A/N: You may notice that this chapter is significantly shorter than what I've been doing. I felt this was an okay place to end it, especially since this chapter was taking way longer than I had planned and I wanted to be able to get something out to you. This past month has been ridiculously busy with school and a trip over spring break, so I haven't had nearly as much time for writing as I want. Luckily, the wait for the next chapter shouldn't be nearly as long, since I've already got a significant portion of it finished. This first part was giving me all sorts of trouble (I have been in such a long writer's block that I'm just doubting everything I do) so I just want to move on. Anyway, I hope those of you in school enjoyed/are enjoying/will enjoy your spring break!

Chapter Twenty-One;

A Learning Process

"We would rather be ruined then changed

We would rather die in our dread

Than climb the cross of the moment

And let our illusions die."

W.H. Auden, The Age of Anxiety: A Baroque Eclogue

When it became clear that Connor would be fine, the better part of their company had departed for home, leaving only he, Cora, Victoire, and Duncan to occupy the cabin. At first, the hours were spent tiptoeing around the fact that Charles Lee was alive, Oliver was free, and Haytham Kenway was dead. Cora had taken her disappointment better than Connor, but that was understandable. Though he kept a cool, indifferent demeanor, Cora knew a part of him grieved the loss of his father. She could see it in his eyes over breakfast, eyes fixed on nothing, and in his posture before bed, his hand covering his face when he thought she was not looking. Cora imagined it was only made worse by the fact that Haytham had died by his own hand, especially because he already carried so much pain from the death of Kanen'tó:kon. Attempts to talk to him had all failed, and so they had fallen into a routine of near silence. Thankfully after a few days as his body began to heal, his spirits improved also. Even so, he was solemn most of the time, though Cora was able to draw forth a smile or laugh every now and then.

Saying goodbye to Victoire was even harder than before. It was when they were together that Cora was hit with how close they had become. She had not had such a relationship since Jane, and had not realized how much she missed the companionship of such a friend. Selfishly, Cora had thought to ask her to come back with them, but she knew she could never request such a thing of her. Boston was where she wanted to be, with Duncan and Stephane and the bigger role she had taken on with the Assassins. Victoire had raved on about how she was organizing the women in the community in order to deal with both the Templars and the British. She had some fantasy about spy rings and a women's militia, but even she had admitted that the latter might be a bit overzealous. Still, if anyone could organize such a thing it was Victoire.

They made a promise to write often, but it wouldn't be the same as being in her company. Victoire was the sole person, beside Connor, who she felt completely at ease with. With Victoire she could laugh, cry, be serious, or relax and make a complete fool of herself.

One year ago, Cora never would have dared imagine she would have found all of this... Respect, love, friendship, belonging... And though her path there had been painful, perhaps that made it all the more worthwhile. For so long she had dreamed of nothing more than to search for her family, to go home, yet now she found herself thinking of such things less and less. It wasn't that she no longer wanted to find her brother if he was alive, or to receive closure if he was not, but the sense of urgency had lessened. Home had been her obsession for years, yet now she found that perhaps home was never a place she had to find, and instead one she had to create for herself. It was this that had led her to the decision to put the search for her brother aside, at least until Lee and Oliver were taken care of. Connor had eagerly received the news, and Cora had been happy to give him some small source of happiness. No doubt he enjoyed having been the eventual victor of that disagreement...

He squeezed her shoulder as she waved goodbye, watching Victoire and Duncan ride away. "I already miss her," she lamented sadly once they were inside the cabin again.

"I know." Connor gave her an empathetic smile, resting his hand on her shoulder for a moment. "I suppose you will have to make do with me," he teased, though his face was rather impassive. Cora poked him gently in the side, taking care not to touch any tender places.

"If I have to," she said, smiling broadly before leaning against his stronger side.

Despite the moment of lightheartedness, a heavy silence fell over them as they gathered the last of their things to prepare for the journey home. A wall was slowly building between them, and she could feel it climbing higher faster than she could tear the bricks away.

Prudence had been outside making bread when they entered the homestead, and her newly protruding belly gave Cora cause to stop and talk with her. Connor had stayed to give his congratulations, but he soon felt himself detach from the conversation, his mind straying to other things. When he excused himself, the women saw him off with smiles, but he still caught the look of concern in Cora's eyes as he walked away. Since the night in New York, she had often looked at him like that. It seemed she was always worrying over him, even if she did not vocalize it. Instead, he saw it in other ways. Constantly, she asked if there was anything he needed, or anything he wanted to talk about. Though he always said no, he knew he was not doing well in convincing her that he was truly fine. It probably didn't help that he often was torn from sleep by nightmares. If his silence bothered her, she did not say anything about it. Part of him was glad for it, but another wished she would bring it up, would force him to talk about everything that had happened. As much as he wanted to, something always held him back.

