Stranger to The Creed
I do not own any of these characters except the woman I created for this, Ubisoft owns everyone else and the locations.
On the boundary of sleep and wakefulness, the light patter of rain dragged Connor from a much needed slumber. His eyes encrusted with less than a full night's rest, he tried to hold closed as the hazy morning fought to open them. His stirrings drew the attention of a cool cloth to his bare chest and whispered utterances to try and go back to sleep. He dragged his arm from under the warmth and into the chilly atmosphere of the bedroom and clasped the hand pressing the cloth to his chest.
"Ratonhnhake:ton, sleep…" She always called him by his real name, the only person to still do so. The way she spoke his name, her voice tilting with the foreign pronunciation, began to ease him back into a peaceful and doctor-ordered rest. As the bed began to cocoon around him once again, the hushed click of the door opening and whispered conversation that followed prevented him from fully tumbling into sleep once more. Someone approached the bed and sat upon its edge. The bed protested softly, the ropes supporting the mattress creaking against the added weight. The new occupant gently folded the blankets down to Connor's waist and began examining the heavy bruising that Connor's ribcage was hidden under. His sleep-addled brain immediately registered the prodding and he could not suppress the grumble of pain that vibrated in his chest.
"Sssshhhhh…." A hand enveloped the one he lifted to cease the examination and gave him a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
"It's healing well. How has he been sleeping?" Connor recognized Dr. White's voice, the man's whose home he had collapsed outside of the night of his injury. He could not remember when that was, the pain from what Dr. White had called a bone bruise, had exhausted him, stealing all sense of time.
A feminine voice responded truthfully; his sleep had been restless but his appetite voracious. Dr. White's muffled chuckle was somewhat lost on her, she had been away from her own people too long to understand that sometimes the truth held more humor than a lie. After clearing his throat of any further laughter, Dr. White traded more words with her about Connor's health and recovery ending with his usual to call him if he was needed. The doctor's receding footfalls across the bedroom floor, down the stairs and the shutting of the front door, finally drew Connor's attention to the silence of the room and the woman who continued to occupy it with him. He pried his eyes open and dragged his head across the pillow to catch a glimpse of her before sleep consumed him.
She stood tall and commanding, clad head to toe in buck skin. The wisps of her red hair, escaping the braids like miniature flames, brushing against her pale skin and dress was a sight to behold. It was as though she was a goddess on fire. Her arms were crossed under her breasts and she was glaring at the door as though she could will it burn right before her eyes. His stare caught her attention and her face softened. She released her arms and was at his side with a cold, damp cloth, trying to wipe the pain-induced sweat from his brow and chest. He allowed himself to smile, remembering this was similar to how he met her in the first place…