I do not own any ubisoft characters/events/content/scenes.

I'm doing this story mainly for myself. It's been something I've wanted to accomplish for awhile, I just hope that you will can enjoy it with me:):)

A Strange Encounter

Boston, Massachusetts: December 1773

The ground was damp beneath the small girl's feet.

Out she stepped, timid but brave, eager to find the one her heart loved most. Wide eyes searched the November air, the fogged morning cloaking the forest around her family's house. All was dark and quiet. He couldn't have gone out too far.

"Wait!" She cried aloud and bolted into the wood. He promised to take her this time, it'd been awhile since they last embarked on their ritual travels for supplies. "Sam! Sam where are you?"

The adrenaline was rushing through her veins. The excitement of her daring venture, the disobedience of her father's instruction, being all alone in the wilderness. This was no strange place.

Suddenly hushed voices gathered in the distance. Around the bend of a trodden path was its source and she panted with little legs. The chill of the air was harsher this day, the wind biting and holding her back.

"Sam!" she piped again. "Sammy I'm here!"

She fought with speed. Crushing leaves of defeat and pushing against the branches that tried to stop her, the little girl grew in fear of losing him. The voices were growing near.

Then upon a small opening, she broke free of the foliage. She stood upon the sight of nearby voices but her eye grew wide and heart nearly stopped beating.

Before her was the one she loved most. Standing in sideview to her, he stood upright in fear and somber courage. He was looking upward, and the little girl saw the fearsome presence. A great native warrior on horseback, with an arrow toted in bow, aimed at the young man's head.

On instinct, she ducked behind a nearby rock and watched. She had not seen the likes of this newfound danger before. A fierce man, with feathers and animal hides dressing him, with skin of copper and eyes of structure. She wondered of how much she looked like him.

The string was stretched back. Emma's heart pounded from her small chest as she watched the native man wait patiently, brooding and mighty as the mountains around them. Her brother fell to his knees and raised his hands up, quivering in fear.

The arrow flew.

"SAM!"

Emma sat upright from her bed. Waking in a cold sweat, she looked around urgently for the scene that was just before her. Blinking in confusion, she found the familiar setting of her bedroom. All was still and quiet, everything before her painted in the dawn's milky light.

She breathed out. Her eyes scanned her hands, cramped from clenching in the night. Stretching her fingers, she closed her eyes and creaked her neck. The emotion from the night's terror brought on a great headache.

Suddenly a figure burst through the door. It was the make of another familiar face, one stoic but looking on with a sense of urgency beneath his tricorn hat. Emma sighed.

"I'm fine, Eli." she assured her younger brother. "Just a dream."

"Sam?"

"Yeah," she looked down. "Guess you heard me?"

"Every time."

"Right."

A silence came on between them. Eli remained focus as Emma gathered her thoughts.

"Father and I will be on the docks," he erupted. "And Mady's downstairs, so beware."

"Ugh," she released a small groan. "She's not supposed to up yet."

"See you in a bit."

"Aya."

He closed the door. Emma then sighed to herself and rubbed her eyes tiredly. The trauma that occurred ten years ago never bothered to leave her alone. It was tiresome and nonetheless grueling to experience, however she learned over the years not to conform to it. Grief that haunts in the night washes away with a newfound morning.

After releasing a deep breath, she stretched her arms. Tiredly, she peered beyond the long dark tresses that framed her face and stared blankly. Displacing her night's thoughts, she observed the December air clinging to the walls and her own skin. She could hear the wind blow softly against the window on the far wall, along with seeing a whirl of snowflakes rushing by. Winter was practically here.

Climbing out of the warmth of her sheets, she placed her bare feet onto the hardwood floor. At the end of the bed lay a knitted throw, which she wrapped around her body upon sight. She then tiptoed to her window, pulling the shades more to the side to see clearer. Beyond the icy frame, she caught sight of downtown Boston, which stood about a half mile away. Its great harbor lingered just nearby, clouded by morning fog and dotted with the masts of large frigates. At the sight, she bore a small smile, remembering another day of work awaited her.

She withdrew from the window and immediately began changing into her day clothes. Going to a large wooden chest, she took out several articles of clothing, those mostly passed down to her by Eli, who was taller than her now. She'd throw on a fitted cotton shirt over her breast bindings, having the sleeves drape over her arms. Rough brown pants were strung tightly to her waist, as they still proved to be big on her. She then strapped on a pair of worn but faithful knee high leather boots and then a long brown shipman overcoat.

