Hey guys! Not much for me to say here, but hopefully everyone enjoys this chapter. It is picking up a bit slow, and I do apologize for that, but I promise we'll get some real action soon. Anyway, here's chapter 4, please enjoy and feel free to review!

Haytham POV

"Where's Connor?" Eleanor asks as she comes down the stairs.

"You're the one who went to get him," I reply.

"He's not in his room."

"He probably went out last night at some point then."

"Aren't you concerned?"

"He can take care of himself. Besides, he's like that sometimes."

"You know, he's nothing like how you described him."

"How do you mean?"

"You told me he was always so serious, but he seems so happy to me."

"He has gotten that way. I'm glad to see that change in him. The poor boy deserves to be happy." At that moment, Connor enters.

"Who does?" he asks, sitting by me at the table.

"You." He shrugs.

"Anyway, good morning."

"Good morning son. How did you sleep?"

"Just fine."

"Oh, so that's why you left in the middle of the night, is it?" Eleanor asks.

"I told you it was too early to go to bed." He looks at the clock and gasps. "Shit, I'm going to be late." Connor gets up.

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before." He smirks.

"Not in English." He goes to pass me, but I catch his arm.

"You need to eat." He rolls his eyes.

"I don't have time."

"You need to learn to make the time. Skipping meals isn't good for you."

"Father, it's fine."

"On top of that, what about sleep? Your irregular sleeping habits will make you sick."

"You haven't spent enough time around me to know anything about my sleeping or eating habits. But either way, I'm already late."

"For?"

"I'm meeting someone."

"A contact?"

"Does it matter? I told someone I'd be somewhere by now and I am not." I smile.

"It's not a contact, then. So you do have friends." He scowls at me.

"Yes, Father, I do have friends."

"Well since you're late anyway it won't hurt to eat something."

"Father—"

"Enough. Sit." He jerks his arm away from me and sits. Eleanor gives him some food, and he begins angrily eating. "So who is it you're meeting that's so important?"

"I understand that you feel the need to know everything, but I already said it did not matter."

"Well, I'm sure whoever it is won't mind waiting too much."

"I'm sure she will."

"Oh, it's a girl? That explains everything."

"And what exactly does it explain?"

"Well, you already admitted it was not a contact, yet you seem quite eager to meet her."

"Yes, she is my friend and I enjoy her company."

"Is that all she is?"

"I do not follow."

"I have never met anyone so eager to skip food for someone who's 'just a friend.' I wouldn't tell anyone if you are, in fact, courting her."

"I am not."

"But you have feelings for her."

"I do not." He denies it, but I see his cheeks turn slightly pink. I grin.

"Oh, you definitely do."

"What makes you say so?"

"Well, if I had a doubt, the redness in your cheeks would have confirmed it." The color deepens, and he pulls his hood on.

"My feelings are irrelevant."

"So you admit it."

"There's really no use denying it. I clearly cannot lie to you."

"No, you can't. But are feelings ever really irrelevant?"

"They are when I live a dangerous life she knows nothing of. Or when I have enemies, even assuming our truce works. Besides, I don't—" He stops himself.

"Don't what?"

"Don't… want her to think of me differently. I kill people, in case you weren't aware. Plus, with my heritage I wouldn't want to taint her image. There are countless other reasons why I should not pursue it, but since I am done eating I will be leaving." Connor gets up and walks toward the door.

"So, what, do you ever plan to settle down?" He opens the door, and I think he's going to ignore me. But then he faces me, hand still on the doorknob.

"I do not want to assume I'll ever be able to, only to leave someone alone and miserable, wondering what they did wrong. I do not wish to leave her heartbroken and, worse, with child, who grows up fatherless and cold. Who ends up stuck in this life, on a never-ending fight, only to find themselves wondering what they even have left to fight for. I do not want to ruin lives due to a temporary affection." With that, he leaves.

Wow. That was harsh.

"What was that all about?" Eleanor asks.

"He just told me he's afraid of becoming me," I reply.

"Oh. Ouch."

"I suppose he is right, though. I could've played my cards better. Still, I wish he would see that I made a mistake, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't love."

Connor POV

I stop my horse in front of the general store, where Emily is outside waiting. She's wearing a pair of pants and a shirt, rather than a dress. She still looks lovely, though. I smile and dismount, then approach her.

"You're very late, you know," she says, though her smile tells me she is not angry.

"Sorry. My father made me eat," I reply.

"Well, I am glad he did. You need breakfast."

"I did not have the time." She shrugs.

"Anyway, let's go." She mounts my horse with ease, and I get on behind her. With my arms on either side of her, I take the reigns.

