder, seconds before she exploded on a fit of laughter. I could almost hear her mirth, though I was out of earshot… I glared, at the man as his cold eyes raked her from top to bottom but it wasn't because I was jealous or protective of her. It was because she was an Assassin and he… Well, he was a Templar. What could she possibly gain by flirting with the enemy?

I had been on this mission for a month now, tracking down a man by the name of William Brice, and followed him here: to New York. So why was Aveline De Grandpre, standing in the court yard before, giggling incessantly, hanging off Brice's arm like a hussy? A low growl erupted in my chest and I slid myself behind the chimney in order to regain my senses after seeing him wrap an arm around her thin, corset-bound waste, to lean in and whisper in her ear. She blushed… It was obvious even through the dark visage of her chocolate skin. After the few years we spent in training together, I was well acquainted with her embarrassment, her anger, her everything. Although she would never know it, I could pinpoint every emotion that crossed her face. No matter if it was hidden, or blatantly obvious. I could tell you her thoughts and emotions. I knew them all. I knew her. And I knew her well, I should add.

Allow me to explain…

1770

Davenport Manor

At the age of fourteen, I sought help from a man named Achilles. The Clan Mother of my village spoke with me – that night, I was visited by a spirit called Juno who told me to seek him out for his abilities – have him to train me. And so I did. At first, Achilles was not keen on the idea of instructing me in the ways of the Assassins but in time, he finally agreed to help me.

I remember that day clearly, the day I showed up at the old man's door. I traveled through the wilderness until, at length, I arrived on the stoop of a rundown mansion. I knocked twice before a dark-skinned man finally answered.

"What?!" He barked with the door barely ajar.

"Umm… I… I was told that you could train me."

"No." And then the door was shut.

So I knocked again…

"Go Away!"

"I'm not leaving!" I called back through the door as if the determination in my voice would cause him to waver.

I waited at the door until nightfall before I finally decided to take shelter in the barn on the edge of the side yard of the house. And the next day, I tried again. Knocking at every door until he leaned out from a window on the upper level of his home.

"Please! All I ask is a moment of your time!"

He smiled down at me and spoke very clear, "I apologize if I've been unclear – or otherwise confused you with my words. It was never my intention to mislead. So let me try to clarify… GET THE HELL OFF MY LAND!" Then he disappeared back into the house and slammed the window shut.

"I'm coming up!" I shouted before propelling myself up the nearest wall, grabbing onto window ceils and protruding bricks as I made my way to the balcony. By the time I reached the top, I ran to the door and start vigorously jiggling the handle. "Just hear me out! What are you so afraid of?"

The door, to my surprise, was ripped open, the knob flying from my hands as the old man suddenly stormed onto the balcony. "Afraid?! You thing I'm afraid of anything, least of all, a self-important little scab like you?!" He riled moments before his cane jutted out, the handle wrapping around my calf as he tripped me and knocked me onto my back. Before I could get up his legs were placed on either side of mine with his walking stick held at my throat. "Oh, you might dream of being a hero. Of riding to rescue, of saving the world- but stay this course, and the only thing you're gunna be is dead." He warned before moving away and heading back for the door. "The world's moved on, boy. Best you do too."

I got to my feet just as he slammed the door shut between us. My fist clenched and eyes narrowed towards the barrier. "I will not leave! Do you hear me?! I am neverleaving!"

And I meant those words…

It wasn't until that night, Achilles finally consented, but it wasn't without the price of bloodshed. Men surrounded his house for reasons I would never discover and we killed them… Afterward, he took me into his home, asked questions, and began my instruction.

So I trained. In running. In climbing. In fighting. In falling. And for every lesson that concerned the body, there were too that concerned the mind. Language. Philosophy. Logic. The Arts. Achilles taught most often of the Assassins and Templars. Their structures, origins, and purpose… Centuries of history condensed into a few short days. I told him of the men who had burned my village. Of Charles Lee and my promise to him. Achillies explained that Lee and his followers were Templars. And that they were led by none other than my own father. If I was to serve the Order, these men would become my targets. So I worked harder. Learned faster. But for all of my progress, it was clear that I still had much to learn. My training had only just begun.

That was especially clear when she walked into my life…

Six Months Later...

