Hello!

A/N: Here's another chapter! :)

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

The Templars are in the way of Haytham's plans...

Enjoy! ^^

XXVII

'The world is more complicated than most dare admit.'

Later that day…

Ann sat still in the chair, resting her arms on the surface of the oak desk with a bored expression painting her features. She was waiting for Haytham in his study for the past half hour, it was where Julie told her to go since the lesson was to be started soon. Soon. Julie's interpretation of soon must have meant about an hour, since there was no trace of life since she arrived. The desk wasn't wide but rather long and could have easily welcomed more than the three of them, it was rather like a meeting room than a private study in all honesty. Ann stared with intensity at the bookshelf opposite her, several unknown titles piled on top of one another.

She had no idea how to act around Haytham any more, every single little interaction soon enough led to either an argument or embracing, kissing and even lovemaking. What was she becoming? She sighed heavily, wanting the day to be over already. Suddenly the door on the other end of the room popped open, and she immediately stood up, straightening her back and pushing stray hairs away from her face, feeling awkward as she knew she must have looked messy. She didn't change her dress either, so she didn't look all that formal nor prepared, even though she was in her own home. Haytham walked in, noticing her standing there like a soldier on patrol, and smiled fondly, taking the seat beside her, to her own surprise. Germain followed after him and closed the door, turning and catching Ann's eyes as she herself turned to bow her head at him. He approached the table and did the same.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Ann."

She didn't reply, instead hastily sat down and turned the page in her journal, grabbing her quill with her right palm, as if attempting to hide something. Indeed she was attempting to write another letter to Connor, but the thought of her conversation with Julie kept creeping back into her mind like an uninvited guest. She just couldn't focus at all. She noticed Haytham give the signal for the Frenchman to take a seat opposite them, and he did so reluctantly, for a second thinking he would be able to sit next to the girl. Ann watched Haytham from the corner of her eye, the man was restraining himself from showing any affection towards her like he would always do, he probably wanted to talk things over, ask her about what she was doing, thinking, wanting. She just imagined, at least tried to imagine, what he might have been thinking himself. Maybe he wanted to let her know that everything was alright, she hoped Julie told the man her troubles and persuaded him to talk to her about it, but on second thought Ann realised it was impossible for the maid to do such a thing. She valued her profession over personal feelings, so she would never try to undermine the man who paid her wage by telling him of such issues.

"I'm glad Ann could join us, Master Kenway," Germain said after another moment, directing their attention to him.

"Yes, she might do so from now on," he replied, then gazed back at the papers he readied on the table as well as various diagrams, texts, notes and even books, everything seemingly related to the Templar Order. He looked to Ann for a moment, "the lessons will take place thrice a week."

"I see," was all she could muster in response.

"Today I'll be going through the core teachings and principles of our Order. I've got a few texts I want you to read and make notes on," he quickly explained and handed out the said texts. Ann looked through the sheets of paper, sighing as quietly as she could. There was no need for her to learn such things, she was not planning on becoming a Templar. It would go against her principle of not joining any Order at all and just living a normal life. Was Haytham trying to convince her otherwise? As Germain was doing the set task with incredible diligence, she took her time and glanced Haytham's way a few times, trying to get his attention in one way or another. But the man looked incredibly lost in thought, as if he was trying to remember something, so she gave up soon enough and began to carefully write out several passages from the text that stood out to her.

After a while Haytham began to watch her, her pale fingers as they traced the letters with such precision and delicacy, her eyes as they slowly read over each paragraph, even her lips as she bit down on them, attempting to focus or her brows as they furrowed when she struggled to understand one part or another. The epiphany in her eyes shone when she softly smiled, evidently satisfied with something she had read. She looked like a young student, she looked like him when he was training under his own Father. Except she was his lover, and she never wanted to become a Templar. So what in the world was he making her do there and then? There was no other way, she had to accept what he was offering her, redemption. Redemption from her past, the Templars were her future, he couldn't see any other future for her other than by his side, both of them part of the same order, he finally the Grand Master and her his wife. It was all up to the Templars, he himself had no choice in any matter, but he had no idea how to tell her the truth. The truth of what he learned in the meeting that very morning.

Earlier that morning…

"Grand Master, may I speak with you, please."

"Haytham! Yes of course, is there an issue?" The older man asked as they both got up from their respective seats.

"Anne, the girl I was with at the soiree, I would like to ask what you thought of her."

"She was a lovely woman, she looked splendid… I admit, if only I was years younger," he said and then began to laugh. Haytham tried to join in, but he wanted to get to the point rather than make a joke out of everything he had planned to say. "Is something the matter?"

