Notes: Werewolf romance!AU set within The Tyranny of King Washington. So yes, this is an AU of an AU...
Obviously, there will be spoilers for those who have not finished all 3 episodes of The Tyranny of King Washington.
If you are looking for the fan fiction, "Alpha Wolf", I renamed it to "Behind the Moon's Eye." So yeah, it's still the same story although I changed a lot of things. Mainly, this originally was a Connor/reader fic but was changed to a Connor/OC one based on the feedback I got from my readers.
Anyway, this monster of a fan fic was born out of my disappointment on Connor's character development in TOKW and lack of a love interest for him, along with my drive to create a better love story than Twilight (and lemon scenes than its devil child, 50 Shades of Grey). Because I am highly disappointed that Jacob Black seems to be the only sexy Native American wolf boy out there, we definitely need more than just him. So this skin-walker/werewolf!Connor creation of mine will be my gift to the AC fandom.
If you like what I have revamped, please let me know by critiquing my work. I highly appreciate all the reviews I get as I always strive to make myself a better writer. Thank you for reading this; I hope you all enjoy it!
Spring, 1784: Appalachian frontier
Rays of sunlight seeped through the maiden's half-curtained window, arousing her from her slumber. Eyes fluttering, she stretched and yawned, easing away the last bits of repose.
"Good morning, Iliana," a voice called out.
The maiden turned her head to the source of the sound, realizing that it was a familiar face that greeted her by the doorway. She went by the name of 'Corrine'—a nice old lady that was the owner and caretaker of 'Mile's End', the bed-and-breakfast place Iliana now worked and resided in. Corrine smiled sweetly at her, stepping through the threshold and making her way across the room until she reached the windows and pulled open the curtains nearest to Iliana's bed. "Nice weather today," she commented, peering through the glass panes and gazing at the majestic Appalachian mountain range. "Quite better than the dreadful snow storm we had a few weeks ago!"
Iliana returned Corrine's cheerful mien as she rose from her bed and headed to her dresser. "Well, it is the first week of spring after all," she remarked, taking out a blouse and matching skirt from her dresser.
"Indeed, which is why I think that it's time we do a little spring cleaning around this place," Corrine proposed, moving over to the other window and opening the curtains that hung from it. "We shall get it done before we open for business."
"As you wish, Corrine," Iliana acknowledged, gathering the garments in her hand and walking to the opposite end of her room where an ornate privacy screen occupied the space. She went behind it and began changing into her work clothes.
"I can have you get started by sweeping the floors. However—" Frowning, Corinne spun around and stared at where the young woman's body should have been had it not been obstructed by the modesty panels. She twisted her fingers, unsure of how to tell Iliana the whole truth to her statement. "We…have received an unexpected customer before we even opened shop."
Iliana stopped short of putting her blouse on, eyebrows raised. "Oh? Who is it? Did this visitor cause you and Ollie any trouble?" she asked, intrigued yet worried at the same time.
"No, no. He didn't. But…he seemed to be in great distress when he came barging through the entrance—he was severely injured when we found him," Corrine testified, halting the twisting of her fingers and sighing out loud.
"Oh dear, how awful!" Iliana exclaimed. Placing the blouse over her head and smoothing its creases, she continued, "I hope he is alright."
"He is—in fact, Ollie and I tended to his wounds the moment we saw him burst through the doors and collapse onto the floor." Shaking her head, Corrine made a 'tsk tsk' sound and said, "Poor thing must have been through a rough time, trying to escape those dastardly Bluecoats!"
As Iliana threw her nightgown onto a pile of dirty clothes and finished changing into the last pieces of her work attire, she stepped aside from the privacy panels and joined the old maid at the window. "So he is still here? Will he be staying with us, then?" she inquired.
"From the state of his health, it appears to be that he will," Corrine responded solemnly. "God bless that poor soul—he was howling all night as well—must have had a bad dream."
Knitting her brows, Iliana asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Well, he is downstairs right now, waiting for breakfast to be served. So you can get the day started by making him some," Corrine suggested.
"Alright then. Will do, ma'am!" Iliana replied, smiling and curtseying before exiting the room.
