Richard grew angry. His unrequited love drove him insane. He would never have her love or her body and while he wouldn't force himself on either of those, he found other ways to release his anger.
The slightest thing she did wrong; late dinner, uncleaned clothes, it was deserving of a strike. Anne could barely bring herself to give him a small kiss before he left for work but now, she had no choice. If she dared refuse, or even hesitated, his hand would come across her face like a tonne of bricks. Soon, her face was decorated with bruises, scars and still bleeding wounds. Then, the beatings continued. Her arms, legs, back were all subject to the harsh strikes of her husband. Despite her cries, no one came for her. She was alone.
Lexington, February 1760
Anne stopped singing after a while. In Richard's home she felt like a trapped animal, a caged bird unable to spread its wings. She would sit by the window when he was away and just stare into the tree outside, longing to be out there, running, hunting, with the young man she was forced to leave behind.
Her side was tender and she winced as she shifted in her seat, a result of being slapped so hard that she fell into the counter, slamming the edge against her ribs. Richard treated her like property and she understood that that was exactly what she was. As he had never taken her, she was by all intensive purposes, unmarried. As the marriage hadn't been consummated, there was still the possibility of her leaving him and remarrying to consummate that marriage with another man. Wary of this and knowing she didn't have one ounce of love towards him, Richard didn't let her leave. She was a prisoner.
But, she was her mother's daughter and the wilful daughter of an Assassin who would not be a captive in her own home.
She rose from her seat, pushing the pain in her side into the back of her mind. Stored away in a cupboard was her coat, scarf and boots so she pulled them on, conscious of the time. If she was to go out, she would have to be back before sunset to make Richard's dinner. She didn't dare think about what would happen if she was late, or if she was caught sneaking out.
Anne opened the door and inhaled as the sharp cold air greeted her. It seemed to refresh her, giving her back some of the life she had felt dwindle away while she was cooped up in the house. The first few steps were tender ones, she knew she would be in trouble if she was caught, so she concealed her tracks as she stepped towards the forest.
The fresh coat of snow crunched beneath her feet as she trod, carefully, throughout the forest. Anne collected her bow and arrows from the hole in the base of a tree that her and Antinanco had marked as hidden storage. She slowly strapped the quiver to her back, notching an arrow to the bow. Her eyes saw everything; every twig that bent in the winter wind, every snowflake that fell to join its companions, every trail left behind by an animal... Or man.
With a smile, she followed the footsteps of a particular creature, spaced widely apart as if it had been running. Anne picked up her pace, keeping track of her surroundings as she made her way through the forest, noting the direction of the footprints. She shivered in the cold, wrapping her coat and scarf tighter around her. At every gust of icy wind, her teeth chattered, but it didn't keep her from her task.
But, the footsteps stopped. Anne stood at the base of a tree and looked up. Nothing, of course. But he could be anywhere. In the silence, she focused all her senses that weren't numbed by the cold on finding her prey. She looked about, trying to spot the creature she hunted among the white snow. When her sight failed her, she closed her eyes and listened. The wind nipped at her ears and nose, the faint rustle of branches being the only recognisable sound around. When her hearing failed her, she blinked.
The world spun, transforming in colour and shape, nearly obscuring the scenery. Glancing around, it was almost pointless. Nothing stood out from the ordinary. Nothing-
Anne spun, fired the arrow and the gold figure that jumped down behind her caught it with ease.
"Not bad." Antinanco said with a smile. "If you had aimed, I may be dead."
"One day." She grinned and put her bow back in her quiver with the arrow that he passed back.
"Your tracking is getting better." He remarked, folding his arms. "But I have a feeling you were cheating again."
At his raised eyebrow, Anne rolled her eyes.
"It wasn't cheating. I just... Looked at it another way."
"You are only meant to use the senses you were meant to have to track."
"I didn't ask to be born with this!" She protested. "And besides, I can't smell, I can't taste, I can barely feel anything, so I have to make up for that."