Dressed and fastened securely, she walked over to a small mirror. She gathered the dark raven tresses in her hands and fashioned them together in a neat bun. Having that secured by small braided ropes, she covered it underneath a brown tricorn hat.

Her outfit completed, she examined herself in the mirror. The disguise was perfect for the role of an aspiring young merchant or midshipman. Her copper skin labeled her immediately as a Mestizo, which made sense of her occupation as it was common to find such a characteristic on the docks. Her disguise as a boy was pretty convincing too, considering her slender build and not so low voice. The eyes she had were cold and colored by ash, kept neutral underneath dark brows and full lashes. She would refrain from any powder on them, just to seal the deal.

Satisfied with her look, she crept out of her bedroom. The house still lay quiet, protecting the three siblings and father she lived with. However as she walked down the stairs, sounds of quiet chatter arose.

As expected, Emma came upon her older sister. Newly eighteen, Madelyn was kneading dough in the kitchen, focused and rather stern. Emma observed her loveliness, having the Maywood sand-colored hair and green eyes that would compliment her round face. She also had a body developed of healthy curves, and a demeanor that was serious but sensible. It was times like this in which Emma wished she had been born into the family, merely to share in the traits.

Never the matter, the young woman paid no attention to Emma as she crept in. The light that seemed to glow around her suddenly vanished when Emma came into view, an act not unfamiliar. Few words were ever exchanged between the two girls, but if there was one truth Emma knew about her sister, it was that Madelyn hated her with all of her being.

"Emma!" Another young voice chirped from around the corner. "Good morning!"

Emma smiled at the notion of her younger sister. The last of the Maywood children, she carried a sustaining joy with every step of her existence. She was a happy creature, eleven years old with the trademark blonde hair and green eyes.

"'Morning, Grace," she replied warmly. "Sleep well?"

"Yep!" she smiled broadly. "You going to the harbor? With father?"

"That's the plan."

"Say hi to Julian for me," she requested. "And tell him that-"

"Grace?" Madelyn sweetly interrupted. "Can you come here and help me please? We have to focus now."

As the youngest sibling solemnly did as she was told, Emma stared narrowly at Madelyn. The oldest sibling only continued to work on her pastry, making no eye contact whatsoever.

Giving Grace a sympathetic look, Emma turned to leave. "I guess we'll talk later."

"Bye!"

As she opened the door, the brisk morning air came immediately upon her face. The cold awaking her senses, she pulled her jacket closer together and started heading down the pathway to down town Boston. The morning was foggy, but the sunshine presided openly in the clear sky. The wind she observed earlier was mild and snow that had been piled upon the ground from days past.

After she wandered the dirt path that winded through hills and sparse neighborhoods, she came across the Boston scene. It was bustling already, having people start up their shops and trades. The buildings were all brick and square, consisting of two stories that each contained a shop. The streets were wide and cobbled with stone, having been occupied by rushing feet, random stalls, and the occasional lone pig. Sounds of men bargaining, women laughing, and sea gulls crying filled her ears. Bodies started to flood before her, busy with whatever task they had. And they would speak with a variety of voices; accents ranged from nasal Bostonian to rugged Cockney. She wondered if she developed some accent over the years.

As she walked along the streets, she would come across a familiar face. A handsome one, it would be, a light one consisting of blue eyes and straight black hair. His age matched Emma's sixteen years, but he had a reputation for the art of charm. This boy could woo any lady with his gleaming smile and the only problem was that he knew that fact, and knew it very well.

He was leaning against a stack of crates, garbed in clothes similar to Emma's outfit. Seemingly waiting, he looked casually over the crowd while twiddling a coin in his hands. When he recognized her from about two meters away, he flashed that famous smile of his and got up to join her side.

"Morning, dearest."

"Julian." she acknowledged.

"A beautiful morning isn't it?" he responded while facing straight ahead. "But I gotta say that you're killing it for me."

Emma kept facing forward. "How so?"

"You know, you could really smile more." He suggested. "To start with. Then maybe you could pretend to be happy about life or something. Join me in the prospect of ever increasing wealth."

"Wealth? What, you have a big sale coming up?"

"Last night," he shot a smart look. "Your father and mine caught a fine deal. Ended up never leaving."

"You all were out all night? Never went home?"

"The patrols were out," he explained. "With that much order, we couldn't risk going home, having them follow us and then trace us back. Its risky selling right now."

"Eli was mentioning that earlier this week."

"Well we evaded them once again," he stated proudly. "And because of it we shall acquire great gains."

