A/N: First off, sorry for the short length of this chapter. It wasn't working to cut it off somewhere else. Secondly, I have a sort of disclaimer for this story. Bear with me here, I just felt it needed to be said! My goal in this story is not to create two perfect people that you will always love. My goal is to show them as two flawed human beings, and with that comes the chance that you probably won't like or agree with some things they do. Trust me, they even get on my nerves sometimes! I just want everyone to remember that this is war, and these characters are human. No one is that perfect in real life, especially in the circumstances. Connor and my OC are human, and I don't like when people write any character as being perfect and unable to make mistakes, either intentional or unintentional ones. It's part of the human experience, and it makes characters more real to me when they have to deal with the consequences of their actions. And trust me, in this story there will be a lot of that.

Now that that is out of the way, enjoy, and feel free to review!

Chapter Two;

The Plan

"Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful." Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

Connor quietly observed her as he readied himself for their journey. After a long night spent wondering why he had even taken her with him, he had decided to take her to Achilles – the old man would know the right questions to ask. He was sure the woman knew where Lee was, but he also knew she would never open her mouth to him. Achilles had a way with people, though, and Connor was sure that he would be much more effective in loosening her tongue. As he filled his water skin, it suddenly dawned on him that he had no idea what he would do with her afterward, but he could cross that bridge when he came to it.

The woman herself was a mystery, and an unsettling one at that. From the moment he had risen from what little sleep he had gotten, he sensed her malicious gaze latching onto him, and he could almost feel the contempt radiating from her skin. Intrigue at what lies the Templars had doubtlessly told her to get her to hate him so wholly kept his curious eyes on her, and his lingering gaze didn't escape her narrowed eyes. She was a wild thing, and Connor wondered if perhaps he had gotten in over his head.

"See something you like, Assassin?" Her voice forged sweetness as she mocked him, a counterfeit smile plastered on her face. Though he had known the woman for no more than half a day, Connor already knew well that his silence was what agitated her the easiest.

Disgruntlement and a hint of indignation entered her stubborn features almost instantly. All she wanted was for him to return the blow of words, to insult her right back and enable her taunting. Instead, his silence was all that filled the air, stagnant and so cruelly thwarting.

"Come on," he said simply, refusing to meet her gaze as he pulled her up, hands still bound.

"Do not touch me," she yelled, her voice sharp and bitter as she yanked her arm away. No way would she allow that Assassin filth to touch her! "I do not need your help."

"Suit yourself." Connor walked away without another word, leaving her to create a way to overcome the result of her pride.

Walking towards the lone horse that stood nearby, she suppressed a groan. There was no way she would be able to mount with her hands bound. Nevertheless, she made several attempts as Connor stood behind her, arms crossed, a trace of an entertained smile on his lips. After a few agonizingly degrading moments, she managed to drag herself into the saddle, only to be further shamed by the ease by which the Assassin swung up behind her, coaxing the horse into motion by one syllable.

Cora shifted forward in the seat, trying to touch her captor as little as possible, but with the confinements of a saddle meant for one, it was neither easy nor comfortable to keep from making contact. The nerve of that man... Forcing her to ride with him, refusing to meet her provocations...

How was she supposed to kill him if he wouldn't even acknowledge her? Seduction was obviously out of the question, and any kind of sneaking was undoubtedly unwise.

Think like your enemy, she reminded herself. Think like an Assassin, with their precious honor and secrecy and trust... She scoffed in amusement before it finally hit her over the head like a ton of bricks. Trust. How had she not seen it before? Trust was the only way inside... She had to make the Assassin trust her, and at the precise moment he believed she would not betray him, into his back her knife would go.

It was perfect! She almost let out a giggle at the genius of it, but kept it in, not wanting to alert the Assassin to how pleased she was with herself. She had let her anger cloud her judgment before, but this time would be different. This time, she would not even take a breath without thinking how it would affect her mission.

It wouldn't be easy, and it most definitely would not be enjoyable, but it was for a good cause, and the satisfaction of the life leaving his eyes would be well worth it.

Purpose and determination filling her with patience, Cora was suddenly much more comfortable as she was led to some godforsaken place, some temporary fate unbeknownst to her. Now that she had decided her next move, her mind began to wander, curiosity filling her to the brim. Where were they going? How long would it take for the Assassin to trust her?

Abruptly, her reverie was broken by a large group of men in red yelling at the Assassin. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into now?

Cursing under his breath, Connor urged the horse into a sprint after a quick cut left into the woods. When he was sure he had lost the Redcoats, he stopped the horse, swinging his legs back onto the ground in one quick motion and pulling the girl down with him.

"We are walking from here."

"What about the horse?"

"Too easy to track. She will find her way home," The Assassin said simply.

What an ass, Cora thought to herself. Leaving an animal alone in the forest! Even as merciless as she could be, never would she have been able to leave a horse alone. Although, she had to admit that if she did have a weakness, helpless animals was it.

