Hi!

I've got some spare time so I've decided to update as much as I can! ;D Hope you like the upcoming chapters.

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

Ann and Connor both find themselves unable to sleep, while Connor decides to never give up on the girl he waited for.

Enjoy! ^^

XVII

'When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it.'

The night went by sleepless for both Ann and Connor. The woman got up several times, wandering over to the window and looking out into the forest outside. She hoped Haytham had a better night than her, that he rested and got his strength back so they could travel to London. The house was cold, the breeze outside clear with the shaking and waning of the trees outside, their leaves an array of shades, from the summer-like greens to dying reds and oranges, autumn winds taking the dry victims in their stride. She watched and watched, imagining if the view would be the same in England, or if the city lacked the charm the forests she learned to love and explore throughout the years had. Of course, every new destination had its own charms, and a city crowded with people, young and old, poor and rich, going about their everyday lives, surely had an air of its own.

Suddenly, she heard a soft knock, coming from the white door. She quickly made her way to the source and grasped the handle, gently opening it, as if a stranger was waiting outside, her glance wary, confused, was Connor awakened by her?

"I'm sorry if I woke you, I just can't seem to get any shut-eye tonight," she said quietly.

He smiled and shook his head in his usual, youthful, fashion.

"You didn't, I can't sleep either, it must be the weather."

"You sound like an old man when you speak such superstitions," she replied, and they both laughed in unison, but very calmly and with slight awkwardness.

"I do don't I?" He admitted rhetorically and she let out another quiet chuckle. "I wanted to check up on you, see if you were cold or anything, but I guess instead we are both suffering from insomnia."

"Yes, we must be. Well, thank you for your kindness, it is quite chilly actually and I've tried wrapping myself in sheets and quilts but nothing seems to be working. Nothing we can do about it unfortunately."

They stared at each other in spite of the darkness that surrounded them, while she wished she could see the expression on his face and whether a smile or a frown played on his lips.

"I've lit the fireplace in my room, do you want to warm yourself up?"

It seemed more like a command than a suggestion, and Ann hated to refuse such an offer when hairs were already rising on her skin and her hands clenched in an attempt to create some friction and heat, her body shivering as if she stood in the winter snow.

"If you don't mind me..."

"Of course not, please, feel free," he cut her off and she heard him step to the side, allowing her to walk the short distance to his own room, which was lit up by the fire, letting her see how finely it was furnished and how much space it had. She ran towards the flames, kneeling down and reaching her palms out to warm the frozen skin just like she did hours before downstairs. Except at that moment she was even colder than before.

The door creaked shut along with the polished floorboards as Connor reached the king sized bed he had all for himself, sitting on the corner of the mattress, taking hold of one of the banisters that held the canopy together. He watched the girl, her hair falling down her back in loose, glowing, curls. She trembled, and she turned towards him, unintentionally, not realising he was sat there with his eagle eyes on her. Their eyes met and he just smiled.

"Thank you for letting me warm up, hopefully I'll be feeling sleepy now."

"You're retiring to your room, knowing it will be cold and dark, yet you still do it."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"Stay here, by the fire, I will sleep in your room. You can take my bed and warm up, you still look like you're ice-cold."

"No Connor, I can't throw you out of your own room, that would be wrong of me..."

"I don't mind, you'll fall ill if you're not careful, I don't want that to happen."

"Are you sure?"

"I will be fine, I'll keep my eye on you if I don't fall asleep alright?"

"Wait," she muttered and he stopped, his hand beginning to sweat in anticipation of what she was about to say. But the hope diminished as soon as it came. "I'm really sorry about everything, I'm sorry for running away, for being a coward."

"There's no need to apologise," Connor shook his head, feeling like a fool for hoping once again for an ounce of her affections. "I've made mistakes that led to this as well. I just wish I had a second chance to make up for them."

She watched him then, and when she looked long enough she saw his resemblance to Haytham. His skin was darker and in some areas more toned, as he was of course much younger. His stomach flexed as he was sitting down and for a moment she couldn't help but feel some natural attraction towards him. After another moment she took a breath and spoke out, "all of us want a second chance."

"I wonder if Father would have wanted another chance if he still lived," Connor murmured and let out a sigh. "How can he make up for all the pain he inflicted on so many people though?"

"Sometimes we inflict pain because we feel it ourselves, and have no other way."