He gave a deep sigh and Anne glared, making him smile.
"Just because you can run around the forest in just animal skin and fur, doesn't mean I can." She folded her arms. "It was never this cold back in England."
"But England does not have half the sights this forest possesses." Antinanco looked up at the snow covered branches above him and raised his arms. "Everyday, there is something new to be seen."
At his enchanted expression, Anne smiled. It wasn't just that he amused her, but the way he saw the world, it was through completely different eyes. Everyone she knew thought so blandly of the forest. It held animals to be hunted, trees to be chopped down and dangerous people who they feared. The Mohawk tribe.
But Antinanco was the least fearsome person she had ever met, despite the curious array of weapons he held. She was more afraid of tall men that walked past her in the street than this young man. For the past five years, he had taught her so much. Her perspective of the world had changed, for the better, and he taught her how to hunt, to climb, to track. Every skill had turned her from a young lady from Oxfordshire to a Mohawk hunter of the New World.
"I thought you would never return," he said, breaking the silence between them.
"Neither did I," Anne made sure not to mention the bruises around her collar, hidden by the scarf, or her tender side, the pain biting at her every time she let out a large breath. If she did, she knew he would become furious and demand to see this man. "I had to get out though, I can't bear to be kept locked up for so long."
"Only a weak man would do such a thing," Antinanco growled.
"He's certainly not weak," she muttered and winced as she sighed, temporarily forgetting about her side.
"Do you want to try hunting deer again?" He asked her as they began to step through the crisp forest together, changing the subject before one of them struck a nerve.
"If it turns out like last time, then no." Anne frowned, remembering attempting to shoot several deer over a course of several hours, each arrow missing by a wide shot, scattering the creatures.
"It will not, I have an idea."
She followed him to a wide lake, frozen over by the cold. On the other side, a lone deer stood, cautiously testing the ice.
"I'll miss!" She whispered. "I can't shoot that far and that accurate."
He pointed to the tree beside them and waved for her to climb. She did so, clambering up with ease. As she reached the middle of the giant, Antinanco followed her up and signalled for her to move onto a jutting branch that stuck out over the lake.
Carefully, she stepped onto the branch and crouched, raising her bow. Anne kept her balance as the branch flexed, the young Mohawk hunter approaching her from behind.
"Hold it steady." He told her, gently taking her arms.
As he guided her movements, Anne focused on the target, feeling the warm form behind her, his heat nearly distracting her.
She closed an eye, levelling up the arrow to her eyeline. When the branch creaked, she disregarded it. Anne shifted her weight and the branch creaked again.
"Uuh..." She looked down, just as the branch snapped.
The two crashed into the lake, ice shattering as the bodies fell through. The deer fled from the sudden event and Antinanco and Anne flayled about in the freezing water. They didn't fall too far, so luckily found the hole easily and with weak, shaking arms, they pulled themselves back onto the frozen lake, and onto the snow.
Anne lay on the bed of snow and shut her eyes, holding herself as she shivered violently. Nothing was warm anymore, the cold struck her core and she feared her heart would freeze over. As she felt herself being lifted, she was too weak to react and let the dripping form of Antinanco carry her through the forest. He was weak himself and there were countless times he nearly dropped her, but he trudged on, promising her under his breath that she would be okay. She couldn't hear anything after that, it blurred into a low hum as she trees above juddered past her vision with each step he took.
He eventually found an abandoned cave, a secluded area that he and Anne would spend rainy afternoons, now that its former inhabitants of the bear family had long moved away. Lying her down in the centre, he gathered twigs and logs that were set aside for such occasions and began to work on a fire. As the sparks leapt from the two stones, Anne's eyes fluttered open and watched as the small flame grew into a crackling fire.
"Take your clothes off." Antinanco ordered as he snatched up a woven blanket from the side.