Corrine followed after the young lady as she made her way across the corridors and down the stairs. Once she reached the ground floor, she scanned the area to see where the aforementioned guest was located. "He is not here, Corrine," she stated, slightly confused.
"Oh—well that's because he's waiting for you at the tavern! So come, my dear—" the elderly woman grabbed Iliana's hand and lead her through an entrance that connected the inn to the tavern.
Once they had entered the pub, Corrine pointed to the man she had been telling Iliana about. Following the direction of her aimed finger, Iliana gasped at what beheld your eyes.
Sitting at one of the empty tables was a scruffy-looking fellow dressed in some of the most bizarre fashion she'd ever seen. He appeared to be quite savage, what with the wolf hide perched atop his head and spilling over his shoulders. His torso was bare, indecent for a gentleman yet the war paint and other ornaments that embellished it were enough to keep him modest. In fact, it was enough to make her blush, to the point where she was uncertain of how to feel about this new guest. She placed a hand to the side of her mouth, glancing at Corinne and whispering, "He's not a brujo now, is he?"
"I don't think so," Corrine mumbled, wide-eyed. "Why, he has been nothing but kind to us."
Iliana signed, feeling nervous but nodded in acknowledgement. Walking in apprehension to where the guest took his seat, she sat across from him and reluctantly brought her gaze to meet his.
"Shé:kon", he greeted, smiling at her.
"W-what does that mean?" Iliana asked stupidly, hands trembling; she placed them under her thighs and squished them as much as she could so as to calm her nerves. Although Corinne told her that this man would do no harm, she still didn't trust him completely.
"It means 'hello' in my language," he answered, curious amber eyes studying the lady's features. He observed the way her long raven locks spilled over her shoulders and complemented her olive skin. It framed her blushing face in a way that made her chocolate eyes stand out, and he almost held his breath at what beheld him. He had this feeling that he had seen such beauty before, and the way she was looking at him made his heart flutter.
"Oh—w-well, good day to you too, sir," Iliana said demurely, eyelids batting and lips twitching into a soft smile. "What's your name?"
"Ratonhnhaké:ton," he articulated, the pronunciation of it making Iliana's head spin a little. He gave her an all-knowing look, as if he knew what she was about to say next, and it made her suspicious for a bit. Regardless, he shrugged and asked, "What about you? What is your name?"
"Iliana", she stated, and then attempted to recite his. She tripped on the vowels, her tongue getting twisted and making her embarrassed.
Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head. "You will learn in time," he said, smiling a little.
Iliana couldn't help but return his amiable expression. Well, he seems nice enough. Perhaps Corrine was right. He seems to not want to cause any trouble… she thought. She then prompted, "So, what would you like to have for breakfast? I can cook up anything you desire—eggs, meat pies, rabbit stew…"
"I will have whatever you prefer," he replied, shrugging. "I am not too picky when it to comes to food."
"Alright then, well I guess we can start with the full English breakfast," Iliana noted, beaming. Rising from her seat, she turned around and noticed that the old woman was no longer present. She shrugged it off, assuming that Corinne must've left whilst she did her business with the new guest. I guess it's just me and him now, she mused, feeling awkward about the growing silence in the room. She still had a couple of hours left to tend to this bloke before Mile's End officially opened for business, so she went about to cooking him breakfast in no time.
The maid returned several minutes later with a tray full of food in one hand and drinks in the other. Carefully placing them onto the table, she handed Ratonhnhaké:ton his meal whereas she took hers and settled down opposite of him once again. Just as she was about to pick up her utensils and eat, she saw the man stare at his food, slightly dumbfounded.
"Ever had a full breakfast before?" she probed, face quizzical.
"Only a few times," Ratonhnhaké:ton answered, picking up his utensils and playing with his food a little. "This place…the people, the food, the surroundings, everything…it just all seems too familiar."
"Oh really?" Iliana questioned, her interest peaking. "You have passed by here before?"
Ratonhnhaké:ton was unsure of how to answer, as he did not know himself about the certainty of his statement. "I have, yet at the same time, I have not—this place and all the other houses nearby, they do not appear the way I remember them to."
"Hmm, you must be suffering from amnesia," Iliana remarked, frowning. Corrine was right; he is such a poor thing…
"Perhaps," he murmured, features devoid of emotion. Inhaling the scent of the food and digging in for once, he changed the subject and commented, "This smells and tastes really good."