"I know that in confidence I am able to tell you anything, Grand Master."

"Yes, yes you can, but what is it?"

"Anne is currently my Mistress… She and I…"

"Are you not too old to be getting married Haytham?"

"Pardon?"

"I was only jesting… You're not planning to wed her though, are you?"

"Grand Master, I actually am planning to, and I want to know whether I require permission from the Order to do so. She is a woman who has no family connections, fortunes or titles…"

"I would rather be worried about her Father once being an Assassin."

"That is not a problem, I've made sure of it."

"There is a large age difference between you, is there not? Have you thought about the effect this marriage might have upon your own status in society, about your status within the Order?"

"Yes, that is why I've come to you for advice," Haytham replied, slightly agitated.

"You can't marry her until she becomes a Templar," the older man quickly stated without a second thought, as if it was of no importance to him.

"But she does not desire to become part of any Order."

"Then you have to get rid of her, she might be young and beautiful, but if she brings nothing whatsoever into the Order, you cannot afford to risk your rank for something as meaningless as love."

"I never said I loved her..," Haytham retorted, and then turned away, ashamed. How could he say that? He didn't mean it… Of course he didn't, or else it would mean he took advantage of her for some reason all along, which he never planned to. He questioned his feelings, he did because he never felt so strongly for another person, but he couldn't just deny the strong possibility that he loved her, all because he was speaking to the Grand Master, it wasn't right. He felt like such a bastard at that moment. He turned to face his superior when the latter took a breath and began to speak again.

"Then why on earth would you just marry her like that? If the marriage is not for your own benefit, or out of love in the least, then what is the point of letting her be your Mistress? You shouldn't have Mistresses anyway Haytham, it's bad for your reputation."

"No, I didn't mean to say it like that… I think I love her, I'm just not sure."

"I thought someone of your age would be sure by now, Haytham. One way or another, either she appears before us to be initiated in the next few weeks or so, or you will not become Grand Master once I retire and will be excommunicated from the Order."

"What? Those conditions are outrageous!" Haytham raised his voice slightly, "other members of the Order are lawfully married to women who have nothing to do with the Order."

"Do not question us!" The man broke in, his brows furrowed with annoyance at the slightly younger Templar's defiance. "We have high hopes for you Haytham, with everything you have achieved in America and your authority here, we are ready to pass on the leadership to you when I am unable to fulfill my function any longer. Do not thwart your opportunities for one weak and young woman. I know you mean well, but this certainly stands in your way and is just a mild distraction which you can easily get rid of. After all, you never know when she might decide to follow in her Father's steps."

"What if she refuses to become one of us? I can't throw her out on the streets like that."

For a moment the older man's eyes shone, as if he just received a revelation, and he grabbed Haytham by the arms, suddenly his anger turning into joy. "Marry her off to Germain… Or Cormac, or any Templar really. Then she will be married, she will have a name, status, maybe even fortune, and she will then be worthy of being your Mistress."

"But that will be adultery, isn't it illegal?"

"Not when it's supported by the Order."

"I don't know, I guess I'll have to convince her to become a Templar. There's no other way, and I'm certainly not marrying her off to another man. She is not a thing to be played around with, she has feelings for me, and… I will not do it."

"Think it all over Haytham, she would lead a good life and you would become Grand Master, isn't that everything you want? It's either her or your rank, so choose wisely."

"Haytham," Ann whispered as she noticed that for the first time said man's mind was in a different place altogether. She reached out then to place her palm on his hand, and he snapped back to reality, quickly gazing her way. His eyes looked surprised, but then softened when they focused on her own. He then looked around, noticing the Frenchman was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Germain?"

"He's gone to get Julie to bring tea. I offered to do it, but he so gallantly refused my request."

"I see…"

"Is everything alright? You look tired," she murmured and squeezed his ageing hand. He looked like he had enough for one day, and she wasn't making it any better when she kept mentioning Penelope and complaining about literally every little thing that she didn't like.

"Ann, do you regret leaving America?" He asked softly, "do you regret giving yourself to me? Do you regret everything?"

He noticed her lips part, her eyes clouded with confusion as she wrinkled her nose a bit at him, unsure of why in the world he would ask her such questions. "I don't..," she paused, and then looked away momentarily, evidently collecting her thoughts, before catching his watchful gaze again, "why would you ask that?" She replied, "you know I don't regret anything."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I just wanted to know how you feel."

