A/N: Happy holidays everyone! This is just a quick Christmassy oneshot with Connor, the adorable man we love and adore! So that being said, I hope everyone has a good Christmas day, filled with Connor's gorgeous face.
*Cover image found on Tumblr and belongs to Hiropan056
It came to be that this winter was colder and crueler than the last. Snow drifts, at times taller than a man, littered the forest roads while ice hung from the branches of tall, snow covered pines. The winter air bit and stung the bare flesh of those daring enough to brave the weather outside. Wind howled through the tree tops, sounding flustered and angry as ever. As he rode his bay mount, Connor could easily notice the barrenness of the familiar forest. He did not expect to encounter people, that much he knew. He oft rode down the back roads and trails, avoiding the settlements that resided in the center of the Frontier. Normally during his winter rides, he'd at least see a hare or two bounding across his path. In summer, the woods were plentiful with game of all kinds. Winter only brought desolation and isolation and it was evidently seen.
Connor spurred his horse into a smooth canter as he caught glimpse of the path that would lead him home, down to the Davenport Homestead. He glanced over his shoulder at the wild turkey laying limp, tied to the back of the horse's saddle. Oliver had requested a turkey for a feast he and Corrine were preparing. Of course Oliver had given Connor the money to purchase one once the Assassin had made mention of his travels to Boston's port, but Connor found himself wondering why. He had seen the farmer's turkeys plenty of times during his city adventures. They didn't seem as fresh or natural as the ones he could track in the snow. He only just wrapped his head the concept of buying food rather than foraging for it. The boy in him still loved the hunt, and so he had set off into the woods. Turkeys were not common creatures in the Frontier, yet still could be find in specific little pockets. The hunt had been fun, despite the length. Three days and two nights Connor hunted, finding himself near frozen every morning he woke. The turkey had been a welcomed sight when it accidentally wandered into the clearing Connor had decided to set a snare, to see if he could snag a few rabbits. With one clean arrow through the breast, the bird had fallen prey. A bonus to the cold trip had been the two rabbits Connor had gathered from two previously set snares.
Slowing his horse to a brisk walk, Connor made his way down the path to The Mile's End, Corrine and Oliver's inn. He remembered clearly the day where he personally funded for the inn's construction. The money hadn't taken too long to find, and the citizens of the small homestead had been grateful. Now, after several years of its standing, the Mile's End was the hot spot of the community. It was the place where everyone met up to share stories and gossip of the week.
Dave gave a wave as Connor walked past. The Assassin returned it with a simple hand gesture, continuing onward. The inn came into his sight soon enough. Connor led his horse to the stable after he dismounted. Tying up the horse to a tether nearby, he unsheathed his knife and cut the bird away from the saddle. It was a fat bird. A fine piece of fowl, Connor admitted to himself. Carrying the bird towards the inn, Connor gave a quick look for Oliver. Clearly he was inside, as with everyone. The temperatures were dropping as dusk quickly shrouded the community. Connor pushed open the inn's white door, greeted by a gust of warm air. Quickly shutting the door behind him as he entered, Connor's eyes naturally scanned the building. The place seemed warm and cozy, especially with the fire burning in the red brick fireplace. The tables that would normally be scattered around were being organized by Terry and Godfrey into one single line. White cloth covered each one and a chair was placed around it. The two Scots barely noticed the new arrival. They were too busy preparing for the feast.
Connor's gaze located Oliver, standing behind his counter, watching the two loggers work. The Assassin cleared his throat, gaining the inn keep's attention.
"Goodness!" Oliver breathed when he saw the turkey Connor was holding, eyes widening "That is a monster bird!"
He came out from behind the counter, striding forward to where Connor was standing in the room.
"I dread to think of what it cost." He said, inspecting the bird as he went.
Connor reached into the largest pouch on his belt, producing a leather coin purse. "Nothing."
Oliver cackled, as if though Connor's statement was a joke. "Did you steal it?"
Connor's brows furrowed together. "No, I-" Realizing it was a jape and not a statement, he allowed his voice to trail off.
"If you did not purchase it from the market in Boston… that means you must have killed the beast in the forest!"
Oliver's quirky grin was filled with excitement as he regarded Connor. "Corrine!" He called out to his wife, who was out of sight. She emerged from the kitchen doorway, behind the counter. A mouthwatering aroma filled the air as she stepped into the main room. It was then when Connor noted his hunger.
"What is it, Ollie?"
The plump inn keep jabbed a finger towards Connor. "Look at what he's hunted, just for us!"
"My word!" She gasped, her petit hands covering her mouth. "Thank you, Connor. That'll feed us ten times over."
Connor could feel his ears reddening. He never liked being the center of attention amongst his friends.
"It was nothing, really." Before he could receive any more praise, Connor glanced around. "Where would you like the bird?"
"In the kitchen, dear. We ladies have some work cut out for us. Diana, look here!"
Connor carried the main course around the counter and into the kitchen, placing it on an empty table. Four women were slaving away in the kitchen, preparing the Christmas dinner. Diana and Catherine, Terry and Godfrey's wives respectfully and Prudence. Connor guessed she had supplied many of the carrots, turnips and sprouts he could see being boiled and chopped. The women gasped and praised the bird like the others had but soon went back to work. Connor took his leave.