When Connor approached the manor, he caught sight of someone pacing in front of the doorway. Watching him, he tried to recall if he had ever seen him before, but from the distance he could not be sure. As he led Eksá:'a to the stable, the stranger noticed him and began walking toward him with a quick, anxious step. Though the man gave no real cause for alarm, Connor felt his guard go up as he dismounted.

Once he was able to get a better look at him, Connor decided that he did look vaguely familiar. There was something in his face that made him feel as though he had seen him before, but he could not quite place him. His hair was brown, falling in waves to his shoulders, the line of his nose oddly familiar. He wore his beard neatly trimmed and was of an average height, broad shouldered but not heavily built. As he approached he removed his tricorn, and Connor could see the man's anxious blue eyes looking all around, as if he was expecting someone else to arrive.

"Are you Connor?"

Nodding, Connor rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Yes. Can I help you?"

"Achilles told me to speak with you," he explained. "I am looking for my-"

Riordan stopped as soon as he saw her. Though it had been six years, he recognized her right away. Gone was the child he had last seen, that girl with mischief in her eyes and an eternal smile upon her lips. He knew his sister would be a woman grown now, but that still didn't seem to dull the shock of actually seeing her standing there. Her hair was worked into a long braid, the bottom just reaching her hip, its brown color balancing with her brown eyes. She was smiling when he first noticed her, laughing as an eager dog followed close at her heels, nudging its nose against her side. Stopping, she stooped down to scratch the mutt behind the ears, but when she caught sight of him she froze, the color draining from her face. Riordan had imagined this moment in his head a million times, and he could hardly believe that his sister was truly standing mere yards before him. Puzzled, Connor looked between the two of them, but when Riordan whispered "Radha," his eyes widened in realization. She stood frozen, prompting him to approach her. As he came closer, he could see she had knives and a pistol fastened in her belt. Slowing as he neared her, he wondered what had driven her to bear weapons.

Riordan stopped in front of her, searching her dark eyes in an attempt to discern how she was feeling. He wanted to embrace her, but found his limbs unresponsive. Cora opened her mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again, rendered completely speechless. She even reached out to touch him and then drew her hand back, as if afraid acknowledging him would make him disappear. Though at first she had not recognized him, especially with the beard he now wore, there was no mistaking that this was her brother. Her brother. Back from the dead.

"This can't be real," she whispered, finally making eye contact. "You are dead." A tight lump formed in her throat, and she raised a hand to her neck as if to keep it under control.

Riordan shook his head but did not know what else to say. There were so many things he had planned to say, yet now he found them either insufficient or gone altogether. Cora stepped forward and throwing her arms around him, her fingers digging into his shoulder as if to prove that he was not some apparition. Returning her embrace, he held her tightly as he tried to keep his composure.

"I looked for you," he cried, his voice ragged in her ear. "I never stopped searching, I knew you were alive. I knew."

At that, she grew heavy in his arms, letting out a muffled sob.

Once the initial shock had passed, a strange distance settled between Cora and her brother. It was as if both were being forced to accept the reality of who the other had become in their time apart. Reconciling the actuality of it with the ideas they had created in their minds had proved more challenging than either expected. After making it inside they sat in silence for a long while, regarding each other as both tried to come up with something meaningful enough to say. Connor had left them alone, though only after seeking Cora's approval which she had readily given. After all, Riordan was her brother... The last time she had seen him he was a clean-shaven, rowdy nineteen year old with no regard for much besides horses, gambling, and wooing pretty girls, at least when he was not helping their father support the family. Riordan was almost never serious, much to their father's dismay after their mother had died and he had become far more somber. Her brother's playful nature and apparent disdain of certain responsibilities was a source of regular argument between them, but Riordan had always stepped up when he was truly needed.

Now, Cora could see that mischievous rascal of a brother and companion was long gone. There was obvious weight in his eyes bearing heavily upon him. Who knew what he had seen or experienced in the past six years... Had he fought in the war, did he have a family of his own? There were so many questions, but she could not bear to ask for fear that the answers would not satisfy her.

"I don't know where to begin," Riordan said finally, first to break the silence.

"How long have you been looking for me?"

