Hello once again!

Thank you to everyone who's following this story and to all those who have left a review/favorite! This chapter is a bit longer, due to some (hopefully) interesting character development going on! Hopefully it feeds you all with the romance and drama you desire :D

! AC3 Ending Spoiler Alert ! Disclaimer: All characters (except Annora) belong to Ubisoft, as do the cover images.

IV - I'm Not Myself - Charles journeys to Monmouth to visit Annora and Haytham. Meanwhile, Annora gives into herself and breaks the rules, Haytham discovering another side of who he thought himself to be, both realizing life will never be the same.

This in my opinion is quite an emotional chapter! I hope you enjoy! :3 - AssassinSuzy

IV

'He will wait. He will watch. And then – when he's seen all his life's work brought to ruin... Only then will I allow him to die.'

Tuesday 18th Sept

"Sir! Sir."

"What?", his dark eyes turned to the guard standing before him, the dark orbs full of hate and anger.

"I was told to deliver this letter to you from the local mail carrier", he backed away in fear, stretching out his hand which held a small envelope. Charles aggressively snatched the letter away and waved his hand around.

"You are dismissed", his deep voice resounded around the tavern he was sitting in. He grabbed a small knife and cut through the seal hastily, without mercy, grabbing the piece of paper out of it, almost ripping it up. His expression however, instantly shifted when he recognized the quick and elegant handwriting.

"Annora", he whispered, his lips turning into a smile for the first time this week. His eyes traced over the text, reading it carefully.

'Dear Charles, the man you have brought to me, Haytham Kenway, was seen by the doctor you have sent the same day. He was only given a short time to live, but, somehow he made it through the night and now seems to be recovering well. He eagerly ate the food I have prepared him but is ultimately bed-ridden due to his still weak body. Of course it will take a long time to recover from such wounds but I hope you will arrive soon so you two can talk. He has also told me that...', his eyebrows turned into a frown, knowing she would eventually find out.

'You are going to be targeted as well and will most likely be killed. Please, make haste on your journey here as I am sure you are staying nearby. I would not appreciate anything unfortunate happening to you. Stay safe Charles, Annora Collet'.

She always had a way with words that softened his rock hard heart. She was worried for him, honestly and frantically worried, as she was never so forward before, a clear sign that something was wrong. Something was lifted off his heart as he learnt of Haytham's recovery, and he felt the urge to read over the words again to confirm that it was true and not just a hallucination, or his mind playing tricks on him. He lifted the letter up to his lips and closed his eyes for a moment, clearing his head.

"If things were different, my dear Annora, I would have said yes", he whispered under his breath, his mind going back to that time.

"Sir, it would be better to leave now", the guard came back towards him, causing Charles to shove the paper into his chest pocket, close to his heart, and raise himself up from the wooden chair.

"Yes, I have a different destination in mind though", he announced and the guard nodded, following in his quick steps out of the tavern. They both stepped into the carriage waiting for them outside.

"Where to Sir?"

"Monmouth, I'll give you directions when we get there", he propped his elbow up and gazed out of the small window. "How long will the journey take?"

"We will unfortunately have to stay at an inn for the night, we will arrive in Monmouth about early morning tomorrow", the guard answered.

"It's Tuesday today", he thought whether it was worth it, and whether he had more important issues to sort out. He closed his eyes, imagining all the things he had to get done. But, Annora was his priority now.

"That's fine, let us be off"

"Yes Sir", the horses neighed and began walking through the always busy streets of New York. He will be with her, and he won't get that pest of a boy Connor get in the way, he will not die. Not by his hand.

Later that day

"These muffins of yours are fantastic", he took another one-off the plate. She smiled thankfully, loosening her guard around him once again. Charles used to love them as well she thought for a second before pushing the memories away.

"Thank you, my Father always told me to bake them more often, my whole family liked them, they are made using my secret recipe", she replied quietly, tugging a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Haytham noticed he touched upon a sensitive subject of hers.

"You should share the recipe with me, they would be famous little things back in London", he tried to get off the family subject, which she gladly appreciated.

"No you silly! It wouldn't be secret then would it?"

