Author Notes: 9/01/14 I apologize for the inconvenient wait, it takes me much longer to post than the average writer on this site. Hopefully this update will make up for it.
Copyright: Ubisoft owns the AC universe and every thing therein. I own the characters that were never mentioned in the franchise and make no profit off this.
Summary: Ever since the Lenape tribe were forced off their land by the redcoats, Kitane could not find peace within herself until she had the head of the man responsible; Haytham Kenway. Connor K. / OC


"Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon and the truth." - Buddha

Vengeance Guides Us

III

A full day and night of traveling on foot at a grueling pace finally delivered Kitane high up, crowning the rocky, summit-hills overlooking the vast area of land that came upon view. She stood as if she was a statue, surveying with a scrutinizing gaze as far as her cerulean eyes could reach from her vantage point. Although the trail she followed led to an elevated part of the valley, she still could not see the shimmering blue waters that Connor had promised were present. She chewed on her pale-pink, bottom lip with anxiety. The ever-looming feeling of disappointment began rising in her chest but she pushed it down, determined on not returning back to the clan with bad news when they have endured so much already. This opportunity was their last hope of surviving through this year's winter, least the entire tribe - rather, what was left - would be completely disbanded and join other communities. Growing up under the gaze of a Chief for a father, the traits of leadership and concern for her people was passed through blood. As long as Kitane would call herself the daughter of the Mighty Chief Hassun, her will to fulfill the duties and responsibilities to the Wolf Clan would be larger than any obstacles.

Yet she was still human and very tired from trekking all day and night to reach this place that could be a potential home. Stepping to the cliff's edge, loose rocks tumbling off the mountain, Kitane glanced down the distance from where she was, to the bottom. It was a considerable drop but nothing she hadn't done before; this one being at least fifty feet.

'This will be fun,' she mused with a smile. Had any of the Elders, Kuruk or even her father seen what she'd do secretly, they would forbid her from ever leaving camp again and always keep a watchful eye on her, in fear for her health.

Spreading her arms wide, Kitane closed her eyes as she felt the cool spring breeze gently push her towards the edge – coaxing - as if the Great Mother was giving the blessing for her to continue. Kitane enjoyed the euphoria of freedom she experienced in that moment. Nothing else mattered than what she had to do next. Pushing off the ledge with the tips of her toes, the feeling of falling through the air with arms spread made her think of the great òpalanie (eagle) soaring through the skies. She could imagine she was flying while she was doing this. In these brief moments of her life she was free, just like the òpalanie. Tucking forward until her body was facing upwards, the wind whipped around her – then, suddenly, she landed with a soft crash in a large pile of tree leaves and pine needles that cushioned the fall. The feeling of flight made the blood pump in her veins with exuberance, fueling her energy and giving the stamina she needed to completed this quest for her people.

As Kitane pushed through tall brush, trekked over fall logs and trees causing small herds of deer to prance away at the clamor of a potential predator she spotted a warren of hares grazing on grass, scampering off as their sensitive ears detected her. These lands were as exactly as Connor had mentioned; the wildlife was teeming with activity. Such would give hunters ample amount of game to catch for trade and selling, perhaps she and her people should consider hunting outside waters more often.

It was mid-afternoon when the site of a small community came into her line of sight. It was as Kitane had anticipated: white settlers inhabited this community doing all manner of chores while roaming about the large houses and cottages dotting the area; just as every other colony she had came across while traveling. She spied warily from the bushes she was hiding in, nervous of coming into contact with strangers - especially those from across the seas. The last interaction with a white man had ended with redcoats invading her lands waging war. 'These white men are dangerous!' her father's words echoed in her mind, warning her not to tread any closer than she had already. Connor had failed to mention there was inhabitants already on this plot of land, would it be wise to further consider moving here? Could these settlers share with her people or would the past repeat itself? She could already foresee the disapproving votes the Elders would cast on this arrangement, notably Elder Askook. Kitane clicked her tongue in agitation at the thought of that old bag of bones.