"Then I shall say I am happy," she admitted sincerely. "That is great news, but you should know that I am happy regularly."

He scoffed. "Uh-huh."

"No, I really am," Emma turned to him. "Doesn't mean I have to skip my steps and sing every word."

He shook his head. "I'm not saying that. You have those incredible eyes and you just use them as darts upon everybody. So much hostility and distrust."

"I don't trust anyone."

"Do you trust me?"

"I'm sorry," she jeered back, "Maybe I should be like every other girl and bat my eyes for you. Would that work?"

"Quite frankly, yes," he flipped the coin in the air. "Anything but your scary look."

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry that I'm not a blushing petticoat but I'm trying to be a boy here and therefore being cautious. As you should be!"

He scoffed loudly. "Why? And watch for what? Thieves, harlots, or even-," he paused, "begging old men? Oh God forbid!"

She elbowed his ribcage. "That wasn't funny."

"All he wanted was a bit of fun," he cooed. "You could've given him some form of courtesy. The man did throw money at you after all."

"The point is that he somehow saw through my disguise," she said in a low whisper, "I can't be having that. Especially with all these soldiers out."

"It was only one time," he waved over. "And it was a long time ago…"

The two walked along the mass of bodies upon the streets. The sounds escalated with the growing mass of people. Seeing the masts in the distance, Emma could tell that they were a quarter mile away from the harbor.

"Hey," Julian nudged her shoulder. "Speaking of soldiers, you see the signs there?"

Emma followed the direction of his nod. A variety of papers were nailed upon the sides of the buildings; pictures of soldiers in red coats tantalizing Bostonian citizens. Words such as "Tyranny," "Taxes," and "No Representation," plastered above in bold black ink.

"What is this?"

"This is protest," Julian mused. "Everyone's gettin' heated, just like my Pa said. Mad about the oncoming taxes."

She looked to him."There's more coming?"

"Which got me thinking," he talked quieter. "This is our chance to deploy a scheme again."

"Scheme?" Emma questioned. "No, I'm not dressing up again and pretending to be some harlot of yours."

He nearly spat. "What? No! You're a terrible actor anyways."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"No, I'm talking about a legitimate scheme," he continued. "One that messes with the commissioners."

Emma looked on him with keen interest.

He smiled at her response. "There's talk of a gathering. A large one. At the harbor, in fact. Something to do with the new tea tax?"

"Hm." Emma responded. "A boycott or something?"

"It's coming up soon, whatever it is. The fools be messing with our business, we should mess with theirs. We'll listen for it."

They continued to walk down the streets. Emma pondered over the intriguing rumor and whether or not it would become true. The signs of protest were of more notice to her now, seeing them nearly everywhere she went. Political heat wasn't unknown to her, but this would be something interesting.

Before long, Emma caught something in the corner of her eye. It was very fast and seemed to be gaining up on her. She kept her face firm and eyes vigilant on her surroundings. "Julian," she nudged quietly. "Did you see that?"

Julian looked at her obliviously. "See what?"

"A flash of white," the sound of suspicion heavy on her reply.

"Hmm..nope." he replied carelessly. "Other than the thousands of seagulls above our heads.."

Emma looked past Julian, down into an alleyway. Right as they completely passed it, she saw it again.

"There it is!" she exclaimed.

Julian looked around clueless as she picked up the pace. "I think we're being followed."

"You're barmy. Paranoid thing."

"No, I'm not." She stated seriously. "Someone's following us and we need to lose him. Look!"

Julian looked to his right and found the mass of white she was speaking of.

"Ah." He sighed while looking down. "Think it's authorities?"

"I don't know! We're so stupid! They probably heard us talking."

"What do we do?"

"Get away," she said curtly, "Let's backtrack and split. Backtrack to see if he's following us and then split for confusion."

"Confusion? What are-"

"Just do it!"

Emma and Julian turned around subtly by going around a fish-stand that stood in the middle of the road. They moved swiftly through the crowd but Emma kept an eye toward their pursuer. The blob of white would soon start to follow in their direction.

"Yep, he's following us." she confirmed. "Okay, when you come up at this next alley on your left, turn into it. It should lead into one of the main streets and hide you well."

"…Alright." He nodded in understanding. "You?"

"I'll turn into the alley on my right, circle back past this street and meet you on the next street over. Whatever you do, don't go home."

"Got it."

Emma released a nervous breath. "Okay ready? 3...2...1..Go!"