"Then you'll have to come with me", the words came out before he could stop them, and then realized all the possible outcomes of saying such a thing, consequences he had to accept as he had no ideas for an excuse. She turned her eyes away and an adorable blush came over her cheeks, her lips pursing together, unsure of what to say. She raised herself up and took the empty plates and cups. She turned to him and gazed into his eyes, his expression melting even more. He never enjoyed being with someone as much as he did with her, he had no idea what was going on inside him, but whatever it was he liked it, remembering the last time he felt like this. Ziio.

"I-I may consider that, one day", she muttered quietly. His eyes looked up in surprise, and something lit up inside him, she wanted to. She wanted to go with him.

"I would very much like that Annora", he replied with a smile to die for. Her heart melted and she nearly tripped earning a gasp from him. She quickly regained her balance, not wanting to embarrass herself furthermore, and certainly not wanting to make her reaction as obvious as it already was. A new life in a different country seemed a very adventurous move, especially for an unemployed middle-class woman.

"Please rest Haytham", his name brought his eyes to look up into hers, a worried expression painted all over her face, "It's getting late".

"Will you stay here with me?", he asked. She was stunned by his words again, her heart skipping another beat. The smell of muffins still lingered in the air while the sky dyed itself a deep navy shade, small stars presenting themselves, almost hidden by the few dark clouds that drifted along the horizon.

"Of course, my bed is just there anyway so-"

"With me", he had no idea what he was saying any more. He just went along and probably for the first time in his life he let his heart guide him, instead of his head.

"Pardon?"

"Lay those plates down there", he pointed, she did as she was told, avoiding sparking up some sort of argument, following his orders like a puppet on strings.

"Now come here", he reached his hands out. She followed and sat by his side shifting the weight on the bed. Slightly confused, but as if under a spell, she let him tie his arms around her waist and force her to lay down beside him.

"We can't Haytham", she hastily muttered, heeding her mothers warnings. His power over her was too strong though.

"I'm not asking you for much, just lay by me, like last night".

"I'm only doing this because you're ill and need comfort, right?", she wanted him to agree, freeing her of feeling guilty or dishonored. He saw through her caution and eagerly nodded, smiling and even faking a cough.

"Yes of course", he agreed and coughed again causing her to laugh good-heartedly. His arms were still around her small waist, and she couldn't help but feel as if this happiness of some sort was only temporary, as if he would disappear like her Father did. She shut her eyes shaking her head, while he watched her battle herself in an internal conflict. She eventually sighed, giving into herself, appreciate what is before you before it disappears. And so her small palms landed on his chest, moving just slightly across it, feeling the fine flesh react under her touch-

"Annora", his voice broke her exploration, her cheeks heating up and her heart clenching with embarrassment at what she was letting herself do. She looked up to see his eyes, which now looked considerably darker than before, darker with what seemed to be desire, staring right into hers. She let her own eyes fall to his lips, forgetting everything for a moment. She moved herself upwards slowly, her eyelids hiding her emerald eyes, knowing fully well how much her body, if not her heart, wanted his lips on hers this instant.

"Haytham", her voice was barely a whisper, cut off by his breathing as they neared each other, so close. Too close, but it felt so good to break the rules. To act out of character, out of her shell of loneliness and shyness.

"Haytham", she tried whispering again, but this time only a breath escaped as his lips landed on hers, his eyes closed, hinting satisfaction and his eyebrows furrowing, indicating how he had waited to feel her lips against his. He wanted this since he laid eyes on her last night. But it seemed things were moving too fast, too fast for their own good. He would never do something like this, it was her that affected him so much, that lit something inside him. His lips hastily caressed hers with desperation and passion, passion which she never felt before. She grabbed onto his neck with one hand, and then reached out to tug at his hair as he deepened the kiss even further. This could not be avoided, it would have happened sooner or later, would it not? The trance suddenly broke, her hands landed on his chest again and pushed him away softly, breaking the string of emotions and desires all in a matter of seconds. They stared at each other ambivalently. It was wrong, she felt as if she just grabbed forbidden fruit in handfuls straight off the tree – even if it tasted so wonderfully – 'it was still wrong!' she screamed in her mind. But her heart reacted differently, beating like it never had before, blood rushing up to her cheeks and to parts of the body she never even thought about. She wanted to continue, but she knew she couldn't.