Before she could further assess the situation the sound of small whimpers of animals nearby caught her attention. Keeping a watchful eye on the settlers, she followed the familiar cries until she found a hollow tree filled with the pups of a mwekane (mongrel/dog) crawling and mewling for their absent mother. The sight was precious as Kitane adored new life in the world, her second favorite pass time in her clan was playing with the children or caring for the babes of new mothers. When she was doing such things, she would catch her father with a hopeful glint in his deep brown eyes as he watched from afar. As any father, he yearned for grandchildren; looking to his only child to deliver his wish.

"Oh, shh, shh," Kitane cooed softly as she lifted the pup that was whining the most. The tiny boy with a thin coat of white fur barely filled both of her small palms, the runt of the pack. If the mother did not spend more care on this pup, he would surely die. "We can't let that happen, now can we?"

"Hey miss, what're you doing with my dogs?"

Kitane's attention towards the settlers had slackened due to coddling the pups causing a small boy to waltz fearlessly to the native he spotted in the treeline, without his parents knowledge.

Kitane took a few, cautious steps back. Cradling the mwekane runt to her chest instinctively. She was certain that in any culture – even in wildlife - where there was a small child was a ferocious, protective mother. "You should not be here," Kitane made her voice as strict as possible, hoping to shoo off the child without raising alarm.

"But miss, those are my puppies! Sally just birthed them a few days ago. She don't look too good, ma' and pa' say they'll need to take her to the doctor to get some rest soon. Do you want to see her?" The boy befuddled Kitane's mind. His apricot bowl-like hair with specks of freckles on his cheeks highlighted the radiant glow of his emerald eyes under the sunlight – reminding Kitane of the bright oak leaves of the forest. He was a foreigner, indeed, but she could tell he was innocent and unafraid of speaking to a stranger, a native at that; where others of his kind – old and young – were too frightened or hesitant to do. His small, milky hand reached up and snatched her elbow, "come miss, I'll introduce you to every one!"

'What? No!' Kitane's heart hammered in her chest as she shook her head in disagreement, trying to gently pull away from the boy tugging her forward. She did not want to hurt the boy, physically or emotionally but with every step closer his strong grip brought her to the white settlers, fear trickled into her limbs as her stomach knotted in sickness. Every step brought images of burning huts, slaughtered women, men and children – all by the hands of redcoats. "Little boy, I mustn't! The redcoats will kill me too!" Her panicked cerulean eyes searched all around for the aforementioned uniform, readying herself to run at a moment's notice.

"Redcoats? Naw, miss. Those bullies don't come into these lands.. pa'! Come meet my new friend! She wants to see Sally!"

At the mention of a new friend, the little boy's father – Kitane assumed – who had been previously working on chopping wood, looked to see what ruckus his son was causing today. The man who looked to be the spitting image of the little boy rushed over seeing who their little one was dragging into the community.

"Timothy Leonard, what did I tell you 'bout talking to strangers?" The heavy Scottish accent scolded as he pulled his son away from the native girl, "I'm sorry if he bothered you miss, my boy has a habit of gettin' too friendly with folks.. uh, do you understand English?"

Kitane smiled sheepishly as her nerves were frayed from being so close to the settlers, her eyes darting all around for any signs of hostility. "I do, sir. And I mean no harm to your people, I'll be leaving now."

"What, no!" Timothy cried out, tugging on her elbow with a strong force for his small frame to have, "you didn't get to see Sally! Don't go.. please."

Hearing the child plead for his new native friend to stay ached at Kitane's heart and at a quick glance around she was able to see not many children were in this community for the young boy to play with. He was lonely, she surmised.

His father began to apologize, "I'm terribly sorry miss, I'll take him home-"

"No!.. I'd.. I'd like to see Sally, with your permission. My name is Kitane, I am from the Lenni Lenape clan – the Wolf clan." Kitane could not believe her own words falling out of her mouth. Common sense flying in the wind, it seemed. She just could not bear to see a child unhappy and alone. Feeling that even she, was at one time in his shoes. Kitane stuck her hand out to the older man for a handshake, remembering it was how foreigners were comfortable greeting new people.