"Excuse me?" Anne chattered, sitting up. Was she that cold that she was imagining things?
He crouched down in front of her and began to unbutton her coat.
"What are you doing?" She exclaimed, pushing him away.
"Do you want to freeze to death?" Antinanco said. He was frozen himself, but his priority was her.
She gave him a curious look, piecing together the link between undressing and getting warm. He sighed and shrugged off his own clothes, kicking them to the side.
"Your turn." He gave a warning look and she nodded, letting him take off her coat.
She weakly pulled the rest of her clothes off, hugging herself, half to warm her body, half to hide herself from him.
Antinanco draped the blanket around her and lifted her closer to the fire. She sat there, shivering in front of the flames, but already feeling the benefit of undressing. Anne turned slightly to see the young man sitting on the other side of the fire, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes closed, teeth chattering.
"'Nanco." She whispered and he opened his eyes.
She beckoned for him to sit next to her, opening the blanket slightly to invite him to share their warmth.
He shook his head. Of course, he would have sat with her. He felt as if his head would turn to a block of ice at any moment. But he wouldn't sit with her, not in this state. She was a beautiful young woman and he had loved her for the longest time, taking any excuse to touch her, guide her arm as she tried to shoot. If he sat with her now, under that blanket, he didn't know what he would do.
"Antinanco." She said again, voiced raised. "Do you want to catch your death of cold?"
He said nothing, staring fixtated on the fire, shaking. With a sigh, Anne stood and stepped towards him. She sat down beside him, pulling the blanket around the both of them. As their bodies pressed together, an instant heat began to form. She blushed and gripped her corner of the blanket, looking away from him. Practically from the moment she met the young Mohawk hunter, she had developed a strong feeling for him. It began with curiosity, followed by a feeling that she had to repay a debt for him saving her life. But then, as she grew to know him more, she found his entire character so beautiful and enchanting. Every time he put his arms around her to guide her shot, it would make her smile, just to be near him caused her heart to warm. She had never known a love like this before but it was the most wonderous feeling she'd ever experienced.
Antinanco put his arm around her, drawing her nearer to him. She was still cold, but much warmer than she had been before. Exhaling, Anne rested her head on his shoulder and the two watched the flames whip at the cold air, crackling and chattering away, eating at the chunks of wood and twigs below it. Almost absent mindedly, Antinanco played with the girl's hair, fingers intertwined in the light brown strands. She smiled, blissful in the quiet with his warming body pressed beside her. Sitting up, she turned to face him and raised a hand to play with his hair. Amused, she stroked his jet black hair, twirling his short ponytail around her finger, before trailing it along the feather that still hung loosely in his hair. A grin creeped onto their lips as they sat, playing with each other's hair, oblivious to the blanket that slipped off their shoulders.
His hand traced her face, brushing stray strands of hair behind her ears. As she gazed at him, her blue eyes sparkling in the light of the fire, his heart thudded loudly in his chest and he couldn't take it anymore. Cupping her face, Antinanco pressed his lips against hers. Anne hardly reacted, falling into the kiss as if it were a common occurrence. He leaned forward, gently pushing her down onto the dusty ground and she let him climb on top of her, moving her body to suit him. His hands followed the curves of her body, lifting her legs around his waist. She gasped as he slipped into her, arching her back as the once frozen forms grew in passion and heat, forming fires of their own. His lips brushed her neck, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a grin as he heard her heavy breathes, heightening moans as she succumbed to the torrent of passion that slammed into her. Their cries echoed around the dark cave, the final cry ringing throughout, scattering any creatures nearby.
Anne gasped for breath, relaxing as Antinanco slumped beside her.
"I don't suppose there's a chance of us catching a cold now, is there?" Anne said between breaths.
They turned towards each other and burst out laughing, the sound replacing the lover's cries.
Antinanco wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him and they slipped into a peaceful sleep, watching the fire dance on the cave's ceiling.