Connor nodded and glanced into her eyes again, she smiled briefly before turning to the fire, hearing the bed creak as the man jumped off it. She heard footsteps and then felt as he neared her. He kneeled behind her, watching the fire as it sparked and grew, just like what he felt for her when she spoke so softly. He reached his fingertips out and ran them through her loose strands of hair, tenderly, as if she wouldn't notice. Her eyes closed and she wished she could free Connor from the burden he carried because of her.

"You are certainly the kind of person my Father would despise."

Ann gasped and felt something jump in her chest, the words stabbing her and sending an uncomfortable shiver down her skin.

"He hated the weak, those who believed in the truth or those that sought it out. He would never admit his wrong-doings, he would believe in his order even in his final moments."

"He would despise me because I would open his eyes?"

"Yes, it is as you say. He was always a lone wolf, and it must have hurt him. So he tried to pass the pain onto others, hoping to rid himself of such a human weakness. If you told him the truth that he already knew of, he would despise you."

"But how can you be so sure?"

"I'm not. I'm only making assumptions based on what I've seen him do. On what he was capable of doing. I doubt he ever had the potential to change."

Those words hurt Ann, she never saw Haytham from such a perspective, it was a collective opinion, that everyone except her, had of the Templar. What hurt even more was the possibility that if she went against Haytham's ideals, told him the truth or tried to change him, he would want to get rid of her. The risk was there, but did she fear it? She wasn't one to stay silent, but she wasn't planning on hurting him. Was he only treating her the way he did because she was the only one left? If they left for London, what would become of her?

"I miss my Father," she only whispered half-heartedly, not knowing what to say. She crossed her arms and felt a tear slip from her lashes, bowing her head to the flames as she realised the possibility that she was only a puppet in Haytham's game. That he was using her in order to return to the Templar's in England. That as long as she did what he wanted, she would be of use to him. Connor watched her tremble and pressed his palm to her back, running it up until he felt the top of her spine, his eyes looking away as he was under the impression that she was weeping for her Father and not for the truth that she was up against.

"Ann," he whispered back, moving his hand along to her shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. She didn't reply, but reached out to wipe away the oncoming tears that were forming in her eyes. She shook her head softly and let out a small chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I'll be fine Connor, don't worry about me."

"How can I not?" He asked and waited, hearing the silence she turned around and caught his intense gaze, his pained eyes and furrowed brows. "How can I not worry for the one woman who I love?"

She looked at the man for a second more before she diverted her eyes to the floorboards below, feeling as his warmth neared her skin as he leaned in. She knew what he wanted to do. She lived through too much to not know where such contact was going. She reached her hand out and rested it on his chest, trying to push him away. He was determined to change her mind though, seeing how she needed comfort and attention, seeing how she longed for someone. Where was her someone when she needed him the most? Connor felt the skin of her smooth cheek as he caught the edge of her lips with his own, his palm already attempting to bring her closer by caressing said cheek, his thumb brushing the tender skin below her eye, a remainder of her tears left behind.

She refused to give in though and shook her head softly, struggling to stop herself from letting him embrace her.

"Why do you resist?" His voice was deep, profound, at that moment reminding her of his Father.

"I promised him," she breathed heavily against his lips as her palm felt his skin react under her touch, his chest rising and falling as he was unable to stop his overtaking desire for her.

"Promised him what? That you'll be faithful to someone who isn't even here with you? Who hasn't got the strength to protect you?"

"You don't understand, I can't betray his trust, he is a hurt man already. He has no one, except me. I can't do this."

"Don't abandon me, don't lie to yourself!" He said and lifted her face to look into her eyes, teary and burnished with a melancholy of emotions. She pushed his touch away with her free hand, but he only took it as an invitation and leaned in, tilting his head as he grabbed said hand, freeing it for a second before taking hold of her wrist. He feathered his lips across her own, closing his eyes in hopes that she would submit to his will.

"I can't," her voice was weak and breathless, he was so much stronger, and his eyes burned only with an unexplainable desperation. "Please stop."

He didn't listen though, and she gasped when he quickly took over her lips with his own, kissing her with a forced fury, without mercy. She didn't respond though, refusing to love another man more than she loved Haytham, refusing to betray him like everyone else had. Noticing, Connor broke the contact and pushed himself away from her, seeing the fear in her eyes. "Why?" He asked suddenly, crawling away from her before stopping and pressing his palm to his temple in annoyance, "why can't you just do what I want you to do? Why can't I find the strength to continue? Why can't you love me?"