During the winter of 1770, Achilles and I traveled to Boston. It was my first time being in the city. The people. The smells. The sounds. Everything was so fresh, full of life, and in my youth I was awestruck by it all. I followed my mentor down the streets, exclaiming my wonder for such a place until he made it clear that this was no place for someone like me..

"There is so much life here. So many opportunities."

"For a few, my boy." Said Achilles. "For a few… There's a store close to here. You're to buy the items on this list. Tell them where the carriage is – and they'll see that it's loaded. Understood?" He asked, shoving a piece of parchment into my hands.

"Yes."

"Good." He replied, "You're also going to need a new name."

I turned to him and blinked, unsure as to why my birth name was no longer needed.

"Your skin is fair enough that you might pass for one with Spanish or Italian blood. Better to be thought a Spaniard than a Native." He told me. It all became clear. The colonists were prejudice and some were even concerned with race. "Both are better still than I."

"That is not true." I replied to encourage my mentor but he would have none of it.

"What's true and what is, aren't always the same."

"What would you call me then?"

"Connor… Yes. That will be your name." He said with a smile before pushing the edge of his cane into my side. "Alright then. Off you go!"

And I did as I was instructed before meeting Achilles back in front of the town house…

"I say again, disperse!" A red coat shouted into the crowd of angry colonists. "Congregation in this manner is forbidden!"

"We're not going anywhere-"

"Oi! Why don't you go back to England?!"

"No good can come of this Chaos! Return to you homes and all will be forgiven!" The Englishman tried again.

"Never!-"

"Not until you've answered for you crimes-"

"You're right cowards! Pointing guns at unarmed folk-"

"You don't scare us-"

"We ain't afraid!"

It was then I leaned towards Achilles, "What is this about?"

"I don't know, but from the looks of things, it's not going to be good… There." He finished, pointing through the crowd towards a neatly kept man, wearing royal blue robes, whisper something to his nearest colleague.

I knew him… Though I had never seen, nor spoken to him. I knew him. The portrait kept in the mansion's cellar betrayed him of his identity. "Is that my father…?" I was torn between hatred and fascination for him. The need to know him almost over powered the need for justice.

"Yes, which means trouble is sure to follow!" He replied. I looked to Achilles for orders and he did not disappoint. "I need you to tail his accomplice. This crowd is a powder keg. We can't allow him to light the fuse."

"But-"

"But nothing. Do as I say and go!"

My feet began to move my body away from Achilles and towards my father's co-conspirator, and not too soon. The moment I started for him he started down a dark alleyway, shifting through the angry mob. Sticking to the shadows, I follow him through the backstreets. And then, I noticed the rifle in his hands… Achilles was right. With my father being in Boston, trouble was sure to follow. I was not sure what he intended exactly but I knew innocent lives would be lost if I did not stand in their way.

The man crawled up a latter that led from the ground to the rooftop of a house just in front of the townhouse. I nonchalantly leaned in against a wall and waited for him to reach the top before taking the opportunity to follow up after him. Then, once on the covering, through the silent snowfall, I made out his figure as it was crouched on the corner of the rooftop, gun ready and aimed towards the crowd. I sprinted over the slick shingles and acted, drawing my training forth and putting it to good use by drawing my tomahawk from my deerskin belt. The firm thudding of my feet as I ran across the roof caught his attention at the last second. He turned to me, eyes wide, and swung his musket in my direction. The bayonet on the end wasn't enough to scare me even though he thrust it in my direction as I neared. Propelling myself on the raised window, I pressed my foot into the glass, feeling the fragile material crack under the weight of my body as I pushed off and flew towards my enemy. My hatchet swung forth and buried its razor edge into his neck, followed by the rest of my body as I pinned him in the snow. Then I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards me.

"Your plot has ended…" I growled.

"Not quite." He replied with a wicked sneer just before turning his head to the rooftop across the street.

There he was… The man I vowed my revenge on. Charles Lee.