Beaming, Iliana replied, "Why thank you—I'm glad you like my cooking."
Ratonhnhaké:ton returned her flattered look for a moment before piercing another sausage piece with his fork and taking it to his mouth. He took time to savor the flavor, the smoky taste reminding him of a bygone life in a secluded homestead. Gulping the last of his meat chunks, he uttered, "My father—he is English."
"Really now? So I take it that you've had a taste of English breakfast before thanks to him?" Iliana asked as she quirked an eyebrow. Chuckling, she continued, "Was he a good chef? Or did your mother have to do all the cooking?"
Putting his fork down, Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at an interesting spot on the floor, expression downcast. "I…never really knew him. Or at least I thought I did," he mumbled, voice barely audible that Iliana had to strain her ears to hear him. "There were many things I assumed about him that turned out to be wrong, and—" he sighed, having a seemingly difficult time carrying on with his words.
"Oh—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"That is alright, you did not know."
Iliana frowned; she did not expect her meeting with this chap to turn in a bad direction. She didn't know what to say in order to change the subject to a lighter one. So instead, she simply sat there in awkward silence and continued eating her food, trying her best to avoid eye contact by keeping her eyes on her plate.
"I still have so many questions to ask him, but most of all…goodbye," he murmured, still not shifting his attention to the lady. "I know he cannot hear me anymore. He is gone now but…there have been times when I was alone, when I wished that he could hear me, when I wished I could tell him the words I should have said."
An audible clink noise can be heard as Iliana dropped her utensils onto the table, mouth agape. She was shocked with everything she was hearing—this man, a stranger nonetheless—was disclosing to her some of the most personal information he had to offer! And she only just met him! "I…do not know what to say," she nearly whispered, visage changing into tenderness. "I am really sorry to hear all of this…but…I thank you for sharing this part of you to me."
"You have heard my story before," Ratonhnhaké:ton noted matter-of-factly, finally turning to look—gaze at Iliana with piercing eyes.
"W-what?" she blurted, befuddled at his statement and feeling uneasy at the same time thanks to his glare.
"I knew who you were before you even told me who you were," he stated, eyes narrowing. "When you told me your name, I knew that I have at last found someone I can confide myself to—I just had to make sure at first it was really you."
Iliana gave him a questioning stare. "Are…are you sure we have not met before?"
"It is not I who has amnesia, but you," he proclaimed.
"Y-you're mad! I've never had a head injury before or any other trauma to cause memory loss! You do!" she spat childishly.
Shaking his head, Ratonhnhaké:ton spoke, "No, I can assure you that we have known each other before. I can prove it and will explain it all to you when the time is right."
The nerve of this man! Iliana thought; she just met him and already he was making her frustrated and confused. Huffing, she grumpily went back to chewing her food, deliberately ignoring him.
"I know you may be angry with me right now about this, but I wanted to see if you remember."
"Well, I don't and that's the worst way to remind someone of something they don't ever recall knowing about."
Releasing a strained breath, Ratonhnhaké:ton affirmed, "I keep my promises, and you will come to know everything someday."
Side-glancing, Iliana fully turned her attention to him. She squinted and sarcastically voiced, "Fine then, I shall take your word for it—suppose I really did know beforehand about the situation between you and your father—what's the purpose of you telling me all of this? Is it important? Some sort of 'foreshadowing' information that I should keep for later?
"You could say that," the bloke responded, smirking.
Huffing, Iliana ignored him once more as she absentmindedly bit on her sausage, preoccupied with mentally sorting out what just happened.
Ratonhnhaké:ton saw how Iliana was unwittingly licking and chewing her food in a sensual manner, and it instantly made him feel as though he was on fire. Without warning, repressed memories from a past life came flooding into his mind—lewd vignettes of his time with the maiden flashed in front of his eyes, clouding his rationality. They were crystal clear and even rang loud in his ears, as if he were currently living out these memories. He could hear his moaning mixing in with hers, could even feel the sensation of her tongue gliding up and down his shaft—
"Hey, are you alright?"