"And I suppose we will just walk all the way to wherever it is you are taking me?"

"Yes."

Rolling her eyes, she reluctantly followed him. This was going to be harder than she thought.

"Where is it we are going exactly?"

"You will see."

It was difficult to suppress a frustrated groan... It was difficult to suppress a lot of things around this damned Assassin. Who knew that a man of such few words would end up frustrating her so damn much?

"Or you could just tell me now," Cora proposed, voice challenging him.

"I could also deliver you to whoever it was that sent you, since you seem so keen on returning," he threatened back, hitting her right where it hurt. Grumbling, she stomped behind him, annoyed that all it took was a threat to send her back to keep her in check. As much as she despised the Assassin, she would brave a thousand days with him in order to avoid that bastard's hungry eyes and demanding tongue.

"Look," she said, reluctantly conceding defeat. Temporary defeat, though, she reminded herself. Lose the battle, win the war, and all of that. "I have no intentions of returning to where I came from. As long as you agree to release me to myself when this is over, I will go with you without objection, and tell you all you wish."

"Really." It was a statement rather than a question, and obvious doubt was thick in his monotone voice.

"If you would rather drag me there kicking and screaming, you cannot say I gave you no other choice."

"I just did not expect you to agree so easily."

"Sorry to disappoint you," she said with a bitter laugh.

Before Connor could respond, the telltale sound of a snapping twig reached his ears. Immediately, he grabbed the girl's arm and led her forward in a desperate sprint. That patrol had been full of grenadiers, and with a bound woman at his side, fighting so many of them wasn't in anyone's best interest.

Just as they rounded a corner, a few Regulars emerged from behind a group of trees and began their approach. Cornered, Connor drew his weapon. They would have to fight.

"Release me," Cora demanded. As the patrol closed in on them, she became more urgent. "Damn you, release me! At least let me fight for my own life!"

At first, Connor refused, his experience thus far with the girl telling him she would surely run off the first chance she had. But then, he remembered her words, and fierce determination not to end up back with whoever had sent her. As much as she seemed to hate him, her disgust with whomever's hand controlled her life was far greater. With a frustrated groan, he complied, slicing through the ropes with ease.

Cora made the first move, sprinting to the nearest Regular, a young soldier who looked quite inexperienced and reluctant to fight. She disarmed him easily and he stumbled backwards, as if willingly giving his permission for her to take his sword. Poor boy, she thought as she dodged a sword from one of the other soldiers. The boy couldn't have been older than 15, and she knew well that it was likely he had been unwillingly conscripted.

Cora made sure to give him his escape, making quick work of the other Regulars. Any hesitation the men had at fighting a woman were long gone once her blade had impaled its first victim. As the second man fell to the floor, she ducked just in time to avoid the blow of a grenadier's axe. As he built up another swing, she lunged at him, strike aimed for the heart. He blocked it easily with the wood of his axe, delivering a well placed punch to the side of her face, sending her reeling backwards.

Just as he raised his axe to finish her, a shot rang out and he fell limp to the ground.

Breaths coming ragged, Cora glanced at the Assassin, who was sliding his gun into its holster while fending off a grenadier of his own. It was the last of the patrol, she noted, admittedly shocked. In the time it had taken her to disarm a boy and kill two Regulars, three grenadiers lay dead at his feet.

The Assassin broke the soldier's defense easily, tripping him onto his back and burying his tomahawk into his chest. Even Cora, who was battle hardened of her own regard, cringed at the sight. As the Assassin turned to say something to her, she could see the visible half of his face change, and he pulled out his gun, aiming at some unseen target behind her.

Whipping her head around, she saw only the young Regular making a run for it. Her lips didn't even have the time to form an objection before he was falling to the ground, a gunshot ringing mercilessly through the air.

"You bastard," she yelled as she sprinted to the boy, sliding onto her knees as she approached. "He was only a boy!" She prayed for a pulse, and found none. Anger and hatred renewed, she stood, half of her begging for permission to kill the Assassin now. This was what they were. Proof was right in front of her. The same men that had taken her brother's life, the same men that had defiled her sisters, that had ruined her life... This Assassin was part of them, and the proof was in the dead child at her feet.

"He was going to warn the others," the Assassin insisted. "I had no choice. Otherwise double, triple that patrol could have come after us."

It had been a long time since Cora had felt such pure rage. So much of her wanted to strangle him now, to end his pathetic excuse for a life in return for the life he had taken – the lives he had taken. Staying her anger was the hardest thing she had done since she had been thrust into this terrible twist of fate. She had to, though, if she truly wanted her revenge. She had to earn his trust...

If she stayed here, she would doubtlessly do or say something she would regret.

"Fuck you," she yelled irately. It was pure instinct that turned her on her heels, that carried her as far away as possible from that meager excuse for a man.