"I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry"

Both of their voices escaped in unison, both of them knowing the apology was a complete lie. If Charles found out he-he would be enraged, and Annora knew that very well, bringing up that old rope of memories from the past. She had no intention of falling for someone after what had happened, especially not someone like Haytham. He was different, he was a respected older gentleman, she wasn't in the right mind to even lay beside him, to even look him in the eyes. But she did it anyway. They stared at each other for a few seconds while she persuaded herself that she was not falling for anyone, she was stronger than that, she would not give in to her mothers words. The words of a woman bound to her husband, forced to give her daughters away to strangers in exchange for land or money. She would never become like that wicked woman, she swore that to herself the day she ran away. But Haytham took control, like men do, he bewitched her, cast some sort of spell. She was already hurt enough before, she didn't want to feel the pain of a broken heart again. But, what if-

"I honestly apologize, it's my fault", Haytham shattered her thoughts, his deep voice suddenly causing her to jump.

"Yes, yes it is", she grasped onto the opportunity to once more feel independent, powerful and replace her guilt with an excuse, that it wasn't her but him. Which somehow gave her no evident satisfaction. He gave her an intrigued glance and then turned his eyes away, no doubt surprised at her reaction.

"Well if you excuse me, I will take up on your previous advice and get some rest"

"Indeed you should, sir"

"And so I will Miss", he got the better of her. She scoffed as she pushed herself from the bed, quickly stepping off it and proceeding to stand on her two feet. The tension of the rather awkward situation could be felt heavily sinking into the surroundings as she moved the armchair away, not turning to give him even one glance, exaggerating her lack of interest and how much she took offence in what had happened, or what he did to her, or rather what he allowed himself to take the blame for. He couldn't help but observe her with a smirk on his face, noticing how obvious her façade was becoming. How she was only pretending, battling with her inner self on whether she lost some of her feminine prowess by giving in to her obvious attraction for him. He chuckled, making fun of her in his own way. 'What a child', the thought crossed his mind, sending down another laugh to escape his lips.

But, she kissed with such haste, such desire. She kissed a stranger, who needed comfort and help. Help which he asked for, even after she expressed how she knew it wasn't right. She was the responsible one, he was the one who led her on, pushed her to take the leap. Maybe it was his fault after all. Guilt tugged at his heart at the realization, especially as he noticed how her eyes caught his while he was openly laughing at her, despite not even guessing how difficult it was for her, how grave a mistake it was for her. Her eyes quickly looked away while she took the empty stack of plates from the small wooden table, her expression hurt and sinking lower and lower to the floor. He really is a tyrant, the guilt clenching his heart even more, this might have been nothing to him considering how many women he has romanced with during his years but she, she was but a young maiden, in her what? Middle twenties? This was an actual leap of faith for her, kissing a stranger, maybe even going further minding how eagerly she responded. He could have taken advantage of the situation, taken her then and there, she was strong enough to resist her own desires, unlike him.

He covered his face with his hands, immersing himself in his own lack of compassion and utter idiocy, as she walked away. A tear stinging her eye, desperate to escape, followed by many more as she entered the kitchen. He mocked her, openly and without control or remorse, probably thinking how easy she was to lead on, how she would have eagerly given herself away like her whore of a mother. Just like her. She placed the plates on the wooden table by the fireplace, feeling the urge to smash them one by one. Her hand grasped for her forehead as a strike of pain hit her head. Another migraine? She sat on a wooden stool by the table and chucked down a glass of water, deciding on getting out of her house as fast as she could. Anywhere away from here was fine, anywhere away from him. That devil of a man. The man she could not help but think about every second since he arrived, his body, his expressions, the way he spoke, the person he was and his past. Everything invited her in like never before, never-mind Charles whom she thought she loved dearly, Haytham was making her go insane. What would happen if he stayed another day, another week or even month, she can't last two days without throwing herself at him, deceiving herself that it was just because he was ill, in need of comfort.

