"The journey across the Atlantic was arduous at best, with weeks on end spent wandering the same ship and eating the same dried meat. Although I had captained the Aqulia, I never imagined living aboard a ship for this long. It was a learning experience and I passed the days staring out into the open seas, helping the crew where I can, and training whenever I can. Lafayette spent much of it teaching me about his native homeland. Its history of wars, religion and strife. It is an old tale for me, of the few ruling the many, the rich starving the poor and the strong bullying the weak. Behind all this, I am certain, are the Templars. But before I can do anything to help my friend, I must do more to learn all I can about his homeland..."

Brest - January 25th, 1785

A cannon-shot from a French Man-o-War announced the start of a new day for the French fleet, which anchored within the great fortress harbour of Brest. Within seconds of the first shot, the sounds of bare feet on wood were heard distinctly in the morning air, as the sailors prepared their ships for their drills. Pig-tailed sailors in white trousers and blue shirts scurried around the deck, while others, clinging on for their lives on the towering masts, sought to untie the sails and secure the rigging.

The fresh sea wind kept the men refreshed, and the soft gust of sea wind caressed the sailors as they worked. Meanwhile below decks, the marines and other sailor struggled as they gathered around the capstan, a huge winch with poles sticking out like an octopus, and they began the day by unceremoniously turning the huge winch to raise the anchor, inch by inch.

A small peg legged sea man sat on the circle in the middle of the capstan, jokingly playing tunes on his violin to set the pace and to encourage the men.

"Faster lads! You won't get to England at this rate!" The men cursed, and groaned as they slowly turned the huge wheel, they knew full well that the officers were having breakfast upstairs, and the smell of fresh cod filtered down into the ships lower decks, torturing the poor tars below.

All this of course, was just one little detail in the tapestry that was Brest; Aside from the bustling cityscape, there was the large arsenal, the dominating castle, and the massive harbor guns and stone fortifications made New York and Fort George seem like a wooden shack and shanty town by comparison.

"Welcome, to La Belle France Connor!" Lafayette announced proudly as he led his friend down the gangplank onto the docks. "What do you think?"

Connor had seen nothing like it, not even in his first days visiting Boston in his youth and it took a few seconds before he realized that he had been staring with his mouth gaping open, he quickly cleared his throat. "It...It is amazing. I've never seen anything like it."

"Wait till we reach Paris mon ami." The Frenchman said with anticipation. "It is the center of Europe and the civilized world, it will make this look like nothing."

"I do not doubt it." Connor said softly, taking in the rich smells, sights and sounds as he stepped into the carriage with Lafayette. The porters spent the next few minutes loading the Frenchman's baggage before setting off. Connor heard the whip crack as the driver sped the carriage out of the dockyard, turning on to the roughly cobbled streets of the city.

It was a rough ride, and the wheels rattled on the cobblestones, shaking the carriage incessantly, while all around them, Connor saw nothing but a sea of humanity; from bakers, merchants, soldiers to orphaned children running around in the streets. Everything in fact, reminded him of his first visit to Boston, except...everything here was bigger.

"So how long to Paris?" Connor asked,

Lafayette laughed a little, amused at the wide eyed curiosity his home country had sparked in his friend. "A few days maybe, I have a lovely little apartment in the center of the city, you are welcome to stay there with my family. It has been some time since I've seen my wife, and I would love to introduce you to her."

"I would be honored to." Connor smiled.

"There is also an old friend who I think you would be interested in seeing as well."

"An old friend?"

"You'll know when you see him." the Frenchman smiled cryptically.

Paris - February 1785

Against all expectations, the city of Paris was even grander than the fortress-city of Brest. As they passed the great palaces and squares, the names became lost in the jumble as Lafayette excitedly told them in succession to the young Mohawk - The Tuileries, the Luxembourg, the Place Vendome, the Invalides. The gardens too, were a magnificent sight, and the first signs of the approaching spring thaw were evident as the first signs of color stabbed through the winter grass. The river, the Seine, as Lafayette called it, was impressive as well, passing through the city's heart, which was connected through five bridges. On it, he saw washerwomen making their rounds and fisherman working on the days catch, almost oblivious to the odors and waste coming from a slaughterhouse just down the river.

The majesty and beauty of the outskirts of the city however, were nothing like the crowded city center. Downtown Paris was literally a jumble of narrow streets and four or five story buildings with pointed roofs built in the traditional European style (which made it perfect to climb or free run, he figured).

In fact, it was so crowded, he was only able to get a small glimpse of the famous, Notre Dame, a beautiful cathedral that towered above the city, before he was once again lost in the cluster of tiny crowded streets and buildings. People swarmed the streets, and there were several instances when Connor thought they would run over someone for sure, but somehow, in the swirl of horses, carriages, carts and people, they waded through. Some swift Parisans even darted in front of the carriage, narrowly avoiding being hit before slipping into a narrow passageway.

