Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed (including all the games though I have played them!)
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It was done. His father was died. He walked away too afraid of the words he might say to the dying man. Too afraid of that woman when she came to inspect his father.
From behind him, a scream echoed through Fort George and he just winced at the sound. His feet stopped and turned back watching the tall, frozen statue of a woman holding her weapon of choice in her shaking hands. Her elegant black hair swept to the side as all noble women held it. Her dark blue eyes were clouded with tears and her gown, ripped at the hems, was pulling lifted as she walked to Conner.
"You bastard," she screamed flashing the pistol at him. "You damn bastard child you!"
"I was no bastard, as you say," he calmly stated sensing her anger.
"You took my Haytham from us!" she cried out.
"I do not understand your meaning," he said back.
"From Elizabeth! From me!" Violently she shot out but missed. Conner was unsure if she meant to miss but easily dodged it.
"I hate you!" she screamed again as she pointed the pistol onto herself.
"WAIT!" yelled Conner, but he was moments late. Her body collapsed to the ground and, as he looked down, her eyes showed him everything that Haytham Kenway had meant to her. In a moment of truth, Conner realized who this Elizabeth might be.
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October 1794
"Perhaps, we shall see," she spoke in a shy manner to the man whom she would marry. The man, Edward Cinchy, was a wealthy plantation owner in the state of Kentucky, which became a state just two year prior. She loved Edward with all her heart but knew to guard her heart well. It would be foolish to blindly accept the offer and after much discussion, she agreed to reside with him and bare his children.
However Elizabeth Kenway knew many things, and if anyone ever asked, she would feverishly deny any such knowledge. As Edward left to purchase the linen needed for the Manor's curtains, she felt the odd sense of someone watching. Turning to see nothing at first, her eyes glanced up toward the roof of the church. There sat a man, much older than she, a well guard expression presented on his Indian face.
"I suppose one might wonder how we are relative if you should visit me, Conner," she smiled, after scaling the walls to meet him. Edward would know nothing about her particular skill of climbing or swinging from tree to tree. After all, she had the best teacher for it; her brother Ratonhnhaké:ton.
"You must be guarded. He only wants something he wants," he mumbled not looking at her.
"I would think my only brother would be happy to be rid of me after all these years," she smiled trying to ease the man's harden posture. "Edward will care for me. He will and he must. Besides I can fend for myself—"
"Only after much help," smirked Ratonhnhaké:ton, remembering her several attempts at independence when she was just a toddler. Elizabeth turned to him, a smirk playing on her lips.
"I suppose but Father would be proud at least," she said brushing the chimney soot off her dress. "I am marrying a man of power."
"Father would have loved him. Father is proud of us both." There was a sour mood about them, and Elizabeth just simply stood up and began her climb down. As she reached the ground, her brother jumped down in a moment's instant.
"What is it now, Conner," she asked again, tilting her head curiously.
"Here. This." He withdrew a small journal from his satchel and extended his muscular arm to her. "Your mother wrote this years ago."
"I don't understand," she said looking at the journal, reading the name Gaby Kenway on the inner cover. "My mother was a Kenway too?"
"Our father had a relation to my mother, but he was also drawn to yours. He spoke well of her, before I…" his voice stopped as he remembered that rainy sad day. The day her mother took her life.
"Before you killed Father for being a Templar," she muttered, trying to hold the tears in.
"Yes," Ratonhnhaké:ton said. "I want you to know as I have known."
Elizabeth eyed her brother and her tears failed her. "Ó:nen ki' wáhi, Elizabeth," he said brushing her tears away with his dirt covered hand. Before his hand draw back, as she knew it would, she stopped him.
"Ó:nen ki' wáhi Ratonhnhaké:ton," she spoke in Mohawk as he walked away, his Assassin's robes flapping behind him. She knew much of his native language and culture, as he had been the one to raise her since a child. She grew up knowing that he went by Conner formally around others. This would be the last time she would see him, which she knew for a long time would come eventually.
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December 1796
Edward was busy elsewhere on the plantation with the slaves, which left her to work on washing the clothing. After nearly two hours work, she called for a rest leaving the rest to Maria, her personal aide. She hated to reference to Maria as her slave despite Edward's preaching.
The snow was a lovely and certainly made it cold. It had been just over two years since she had seen Ratonhnhaké:ton. She thought she saw him in the trees once afternoon but it just a bird. She has long forgotten about being a simple wife, instead becoming a sort of leader among the women of their Lexington, Kentucky community. Her round belly would make the Cinchy family proud, their first child due any day now. Rubbing her stomach for thought, her eyes laid on the journal of her late mother. Edward knew of her parents, speaking rarely on the matter. Her fingers drew back the strings and the pages of her mother's life began to pour out.
September 1, 1781,
I found myself enjoying my life with Haytham. He has been all too kind to me these many years. He has convinced me to begin a journal of my own to express my thoughts and my convictions. I feel I must begin from the beginning as that only seems right. I was the daughter of Thomas and Mirabelle Wales, the Duke and Duchess of Walterberg. The only daughter that ever desecrated the family name due to my petty crime against the Haytham Kenway. I was just the spare either way and Father never saw me for my use and would and did sell me to Haytham to repay my debt.
My livelihood in the Kenway home was enjoyable. Haytham was always so secretive about his doings; always leaving suddenly and often returning in blood. Whose I haven't the faintest idea but I cared never to ask. I once saw a piece of paper laying about in regarding something about the Templars but I simply placed it back on his desk. I later received my first sexual encounter as I received my punishment for touching his belongings. I dare say that Haytham had a rough yet gentle touch. Somehow I know he cared for me. I will never forget him doing those things to me. I was only a child at the age of fifteen but I felt like a woman in his arms.