Immediately Julian and Emma split in opposite directions, bolting off according to their plan. Emma snaked her way across the crowd before running into the bare alley way. The sunshine disappeared and posters fluttered by as she ran. She glanced behind and saw a white hood pursuing her through the crowd she just escaped. Her nerves started to tingle within her. She hadn't been chased like this.

To her dismay, she found that the end of the alley way opened into a grassy enclosure surrounded by multiple brick buildings; an open yard for the back of the residences. She cursed under her breath before turning right out of the alley and greeting this certain dead end. She looked around, scrambled to get behind a fence that jutted out as a barrier for one of the building's yard limit, and stood silent.

Her heart pounded against her chest. The fear started to grow alive in her, as she didn't know who could've been after her. She had bothered some redcoat captains and city commissioners for their strict rules towards navigation and trade rules in the past. Julian and her were careful to cover their tracks. Maybe a fellow shipman gave them away. This person didn't look like one of them though. And it couldn't be some of her father's competitors, unless he wanted true agitation, which garnered too much risk all around.

Whoever it was, she waited in ongoing terror. There was nowhere to run, just hide. Squatting behind the fence, she anticipated his sound of his feet approaching, but they never came. Only a few minutes passed, but it felt like hours. What if this person truly wanted to hurt her? And why weren't they appearing?

She stood puzzled and entertained the thought of peering behind the fence. Dangerous as that idea was, she still decided to go for it. Nothing was worse than hiding in fear. She peaked behind the fence's edge. Her alert eyes scanned the scene before her, seeing nothing but swaying clotheslines, roaming chickens, and lone haystacks. No one was there. She stepped out of hiding.

Then before she knew it, she heard a great mass pound onto the ground behind her. With little time to react, she felt a tight grip on her arms followed by being slammed into a nearby brick wall. She became dazed for a moment before acknowledging the pain. Instinctively, she resisted her attacker by flailing her legs at him. Then the man's arm held her body up by pinning her neck and crushing her windpipe. She could barely breathe.

"Give me the letter and I will spare you," demanded a voice from within the white hood.

Emma croaked. "Note? I don't have a no-"

He enforced more strength upon her neck, making her gag. "This is no time for lies." he said gruffly.

She stared downward coldly at him. She examined his outfit and found a broad man with white long robes, high buckskin boots, and a gleaming tomahawk at his belt. Fearful of his sight she then looked into his eyes. A light brown they were, deep with focus and narrow with a deathly contempt. Never had she seen an impression of such hostility.

He broke her trance by pointing a blade to her neck out of his sleeve. Completely surprised, she let out a weak gasp. She then eyed the blade as she felt the pressure to think fast.

"Alright," she falsely confessed in a strained voice, "Let me reach it, it's in my back pocket."

Without another word he released his grip and let her fall to the ground. She fell on two feet clumsily and tried to collect her breath while caressing her sore neck.

"Now!" he got down and yelled in her face. "I'll end you."

"Okay, alright!" she pleaded against the presence of the blade. "Let me reach it."

Emma quickly straightened her stance. After giving the hood a cold glance, she started to turn to collect the "letter". As she was doing so, she saw how he peered in closer to her as if to see the paper leave her pocket. Then an idea popped into her head.

"There are two ways to break any man's defense.." she remembered her oldest brother's words.

Without a moment's notice she grabbed the man by his collar, pulled him in, and pressed her lips against his. Completely taken aback by the notion, he dropped the blade, stumbled back, and completely lost his stance. Emma knew he would react in due deadly resistance so she had no time to lose. In his clumsiness, she raised her boot upwards and kicked him directly in the groin. "AAH!"

He released her right then, and that's when she bolted. He merely cowered at the pain, groaning loudly and cursing. She didn't stay long enough to hear him fully and flew herself to freedom from his captivity. Realizing her flight, the hooded man gnashed his teeth, swore revenge, and stumbled slowly after her.

She disappeared from the site. Not feeling her legs, she glided down the alleyway she came from while holding tightly to her hat. Panting heavily in fear and lack of much needed air, she dared not looked back. Her eyes were kept before her as she snaked through the crowd and crossed over to the street to meet Julian. Feeling immediate relief at the sight of her life long friend, she ran harder to him. Upon his confused face, she reached out and grabbed his hand, yanking him in the direction of the harbor.

"Where've you been?!" he cried out behind her.

"Not now! Questions later!"

He struggled to keep up with her pace. "How did you lose him?"

"The Maywood method!"

"Oh," he paused before realizing. "Oooh."