"I searched for a long time at first, but..." He looked away, suddenly very conscious of the fact he was practically telling her gave up looking. "I should have kept looking until I found you. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize," she said gently. Riordan watched her intently, searching her face to see if her lack of blame was genuine or if she only said it for his sake. "It is behind us, and you are here now."

Riordan nodded, wringing his hands as another long moment of silence fell over them. "Is... Are Aoife, Maebh..."

"Aoife is well," Riordan said. Cora smiled, covering her mouth with her hand as she let out a breath. "Maebh... I do not know where she is, or Aunt Nuala. I was searching for them, too, but found little."

"Is there any hope? Anything at all?"

"I went to Aunt Nuala's home many years ago, and neighbors said she lad left. There was no mention of a girl, or where she may have gone. I have not found anything since."

Cora nodded. Though she had expected as much, hearing it still pained her. Hope was all she had possessed, all she had clung to for so long that its loss was a hard thing to bear.

"Even so," Riordan said, having noticed his sister's dejected look, "There is nothing to make me assume they are not out there somewhere. I planned to look for them, after I found you." Cora looked up at him, and he softened his voice. "And I still do, if you will accompany me."

"Of course," she said, impulse overcoming reason.

Obviously relieved and encouraged by her answer, Riordan's face lit up. "We should leave as soon as possible! I already have a few leads, but I suppose we should go and see Aoife first, I have no doubt she would kill me if I didn't take you right home."

Cora's heart sunk with the reality of what he thought she had agreed to. Now? There was still so much she had to do... After all, she had decided that Oliver and Lee were to be taken care of before she looked for her family! She couldn't go now, not with so much work to be done with the Assassins, not to mention Connor... He needed her now more than ever, and she would have been a fool to deny that she needed him, as well.

"I want to go with you, but now is not exactly the right time," she said awkwardly, wringing her hands together as she tried to find the best way to explain.

A hurt confusion flooded his face. "What do you mean?"

Cora heard the door open and Connor call to her, and she perhaps had never been so glad for an interruption. She stood when he came into the room, bearing a folded piece of parchment. Though she could feel Riordan's heavy stare, she eagerly searched for a distraction to buy her time before having to have the discussion with him.

Connor handed her the letter, which she practically snatched from him, turning it over in her hands. "It is from Victoire. The messenger said it was urgent, else I would not have interrupted."

"It's fine," she mumbled as she broke the seal, her eyes flying over her friend's neat script. Connor watched as a flurry of emotions passed over her face. When she was finished she took a deep breath.

"It's Oliver," she said, speaking his name slowly, as if the anger had inhibited her speech. "Victoire believes she may have found him." Cora's expression told him not to pry for more just yet. Perhaps she needed time to process the letter, or did not want to speak too freely in front of her brother.

"Will you go after him?"

"What is going on? Who is Oliver?" As soon as he spoke the name, he remembered his kidnap in Boston. Ezekiel had seemed to imply the men who had taken him were also searching for his sister... perhaps the two were correlated.

Cora shared an uneasy look with Connor, but quickly pulled a composed mask over her emotions and neatly folded the letter. "There is much you do not know," she told him. Riordan looked as though he wanted to press her for more information, but there was something in her tone that told him to stay quiet. "I should write to let her know I have received the letter and will send word of my decision as soon as possible." Connor nodded, trying to catch her eye. Though she was speaking to him, her eyes did not quite meet his. Before he could make sure she was alright, she was already gone, leaving Connor and Riordan to share in a rather awkward silence.

"Will you not tell me what is going on?" Connor could see he was irritated about not being let in on the content of the letter. Even so, he knew it was not his place to divulge such information.

"The story is not mine to tell," he said. Riordan took a step forward, squaring his shoulders aggressively.

"I am her brother! Who the hell do you think you are?"

Connor gave him a hard stare, but did not engage his provocations. The last thing Cora needed was to hear of a serious argument between them. "Like she said, there is much you do not know." With that he took off in the direction Cora had gone. Sighing, Riordan sat down, pressing his fingers against his temple. He knew he should not have reacted so harshly toward him, but it was so frustrating to have so little understanding of what was going on, especially since his sister did not seem apt to share anything with him. How was he supposed to help her or get to know her if she would not even speak with him?

And Connor! Though he shouldn't have let his anger control his tongue, he did not understand why the man was so arrogant when it came to his sister. He acted as though he had some huge role to play in all of this, when he was nothing but a bystander, a business partner, a temporary alliance! It was ridiculous!