"So, where is it we're going?"

"There's a ranch out in the frontier where a man raises horses. If you head out of Boston, I'll tell you where to go from there." I spur the horse and we begin riding out of town. She turns and looks at me. "Why don't you ever take your hood off?"

"It's so I don't stand out so much."

"That's sad that you feel you have to hide under a hood. I don't see why the Natives aren't treated better." Yeah, I'll let her think that's what I meant.

"It is not a big deal, mostly I don't even notice." She sighs and turns back around. I smile when she leans against me. We ride like that all the way out of Boston. "Where to now?" I ask once we leave the city.

"Follow down this path, I'll tell you when to turn," she says, looking up at me but not moving her body away from mine. I force myself not to let my gaze linger long on her face.

We ride for another five or so minutes. Finally, we arrive at a large house with several horses and cows behind it. I stop the horse.

"This is it, I assume?" I say.

"Yes," she replies. I take the horse to the front and dismount, then take her hand and help her down. We walk to the front door and she knocks.

"Hello, Miss Carson," a stout lady says when she answers the door.

"Hi, Sarah. May we come in?"

"Of course." She steps aside, and I follow Emily in. Sarah leads us through the house and back out through a back door. At a small table on the porch sits three men. Two of which I do not recognize, but the third is Commander Washington. I cross my hands behind my back and avoid looking at him.

"Connor, I didn't know you were friends with Emily," Washington says, and I force myself not to swear. I was hoping not to talk to him.

"I guess there's a lot you don't know about me," I say coldly.

"Connor, you know the commander?" Emily asks.

"I should say he does. Connor's worked with me several times in the past," Washington says.

"That's so cool!"

"He's practically a hero," Revere adds, joining us on the porch.

"I most certainly am not," I say.

"What did he do that makes him a hero?" Emily asks.

"He played a huge role in the revolution by helping us win battles, helping me warn people of the British approach, and anything else he could do. His abilities both in fighting and leading are beyond impressive. I doubt we would have even survived this war without him."

"Connor, why didn't you ever tell me this?"

"It slipped my mind, I guess. Really, he's making my role sound more significant than it is. Was," I say, shooting Washington a glare as I correct myself.

"He's really not," Washington says in reply.

"Anyway, this is not why we're here."

"Right, the horse. Come along," one of the men I don't know says. He gets up and leads us to the pens. "My name is Simon Lewis, by the way."

"Connor," I reply and shake his hand.

"Pleasure, lad. Anyway, here she is." He leads us to a light brown horse with white ankles and a white nose. Emily strokes the horse's neck.

"Hey, girl," she says affectionately. "Here's the money," she adds as she pays him.

"Thank you, Emily. You guys can walk her out the side gate there." He points to where he means.

"Okay. Thank you. Goodbye, Simon."

"Goodbye, Emily." With that, we go our separate ways. Once we exit the yard, she mounts the horse with ease. I mount mine as well.

"Are we headed back to Boston?" I ask.

"Not unless you need to get back, I was hoping to ride with you a while."

"Are you sure? It is rather cold."

"I'll be fine."

"Okay, but I do insist we not stay out long."

"Stop worrying." Though her tone is annoyed, she still wears a smile. I find myself smiling too as we ride together aimlessly.

"Emily? How do you know Washington?"

"He's friends with my father. George is practically my uncle. Before the war he was always around."

"I see."

"He seemed to think highly of you, though you didn't seem too pleased to see him. What happened?"

"He and I had… a falling out."

"That really doesn't answer the question."

"I told you before about the attack on my village, right?"

"Yeah."

"He was the one who gave the order."

"Oh…" I clear my throat.

"So… when is your father leaving for his trip?"

"In a couple weeks."

"Are you ready to run the store alone for a month?"

"Yeah, I can handle it."

"Of course you can." She looks at me and smiles. My heart melts.

"Hey, take the hood off. There's no one around anyway." I remove it, and her smile grows.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just don't like talking to a hood."

"You sound like my father."

"That reminds me, you've talked about him a lot lately. I thought you said before you didn't like him?"

"He's… grown on me, I suppose. I didn't used to like him, but I do now. He is a good man, I just did not see that until recently."

"I see. So I'm guessing your relationship with him has improved?"

"Very much so. I'm staying at his house now, in fact."

"That's nice of him to let you stay there."

"Isn't it? It is a bit annoying living with him, though. He worries about my habits quite a bit."

"What habits?"

"He doesn't think I get enough rest or eat enough."

"Well, is he right?" I shrug.

"I've lived this long."

"Connor, maybe you should listen to him."