After that and my debt repaid, I was advised to begin reshaping my life in 1763. Father was none too pleased to see me again. He raped me, hit me, and attacked me for disrespecting our family. My sister had married a nobleman from London. It was nothing to me, honestly, but Haytham found out of the news and promptly came to rescuing me. It was then as he held my near dying body, I knew he cared. Tenderly he nursed me to heal and cared for me. I knew nothing about love then, but I knew I loved him.
September 2, 1781
Kindly he offered to escort me to the colony where he had bought a plot of land in Virginia. Haytham only seemed interested in reaching our destination. We did share a bed as we spent so long on that debasingly ship. Upon arrival I meet with several ladies whom would teach me all about being a wife for Haytham. They seemed often jealous of me but I paid little attention. Madam Regina tried to poison me once. She was later taken care of later, I learned in private conversation between Master George and Haytham. He had accused Haytham of killing her because he was protecting me, but there was no proof of such accusations. I found his hidden blade gauntlet and discovered he had indeed did do such act. Again he punished me in anger for discovering his secret, but this time I was able to convince him I would hold his Templar secrets so he didn't have to bottle everything up all the time.
September 7, 1781
I meet Charles Lee, a close friend of Haytham's, sometime after we landed. He was kind, enduring to my questions about life, and once tried to have his way with me. There was a certain disposition to Charles that was remarkable. He had ambition and, if I didn't know better, would've kill Haytham just to have me. Flattery worked most of the time, but he was always reproached for attempt things. Haytham tried very hard and proved the point I was unavailable to anyone. Charles received a beating one day about a year ago. It seemed he never learned the lesson the first time.
I learned from Haytham that a war might start with the colonists and the Regulars. He told me firmly to stay away in the home. I was nearly killed on March 5, 1770 by the Regulars opening fire on the colonists. Haytham and Charles found me afterward in the church hidden, scared out of my mind. I earned another punishment, unknown to Haytham, by Charles. From then on, Haytham kept me by his side as much as he could. I did wander off a bit to explore the area, but it was heavily frowned upon. That boy, whom Haytham called his son, fought against us, against our plans for a united front with Great Britain leading us. Foolish boy. Damn him, dropping the tea in the bay. That's what Charles told me he did. I would have killed him when I found out it was him. I was distraught by his actions. Pathetic savage. He will never beat Haytham. NEVER!
Those colonists have no clue as to what they would need to do if they became an independent country, yet they still began. The war began and Haytham used this to his advantage. And I was ever there present behind him.
September 12, 1781
On July 4, 1776, I bore a daughter to Haytham. Elizabeth, my dear child, was born on the day that this country became independent of Great Britain. I could tell by Haytham's tone he was all too pleased and annoyed at the same time. I blame that boy for stealing my Haytham from me. He spent too much time with him, even so as traveling to the Caribbean with him. I was livid about such news, but Elizabeth was just a child. 'fraid I will retire this evening early. Haytham wishes to speak to me about something with Charles. Something about the amulet.
September 15, 1781
That damn boy. Again he ruined our life. He and Haytham returned from killing Benjamin, an act I felt unserviceable. The man was simply a ruse and only had interest in women and boozes. Honestly, what had I any say? Haytham informed me that he was trying endless to convince his son to our side, but the boy was often stubborn. They, apparently after many lengthy arguments and seeing Washington, parted ways. Finally, rejoice be His name. I can have Haytham all to myself now. Elizabeth is much like Haytham. She never is very verbal but she lits up whenever she saw her father. I hope to leave this fort some day and see New York or Boston again. He keeps us locked up from that boy. Conner, his name is, but I don't care. I will never love him as my son. He is that woman's child.
I do wonder why Charles left all of sudden. Just the other day, he wished me passionate goodbye and kissed me as well. There was longing in his eyes, as if he knew something would happen. I wish I only knew why.
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"What's you have there?" a voice called to her. Edward stood there with a curious frown pointing at the book in Elizabeth's lap. Maria had long left to her personal quarters.
"Of my mother. Her life, I suppose. But it was cut short," she commented pushing her hair back.
"I recall the funeral well. You were just a child then. Your father was, shall we say, very intimidating," he smiled sitting beside the mother of his child.
"You knew my father?" she asked astonished. "Why haven't I heard this before Edward?"
"Your father had his ways of keeping private matters, well private. No one knew about his family, until his death. No knew he was married for that matter to Gabriella Wales. Her name carried much weight; still does in some parts of Boston. Several men would have loved to have her as their wife, and yet Kenway got her. Several want you, but you chose me."
Elizabeth smiled at her husband. "Yes, but I do wish I could have seen them growing up. They would be proud of me," she said glancing out the window. There was a shadow in the trees, a figure of a body she knew. Standing up, she went to grab her thick cloak and walked out to the balcony. Her eyes strained from the bright snow and her voice began to sing a Mohawk melody Ratonhnhaké:ton had taught her years before. There before her eyes was he moments later. He had grown into a man for sure, and yet was still the same Ratonhnhaké:ton she remembered.
"You promised you wouldn't visit," she cried seeing him jump forth on the balcony from the nearest tree.
"I could not, when I heard the news," he spoke clearly.
"Conner, you… oh you…." Elizabeth cried out as she ran out to hug him. His arms wrapped around her small pregnant frame and for once, he let emotion out. He was happy for his sister, he was happy that she was happy. Nothing matter except their happiness.
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