"The name's Terry, miss Kitane, pleasure to meet you. I have to say you're the second friendly native besides Connor my family has met," Terry gave Kitane's petite hand a brisk shake before releasing it, allowing her to coddle the pup with both hands once more.

Her attention immediately perked, "Connor? I spoke to him just a day ago, he's offered my people some land here. I've come to inspect it."

Terry tipped his large, black hat with a smile, "Miss Kitane, you won't find land that's better than this here with neighbors that are friendly, any where else - trust me. Connor has recruited every one you see here. He's a good man, that fellow."

Kitane glanced around once more at the settlers working. Indeed a small community but it seemed every one got along with each other. "Do you believe they will be welcoming to my people?" This was a matter that weighed on her mind.

"Don't see why not, were all good, hard-working folks here. Racism is not allowed in this community, Connor assured of that. I don't want my boy growing up thinking he's better than someone else just cause of his skin, ain't that right, Tim?"

"Yes, sir!" Timothy peeped up excitedly, "Ma' told me racism is for the closed-minded folks who are scared of what they don't know."

Kitane smiled in relief. Perhaps not all white settlers were terrible. "Would you know where I can go to speak with someone named Achilles Davenport?"

"Oh! Pa', I can show 'er!" Timothy spoke eagerly, hopping up and down, his green orbs begging insistingly.

Terry sighed, "Alright but don't give the old man too much trouble, ya' hear? And don't wander off too far! Be home by supper!"

Timothy's strength for his size was surprising to Kitane, he already began to tug her along the trail as soon as his father gave him permission, leaving his last few words to echo behind them but Kitane allowed him to continue. For if it wasn't for the boy's fearless mentality, she would have never had the courage to approach and speak to them first. Aside from the strength he had, Kitane also learned he had a rambling mouth that seemed to never stop working. He talked quickly and constantly of every thing that fluttered into his innocent mind, reminding her of the children in her clan. Kitane hugged the sleeping pup to her chest and smiled at how adorable it was, if the mother could not see to this one's well-being than she would.


"Mr. Davenport? Ms. Lewis?"

Kitane nearly turned the young boy away from his insistent knocking, suggesting no one was home at the moment when the door finally opened revealing a middle-aged, white woman wiping her hands on the apron that was tied around her pale, yellow kirtle dress. She had a salt and pepper bun tied precisely up with a few rebel strands strayed, to which she tucked diligently behind her ear.

She was shocked, to say the least, of the unfamiliar - female - native on the doorstep but quickly regained composure, "Timothy - what a surprise! What can I do for you and your friend here?" Kitane felt odd at how easily these settlers referred to her as a friend, she wondered if perhaps it was just their custom for friendliness.

"Miss Kitayne here wants to speak to Mr. Davenport, Connor sent 'er!"

Kitane pursed her lips at the young boy's butchering of her name. "Kitane, it is a pleasure to meet you ma'am. Is your mate available? Your husband?" She corrected her terminology seeing Ms. Lewis's confused expression.

"Oh goodness, no!" Ms. Lewis threw her hands up, laughing, "I'm not Mr. Davenport's wife, I'm just his maid. He's available deary, come inside - both of you! There's lunch and snacks ready." At the mention of snacks, Timothy rushed inside without requiring another word leaving his alien friend to stand shyly on the steps. "Come on, I don't bite! But I'd suggest keeping your hands away from Timmy when he's eating sugar cookies, he gets a little too excited."

Kitane cautiously entered the manor at the beckon of Ms. Lewis, looking around in grand splendor of the place. Previously, she had never been inside the large homes she spotted from a distance, always opting on avoiding the foreigners settlements for safety and simply trading with traveling merchants and hunters. Now that she was inside, she found herself enthralled with the craftsmanship.

"My, what a precious little dog you have there! What's his name?" Ms. Lewis coddling of the sleeping mwekane she was cradling returned her attention to what was in front of her.