"I have already submitted to one man Connor, he's using me, he might even hate me, and damn me to hell, but I love and cherish him above my own life."

"No! I won't let you be used, who is the bastard? I'll kill him," Connor's voice resounded through the walls and he suddenly got up. She immediately jumped to her feet though and grabbed his arm with both of her hands, stopping him.

"Connor calm down, don't act like this, this isn't you, you're not a killer."

"The hell do you know?" He pushed her away and sent her a wary glance, "who is he?"

"I can't tell you."

"Do it! I won't ask a second time."

"Stop it!" She shouted, "you're acting just like Lee."

There was a silence that hung in the air, a deadly tension spreading around them. Connor turned to look at the woman in surprise, she stood tall with her hands clenched into fists, but her eyes contrasted with the strength she tried to put on. She was horrified, the past haunting her again. Yet she never expected Connor to act like the man he himself hunted for all those years.

It happened so long ago. But the memory never faded away.

"Who is he? Tell me you pathetic girl!"

"Charles stop, please..."

"You think you can get rid of me so easily? I won't ask a second time, who is the boy you saw in the forest?"

"I don't know, he only helped me when I got lost."

"Remember who you're promised to Ann, I don't care whether you're still a child or whether you've realised you should be a mature adult now, but when I ask, you answer!"

"I don't know him, he looked like one of the natives we saw that one time, I don't know where he came from or his name, he didn't speak."

"You will pay for such lies, you wretched pest!"

She took a breath and pressed her knuckles to her lips, gritting her teeth, struggling to keep those painful memories away. Connor watched as she trembled and realised how sensitive she was to such situations, he was the one who saved her from Lee after all.

"Ann..."

"I'm sorry Connor, I shouldn't have compared you to him, you're nothing like him."

"I shouldn't have acted like that though, it was wrong of me, forgive me."

"Don't worry... I should get some rest."

"You remembered though, I made you remember that time."

"Yes, the time when he questioned me about you."

"We met in the forest before did we not? You got lost and I guided you home."

"I should have known he was after your people."

"You never told him my name though, or where I came from. You lied to him and risked yourself for me, and I will never forget that. That's probably why it's so hard for me to let go of you," he explained and walked up to her, cautiously.

"I could never pronounce your name," she smiled then, with fondness in her eyes instead of the fear that was present in them before. "I never let you go Connor, since the time I saw you. Now though, you must accept that I am letting you go. And you must too."

"I love you Ann," he said simply, "I won't let that feeling leave, not like this."

"You will live with the pain Connor."

"I know."

She nodded as he walked over to the door and opened it. He gave her another warming glance before disappearing, shutting the door after him. She lingered by the fire for a few moments more before climbing the bed in hopes of keeping warm. She snuggled into the warmth, hugging her knees, covering herself in the various quilts Connor had. She felt awkward, lying in the bed he was in before, remains of his heat still present on the feather-filled pillows. It was better, safer, with the fire, knowing Connor was nearby. Since seizing to live alone, the woman hated loneliness itself and craved some sort of company no matter where she went. It was why she stopped Connor from leaving. Otherwise she ended up feeling lost and vulnerable. Just like she felt when Father died. Then she thought of Haytham, his smile and his impeccable eyes, inviting her in, telling her that she will be safe with him by her side. Even if everything she was to him was a lie. Even if she meant nothing in his wonderful and Templar-filled world. Despite it all, he still said those words. He still suggested there was something more.

"Don't question my feelings for you, they won't change."

"Ann... Remember that you're mine."

Her eyes closed and sleep settled onto her, quickly taking its toll when her breathing slowed once she fell into a deep, dream-filled, slumber.

After a while in Ann's room, pondering about all that she said and how he behaved towards her, Connor silently returned to his room, closing the door with utmost care, discovering the girl's form already asleep. He approached the fire, pouring some water that he had in a jug on the flames until they died down and ceased into only ash and burnt wood. He opened a window to let the remaining smoke out, watching Ann from the distance, her shoulders rising as she breathed in the fresh air. Knowing the cold breeze would have woke her, Connor bolted the window shut and stepped over to get a closer look as she turned in her silent sleep, onto the other shoulder, her face nuzzling into the surface of the velvet pillow, her body curled into a ball underneath the sheets. He cautiously moved the remaining bedding away and climbed onto the soft embroidered mattress cover, resting on his side in order to face the woman beside him. He shuffled as close to her as possible, feeling her warm breath against his neck, her expression peaceful and relaxed. He reached his hand out, resting it on her shoulder, she didn't flinch or wake, so he moved an inch or two closer than before. When that didn't get a reaction out of her sleeping body, he leaned in, moving until he could rest his chin on her head, feeling as her legs pressed against his, her hand against his chest. In turn he tied his arm around her waist, pushing her softly towards his body, until he felt her clothed bust rub against his own, her nose in the crook of his neck, and he felt the closest he had ever been to her, remembering the precious moments during which they kissed, her neck was heavenly, her skin burning under his touch.