"I know, but I can't help it. I've trained myself to be this way and after so many years it's a hard habit to break." I notice a horse galloping up to us from behind, and we move out of the way quickly. However, the man stops alongside us. He draws a gun and points it at me.

"Connor Kenway?" he asks.

"First of all, not Kenway. What do you want?"

"Any last words, Assassin?" I frown, then look at the gun. If we were on foot, I could disarm him. It's a bit trickier on horseback though, especially from this distance. I slowly raise my hands.

"Not in front of the girl, that is my only request."

"Fine. Off the horse." I dismount, and he does the same.

"Connor—" Emily begins.

"It's okay," I reply.

"Come on, move it," the man says, and we walk into the forest. Once out of sight of Emily, we stop again. But instead of waiting to be shot, I disarm the man. He grunts as I twist his arm behind his back, then I kick the gun away. "Spare me…."

"Who are you?"

"I'm… another Poisonstar."

"Damn, you guys aren't messing around. Maybe you should take some actual time to plan an attack, though."

"Not that I'll have to." He elbows me in the stomach, then escapes my grip. He draws a knife and tackles me. We struggle over the knife, then I decide I've had enough of this game. I stab him with my hidden blade and shove his dying body off me. Then I return to Emily.

"Connor!" She dismounts and gives me a hug.

"It's okay, Emily," I say, hugging her back.

"What happened?"

"I…. I handled it." She looks up at me, then frowns.

"Is he dead?"

"I…"

"I see." She releases me. "Start talking."

"About?"

"Well, maybe why he called you an Assassin?" I sigh.

"Let's get out of the pathway." We take our horses and go into the woods away from the body. Eventually we tie our horses to a tree and sit on a rock.

"Well?"

"Okay. So there are these orders, you see. There's the Templars, and then there's the Assassins. I am a member of the latter group. For centuries we fought across the globe, each with different and opposing goals. The Templars always wanted to control people. The Assassins want people to have freedom. Although in the end we both desire peace, our means are quite different. So through the ages we have fought each other, hoping to overcome the other, the enemy, to get what we believe is best."

"By killing each other, I assume."

"You have to understand, it is the only way. One cannot hope to go about their business without the other intervening. And both sides are quite cunning, so the only way to stop the enemy from destroying our life's work, they must die. Besides the fact that we have often seen the other as corrupt."

"Violence isn't always the answer."

"See, that's what I say. We both talk so much about peace, yet we do not have peace with each other. So I have worked to create a truce between us, though it is only here in America for now. But now the Assassins and Templars will work together to achieve more than either could alone."

"If there's a truce, then who tried to kill you?"

"There's a third group that I only just discovered yesterday. They're called the Poisonstars. Apparently, they hate both the Assassins and Templars, and fear what may happen with us together. He is of that order."

"Why do they hate you both? What do they seek?"

"Power. Nothing more, nothing less. They feel threatened by the truce."

"So they hope to end the truce by killing you."

"Precisely." She goes quiet, and I let her process it. Eventually, though, I speak up. "Are you upset?"

"Oh believe me, I'm upset."

"Emily—"

"To be honest, it doesn't even bother me that you're an Assassin. I'm mad that you didn't tell me. Why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't know how you would respond. I didn't want you to hate me or think of me as some crazy murderer."

"And so now instead I think of you as a liar."

"I never lied to you." She raises her eyebrows.

"Oh, you didn't?"

"No, I didn't. I never told you, but not a thing I ever said to you was a lie."

"So you tactically deceived me by telling me fragments of the truth, so I would come to a false conclusion."

"I did not—"

"You lead me to believe that all you do is sailing and hunting for a living!"

"That is what I do for a living. I don't get paid to be an Assassin."

"That's your main occupation, is it not?"

"Well, I guess if you put it that way..."

"Damn you Connor. I've trusted you more than I ever have trusted anyone. Did you know that? I tell you everything and yet you don't trust me enough to tell me really anything about yourself? I don't know if I should be more hurt or mad. Did you ever even plan to tell me?"

"I wanted to. I swear I did. But how did I know if you would reject me for that? I know that if I had a normal life I sure wouldn't want anything to do with a person like me."

"You know what? I'm sick of your excuses. You're right. I don't want anything to do with someone like you. Someone who doesn't trust their friends and keeps secrets and misleads. I want nothing to do with you, Connor." My heart stops. I knew it.

"Emily, I'm sorry. Please—"

"No. I mean it. Leave me."

"Don't you want me to at least escort you back to the city?"

"I want you out of my sight! Go!" I get up.

"But—"

"Get out of here!" I look away, then get on my horse and gallop away. I don't bother looking back.