The sounds of wheels and horses on cobbled stones, and shouting men in French and other languages of Europe was deafening. Even more powerful was the smell; manure, excrement being dumped from the windows and courtyards, fresh blood from the butcher's shop and perfumes from the far east all came together in an exotic and potent mix.

Around him, he also saw people from all walks of life, poets chatting at a cafe, street singers and beggars, stilt walkers and entertainers. His trained eye too, caught the sight of several pickpockets waiting outside the doors of luxurious hotels, hoping to brush along someone passing by.

White coated soldiers, French regulars, patrolled the streets in force, a grim reminder of the authority of the King as well.

It wasn't long before the carriage made its stop at a modest apartment deep within the city. At the address of 183 rue de Bourbon.

"Welcome my friend, to Hôtel de La Fayette." Lafayette introduced his lodgings to Connor with a sweeping bow. "You are of course, welcome to stay here while you are in Paris. At least, until I show you my family's chateau."

As the porter unloaded Lafayette's baggage, the doors to the apartment were opened by another servant, revealing a young and fair-looking Frenchwoman, and three children.

Lafayette glowed as he looked proudly at his family, and wasted no time in dragging Connor along.

"Connor, it is my pleasure to introduce to you my family. This is my wife, the love of my life, Madame Adrienne De La Fayette. Our children, little Georges Washington De La Fayette, my eldest daughter Anastasie. My other daughter, Virginie, as well."

Little Georges Washington, a boy of five, smiled ear to ear as he saw Connor. "Papa! Is this the man you said who stabs people for a living and scalps them?"

"Hush boy! Don't be rude in front of our guest!" Lafayette replied furiously in French, thanking god that Connor at least, couldn't hear what Georges just said.

"Let him have his fun dear." His wife smirked, then looked towards Connor with a smile. She spoke in English for his benefit.

"A pleasure monsieur." Madame Adrienne bowed gracefully, extending her hand towards Connor, who politely bowed to kiss it.

"Vous me semblez très jolie aujourd'hui madame, enchanté." Connor said effortlessly, which pleasantly surprised everyone. Well. Almost everybody.

"You speak French?!" Lafayette felt himself going pale, half surprised, and somewhat horrified that Connor understood the last exchange.

"My mother was very talented." Connor explained with a smirk. "My people have had dealings with both the French and English so she figured it best that I know a little of both. Just never had the chance to use it much."

"A pleasure indeed Connor." Adrienne chuckled, replying in French "So it seems you are a hero, a soldier, a Mohawk and a gentlemen as well." She gave Lafayette a teasing look. "You must bring more of your friends for me to meet, if they are half as charming as Connor."

Lafayette flushed a bit at that remark.

"My husband has told me many things about you, more precisely, how you saved his hide back in America. Which I must thank you for, by the way."

"Your husband is too kind madame." Connor chuckled, the tension easing out of his voice. "I was merely doing my part to help my adopted people."

Sensing that this was the best moment for a tactical withdrawal, Lafayette quickly cleared his throat.

"About that tour Connor, let us continue. I think it is time for our children to take a nap non?" he quickly swept Connor into the courtyard, returning an equally teasing glare to Madame Lafayette before continuing.

"Your wife is very lovely." Connor smirked.

"Oui, indeed." Lafayette half grumbled as he walked down the hallway and towards the study.

It was there where Connor was treated to a most curious sight. An old man sitting at a couch, with a fur cap and simple brown coat that made him seem like a colonist living on the frontier. That was not far from the truth perhaps.

"I see that our young friend has mastered the French art of conversing with the ladies." The man chuckled softly. "A most delicate and important skill I must admit, having been there myself."

At this point, Lafayette regained his composure, and smiled as he led Connor into the room.

"I know you haven't met face to face, but I know you've corresponded with him during your time in Boston. Connor, I am pleased to finally introduce to you, Doctor Benjamin Franklin."

"Good to finally put a face to the name Connor," Franklin shook Connor's hand enthusiastically. "Of course, you have my eternal gratitude and thanks, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to finish that blasted Almanac."

"It was my pleasure, I do what I can to help." The young assassin replied.

"If only your kind were more common in the world, I would not doubt the revolution need not have happened in the first place. You are of the Iroquois of course?"

"Mohawk." Connor replied.

"Mohawk..." Franklin nodded in contemplation. "Ah yes...a very noble tribe. I am glad to have you on our side good sir. As you can see from my attire, I can probably fit right in. And you as well my friend! French society seems to think its a requirement for high fashion these days to copy me. Nothing like a fur cap for that bit of the new world rustic look."