He was there staring at me with his flintlock pointed in the air. Our eyes locked and I knew it was done. I had not stopped anything. He fired his weapon and started an unbridled chain reaction through Boston. The English soldiers on the ground panicked at the sound of the gunfire and began shooting into the crowd. I turned my gaze back to the man I'd sought after for so long to see him smirking at me as he backed away and disappeared on the other side of the rooftop. He got away…

My eyes scanned the crowd as men women and children fell under the merciless musket fire until they landed on my father. He and a British soldier starred up at me moments before the red coat was ordered to take aim and fire. Somehow, then, they all were aiming at me, as if I had been the one to take the first shot and start this massacre. I fled…

Barreling across rooftops, dodging fire, trying to avoid conflict, I ran away. Achilles was still in that crowd and I could only hope for the best – hope he wasn't lost to the sea of musket fire. I sprinted after seeing the gap between buildings ahead. I knew if I could move fast enough, I could make the jump with no effort. But as I approached with swift determination, the cracking sound of gun fire startled me and I fell face first onto the shingles. It was lucky, of course. The lead ball that followed the shot had smacked into the roof where I had been not a second ago. The red coats were gaining on me and it seemed there was no way out of Boston. From across the street I could see more of them, running to head me off. And from behind, within earshot, I could hear the soldier behind me as he rammed the next shot down the barrel. So, with little time, I began crawling and slipping through the snow capped rooftop before losing my balance again. Only this time, I was sliding through the white flurry with uncontrollable speed, being culled down the slanted roof by gravity, and being unable to stop it. My body fell from the ascension just as I was able to grip a loose shingle. I pulled myself back up. And with half my body dangling over the edge, I looked up only to stare down the barrel of a rifle. The Englishman behind me was much closer than I had feared. Just as he was about to take the shot, I let go of the roof and fell backwards, bracing myself for the collision from the cobblestone streets but it never came. I had landed flat on my back - my fall broken by the itchy, damp, cushioning of a hay filled cart.

The initial shock of surviving the fall came moments after I heard voices through the hay. The guards had circled the area which I had fallen.

"Where'd he go?!"

"Spread out! He couldn't have gotten far!"

"Find him!"

I held my breath, realizing I was concealed under the fodder. Silence was my ally… Their footsteps thundered and crunched through the snow as they separated and started their search for me. Once the way was clear, I jumped from my safeguard and sprinted towards the docks, hearing the bells toll in the distance, alerting the soldiers of the danger I supposedly was to them.

Once I reached the waterfront, I was stopped by a man named Samuel Adams. He taught me the ways of Boston and how to slip through without being noticed. He snuck me onto a ship and from there the harbor master sent me on to Davenport.

By the time I arrived, I was furious with my mentor. He abandoned me – left me to fend for myself. I sprinted from the docks and ran up the hill until I arrived at the manor. Barging through the door, I had almost forgotten the layout of the house as I searched through the rooms for Achilles. I moved into the living room and saw him sitting next to the fire.

"Welcome back." He started easily.

"You left me in Boston!" I growled.

"The training we've done here is all well and good, but experience is a better teacher by far."

"What of my father?!"

"Into the wind I'm afraid…"

I clenched my fist… He was gone. And So was Lee. "We have to find him!"

"And we will. But first there's someone I'd like you to meet."

"But he's out there plotting who-knows-what!" I continued as I paced across the creaking floorboards.

"And what would you do if you found him? If you found him… You're a boy with a few months of training. He's a man, full grown, who's spent decades honing his skills. If you're going to stand a chance against the Templars, you're going to need these…"

Achilles reached the side table next to his chair and took up a wooden box before presenting it to me. I took it quickly, still irritated by the events in Boston, my mentor's words, and my father. But it all seemed irrelevant once I opened the box. Achilles' hidden blades were nestled inside and I could only imagine what this could mean. I looked to my mentor with a hopeful gaze and smiled.

"Go on. Before I change my mind." He said playfully, waving his hand through the air as if to dispense of any heartfelt words.

No sooner did I place them on my wrists that I heard the floorboards scream in protest in the room directly above my head. My attention snapped from the blades to the ceiling before glancing back to Achilles.

"Someone is upstairs." I muttered before turning on my heel and sprinting for the staircase. "It could be Templars!"

"Connor, wait!"

I did not pay any mind to the words of my mentor as I made my way up to the second level of the manor. The noise was there again as someone carelessly moved about in the furthest bedroom. What were they looking for? I crossed the landing and saw shadows from under the door between me and my opponent. My first thought was, that I had been followed from Boston. But no matter how much training I had, nothing could have prepared me for what I was to face.