He despised the truth, despite standing for it the whole of his life, hating when he had to lie to the people of Boston, to himself. During those moments with Ann he hated the one ideal that led him to take the path he did, because it kept him away from the woman he wanted. The truth that she loved another, the truth that he could never kiss her like that again, taste her lips or the scented surface of her skin. He could never again run his hands through her silky hair, see her smile or laugh, even if it was a forceful smile or an awkward chuckle.

His palm found her curls, running his fingertips through the strands tenderly. A part of him wanted her to wake at that moment and take back all that she said, instead choosing him, giving herself to him, saying she loved him instead. Even though it was impossible. Above all though, he admired her devotion to whoever was waiting for her back home. Maybe that devotion kept her strong, maybe it was the same kind of devotion his Father had for the Templar's.

He heard the bed creak quietly as her legs straightened against his own, and he suddenly saw her hand moving in the darkness, looking for someone to hold onto. So he reached his other hand out, letting her grasp at it with both of her desperate palms. They were still slightly cold, seeking the comfort of his burning heat. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, moving stray hairs behind her ear with his free hand, and let his lips travel to her cheek, his body moving along until he was eye-level with her. His lips then found the corner of her own, until he took her bottom lip with his, his hand unintentionally pushing her onto her back so he could see her better. His hand let her palms go and he pushed himself up onto his elbow, supporting his weight as he hovered over her, her chest rising in silent and heavy breaths. Her skin was a pure ivory, her cheeks scarlet as if she was blushing while her hands rested by her sides, fingers curling inwards, still in a deep dream. He knew she would leave soon, she wanted to go back to the man she loved, but then why did she go to him in the first place? What if her lover was incapable of protecting her? What if she was making a mistake... What did Connor not possess that the man she so deeply cared for did? He leaned in and kissed her, deeply and without second thought, without control. His hand caressed her side, tightening his grip on her body as he began to lose control, suddenly breaking the kiss at just the right moment. Her breaths had to catch up, while he sat up quickly, not wanting to be caught in the act, how far would he have gone? She was on the verge of waking, so for a moment he maintained a silence, hushing his own breaths. He wasn't usually so feverish, but then again he didn't usually lust after a woman so strongly. If his mother was still around maybe she would have advised him, or if his Father was a normal one, he would have helped him through it. It was childish, but he needed help, he obsessed over the woman to such an extent as to wanting to take her in her sleep. He pressed his hand to his temple in agony and regret, it felt so right, but lacked something important. It lacked her. It was as if he was kissing an inanimate object, forcefully as well, as she had no idea what he was doing to her. She didn't want it. She didn't want him.

He heard her breath quicken and then heard soft whimpers, turning to see her head move from side to side, as if she had a bad dream. But then the sounds changed, and she no longer seemed upset, but rather pleased, letting out a sigh, and speaking unrecognisable words, at first very quietly. Then she spoke up, and the words that he heard shocked him to the core, so much that he was unable to comprehend who she was or what she was hiding. She was mysterious, secretive, but to what extent?

"Haytham..," she said, her voice silky, as if she was begging for something. That name. The name that haunted the native for all of his life. Spoken by the one woman he thought was free of any relation to his Father, the one woman he thought he trusted despite her slight coldness towards him. He gasped, she said it only once, in such a voice, such a fruity and husky voice. He felt completely betrayed, still going through all the possibilities, that there was someone else with the same name, that she must have heard or read it somewhere and it must have engraved itself in her memory. And then he wondered if he had the courage to ask her about it the next day, if she would be angry that he laid beside her, if she lied or told the truth about who she really was. There was much more to Ann than he thought, she was hiding something, something that he felt if he found out, would forever change him, and break his heart all at once. It was impossible, it meant his Father was not at all as dead as he thought him to be.

To Connor, it was supposed to be impossible... The dead don't return.

More chapters coming soon! :) Please leave a review/fave/follow if you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you! ^^

Till next time!

AssassinSuzy