Kitane chewed on her lower lip, "I have not given him one. There is a litter of them nearby without their mother, I fear for their lives if their mother does not return soon."

Ms. Lewis sighed in a sad manner, "Oh, no, Sally." She glanced towards the kitchen to assure that Timothy was not in hearing range, "She's fallen too ill after giving birth to the pups, his parents are going to have to.. put her down soon. And with no mother, I don't think the pups will make it."

Kitane surmised such would happen when Timothy mentioned his parents taking the mwekane mother to the doctor 'to rest'. An idea formed in her mind, remembering her own clan's pets they had roaming about while traveling. "My people keep mwekane as pets too, if Mr. Davenport approves of my people living on this land, perhaps one of the mothers will take in the pups as her own?"

Ms. Lewis quickly caught on to the young girl's native term, "OH.. oh, dear, that would be wonderful! Timmy would be so happy that his dog's babes didn't die. I'll even take them in til you return - and I hope you do. You're a beautiful, young lady and I'd be delighted to have your people as neighbors! Quite frankly, this community isn't lacking in diversity so every one will fit right in!"

"We are certainly not lacking in diversity," the sudden notice of another joining the conversation nearly made Kitane jump out of her skin causing the old man to laugh in between steps he took with his cane. "I apologize for surprising you, I still have the habit of sneaking up on people." The innuendo would go unnoticed to the two women present, had Connor been here he would have thrown his Mentor a surreptitious glance.

"I am Achilles Davenport, some think of me as the 'Lord' of these lands but feel free to just call me 'Old man' like most of them do. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss?"

Kitane respectfully bowed, an act saved for only those she deemed highly important, "I am Kitane, I speak on behalf of the Lenni Lenape tribe - the Wolf Clan. I've been sent by a man named Connor to request the permission for my tribe to live here in your lands."

The 'Old man', Mr. Davenport, scratched his chin thoughtfully before speaking, "If you wouldn't mind, would you care to speak this matter over some tea and lunch? Ms. Lewis makes a wonderful pot of Earl's Grey."

Having no wish to decline and offend her hosts, she nodded and handed the pup over to Ms. Lewis to follow Mr. Davenport to a room in the large house where a large, oak table with chairs was stationed. Kitane was fluent in conversing with the foreigners, for diplomatic reasons. She wasn't entirely educated in their every day customs causing her to stand awkwardly as Mr. Davenport took a seat at the table.

"Please, have a seat. I'm sure you're weary from travel." He beckoned out his hand to the chair across from him, to which Kitane happily obliged for her aching feet. The pair sat silently for a moment, taking in this brief opportunity to analyze one another at face value. Noting each others skin tone, attributes and silently wondering their background story. Finally, Mr. Davenport spoke, "I can tell simply by your skin you've had a hard life, no doubt."

Kitane smiled sadly, "And I, you, sir." She twiddled her thumbs nervously under the table. She shamelessly felt more at ease being around him for his skin color but was currently nervous of making a bad impression that would cause him to turn her people away. 'I cannot let that happen,' she told herself. She straightened her spin and sat with a more air of authority, as the daughter of a Chief should. "I am willing to negotiate terms and conditions for my people to live here. We are peaceful people and never brought harm to others without enough cause to make us react as so."

Mr. Davenport nodded his head in agreement, smiling as Ms. Lewis brought out a tea pot and two cups. "Ah, have you ever had Earl's Grey? Simply divine, if you ask me. Thank you, Ms. Lewis." He poured each tea cup and slid one across the table to Kitane who gratefully accepted with a nod of her head. Blowing gentle puffs of air on to her tea, she took brisk sips. "Water is always in such a hurry."

Kitane peeked up from beneath her long eye lashes, her cheeks pink in embarrassment. In her culture, a drink was to be consumed when served to show respect for the hospitality. That rule did not seem to transfer to this culture. "You know what my name means?" Not many outsiders did, nor cared to asked.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, 'Large River'?"

