A/N Hello lovelies! New story! :D I was playing Assassin's Creed 3 recently and realized how much love Connor needs, so here ya go! This will be a love story between your favorite native assassin and my OC, a Scottish lady assassin who totally turns Connor on. The usual, smutty content with a big dose of awesomeness. Enjoy!

The Last of her Kind

It is strange how two destinies can become so intertwined in such a short amount of time. It was the last thing Rowena Rose expected when she relocated from her home in Scotland to the colonies in 1776, just in time to see the states claim independence from the British. She couldn't blame them. Great Britain was an empire that wanted to steal away the entire world into its own. Her father had nursed a personal vendetta against England for merging with Scotland when King James I inherited the British throne in 1603. Before James had become King, the British waged a war with Scotland when Queen Elizabeth I indicated Queen Mary of Scots a threat, having her beheaded. When Elizabeth died, there was no heir save James, and so the countries were unified in 1707.

Rowena had witnessed England's tyranny, she being the only living female Assassin of the time. She had traveled all over Europe during her training and had even met King George III himself, disguised as a noblewoman. She soon found herself being relocated when her family home was destroyed and her family dead. Rowena blamed British soldiers who had attempted to silence her father when he had spoken out publicly against the English government. She had left the country with her inheritance and her skills, not before slaughtering every one of the soldiers.

The ship she had departed on was a furnished and sturdy ship known asthe Aquila, which was departing Scotland back to Boston. The captain had been a friend of her father's and had welcomed the lovely young woman graciously onto the ship. The ride itself was pretty quiet, minus a few of the sailor's attempts to bed her. She had threatened to snap their necks if they even made an attempt, and so they mostly stayed away. To earn her passage, Rowena gladly assisted with the ship's daily work, to which the men on deck found themselves astounded at the strength of the beautiful buxom redhead.

Light porcelain skin glowed in the bright sunlight, light violet irises sparkled like the ocean waves. Long, luscious red hair bounced with her every movement as her adorable face freckles darkened in the daily work. She ignored the norm of women's clothing and wore loose white shirts tucked inside khaki trousers, with her knee high assassin boots clinging to her calves in every gorgeous way. She was truly a beauty.

The sailors of the Aquila arrived in Boston in a little less than a month, and Rowena wrinkled her nose at the odorous scent that emulated from the city. It was nothing like the open, foresty plains of Scotland. The Aquila docked and the sailors piled off with the cargo destined to sell. Robert Faulkner, the captain, ushered the young woman off the ship.

"Go take a look at the city, lass! I'll be right here until the cargo is all sold, and we'll head back to base where a friend of mine will take you in," said Faulkner as Rowena shuffled off the ship. She had changed into women's attire, braiding her hair down and pulling it over her shoulder. Wearing the sailor clothes would only draw attention to herself, which was the last thing she wanted. Rowena was indeed clever, and wouldn't carelessly give herself away. She walked about the city sightseeing, watching the townsfolk go about their daily lives. It seemed that people here were most definitely a little calmer than her fellow Scots. She did her best to ignore the stares she got from the folk, some admiring, and some enviable. A group of men who were talking to each other outside of a tavern noticed her, when one even whistled at her and grabbed at her skirts, to which she shoved against the wall with her hidden blades drawn out of her long sleeves.

"Hold up there, girly, that's not ladylike," he stammered, his friends backing away slowly in fright. Rowena bared her teeth and growled at him, her purple eyes almost black in anger.

"Don't think for a minute that I give a fuck about what 'ladylike' is, colonial," she hissed in her beautiful thick Scottish accent. Withdrawing her blades, she released the man and went about her way, all of the men too scared to go after her or report her. Fortunately, the townsfolk seemed too busy to have noticed what happened, but Rowena couldn't help but feel a set of secret eyes watching her every move.