"You know how I feel better than I do," she replied, her eyes catching the lit candle, it's flame dancing slowly and calmly. He watched as she leaned forward and rested her cheek in her palm, leaning to the side as her other hand reached out to almost touch the flame, her fingertips inches away. He questioned whether she was right in that aspect. He did know her so well; her movement, her body, her feelings, her behaviour, how peaceful she looked when she slept, how she frowned when they argued or how she loved his warmth when he embraced her and whispered apologies in her ear. They were closer than ever, Ann behaved as if she was completely aware that they were lovers. In a way they were, but the whole time it was just a secret they shared. If he didn't love her, he wouldn't have allowed her to behave in such a way, to be aware of such a well-guarded secret. He was worried about her well-being, about what she thought of him, about her future in England. Would it have been better had they stayed in America? There she wasn't bound by rules, by society's strict agenda for it's higher class members. By the Templar's agenda. He too would have been free from them. Yet despite it all, despite serving the Order for most of his life, he couldn't let them go, he couldn't let his thirst for power go. All this time he knew a day would come when he would have to choose between his longing for the woman that saved him, cared for him with no pretence, then so quickly got attached to him and started to love him with her whole being, and his own life, his power and his authority, and his fate of being a Templar.

"I wish I could give you the freedom to do what you desire Ann, I wish I could give you everything you want, but I can't."

"But I have used my freedom Haytham," she said, still watching the flame and carefully warming her fingers, "my freedom led me here, with you."

"I'm glad you have such an impression of freedom. I'm glad you're not corrupted, like everyone else I have met in this city."

"Haytham… Who is Shay Cormac?"

The man suddenly looked at her, noticing her gaze was still fixated on the flame.

"He is just another Templar, as I have pointed out already."

"Why did you throw him out like that? Who is he?"

"He was one of my associates in America."

"I thought Connor killed all of them?"

"No. Not him. He went away before it all started, I haven't seen him for years."

"I see."

"You don't have to worry yourself with him."

She got up from the chair, startling him slightly, "I'm off to find Francois, he's been gone for long, maybe he got lost."

"Okay," was all he could muster as she slowly walked towards the door, opening it, as he palm rested against the cold wooden doorway, she looked back, discovering the man to be still watching her, with a certain peace and patience in his eyes. She sent him a soft smile and then disappeared swiftly and quietly.

Haytham took the opportunity to take a glimpse of her notes, her handwriting was incredibly neat and formal, but the notes didn't exactly tie in with the content of the so-called lesson he was giving to her and Francois. Instead it seemed she was writing out her thoughts instead, a letter of some kind, addressed to him.

My beloved,

If you know how much I crave for your kindness, your attention, your gaze and your lips, and most importantly, your love, then why won't you let me know what you feel? I don't want to be a Templar nor an Assassin, I never wanted to be part of this mess, I just wanted to be with you. That is my purpose, I care not for freedom, order or a New World. You are my only world, which with you in it, is already beyond perfect…

The letter ended there, seemingly unfinished. It appeared to be a mere draft, something she never actually planned to send, just something she felt and wanted to get out of her mind. He pursed his lips, eyes tracing over the text again and again. He never knew anyone had the capability to feel towards him in such a way, he never knew he would read such poetic and painfully honest words, words which were directed towards him and no one else.

Then suddenly the door burst open and Francois made an entrance, looking around the room and only noticing Haytham sitting in his usual spot, Ann's parchment in hand, his eyes catching the intruder as if he was caught in an act of some kind.

"Where the hell were you?" Haytham asked, his voice hinting at his annoyance clearly.

"I went to ask the maid to prepare some tea, you were there when I left, evidently in a world of your own though," he replied nonchalantly.

"Ann went out to look for you, what took so long? You're disrupting the lesson."

"Isn't that lovely of her?"

"I don't think you exactly know who you're dealing with here, Francois. I think some respect is due, for the both of us."

"I know she is your Mistress, Master Kenway."

Haytham looked up at him again, his eyes half-closed in a glare. "What?"

"The Grand Master told me, and I indeed must say I would take the woman as my wife any day…"

"You know nothing!" Haytham shouted, and then grunted, trying to calm himself, "you don't know her at all, all you judge upon is her appearance. I would never allow her to wed you. Never."

"Harsh words indeed Master Kenway, but if you don't find someone, or turn her into a Templar soon enough, that decision will not be for you to make anymore. And from the way she acts, it doesn't seem like she's Templar material."

"That is not for you to decide," Haytham spat out and then looked away in disgust, "you are dismissed for today, I don't want to see a bastard like you walking around my Manor, don't bother coming this week either, we'll properly start lessons next week. Without Ann."