Kitane smiled politely, nodding, as he was very close. "Big River. I was named such for being born on the river my people made a living from.." her chest ached with the ghost of sorrow remembering the tale of her mother dying giving birth to her. Kitane's life forever being altered from the tragedy.

Mr. Davenport's acute senses noted the air of melancholy that clung to her after the mention of her birth but chose not to speak of the matter, as it wasn't his business to do so. "I'm educated a little in the native customs and words, due to training Connor these last few years. His real name is something like.. Raton-hmng-aké:ton?"

"Ratonhnhaké:ton? He is from the Mohawk clan, do they live here as well?" She took a few more sips of her tea, enjoying the citrus brew greatly.

"I'm afraid not, it's just him. He works on their behalf to protect them from.. people that would see them removed from their lands."

Kitane placed her cup of tea down a little harder than she intended but Mr. Davenport understood her feelings. "Those murderers forced my people off our land a year ago, it's nearly caused my clan to disband." Mr. Davenport watched as her eyes glower with a hidden, dark resolve similar to the demeanor Connor once had when he first arrived here.

"Some one has done wrong to your people, and you want revenge?" Kitane's eyes widened slightly in shock, was it that obvious? "Tell me, what is his name?"

Her face hardened as she bared her teeth while speaking with malice, "Haytham Kenway," making it visibly obvious of her apparent hate for the man. Mr. Davenport instantly fidgeted nervously in his seat for some unknown reason to Kitane but judging by his behavior she had to ask, "Do you know of him?"

"Ms. Lewis is taking awfully long, perhaps she needs assistance - excuse me."

Kitane nearly threw her chair back when she stood up quickly and stood in Mr. Davenport's path to the kitchen, "Tell me what you know! I've been hunting for that vile snake for a year now! Every time I came close the trail would go cold."

"Miss Kitane, this is highly unladylike! And you should not go chasing after fire - don't you know you'll get burned?"

"I want to feel his guts squishing through my fingers, for what he's done to my people!" Kitane seethed in unbridled rage. So close. Another potential lead was sending her steps closer to her goal, even if it would kill her in the end.

Ms. Lewis and Timothy rushed into the dinning room, covered in flour from their baking activities but Mr. Davenport quickly shooed them out, assuring them all was fine. "Kitane, listen to me. You have no idea of the danger you're putting yourself in by going after that man, please cease! He is being taken care of."

Kitane growled in annoyance, Mr. Davenport sounded exactly like Kuruk and her father. "What do you mean he's being taken care of? Who else wants him dead?"

Mr. Davenport sighed in an exasperated manner, "Ms. Lewis, Kitane and I will return shortly." Ms. Lewis peeked her head out of the kitchen to confirm she heard her employer's words before disappearing back into the kitchen. "Follow me," he spoke to the female native, leading her to his private studies on the main floor of the manor. His cherry wood cane tapping in the silence as he made his way over to one of the candle light fixtures, tugging the contraption down to reveal it was a mechanism that opened a hidden door behind the bookcase. "This way, if you will. You will see the truth, as I feel I cannot hide it from you either."

Down the narrow, wooden steps Mr. Davenport disappeared. Kitane steered her will to follow behind in a respectable distance. She took each step hesitantly, finding herself in a secret basement of the manor illuminated by many candles around the spacious room. A rack of an array of fine, steel weapons stood across the room next to a large circle of what looked to be a sparing ring for training with a wooden mannequin in the center. Yet what captured her attention were large portraits of white men hanging on the wall in the center of the room. Some had large, red 'X' across their faces, others did not.

"Him! That is him.. I remember his face.." Kitane pointed, as she approached, to the portrait at the very top of a white male in a blue, British Colonial outfit. His face held similar strong features she remembered seeing recently but dismissed the thought as Mr. Davenport spoke.

"Yes, that is the ring leader of it all - Haytham Kenway.. A dangerous, skilled man in both combat and intelligence. I mean no offense but I cannot see a young girl such as yourself being his equal match." Kitane retrieved a throwing dagger from her belt and threw it at the mannequin, landing it directly at its wooden heart with a loud 'thok'. "Splendid, you can kill a wooden target." The female native pursed her lips at his sarcastic comment. "These men you see here are all linked to Haytham, to go after him they need to be taken care of first - least you have no hope of succeeding with your life intake."