After about an hour of sightseeing, Rowena returned to the ship, the sailors preparing to leave. "Lass! Perfect timing! We're just about to set sail!" exclaimed Faulkner as she boarded the ship. Rowena nodded at him in thanks and went to her chambers under the deck to get out of the dress and back into the sailor clothes. Night had fallen and the crescent moon rose over the horizon as Rowena returned to the deck, joining Faulkner by the wheel. She leant over the railing to gaze at the moon, losing herself in the beauty. Faulkner noticed her silence and joined her there.

"Pretty thing, isn't it?" he asked, gesturing towards the glowing white sliver of cosmic wonder. She nodded in response, her pretty purple eyes sparkling in the glow. Faulkner thought for a moment how Rowena must be feeling with her family dead, everything she ever knew a crumble of ash. It wasn't really a wonder how angry she was, rejecting those who tried to gain her attentions. She was lonely. She needed someone who understood how she felt. Someone who could make her feel whole again, and the Aquila leader knew exactly who could help her do just that.

They docked the next afternoon in a place called the Davenport Homestead, where Faulkner said Rowena would be brought in under the care of his friend. Still dressed in her sailor's clothes, Rowena thanked Faulkner for his help and lugged two suitcases off of the ship, waiting for whomever Faulkner said would take her in. She set the two suitcases down and went over to a tall apple tree, the delicious red fruits perfectly ripe. Looking around, Rowena quickly tumbled up the tree, swinging on the branches and flipping and climbing until she could grab the best apple on the tree at the very top. She crouched in the branches for a while, eating the apple until she saw a carriage coming in the distance. She poised and kept waiting. The carriage pulled up to the little house a few yards from the boarding deck, and an older gentleman with a cane stepped off of the carriage, walking with an expected limp over to Faulkner, who stood from his chair.

"So, where is this young lady you've been talking about?" asked the old man, leaning on his cane. Faulkner noticed her suitcases and looked around, unaware that she had climbed the tree.

"Not quite sure, old chap. She was here a while ago…" Faulkner said, continuing to look around. "Young girls should not be left unattended," the crippled man remarked, hitting his cane into the ground. Rowena snarled quietly.

"Trust me, this girl's different. Scottish, bred and born in the toughest regions of this earth. She did more work on my ship than all of my men combined," Faulkner exclaimed, using big hand gestures. Rowena smirked, Faulkner usually didn't have bad things to say about people.

"Well, regardless of that, we are left short of a scheduled young woman who you asked me to take into my care!" yelled the old man, hobbling back towards his carriage. With a roll of her eyes, Rowena dived from the branch where she perched and landed in a graceful cat position on the ground. Faulkner and his friend were a little taken aback at her sudden appearance, but both seemed relieved to see as she straightened out and stood up, walking towards them.

"Ah, there you are," said the man, closing the distance between them, holding out his hand to the woman. Rowena went in to shake it, but was a little startled as the cripple brought her hand to his lips where he left a gentle kiss. Rowena kept her composure and allowed him to greet her traditionally as Faulkner joined them.

"Well Row, I guess I'd better see you off!" he said, clapping a big hand on her shoulder. Rowena smiled and embraced the old captain, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I will never forget your kindness, Robert. I am forever in your debt." She replied. "Nah, we're even. Your performance on my ship got us here, I'm happy that you're safe."

With the last few goodbyes, Rowena had her things loaded into the carriage, and she was off, the carriage pulling her towards her new home. The buxom redhead and the older gentleman sat in silence for a while as she leaned her head on her arms resting on the open window. Since this was more foresty land, it was starting to feel a little more like home. It seemed America was a little more brown in the landscape, whereas in Scotland, everything was green.

Eventually, her driver broke the silence, his countenance very fierce, yet contained. She wondered what he had done in his younger years. "When Faulkner wrote to me about you, I couldn't say no about taking you in. It is difficult, to lose one's family and home." said the driver compassionately.

"It's in the past now, and I must focus on my future now," replied the girl in her thick accent. "You are wise beyond your years, my girl. Tell me, what is your name?" he asked.

"Rowena Rose, sir. Might I ask yours?"

"My name… is Achilles."