She slammed the door shut and stepped into the darkness of the evening, outside onto the pebble-stoned path. The sharp air immediately hit her burning cheeks, she reached her hands out grasping for it, as if it would save her. She ran across the path to the sea of trees surrounding the area. Monmouth, her home, it would not be the same now that he was here. The 'Grandmaster of the Templar's', she didn't realize before but with him, trouble was sure to follow. If he and Charles were targets, would she become one now? A sudden fear came over her and now even the trees which seemed to be following her caused her to tremble and stand still in caution. It would be a matter of days at most for the killer to find her home, to hurt her, to hurt Charles or to finish Haytham off. She didn't want that, she didn't want them getting hurt, she didn't want him to get hurt. Despite Haytham's behavior, he did not deserve to die. But he would eventually, she had no way of countering a killer, she would never be able to fight. She sat down slowly and cautiously, gazing around before adjusting herself against the tree trunk. As if waiting for the murderer to jump down from the skies and rid her of her short life. A sudden crack filled the still air, and her heart beat literally stopped for a second, she clenched her cheap cotton dress in shock. Noticing it was just a twig, her breathing resumed, but her senses were still alert. She felt silly, even stupid for going out in the evening like that. If Haytham was here-

"No, he would not even care if something happened to me", but then she thought again, and the question ripped at her heart. "Or would he?", she rested her head against her arms, sighing heavily. "Probably because he is well-mannered he would care for any woman, any damsel in distress", her hand ripped out a nearby patch of grass, rubbing it in-between her fingers hopelessly. "Or because he's in my debt", she felt a cold tear escape her eye despite her protest. "Damn you Haytham", she cursed him for making her feel this way, for always being on her mind, in her thoughts. In her heart, her weak and fragile heart, hidden away under her obvious and fake mask, failing to protect her like she thought it would. It was all too late now.

Too late to fall out of this mess.

His eyes could not shut and fall asleep like he was urging them to, he fell victim to human weakness. To emotions and compassion. To guilt and lust. Insatiable and ever-growing lust.

"Wicked woman", he muttered. Haytham could no longer wait for her, she decided to go on an evening stroll while his son lurks about God knows where searching for him. And now that she's involved, she'll become a victim as well. And that's the thing that eats at him the most, a young – rather beautiful – woman getting hurt all for unknowingly aiding a Templar, being a good and helpful person without desiring anything in return. Suffering because of him. He could stand it no longer and was now deciding whether to take the risk and go out looking for her, his legs were not injured, he could move, however he was very weak and would most likely collapse. But – he knew he would take the risk for her, she saved his life. It was her that allowed him to continue what he had hoped to achieve in America. Even if he failed, he was alive, there was a chance to reconcile the situation if he explained himself to the Templar's back in London. Suddenly he heard the heavy wooden doors downstairs creak open and shut. He prayed that it was her, that he did not have to go out wandering around this unknown area searching for her, her limp and lifeless body God forbid. He quickly dismissed the idea, his heart somehow clenching with joy at her safe arrival. He decided to pretend he was asleep, as to not get into another argument of some sort, and actually let her rest for once, she was, after all, busy taking care of him all day. He heard a few more steps downstairs, he could imagine her curvy figure moving around, doing what not. She was the most beautiful woman he has ever seen-

"Must keep quiet", he heard her whisper to herself as she made her way upstairs, falling for his act and thinking he was asleep. He could sense her scent, fresh from the forest, pass by him as she softly sat down of her own bed, opposite from his.

"I hope he's okay", another whisper. After all he has done, she still has the heart to worry about his well-being? A heart of forgiveness.

I'm all out of forgiveness, father.

He heard the bed creak under her weight as she laid down, her breathing slow and calm. He turned in the bed for the sake of it and easily gained his ounce of satisfaction when she froze, afraid to wake him up by accident. He smiled as he saw her small form, covered in the thin sheets, in the faint light that was coming from the large and dreamy moon outside. Now that she was here, he felt a weight lifted from his heart and his whole tensed up body relaxed, allowing him to finally get some sleep without worrying sick for her safety. He let out a relieved sigh and looked at her for a few more seconds before falling asleep, hoping that he can reconcile with her and have a chance to apologize, or rather, have the courage to honestly say sorry.

What will Haytham do? Please review + favorite + follow (if you haven't already) and of course correct me if I made any mistakes ^^''

Thank you for reading, till next time my friends! :)