Kitane weighed his words in her mind, it seemed her goal was not as easy as she previously thought of simply finding the man and killing him. This disappointed her greatly. "What will I need to do?"

Mr. Davenport sighed heavily, shaking his head, "It is not something for you to do, Miss Kitane. Some one has already claimed that."

The female native growled deeply under her breath but steered her tongue from speaking the profanities she had learned in her English studies. "Since you have turned me away from something I desire, will you turn my people away from living here as well?"

"Not at all, I see many merits from all of us coexisting here - there's plenty of space."

Kitane nodded, sated in some ways, at least she did not have to worry about her people's well-being knowing they would live here in a good community. "I was told by Connor there was a body of water here, my people are experts in fishing."

Mr. Davenport lead them out of the secret basement back to his private studies, "That is most excellent. We have a local hunter - huntress, pardon me - a miner, lumber workers, tailors, doctor, farmers and priest in our growing community. Fishermen would be a fine addition, natives at that. I think it'll make Connor feel a little more at home when he's here." He plopped himself down in his chair with an old huff, placing his cane to lean aside the wooden desk as he shuffled through stacks of paper; searching for some important document. "Ah, here it is. I knew it would come in handy sooner or later. This is a treaty I drew up when I first purchased these lands, in case any natives decided to move here as well. As you'll see, it'll state any land given to your people will belong to you as long as we all peacefully coexist. If there are any problems all matters will be spoken to the land owners civilly to reach a diplomatic solution."

Kitane carefully read over the document handed to her, finding no hidden deception in its words that could be used against her tribe. "As for trading, we will send to your community first before others, correct?" Mr. Davenport nodded affirmatively. "This.. this would work nicely, sir.. Thank you, and I apologize for my previous rude behavior.."

Mr. Davenport held his hand up, "No need, Miss Kitane.. I had dealt with a harder character before - still do, if you ask me. He's just been busy running around the frontier as of late."

The hooded man came to mind. "Connor, you mean?" Mr. Davenport smiled in his small chuckle. "When will he return?"

"Oh, he comes and goes as he pleases but he sticks around when I need him to do some chores. Speaking of which, will you be staying for supper? I'll have to send notice to Ms. Lewis so she can prepare a third plate."

Kitane blushed in an abashed manner, "No, sir, that isn't necessary. I should be heading back to my people to share the good news."

"Nonsense, stay the night. I'm sure you can use the rest, tomorrow is a new day." Mr. Davenport left no room for refuting, "Sign the document and I'll show you to your room for the evening." Kitane curtly nodded as she picked up the fine, eagle quill and dipped it into the nearby ink pot. Signing her name and the tribe's title on the dotted line at the bottom, she pouted at the rather sloppy handwriting comparing it to the elegant penmanship of Mr. Davenport's before handing it over. "Excellent, right this way." As they passed the parlor, he called out, "Ms. Lewis, our guest will be staying the night in the guest room upstairs. Will you draw her a bath as I get her settled in?"

Ms. Lewis peeked her head out the kitchen once more, an unknown ingredient smeared on her wrinkled cheek. She smiled, "Of course! I'm happy you'll be staying with us deary, I'll be up in a moment."

Kitane would have refused the extra hospitality but a nice soak did tickle her fancy. As she followed Mr. Davenport up the stairs, she asked, "Does Connor live here as well?"

"He does, his room is right down the hall from yours but he's a quiet lad and won't disturb you if he happens to come in at night. And here you are, it's yours for the night so please do make yourself at home." Kitane muttered a soft 'thanks' as she entered the quaint guest room. Every thing was clean and tidy with extra blanket on the large bed, as if she had already been expected to visit. "Ms. Lewis will come and fetch you when the bath is ready, as well as supper."