That aside, Riordan knew he had to speak with his sister, to make her see reason. However, when he reached the door he saw that Connor had beat him to it. His sister was leaning against a tree, gazing out across the water at the gathering storm clouds. She turned and began to talk to him, one hand waving as she spoke. He did not interrupt, but when she covered her face with her hand he lay a hand on her shoulder and seemed to say something to her. Riordan's face flushed with anger as he watched Connor's hand move to her neck, then to her cheek. He was far too familiar with her. No doubt that was why she was so secretive! The damn man was probably being too forward, making her uncomfortable or even manipulating her into staying here... Well. At least now there would be no problem putting an end to that!

Just as he took the first step toward them, she leaned into him, pressing her forehead against his chest. Riordan halted, his eyes wide and his heart pounding with confusion. It was in the way that Connor's hand smoothed her hair and ran tenderly over her back that made him understand the truth of the man's words. Perhaps there really were many things he did not know...

As they days went on, conversation between Cora and her brother had become more natural. Where they had once struggled to find common ground, they now fell into easy conversation, facilitated by endless games of whist. Cora had been the one to suggest they play cards, recalling her brother's affinity for any kind of game. It was the lighthearted yet still competitive act that helped ease the tension of getting to know one another. They often spent the evenings like this, laughing and talking well into the night. This time, however, Riordan had paused in his mirth, looking serious as he folded his cards into his hands, his eyes falling on his sister.

"There is something I have wanted to discuss..."

"Of course," Cora said. Though apprehensive, she neatly placed her cards on the table, then folded her hands in her lap as she gave him her full attention.

"I was wondering... When will you be ready to leave? There is still so much hope to find Maebh and Aunt Nuala... To be reunited again, all of us." Cora looked away, though she tried not to let her apprehension show. Did he really expect so much of her? Sure, she had once been ready to drop everything to search for him, but now things were different... She wanted to see Aoife, wanted to find closure with the fate of her aunt and younger sister, but things had grown so complicated. Both Oliver and Lee were still alive, and she could not imagine abandoning either cause after all she and Connor had gone through. Riordan continued, trying to ease the tension of her silence with more words to convince her. "My wife and son will be anxious for me to return... And even more eager to meet you."

At that, Cora looked up again, her eyes wide but her voice small as she spoke. "I have a nephew?"

"Yes," Riordan smiled, obviously every bit the proud and doting father. "His name is Benjamin. He is three now." Cora smiled at the thought of the child, the idea of being an aunt... She wondered what he looked like, if he had taken after their side of the family, perhaps had the same blue eyes of their mother. As her thoughts got away from her, she felt her smile falter as a tight lump grew in her throat. So much had been lost... So much had been taken from her. She should have held him as a babe, should have watched her parents' faces swell with pride at the sight of their first grandchild. There should have been a new dress for his wedding, a joyful reception of a new sister into the family. Instead, she had been left to think her whole family was lost to her forever. Overwhelmed, she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to conceal the look of sadness on her face. Whispering an apology, she stood, excusing herself.

Riordan called after her, his voice riddled with concern. "Radha..."

Stopping, she took a deep breath and turned. "Cora," she corrected. "My name is Cora." Her brother opened his mouth to say something else but then stopped, looking away and hanging his head. She knew this was difficult for him, but there was only so much she could take at one time.

Connor was there when she rounded the corner. Fearing he had heard, she stared at him for a moment before pushing past him, nearly running out the front door. Connor watched her go, debating whether or not he should follow. It was Riordan's audible groan that led him into the room. The man had a hand against his forehead when he entered, obviously distressed. Despite the fact that their relationship had been rather cold during his stay, Connor still felt pity for him.

"Give her time," he said gently. "There is no need to overwhelm her with so much at once." Though his words were well-intentioned, Riordan took offense, straightening up and taking a step toward him.

"What do you know? She is my sister, I know what she can handle."

Connor crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. Despite the sympathy he had for the situation, he could not believe that Riordan was still hanging on to his idealistic notions. "Do you?"

"Better than you do," he accused angrily. Connor did not have the time or patience to argue with the man, so he did his best not to escalate the situation further. The last thing Cora needed was to know that they had gotten into a serious argument.

"I will say no more, I know she can speak for herself."

"In that, you are right. Besides, she is none of your concern," he said dismissively.

"You have much to learn about her."

His hands balled into fists at his sides, but he did not move. "Yes, yes, there is much I do not know, I have much to learn... You have not hesitated to remind me at every opportunity." Connor gave him a hard look but did not respond, and Riordan rolled his eyes, making for the stairs. He did not have the desire to stay while the man undermined him in such a way, and neither did he have the patience to defend himself to the brick wall that was Connor's mind. Even so, he stopped when he passed him, leaning close with narrowed eyes.