Connor grinned as he took in Doctor Franklin's attire. Indeed, the man dressed simple enough to be living on the frontier in a wooden cabin, not in the middle of one of the world's most luxurious cities.

"Doctor Franklin is the American Ambassador to France at the moment, a great honor. So if you would like to pass by any letters to your homestead or friends back in the states, he can help you in those matters."

"At least, until my tenure is up." Franklin joked. "Of course, my replacement is coming soon, you should find him quite amiable as well. Jefferson...yes that fellow."

"In any case Doctor, perhaps I can trouble you to attend to our guest?" Lafayette asked. "Show him around the city, while I attend to my matters of state."

"Of course," Franklin replied. "I may even have an experiment I can use your help on my good man. In fact, let us get started on it tomorrow!"

The Frenchman nodded. "Good! Then I leave you to your devices for now."

Before he left, Lafayette placed a hand on Connor's shoulder, this time his eyes were serious.

"Connor, I will let you know when the time is right for us to speak of the matter which I've called you here for. But first, I need to get my affairs in order, especially at court. For now though, enjoy Paris! See the sights and sounds!"

"I will my friend." Connor replied, then smirked. "In fact, I think tonight is the good night for some exploring."

Paris was quite a city, especially at night.

Thousands of candle lamps lit the street, bathing the city in an eerie glow. From his perch at the top of the Notre Dame cathedral, he took the entire sight in with relish. He also took the opportunity to study and memorize the various pathways and winding streets illuminated by the street candles, making a map within his memory for future reference. It was an old habit, but one that could prove useful in a new city, especially if he were to stay here for a while.

The night was cool, a slight breeze blowing through the city as the last of the shops were closing up. Merchants were putting away their wares while one by one, the distant candles became snuffed out as the city watch replaced them for the next day. The city was falling asleep.

Which made it the perfect time to explore.

Connor quickly jumped from his perch, executing a perfect swan dive as he aimed for the nearby cart of hay at the base of the cathedral. Landing smoothly into the cart, he quickly brushed off the haystacks from his hooded uniform as he ran for the nearest building, climbing up it using the many handholds provided to him by window sills and signs. It was much easier than back in Boston, he reckoned, where most of the building sides were solid brick.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, street to street, it was amazing how large the city was. Connor reckoned he could jump for a year and still not hit all the houses and rooftops the city had to offer. Working in Paris then, would take some time.

Figuring that he had enough running on rooftops, he quickly landed into a nearby alleyway, narrowly dodging a platoon of white coated regulars along the way. It was a pattern he was getting used to. Something was definitely going on in the city, there were enough soldiers here to make the occupation of Boston seem tame.

As he walked down the alleyway (usually it was a dangerous thing to do at night, and alone, but he had reason to feel safe), he heard a series of footsteps behind him, a soft thud that told him someone had landed right behind him.

In the blink of an eye, Connor unsheathed his hidden wrist blade. His elbow made contact with the solar plexus of the stranger behind him, pinning him against the wall even as he stretched the blade out at his throat.

"Wait!" the man garbled. "Monsieur Connor?"

"Yes..." Connor replied cautiously, narrowing his eyes as he studied the man. "That's me. How do you know my name, monsieur? And why are you following me?"

"Word of mouth actually." The man surprisingly, despite having a blade held to his throat, grinned. "You were a pain to follow. Very few of us could move like that. But I figured this was the best time to meet you."

"You still haven't answered my question." He said angrily, pressing the blade more tightly against the man's throat. "If you desired to meet me, why here and not at my lodgings? and at this hour?"

The Frenchman smiled calmly. "Let us just say my existence is not appreciated by his majesty's soldiers, or the government in general."

Connor stared intently at the man, then spoke softly and with conviction. "Rien n'est vrai" (nothing is true)

"Tout est permis. (everything is permitted)" The man finished, then gasped as Connor let go of the man, but still holding his blade in case.

"It is great to see someone from the colonial order." The stranger replied.

"How did you find out I was here?" Connor asked suspiciously.

"Ah, the innocence of youth. We've been tracking you since you left the boat at Brest."

"You said you had some business with me? monsieur..." Connor said cautiously.

"Please. Call me Arnaud. Arnaud Giuseppe. And yes we do, I'm just curious that's all. How a fellow member of the order is here finding himself in Paris, in the company of one of the King's men."

King's men? Would he be talking about...

"You mean Lafayette?" He replied, not liking where this was going.

"The very same." Arnaud replied. "He's a professed Royalist, and you know what they are like and what they stand for."

"I can assure you that he is not a Templar, and nothing like them, if that is what you are insinuating." Connor said gruffly.

"Indeed? Even so, your association with him raises many questions among us. Disturbing questions..." Arnaud continued.