Kitane stood awkwardly in the center of the room as Mr. Davenport shut the door and left her alone to her own devices. She was relieved, to say the least, now that her tribe had a new home to move into; one that redcoats were forbidden on entering; a good, open-minded community; and rivers! She knew her people would be overjoyed at that detail. Sitting on the bed, Kitane nearly moaned aloud in bliss as she sank into it, instantly throwing herself on to it. If she could sleep on the clouds in the sky, it would feel like this. "This is heaven," she muttered to herself as her eyes drifted shut, exhaustion creeping up on her. Before she knew it, blackness enveloped her eyes and she was fast asleep before Ms. Lewis had entered.

Kitane had not even stirred as Ms. Lewis smiled, gently removing her buck-skin moccasins and settling her more comfortably in the bed before returning to Mr. Davenport to inform him their guest was fast asleep.


As the inky blackness disappeared from her vision, Kitane rubbed the sleep from her eyes and strained her vision to see more clearly in the dark. It was nighttime and she had missed the entirety of the evening with her hosts. She cursed in her native language and hopped up from the bed, swaying without balance as her body pleaded to return to the clouds it was on. Where were her shoes? She did not remember taking them off earlier. Tip toeing out of the guest room, barefoot, she followed the only source of light and sound in the otherwise dark and quiet home. It came from down the hallway, in the direction Mr. Davenport had mentioned where Connor would stay but was it him? The thrill of secretly spying was a guilty pleasure of Kitane since she was a child, and a habit that never died as she grew up.

The door was slightly ajar, to her delight, allowing her to peer and see whom was up at this late hour. The bare-chested, athletic body made her nearly audibly gasp out loud, had she not quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. It was Connor! Although she shouldn't, Kitane watched with more interest as he ambled around the room - shirtless - doing all sorts of menial tasks; such as sharpening his swords, tomahawk and dagger.. completely shirtless.. Kitane had grew up around half-naked men all her life but ever since she was implored to learn the English studies on behalf of her people, she also learned it was improper for man and woman to see each other 'indecent' if they were not man and wife. Spying on Connor as he was like this sent sinful, little thrills down Kitane spine to her toes making them curl against the cold, hardwood floor. He was certainly attractive, especially in less clothing than he usually wore. Without his shirt and uniform coat hiding most of his physique, she could silently admire the taut muscles moving and flexing as he sharpened his knife.

'Why am I doing this?!' the rational portion of her mind screamed. As Connor placed his completed dagger down on the end table and began releasing the ties that held his pants up, the smutty voice of her curious mind spoke, 'Why not?'

Kitane moved a step forward causing a loose floorboard in front of the door to squeak painfully loud, gaining the fierce stare of Connor to look up from his task. 'Oh shit,' she cursed in English. She turned and quickly ran down the hall on the tips of her toes to not cause any sound to emit from her escape and ran back into her guest room and shut the door behind her. She dove into the cloud-like bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders and pretended to sleep, hoping she did not get caught. She listened sharply as Connor's footsteps walked by her door, stopped.. moments crept by.. then he turned and continued walking back down the hall.

Kitane released the breath of air she held, relieved he did not open the door. She ignored the foreign, squirming feeling in her lower stomach and settled in the bed to sleep. She had enough excitement for tonight.


Author Notes: tehe ;)

I've received reviews and messages on where I get my information on names, culture, language I've used in the story. Since the site is not link friendly, please message me for any links you may want.
As I've stated before in the previous chapter the language and dialect I use is in ownership of James Cameron for Avatar.
Information of the Lenni Lenape tribe can be found on any of their official websites about their culture, customs, fashion and language.
The image of Kitane in the story cover I use is not my own and can be found via Google, Deviantart or any other kind of image site.

I want to give a special thanks to Kagome for helping me put this story together; the nickname for my little sister.
The story of Kitane, name, and background is hers. I simply just created every thing else for the love of AC III.
Thank you for the growing support for this story and my writing. If there are any beta readers who are interested in partaking in making this story better, please message me! I would be ecstatic on polishing this story for every one to enjoy more.