"You think yourself so wise and above all of this, but it is plain enough that there is much of my sister that you do not know."

"She has judged otherwise," he said coldly, standing his ground. If his words had broken Riordan's resolve, the man did not show it, and instead took his leave without a word.

As much as Connor wished to disregard his words, he could not help but dwell on the doubts Riordan had stirred within him. The man's words had a certain degree of truth to them, no matter how much Connor wished otherwise. There truly was much he did not know of her... She rarely talked about her childhood, her desires for the future, her likes and dislikes... But there was much he did know – a hoard of little things he had collected in his mind over the many months they had spent together. For example, he knew that no matter how hot it was, she still slept with a blanket, that she always took the time to braid her hair before bed, insisting it prevented breakage and kept it under control. Her favorite color was blue, she loved the rain, and always ate double her portion of bread if she was allowed. When she was working hard at something she would bite her bottom lip, preferred to dress simply, tended to be quite anxious, and of course was never caught without her sketchbook in nearby. She was quite the paradox at times, both easily frustrated and endlessly patient, bold and hesitant, focused and scatter-brained...

Still, Riordan's words repeated in his mind later that night when Cora climbed into bed next to him. Not wanting to give cause to further tension, she had taken to sleeping in the other room, though she often spent much of the night with him instead.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked as she settled next to him, her hair loosely framing her face as her braid threatened to come undone.

"Anything," she breathed, laying a hand on his arm as she slid closer to him, draping one leg over his.

"Do you think I know you well?"

Cora made a face that was half confusion and half amusement, breathing a sigh of a laugh as she nodded. "Of course you do! What in the world would make you ask such a thing?"

Connor hesitated, but admitted the truth all the same. "Your brother said-"

Scoffing, Cora cut him off. "Forget about him. He thinks he knows my mind, but he doesn't," she said bitterly, drawing away from him and turning onto her back.

"I do not even know the month you were born," he said, adjusting so he could look at her.

"April," she said simply. "Though I do not know such things, either," she said softly, rolling back on her side.

"I was born in April as well," he said, garnering a laugh from Cora's lips. "What is so funny?"

"My mother always said that those born in the same month were prone to conflict, yet also to great companionship," she said wistfully. "It was what she always told me when I complained of my sister." Connor drew her closer, pushing a lose strand of hair behind her shoulder as she threaded her arm around his waist. "Besides, I do not see how knowing my birthday makes so much of a difference. You know the important things. You know how to make me laugh, how to anger me and soothe me, how to banish my worries and give me strength, how to support my ambitions..." Pausing, she drew her face close to his, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "How to please me," she whispered mischievously, placing a kiss along the base of his neck. She sucked gently at his skin before drawing back again, placing a hand on his cheek. "Those things are what really matter. That is what sustains love. Not whether I like to tie my hair with leather or lace, or how old I was when I first rode a horse."

"You are right," he said, smiling. Though her words had banished any thoughts Riordan's words had planted, he found himself unable to express exactly how much they meant to him.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I know."

Connor laughed at her understated pride, running a hand along her side. "Do you?" Laughing, she pushed him onto his back and settled astride him. His hands settled on the sides of her ribs as she kissed him, holding his face between her own fingers. Her touch was eager, and as his hands slid to the small of her back she pushed one further down until his fingers brushed the hem of her shift. When she brought their hands back up again, her shift coming along, Connor broke their kiss.

"Your brother..."

"Is a heavy sleeper," she said, pulling away so she could look at him. Though part of Connor feared Riordan's reaction if he realized what was happening, he kissed her anyway, holding her close to support her as he rolled her onto her back. He took a moment to look at her, a confession of love on his lips, but before he could form the words she had pulled him close and soon he was lost in her kiss, any coherent thought gone from his mind. There were no words between them, but in that moment neither found need for any.

A/N: Thanks to all who have followed, favorited, and reviewed! Your support really helps me sustain motivation to keep writing! Also, there have now been over 13,500 hits on this story which is something I certainly never thought I'd see! Thanks you all you wonderful readers for making it happen!

Bones McCoy - Lucky for you, I actually have been jotting some things down in my spare time for a sequel... Which I suppose could be a good or a bad thing haha! Thank you so much for your kind words, I can't express how much they mean to me! Your comments about my characterization is basically the supreme compliment for me!

The Steaming Cactus - Thanks so much!