"As you wish, Master Kenway," Francois agreed with a small smile on his lips, evidently untouched by Haytham's words and his anger. He stood in the door the whole time, expecting the reaction at the words he dared to utter to a man who could have killed him there and then.

"Excuse me," a small mutter came from behind him, and he moved to see Ann standing there, tapping her foot against the floorboards expectedly, holding a platter of filled tea cups and cakes in her hands. He let out an annoyed grunt and brushed past her, not even bothering to bid them a farewell. She sighed and walked inside, kicking the door closed with her foot as she balanced the tray on her palms. Haytham quickly rose to shuffle along to her, taking the silverware from her with care.

"Thanks," she whispered as he put everything on the small table. "Did you say something to him? He looked like he was about to skin you."

"Nothing really, don't worry, I got rid of him for this week. I'll be giving you private lessons. It was a bad decision to let that rat be in the same room with you in the first place. Hopefully he will leave for France soon," he replied as she put the tiny porcelain plate before him, stacking the cup of tea on top. She did the same for herself and then sat beside him, reaching out to hold the cup by it's ear and pressing it to her lips, sipping slowly at the still hot green tea. He watched her and his gaze momentarily softened. Her eyes skimmed over the table as she was about to grab a slice of sponge cake but stopped at the parchment she wrote on earlier, which was now resting on Haytham's side of the table. She carefully placed the cup back on the plate and then looked at him, her eyes slightly worried.

"You read it, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did, I wanted to read over your notes from the lesson. Notes which weren't exactly there."

"I'm sorry. You must think me to be… Peculiar… Or something," she murmured, her cheeks heating as she realised that everything she wrote was complete honesty, things she wanted to say to him but could never find the courage to.

"No," he said, taking her slightly shaken hand from the table into his own. "I'm glad I had the chance to read those words Ann, now I know."

"Haytham…"

"Kiss me Ann," he whispered and suddenly moved her chair to the side, looking her straight in the eyes, her lips parting in surprise as he leaned in closer to her, his palms resting on the arms of the chair as he trapped her. He furrowed his brows while she felt his breath not that far away from the almost scalded surface of her lips, "I don't say it, I know I don't, but don't consider me to be an idiot," he uttered with a tinge of animosity in his voice, as if he was struggling with something and couldn't sort it out. "Don't you think I ponder every day over my feelings for you. Hell, I don't know what I feel, I never had anyone express such kindness, such longing for me. I may be old now, but I'm a confused man because of you. You're the only one who makes me feel this way, you're the only person in this world that can make this composed, cruel and emotionless son-of-a-bitch question his sanity, you make me so incredibly confused," he carried on.

"Haytham, I…"

"I love this… This game that we keep playing, where the reward is you. I always win, don't I? You always end up being mine, and I don't know why. I don't know why you would love someone like me…"

She reached her palm out slowly, grazing the unshaven surface of his cheek with the tips of her fingers. He wasn't exactly making sense, for what she felt was the first time he was losing his composure. His control over her. She knew what it felt like to lose control, she always lost it around him after all, because she loved him. Did his behaviour signify the same thing? Something in her heart moved, or maybe even melted, as she felt the joy of the possibility of her feelings being mutual. In all honesty, she never expected the man to love her. She was content with just loving him, and being by his side. The idea of his love for her was the one thing that would make her happy beyond any words. He leaned into the caress, closing his eyes and for the first time, letting her control him. He surely must have loved the woman if he lost every ounce of his power and authority every time she touched him. He didn't even want to doubt it any more, he wanted to love her. He didn't want to lie to himself nor to her anymore.

"Haytham," she whispered, "don't doubt me like that, just as I don't doubt you."

"I'm sorry, I won't," he replied, his lips moving deliberately. She smiled then, reaching out to take off his tricorn, admiring him. She placed it on the table, not once taking her eyes off him. Then she put her hands against his eyes softly, not allowing him to open them while she got up, startling him as he let out a soft gasp of surprise. She took a step towards him until she stood in-between his legs, feeling a new surge of power knowing that for once she was taller than him, that she was above him, that she controlled him, and that his eyes would no longer take that power away from her as they always did. With her right hand still shielding his eyes, her other palm easily found his shirt, undoing as many clasps as his jacket, which always seemed to be in the way, allowed. Her fingertips slipped under the fabric, feeling his skin, it was almost rough, but tender at the same time.

"Don't, by any chance, open your eyes," she said.

"Or else?"

"Don't, I said," she repeated, he nodded, smiling as he discovered how playful and free the tone of her voice became. She took her palm away from his eyes, giving it a few seconds to see if he would comply, and when he did, she slid her hand to his jacket, undoing it in an almost desperate rush. She took it off, letting his arms slip out of it.