Connor however, was in no mood to defend his innocence, and was in even less of a mood to hear someone slander his friend. "If your spies are as good as they claim, then you will know that the last two grand masters of the Templar Order died by my hand. Including my own father."

"I know that very well." Arnaud acknowledged with another smile. "In fact, I knew your father myself. His death, and Charles Lee's was a boon to our cause. That is why you are still alive right now. For the moment at least."

Connor tensed up a bit at the last line, and he held the knife steady.

"Relax...relax!" Arnaud laughed heartily, "I was just joking. Think of it as a test. To see what our colonial brethren are made of."

Arnaud backed away, hands high in the air to show that he was unarmed. "Very well Connor, I accept that you are one of us. And that your...friend, is safe for now. But what will you do if your friend turns Templar?"

"That will never happen." Connor said confidently.

"What if it were to?"

"Then I would have to do my duty."

"Ah...spoken like a true Assassin. Very well Connor. That is satisfactory." The man smiled, pulling out a concealed bottle of rum and uncorking it. "We will allow your friend to move unharmed then." Arnaud continued, but the amusement soon left him and his tone became deathly serious as he uttered the next phrase.

"But if I ever see your friend, or you turn against the people of France. I won't hesitate to cut your throat. Even if you are of the brotherhood."

Connor nodded grimly, he too, would have issued the same warning. "I understand, and you have no need to worry." He replied, equally serious.

The smile came back to Arnaud's face. "Excellent. A toast then! To France! May her people soon be free!"

Arnaud drank a big gulp, before handing the bottle to Connor, who also took a small drink, his eyes never leaving the man.

"We will meet again, if you ever wish to contact us, or require our assistance, you may find us in any of the coffee shops in the city. Simply ask for Citizen Schaefer." Arnaud smirked, producing a card for Connor and patting him on the back as he took it.

As Arnaud turned, he gave a low bird whistle as he walked away from Connor and into the streets. At that moment, Connor looked at the rooftops directly above the alleyway, where the shadows of four men armed with muskets stood, bathed in the moonlight; all aiming their guns downward at him.

"What?" Arnaud gave an innocent shrug. "You didn't really expect me to put myself at your tender mercies did you?" The Frenchman laughed heartily. "Until we meet again mon frere (my brother), bon chance! and welcome to France!"

Connor watched uneasily as the man left with his cohorts. He had made contact with the brotherhood in Europe, that at least was accomplished fairly quickly. But still, the words the man spoke made him feel uneasy. Lafayette...a royalist and templar? No, that can't be true. Lafayette was not that kind of man.

He too had another name on his list... this Citizen Schaefer,

Another name for another day. He reckoned.

Animus Database Entry - Tactical Archive by Shaun Hastings : The City of Paris

Paris is the capital and largest city of France, situated on the river Seine, in northern France, at the heart of the Île-de-France region. It has a population of over 500,000 by this time in the 18th century. Apparently not too shabby a place to live at this time, even if it was French and all. It served as an important settlement of France for more than two millennia, by the 12th century, it one of Europe's foremost centres of learning and the arts and the largest city in the Western world until the 18th century. For all it's beauty and grace however, it was also center stage for the absolutist monarchies and their corrupt governments. It was a popular saying among peasants at those times that France was both blessed by god, and cursed by Paris.

Kind of like Europe as a whole, except with the French.

A/N: After doing some more research, I'm more than convinced the next game should be in France. I mean, Benjamin-freaking-Franklin is in Paris at this time period!

I think it's not much a stretch to say Connor speaks French. The Iroquois (and Mohawk by extension) after all, dealt with both the French and the English and if Ziio was insistent enough to teach Connor English when he was five, she must have squeezed some French in there as well. At least that's the most logical thing i can think of, I'm still wondering how Ezio learnt to speak turkish in Constantinople for revelations =S

Wow thanks everyone for the awesome faves/follows/reviews!

lemonandpearl: Yes, and much more epicness to come :D Thanks for the review!

teno-hikari: If we go by the pattern set by ubisoft and Ezio, i'm very confident this is where the series will go :D hopefully . Thanks again, i try to keep it as canon as i can!

Nerdman3000: Thanks for the review (and awesome title shot), I'll update as often as i can, hopefully pretty regularly.

Guest: Thanks! I'm flattered that you think it feels like a sequel :D Hopefully it stays that way

will zona: Thanks for the comments! I haven't read that actually, I'll be sure to catch it :) i can always use more inspiration and i've been trying to find an AC fic to follow for awhile

BananaJimJams: Thanks for the review! Stay tuned for more :D

thewriter1713 : The one thing i wish AC3 did was show us more interaction between Connor and the homestead characters :) but i'm glad you liked it!