The Mohawk man blinked several times, breaking out of his trance. "H-huh?" he breathed, clutching his chest.
"You—you looked like you were about to have a heart attack," Iliana stated, worry tainting her speech.
Shaking his head, Ratonhnhaké:ton hastily answered , "No, I am fine." He stared at the woman, noticing that she already finished everything off her plate while he was stuck in his trance. He gazed down at his own plate, embarrassed that it was barely touched. Suddenly, he did not feel so hungry anymore. "Sorry, as much as I appreciate you cooking for me, I seemed to have lost my appetite."
Iliana gave him a look of disapproval, unhappy with how he had been acting so far. "Don't waste food! You should have told me so that you weren't all that hungry so I could make smaller portions. I mean, do you know how expensive it is these days to get something decent around here! ? We have to ration our portions, especially now that wretched 'King' Washington took over this land!"
"I can take my platter and feed the left-overs to the animals so that it does not get wasted," the Mohawk man suggested, standing up in a hurry and taking his remainders with him. "I—I should go," he muttered, giving Iliana a quick nod, eyes meeting hers only for a split second before he dashed to the exit.
"Where do you think you're going?" Iliana voiced in a commanding tone as she headed over to Ratonhnhaké:ton's location and placed her hands on her hips.
"Uh," the bloke uttered, reluctantly spinning around to face her. "Going to feed my left-overs to the animals first. Then after that, just have some time to myself to…think about some things."
Iliana glared at Ratonhnhaké:ton, refusing to speak. The silence between them grew stronger as seconds passed by, making the chap feel uneasy. Finally, Iliana broke it by saying, "When you have the time, you should meet with me at the meadows."
"What for?" he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.
"I want to get to know you more—but on a more personal level this time. No awkwardness between us, alright? Besides, if you come, I will be preparing a picnic for you," she offered, simpering.
Ratonhnhaké:ton shrugged; he figured that it wouldn't hurt to join her once more—especially if the tension diminished by then. Thus, he responded, "Alright, I shall meet with you for your luncheon—thank you for the food, by the way."
"The pleasure is all mine," Iliana said, the smile on her face widening as she placed a hand over her heart.
Ratonhnhaké:ton simply nodded. Twirling around, he opened the door, exiting the area without a second glance at Iliana.
She stood there by the doorway, observing the man's figure retreat as he scurried a block over to where some farm animals were located. He fed his remains to the pigs, appearing irritated when one of them unexpectedly escaped the pen. He didn't notice that it was unlocked and had to chase the escaping swine. He herded it back in with frustration, shouting some expletives in his native language and growling, "Get back in there!" Ultimately, he was able to herd the stray pig back to its pen.
Iliana couldn't help but giggle at his actions—such an odd man, she mused, eyeing him. Yet so amusing…
Ratonhnhaké:ton locked the pen, making sure that no swine was to escape again. He exhaled a breath of relief then whirled around, only to be met by the lady's intrigued countenance. "What! ?" he sneered, visage turning even more infuriated by the minute.
"Nothing," she bellowed innocently, although she knew that he caught her regardless and was huffing about it. Shrugging, she declared, "Anyway, I must tend to my duties now—see you later!" She waved pleasantly and flashed him another one of her sweet smiles before shutting the door tight. She snickered behind his back, not even sorry about it.
As the last of her laughter died down, she sighed then began to mull over today's happenings: what began as an apprehensive meeting transformed into one of enjoyment, although it left her with some nagging questions as well. Ratonhnhaké:ton may be an alright fellow, but there were so many things about him that she was doubtful of. For example, how did he know who she was before she even met him? Perhaps he was not lying at all about being familiar with who she was. She wanted to know where this stranger came from and why he was here. Furthermore, she wanted to know how he found the refugee village she now resided in and how long he would be staying at her workplace. She just had so many questions to answer, so many mysteries to uncover—she'd make sure of it that she would cross-examine the man for each and every one of them.
Smirking, Iliana walked away from the door, making her way across the opposite end of the tavern and entering the inn once more. The smirk on her lips contorted to a grin; although she was still a little uncertain about everything, she was looking forward to having her picnic with Ratonhnhaké:ton.
Brujo: 'Witch' (masculine) or 'warlock' in Spanish