Decisions

Why am I so stupid?

Seriously. You should have asked for directions before venturing by yourself in The Frontier territory, in winter season, nonetheless.

How long has it been since you started riding? One, two hours maximum, and you were already lost.

And the Frontier was not the biggest place around; you just had an extremely bad sense of direction. If someone had a worst sense of direction, you had yet to hear of them.

"I should've seen that coming…" You sighed while walking aimlessly with Duncan, the horse. "Mother Nature has something against me, I know it! Why, with all these… paths."

You had guided blindly the horse right and left, right and left, without really thinking where you were going.

It really would not be surprising if you arrived at Connor's village. With your fantastic luck, there was nothing impossible. Though, you would mentally give yourself an award, getting to Kanatahséton without instructions… just a genius!

Ehem, back to your problem… you were still lost and Mother Nature still hated you.

"This can't get worse!" As soon as those words left your lips, you regretted saying them, bracing for the coming snow storm you had called upon.

You blinked once, twice. There were no sights of snow storms. For being winter, it was actually warm. Well, as warm as it can get in winter. So, Mother Nature didn't hate you that bad.

After riding for another half an hour, you heard voices nearby. The voices turned into screams, and the screams into bullets meeting flesh.

"Red coats?"

You dismounted Duncan, and hid him behind a gigantic and conveniently placed tree.

After making sure the horse would not be seen, you walked cautiously towards the source of the noise, staying hidden of course.

Not only red-coats, but blue coats. You sighed.

Too late.

Eight men, four on each band, were sprawled in the cold and snowy ground. Blood was staining the white substance, and there were no vital signs.

They were all-

"H-hey!"

A blue coat that somehow managed to live after being shot twice, called.

You didn't know if it was a good idea to reveal yourself. There could be more red coats ready to pounce any moment.

Ah, decisions. Let the man die without granting him his last wish, or risking your life? Well, if there were more red coats, they would have come by now, right?

Unless… unless they have had the same luck as those men, and had been killed. [1]

You decided on the latter, and carefully stepped out of the bushes you were using as hiding spot. Walking rather fast towards the man, you kneeled down in front of him.

"Hi there," You tried to smile, really. But you were not going to tell him he was going to make it, when he was clearly not.

"W-Washington..." He coughed blood, and you had to look away. You were so not prepared to have someone dying on you.

"What? What's wrong with Washington?" Still you asked.

He moved his hand, and took something out of his pocket.

He handed it to you. "G-give tha-" He couldn't continue. The last bit of life he had left had run out.

Shakily, you looked at the envelope. It was directed to George Washington, as you had expected.

It was wrong, immoral even, but the curiosity got the better of you. It was a letter, but those soldiers had protected it with their lives, and now, the responsibility had been given to you, so you opened it carefully, just to close it again. In the end, you really could not. It was not like you to spy on someone else letters.

"I can't do it…" Nope, you were just going to give that to Washington, if he decided he could show you, then good, if not… then good too. Must be something really important anyway…

*- Achilles Davenport brought this 'time skip' -*

Night. It was frigging night time. Yes, it was early, but still night. Got to admit that it took you forever to reach Washington's camp, but after getting lost a couple –of nineteen- times, you reached the commander.

"You can't be here!" Soldiers exclaimed at you, but you just ignored them. You were going to speak with the commander in chief even if it costed you your life! Well, probably not to that extent, if possible. The fact was that you were going to speak with him, period.

"Hey, Washington!" You yelled. He immediately turned to you. He was inside his tent talking to some of his men, but dismissed them when you called.

"[Name]? What are you doing here?" He sounded genuinely concerned. This was a war, and while you had helped the Assassin throughout one, this was no place for someone like you to be.

"This." You handed him the envelope, a frown was clear in your features. "I believe this is yours."

He looked at the white letter, but did not take it.

"I see."

"So…?"

He looked down. "What happen to the-"

You shook your head. "Did not… didn't survive."

He finally took the letter you had been holding. Unfolding it carefully, he placed it over the table located inside his tent.

You just stared at him. There was no more you could do, only… stare.

He was not reading the letter, and it somehow looked as if he was waiting for you to move, or go away, to read it.

"Are you not going to read it?" You asked.

"Not now." He said. "Connor came this morning."

You nodded. "Yes. He and Achilles had a pretty bad… conversation." If you could call yelling hurtful things at each other a conversation.

"I could notice. He looked troubled, though I didn't dare ask. All of us have problems right now. And I guess he did not want to talk about it, either." George sat down in a wooden bench outside his tent. "Join me," He pointed the spot next to him, and you did as told, sitting down next to him.

"That man… well, he is… I mean, sometimes I don't… get him." You had trouble trying to form your phrase.

"You say you don't get him, but do you really feel that way? Back then, you looked like the only person he really trusted."

You laughed at that. If only he knew. It took you a long time to get the man to treat you normally. At first he had been overly polite –Which, yes, was gentlemanly, but after some time it became really annoying- stoic and gave you the cold shoulder. He did not trust you easily, and while he was always concerned about your welfare, he had treated you just like that one woman with a strange obsession for farm animals. It took blood, sweat and tears for him to realize that you were not only a woman, but someone he could rely on, someone he could talk to when he felt lonely, someone he could care for.

"If that's the impression you got…"

Washington nodded, anxiety clear in his face. "Why, yes! My first impression of him was fairly good. When I was told I was to meet a Mohawk Native, I did not expect to meet… Connor."

"Oh, he just got some manners! Nothing out of the extraordinary." The sky was darkening every second and the few lit torches became many as the soldiers hurried to light them.

"Still." Washington looked around. His gaze getting lost in some point of the landscape. "I fear the day he…" Words died in his lips, he did not have the strength to continue that sentence.

"… the day he?" You pressed.

He looked down, his hand fisted. "I fear the day he finds out the truth."

Your [E/c] eyes widened. What did he mean by that? "The truth?"

He stood up rather violently. "I sent Connor in search of Benjamin Church, but knowing the elusive rat Church is, I bet he already set himself at Boston."

He then turned to meet your eyes. "You came here looking for Connor, didn't you? Look for him in Boston. I'm sure you will find him there." He started to walk away, presumably to talk to the men he was speaking to before you interrupted.

You looked at his form, reluctantly standing up from the surprisingly comfortable wooden bench.

"What should I do?"

Stay at the camp and question Washington about the 'truth'?

or

go to Boston and try to find Connor?

Hey there guys! Thank you for reading, again. Um, I wanted to involve you more into the story, so I came up with the idea of letting you decide what to do next. Please let your pick in the comments, and let me know what you think. Remember, I do not own Assassin's creed 3 nor its characters (Dammit!). I only (kind of) own you.