Readying my blades, I kicked the bedroom door open and barged inside, charging the body before me, and pinned it onto the bed. An effeminate growl sounded and I blinked, looking at the person below me, I realized it was a girl. But it was not only that I had, in my stupidity, attack a female. Save for the fact that, I had unceremoniously pinned the weaker sex to the mattress in the guest bedroom, I had done so to that of a half dressed lady. The scene knit before me and suddenly, I felt the blush creeping up my neck…

There she was. Her dark, cider eyes glaring daggers into me as I held her wrists above her head, keeping her in place on the bed. I gulped at the hatred in her stare and opened my mouth to say something but it was then I realized her dark, bare, thighs had wrapped themselves around my waist during the struggle. Her white button-up shirt was undone, revealing the smooth path of chocolate skin between her breasts, and continued on from her chest to her naval.

"I… Umm… I thought… I would never just…" I sputtered, allowing my grip to slacken - a mistake I was sure not to make again. The second I had let her free, she rose up and slapped me straight across the face. The sting of her palm refueled my rage. "What was that for?!" I barked, holding my swelling face.

"You… Complete… Arse!" She roared.

And I suppose I deserved what I received but it did not help me learn the lesson as I watched her right herself and button her shirt. It also didn't help that I was distracted by her accent. It was not like that of the colonists, nor of the English… No. That was French.

"How could you just come in here and-and – UHG! What kind of madness-"

"Connor!" Just then Achilles voice sounded from behind me.

I turned to see him standing in the doorway. His smirk was more than enough insight, that he had seen most of what transpired between us. He cleared his throat and stepped forward, hobbling along on his cane before he grabbed the hem of my shirt and dragged me from the room.

"Well, I was going to introduce you to your new classmate but it seems I'm too late." He chuckled as he continued pulling me from the room.

"I was just… I did not know she-" I tried but Achilles cut me off.

"Come, my boy. Let's give our guest some privacy. Can't have you peeping at her while she changes."

"W-What? No! I never meant to-"

"Hush, Connor. Let's go. I'll explain all of this in a moment."

I glanced back onto the girl. Her arms were folded across her chest. Her shirt hung loosely around her hips. And her lips were puckered towards me as she continued scowling. Her stare felt as if she were burning holes into my head. Her glare was the last thing I saw before Achilles slammed the door shut, shrouding her from my view. I felt like a dog…

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Okay so, after playing this mission (The Boston Massacre) for some reason this idea to write this fiction popped into my mind. Honestly whenever I play this, the game just screams fanfiction! So I started this… Because when Connor makes it back to Davenport Homestead and barges through the door freaking out about how Achilles left him in Boston, I was sitting there with controller in hand saying to myself "Wouldn't it be cool if Aveline were there talking with Achilles for some strange reason?" Then I remembered the wonderful world of Fanfiction and grabbed a pin to jot down ideas as I continued on through the game.

Something fun – My Playlist for this Fiction:

Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

All About Us by He Is We

He's a Pirate by Tiesto

Kiss It Better by He Is We

Prove You Wrong by He Is We

The Price of Freedom from the Final Fantasy: Crisis Core Soundtrack

Forever and Ever by He Is We

Replay by He Is We

I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift

I Wouldn't Mind by He is We

I have no idea why these songs helped to inspire this fic but for some reason I started listening to them when I started writing and BOOM fanfiction. Again I have no idea why… Most of them don't even make sense or fit in with the game but oh well. So in case you wanted to get into my mind, fire these songs up. Kiss it Better will make you cry though… just a warning.

I should also mention I have never played Liberation, so I'm sorry if Aveline is out of character. I do know however, that she is actually 9 years older than Connor but for the sake of the story she will be the same age if not younger. She is just going to have an OC (Original Character) personality since I don't own one of those little handheld game thingies. I know very little about her other than the few things I've read in magazines and online. But it will make for an interesting story and I plan on making Connor be as close to 'In Character' as I can get. He's annoying to write because he doesn't use contractions. For Example. Connor says "Do Not, I Am, and Will Not" instead of "Don't, I'm, and Won't." It can sound pretty cheesy. He does that in the game a lot... always, actually. -_-

Please review! I hope you liked my first chapter!

Thanks for giving it a chance and reading! I appreciate it!