"It was starting to get a bit hot in here," he admitted and felt as he felt her weight on his leg, guessing she must have wanted to use him as a comfortable seat. Her palms caught up with the shirt clasps, undoing them until his shirt came apart, the same view that always caused her heart to beat faster appearing before her eyes again. However she got rid of the shirt completely, throwing it on the desk beside his hat. He was marvellous as always. His eyes were still closed, just like he promised. She ran her left palm along his chest, her right hand on his shoulder as she supported herself, it was hard to sit on someones leg indeed. Feeling the struggle, Haytham put his arm around her, balancing her.

"Thank you..," she breathed out, already kind of losing it around his bare torso, her cheeks must have been flaring like the flame which was burning away the wax candle. Her palm kept on caressing his chest, slowly, teasingly, as if testing him to see how long he would last without completely losing his composure. "Haytham, would you marry someone, if you had to, if that someone was an influential, rich, Templar woman… If she wasn't me?"

"It would be my duty," he began and she was about to look away in disappointment, but he continued and said something which certainly surprised her. "But I wouldn't do it. I'm not a twenty-something man whose family wants to marry off to some upper-class lady. I'm a Templar, I'm a man in his fifties who once ruled Colonial America, I'm a man who is allowed to some extent to choose his marriage partner or refuse any offer given to me."

"I see," she replied softly, "I just wanted to know."

"Has Julie been saying such things to you?"

"I… She did yes, but it's because I was prying."

"Ann," he whispered and she leaned in, her palm sliding up to feel the scar on his neck, her lips inches from his. "I wouldn't marry anyone except you."

"Haytham," she gasped quietly and suddenly felt his arm push her forward until their lips collided in a soft touch. She retreated though, hovering above his mouth as his eyes opened, their gazes fixed on each other.

"Why would I when I have a woman like you by my side, you're all I need, you really are."

"Love me, please," she whispered, "love me more than you have loved anyone that walked this earth. It's all I desire, it's all that I ask from you Haytham."

"I already do," he replied so softly she could barely make out the words. She couldn't deny she felt so happy at that moment, she felt like there was nothing that could take him away from her. She finally felt like he belonged to her. She leaned in, closing her lips around his, her body colliding against his as they embraced. Even if for a little while, she finally found her place in the world, and that was one of those moments which she would treasure for all eternity.

Some time later…

"Julie."

"Master Kenway, you wanted to see me."

"What did you tell Ann to make her so distraught?" He asked with his eyes cast down to the papers that his quill so hastily flew across. The maid shrugged for a brief second before sighing and looking away to the paintings that graced the wall.

"The Mistress was the one who was acting so out of the ordinary. She has some kind of obsession over whether you will marry her or throw her out onto the streets."

"What?" His quill paused and the ink slowly seeped from it, creating a blotch on the paper. He cursed under his breath and ripped the page before disposing of it and dipping the pen back into the bottle.

"I am worried for her…" She struggled to find the appropriate words without offending her Mistress, "mental health. She is like the wind, at one moment she is calm and composed, then within seconds she is angry and then appears distraught and cries before me, and then apologises and becomes calm again."

"She just needs time to adjust. This life is very different to the one she led before."

"I understand, Master Kenway, but - if I may - I think keeping her prisoner in this house will never hasten any form of adjustment, it will only make her go insane."

He looked up then, his brows furrowing in annoyance, "I don't want to hear what you think, I want to know what she said to you."

"She said she would rather die than marry someone else rather than you, Master Kenway, and she is afraid that sooner or later you will be forced to get rid of her."

"I don't know what to do anymore," he murmured, sighing when she didn't voice a reply of any sort, and rested his palm against his temple, for he had enough. He thought bringing the girl to England would save them from Connor, he thought they would be together, he thought he would make her the happiest woman alive. Yet he ran from one danger only to face another, which was threatening to take her away either way. He no longer knew what to do, what would make her happy, for marriage was out of the question with the current Grand Master being such a bastard about it. Just when they seemed to be settling down, in reality it was him who returned to his home, who settled down. She still had a long way to go, and she was not the carefree and happy woman she once was. She was a bird locked away in a cage, worshipping and loving him to the point were she couldn't live without him. It was all his fault, but it was his way of protecting her, of keeping her under his wing. No matter what Julie said, no matter if he ruined Ann, he would carry on protecting her, in his own way. It was his only way, and that's how things would stay.

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Till next time!

AssassinSuzy