Godfrey and Terry were bickering as normal. This time, it was on the arrangement of the chairs.
"We can easily fit two people at one table." Terry said, proving his point by pushing two chairs in at one table. Godfrey, clearly disagreeing, snatched away one chair.
"One gives more room, and we're gon' need it. Especially the way you dig your elbows in my side every year!"
It was a roar of accented growling after that. As they fought, Oliver turned to Connor.
"Will you join us for the dinner?" He asked, a small smile coming across his lips.
Connor racked his mind for a polite decline of invitation.
"I don't want to intrude." Connor placed his hands in front of him, relaxing some. The numbness that had formerly stiffened his fingers had melted away with help from the warmth of the near fire.
"Nonsense. You're the founder of this community. It's the least we can do. Christmas is a time of get together's and family, besides. If you would like to stay, by all means stay."
By now the Scots had finished their latest argument and now turned towards Oliver and Connor.
"We'd love to have ya! After all, you're the one who shot the prize winnin' turkey."
Godfrey nodded along with his brother, a sloppy grin covering his face. Connor himself contemplated the invitation.
"I suppose I could spare a few hours."
Terry whooped in victory, while placing two chairs at one table, sparking the argument all over again. The upper corner of the Assassin's lips tugged into a smile for a split second before letting his smile fade.
With that the door opened, admitting another familiar face. Ellen stepped into the inn, a fur shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. The fur was fine fox fur, a pelt that Connor had delivered her a few months ago during late summer. The tall white-clad man was about to extend his greetings to the seamstress, all until he noticed her features.
She was flustered and not from the cold. She breathed heavily and her cheeks were red of shade. Her round eyes were full of worry, while her brows creased together.
"What is wrong?" Connor asked, leaving Oliver. He stopped before her, arguing with himself whether or not he should give her comfort.
"Has anyone seen Maria?" She asked the entirety of the inn. Godfrey and Terry ceased to shout at one another and turned to the fretful looking woman.
"Weren't she playing with my boys?" Terry questioned.
"This morning. They were playing near the bridge, building snowmen. But I just checked there. Your son said she left."
By now, the women working in the kitchen had emerged. Prudence tried to offer council. "Perhaps she went back home?"
"I was just there!" Nobody could mistake the worrisome tone in Ellen's voice for anything but fear.
"She couldn't have gotten far. I saw her not a couple of hours ago." That was Catherine, Godfrey's wife.
"The sun is setting… what if she gets herself lost in the woods with those wolves… there are bears about you know! Oh, she's only a young girl!"
Connor intervened then, holding out a hand. "We will organize a search party and look for her. Like Catherine said, she couldn't have gotten far."
Ellen laced her hands together as if in a prayer. "Please, Lord, have mercy."
"Terry, Godfrey, with me. We'll search the roads on horseback and gather the others." The two Scots headed for the door to carry out Connor's orders. "Ellen, I want you to go back home in case she returns."
He told Oliver and the other women to stay here and if the girl was to return to keep her here. Once the orders had been dispatched, Connor went to go join Godfrey and Terry who had both claimed horses. Connor mounted his own. Wheeling the horse around, he gestured for the two loggers to follow him. They cantered up the road towards David's blacksmith post. The brute of a man straightened from the forge, his face blackened from the ashes and the coals.
"Dave!" Terry called out. Wiping his hands on his apron, the man came forward.
"What can I help you with?" He asked politely.
"Ellen's daughter Maria has not returned to her. Ellen fears she's lost." Connor said.
"Terry and I are going up north to search for her. You take this area with Godfrey."
A wave of understanding came over Dave. Godfrey trotted his horse into Dave's camp, leaving Connor and Terry to come back the way they came.
"Where are we looking first?" Terry asked the larger, younger man.
Connor's reply was short and simple, his deep commanding voice easy to hear over the
hoof beats. "Warren's farm."
However, upon arriving at the farm, Warren was preparing to leave the farmhouse to the inn. By now the sun had all but vanished, leaving a murky dusk about the Homestead.
"Good evening, Connor, Terry." Warren greeted in a friendly tone.
"Warren, have you seen Ellen's daughter, Maria?"
"Why? Is she missing?" The farmer replied, removing his hat to scratch at his head. Connor nodded once.
"Ellen has not seen her for quite some time."
"I will help in any way I can."
"Search around the inn with Lance and Lyle if you can find them."
Obediently, Warren headed off down the path. Mind racing for possibilities, Connor nudged his horse into a trot. At this point, Terry began to call Maria's name. They made their way up the road and soon veered off down a narrow path that lead to Myriam's own hunting camp.
"It's a cold one." Terry noted as he wrapped his thin jacket around his shoulders. Even Connor felt the child through his coat.
"Best we hurry."
They continued on down the path, Connor's keen eyes searching the ground whilst the Scot shouted for Maria. All of a sudden, Connor yanked his horse to a stop, leaving Terry's mount to stumble to an icy stop.
"What is it?" Terry asked, glancing into the dim woods about him. Connor leaned down over the side of his horse, eyes narrowing at the potential track in the ground. Wishing for some reliable light, the Assassin dismounted.
"A track." Connor murmured lowly. Placing his foot parallel to the one he found, he saw it to be much smaller than his own.
"How old is Maria?" Asked Connor as he glanced over his shoulder towards Terry. The logger scratched his beard.
"Thirteen, fourteen mayhaps. Why?"
"I think I've found her." Connor stood to his full height. "Go back to the others and spread word. I'll head out on my own on foot."
Without word Terry spun his horse around and cantered back down the narrow path, a bold move for a man who rode logs more often than horses. Continuing out on foot, Connor followed the evident tracks. They were far and few between, but with experience under his belt, the Assassin easily tracked the girl. She at first walked along the path he figured. He had saw foot prints in the snow, but with the path being travelled so often, it was difficult to tell. Only when Ellen's daughter had veered off of the path into the thick, untouched snow had the tracker been certain of his target. As Connor followed, he noticed that her stride had quickened from a walk into a run. Stepping up his own tread, he ventured deeper into the forest.
"Maria!" He called. The tracks appeared fresh, considering the light snowfall that had been dropping all day. The girl could still be in the area.
The tracks, already sparse, all but disappeared. Connor stared at the ground ahead and all around him, wondering what happened.
And then he heard it.
A faint mutter coming from a human voice.
"Hello?" Connor called in the blackening gloom. His voice echoed against the trees and into the silent night.
"Help me!" A tiny voice came, surprisingly from close by. Connor started east, before pausing. Another shout came. "Up here!"
Craning his neck, he could just spot a shadowed form.
"Maria?" He questioned, though he was not sure why.
"Help me! I'm stuck up here."
The girl was sitting high up in a pine tree, her tiny limbs wrapping around the tree's larger ones.
"What are you doing up there?" Connor demanded in a light tone.
"I got scared!"
"Of what?"
"The bear! I heard rustling in the bushes behind me, so I ran. Mother told me of the bears."
"Can you get down at all?"
Shaking her head, Connor stepped forward with a sigh. He easily scaled the tree and was soon sitting beside Maria on the limb.
"What were you doing in the forest?" He asked as he began to untangle the girl from the tree limbs. Her arms were cold and her skin pale. "How long were your out here for?"
"I got bored of playing by the bridge. I wanted to see what else there was out here. I've been here a while… the bear…"
Descending branch by branch, Connor led Maria downward.
"My mother will be furious." The girl muttered her confession.
"And rightfully so." Agreed Connor, keeping the girl in front of him as they walked the narrow path.
"Maybe she'll force me home. I'll miss the dinner."
"I thought this holiday of yours was for giving and caring for one another."
"I suppose it is in a way, but you haven't seen my mother angry." A smile flickered upon Connor's face. The horse was where it had been left, trying to graze through the thick snow. Placing the girl on top of the horse, he walked her out of the woods and back on the road. The sky was dark completely when Connor walked up the front porch of the Mile's End, where everyone was meeting according to Lance O'Donnell. The warmth of the inn was yet again appreciated by the Assassin, and the girl trailing him, trying to avoid her mother's anger.
"Maria!" Ellen dropped to her knees, arms thrown wide. Despite having fears about the irritation that Ellen felt, she was relieved to see her daughter unharmed. Maria ran to Ellen, engulfed in a hug moments later. After the brief reunion, Ellen walked to Connor, who had disappeared into the shadows himself.
"I cannot thank you enough… this is not the first time you have done my familiar a great favor. I cannot think as how I can repay you, but I will. I swear it."
Connor held up his hands. "Please, no. Anyone would have done the same as I have."
Ellen allowed a small smile. "Humble and modest as always. Please, sit and join us. I refuse to think you alone this night on that great hill of yours in that drafty house."
Deciding not to argue Ellen's hospitality, as well as the other resident's, he went to place himself at the table with the others. The men and women of the homestead sat two at a table, eying hungrily the food that had been placed. Even in times of peril and danger Prudence, Catherine, Diana and Corinne had continued with the preparation of the dinner.
"I say that we should have a toast." Called Terry, standing. He gathered the other homesteader's attention before raising a glass filled with red wine.
"To Connor, who we all have to thank for not only our lives here at the homestead but the peace and friendship we share."
Connor was thankful for his darker shade of skin as he felt the blood rush to his ears. He said nothing as the other men and women joined Terry in his toast. Eyes then drifted to Connor, waiting for words on his behalf. He pondered on what he would say.
"You have no need to thank me. I am only doing the right thing." Before anybody could force more words onto him, he added, "I say we should start the feast."
A hearty cheer came up from the mouths of the Scottish loggers. A prayer was led by Father Timothy who sat near. Once he finished, the food was served amongst the people of the Homestead. Connor sat silent as the others ate. He looked to the people he happily called friends and found himself thankful for each face. He could not imagine a pleasure filled life without them. He remembered what the Davenport Homestead once was; a mass of trees and mud. A small smile graced the lips of Connor Kenway then.
"Merry Christmas." He said to the friends at the table. Each one replied just as warmly,
"And a happy new year!"