Chapter Twenty-Three;

Melancholy

"I live, I die; I burn myself and drown,

Seared by the ice and frozen by fire;

Life is as hard as iron, as soft as breath;

My joy and trouble dance on the same wire.

In the same sudden breath I laugh and weep,

My torment pleasure where my pleasure grieves;

My treasure's lost which I for all time keep,

At once I wither and put out new leaves.

Thus constant Love is my inconstant guide;

And when I am to pain's refinement brought,

Beyond all hope, he grants me a reprive.

And when I think joy cannot be denied,

And scaled the peak of happiness I sought,

He casts me down into my former grief."

Louise Labé, Sonnet VIII

October, 1781

The weather was quite appropriate for Cora's sullen mood. Dark clouds hung low in the sky, lightning flashing upon the horizon. The rain began slowly, eventually building up into a downpour strong enough to soak her hair and clothes straight through. Even so, she did not go inside. Instead she closed her eyes, relishing the feel of the cool rain on her skin. Two days had gone by since Riordan had told her of their father, and despite the fallout between them he remained on the Homestead. Perhaps he could not bear to leave on such terms. No doubt he thought she was angry with him for not telling her right away, as she had not said more than a few words to him since she had sent him away. In truth, she was not angry with him. Maybe she had been at first, but the feeling had soon passed. The fact that he had kept it from her while he was trying to get to know her again was understandable. It would not have been wise to add the truth of their father's survival on top of what they had already been trying to deal with. Cora knew the only reason he had not yet returned to his family was because she had not yet spoken to him. It was not an easy thing to do, though, for she knew all he would want to do is talk about their father, and that was the last thing she desired.

At the sound of the door opening, she turned her head slightly, but looked away again when she realized it was only Connor. "What are you doing?" He asked softly, standing in the doorway as he watched her lay there in the rain.

Cora shrugged, laying back and closing her eyes. "Nothing," she said, the rain beginning to fall harder.

She could hear Connor sigh and walk away, setting something down before coming back. "I brought tea." Cora hummed in response, folding her hands across her belly. After a few moments of silence, she heard Connor moving and then felt him beside her. Eyes flying open, she sat up and looked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, imitating her tone with a wry smile on his face. Cora rolled her eyes and got up, pulling him to his feet.

"You're going to get drenched," she scolded as she tried to push him back inside. He let her do so, stopping once he was safely past the threshold.

Connor picked up her braid, heavy with water, and tossed it behind her shoulder where it smacked audibly against her back. "Says you."

"Alright," she yielded, taking a step back into the house. "Happy?"

"Do not be so difficult," he teased, picking up a blanket from a nearby chair and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"I thought you would know by now that being difficult is part of my nature."

"You're right," he whispered, rubbing her arms to warm her. "What was I thinking?"

Cora laughed softly, but the smile soon fell and she turned her face away from him. He could see the pain in her expression, and wanted more than anything to lessen the burden of it. "What is it?" She closed her eyes at his words, and he lay a hand upon her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek. "Is it about your father? Do you wish to talk about it?"

Cora swallowed, trying to banish the lump that was forming within her throat. Words eluded her. In all honesty, she wasn't even sure what it really was that had her feeling so distressed. Of course the news about her father had been hard to take, but that wasn't the whole of it. In her hours of solitude over the recent days, she had slowly realized that she would go with her brother. Not that she should, or that she necessarily wished to, but that she would. Perhaps it was part of her was pushing back against the decision.

A loud burst of thunder made her jump slightly, and Connor pulled her into his chest. Grabbing the sides of his shirt, she pressed her forehead against him, trying to commit to memory the feel of him, the smell of him... The taste of him. Raising her chin, she looked at him for a moment before kissing him. She had only meant for it to be a tender gesture, but instead she found her tongue tracing the line of his lip, and when he opened his mouth under hers, she raised her hands to his neck. As the blanket slid to the floor with a soft rustle of the fabric, his hands pressed against her back. They were warm through her cold, wet blouse, and she shivered as he held her closer. Drawing back, she rested her hands on the side of his face and looked him in the eyes.

"I love you," she said intently. Connor drew back further, looking serious as he held her gently by the shoulders, having heard the "but" that her tone suggested was coming. She took a deep breath, obviously struggling with words.

"You can tell me," he urged softly, squeezing her shoulders reassuringly.

"I have to go with him," she said finally, her voice faltering. "I have to," she stressed, searching his eyes in hopes that he understood she didn't want to leave.

"I know."

"You aren't upset?"

Connor shook his head, managing a smile for her sake. "How could I be? You deserve to find them, to find closure and happiness..."

"I have already found happiness," she said, grabbing his hands. He could tell she was struggling with this confession, but he did not want her to waste a moment worrying about him, even if it pained him to hear that she would leave, if only for a little while. In truth, the thought of her leaving was not one he wanted to even entertain, but how could he stop her from reuniting with her family, of all things? No, he had to support her, even if he despised the thought of being without her. As he felt his face begin to betray his thoughts, he embraced her, committing to memory the feel of her skin beneath his fingers.

"I am thinking of going to Boston," she said after a few long moments of still, easy silence. "I need to speak with Victoire in person about the contents of her letter, and see where things stand since I will be gone for a while."

"Faulkner and I are supposed to start repairs on the Aquila tomorrow. I suppose I can re-delegate some responsibilities, but I will not be able to go with you for a few days."

"I cannot wait. It is no problem to go alone."

"Cora..."

"Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I do. I just... I will worry for you." He furrowed his brows for a moment, thinking. "I believe Norris has been planning to take a trip to Boston. Would you consider going with him?"

Smiling, Cora kissed him tenderly. "I do not need company. But if it will give you comfort, you can speak to him about it." Under normal circumstances, Cora would have adamantly refused such an idea, but she suddenly found she could no longer say no to him.

Riordan was sitting on a rock overlooking the bay when Cora finally found him. His face was wrought with weariness, and he seemed to be absentmindedly tearing some flower apart in his hands as he stared out across the water. As she approached, she tried to work out in her mind how exactly she would tell him about her decision, not to mention how she would explain the truth of what had happened to her. When she had realized she would go with him, she knew she had to explain Oliver and what her intentions were toward him and the Templars. Though it would be hard for her to speak of such things, it was only right, in case something were to happen and his safety was compromised because of it.

"Hey," she said softly. Riordan turned with wide eyes, obviously having not heard her approaching. As soon as he realized it was her, he stood, his eyes moving over her face to try and gauge what she was feeling. He did not wait for her to begin talking though, instead launching straight into an obviously thoroughly planned apology.

"Cora, I... I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away. You have every right to be upset, but please just-"

"I am not angry."

Surprised, the frantic look disappeared from his eyes. "You're not?"

"No. I'm sorry I yelled at you before, I just needed to be alone." Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked away. Riordan nodded, but the silence between them seemed awkward and strained.

"There are some things I have to tell you." Walking past him, she settled herself on the rock he had been sitting on before, and he stared at her apprehensively before joining her, as if afraid of what she might say. "I have decided that I will go with you," she said solemnly, watching a little fishing boat rocking in the waves down below. Cora had expected him to be elated, to embrace her and make a big show of his joy, but instead he only nodded. It was obvious that he was purposely containing his happiness for her sake, and though she made no show of it, the care with which he was handling the situation made her hopeful for the future of their relationship. "My condition is that I need a few days to..." Trailing off, she swallowed, trying to keep from showing how hard it was to leave behind everything she had gained. Instead, she changed the subject. "I will be going to Boston, the trip should take about three days. I need a few days after that to prepare, and then we can go," she said, satisfied at the guise of confidence she had managed to create.

"Of course," he said tenderly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you need." Cora smiled at him, placing her fingers over his for a moment before drawing away, the smile falling from her face. Riordan's eyes showed his concern, but he said nothing. Whatever else she had come to tell him was obviously difficult for her to speak of, so he did not push her.

"That is not all," she said, folding her hands in her lap. "You asked before about Oliver... And it is time that you know what has happened since we last saw each other."

"You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. I am caught up in something bigger than myself, and me deciding to go with you could put you or any others I am with in danger. Oliver and his men have already been searching for you in order to get to me. In all honesty, it is a wonder they did not find you." Riordan's stomach twisted, recalling his capture in Boston, which he had not yet told her of. No doubt the men who had taken him into custody were affiliated with this Oliver. Suddenly Ezekiel's words made so much more sense, but he had a feeling it was best to keep this to himself, at least until she was done saying what she needed.

Cora spoke slowly and carefully, telling her brother her story of their six years apart from the day she had run from their home, sister in tow and believing their father dead, until the day she had met Connor. Sparing no detail, however difficult to hear, she explained everything and even found herself speaking of how she and Connor had eventually become friends, and how she had come to love him. When she had detailed what Oliver had done to her, to Jane, Hannah, Henry, and countless others, he had been visibly shaken.

"I have been working for the past six months to stop him. To kill him," she said, choosing not to spare the harshness of the reality of the situation. She had no idea if her brother had ever killed anyone, and it would not be surprising if he was rather unnerved by the idea of her doing such a thing. "As well as to help Connor rid every colony of the threat of the Templars as a whole. We both got so close last month, but... Now neither of us have any solid lead. If I did, I must confess I would go after that first."

"I understand," Riordan said, and indeed he did understand – not only why in other circumstances she would not have come with him, but he also felt he understood her better. It wasn't just the events she had told him of that made him feel as though he could understand her, but in the way she spoke of them. When he first had arrived, he had been hurt and almost outraged at what he perceived to be her disinterest in their family. Now he understood why he had so failed in the initial part of their reunion, and better understood her bond with Connor, her devotion to her cause, and the complexity of things.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, his words seeming to be so completely inadequate to convey all he felt about what had happened to her. As she had spoken of Oliver's cruel deeds, he had burned with anger, himself wanting to put away the thoughts of returning to their family in favor of going after him and ending the bastard's life himself. As his blood had cooled, his desire to see his wife and son again returned, and as she continued her account, he knew she would never allow anyone else to kill the man.

Cora nodded, her demeanor cool and calm. "It is done. And it is the past. I am not the person I once was." The truth of that had hit her as she had recalled her story. Though she was still the same person at heart, with the same passion, stubbornness, and sentimentality, she felt as though in the past six months she had made another six years worth of changes. Oh, how hot headed she had been when she had first met Connor, how proud and closed-minded. Even Connor seemed so different compared with how he was at first. It had taken so long for him to share anything about himself, if he ever spoke at all, and now he was open with her with only minimal coaxing.

"I can't tell you what it means that you trusted me enough to tell me all of this," Riordan said, drawing her from her thoughts.

Raising her chin, she looked boldly into his eyes. "I am not ashamed of my past. I do not need your pity, but I appreciate your compassion," she added, laying her hand on top of his. After a few moments, she drew back, conjuring as genuine of a smile as she could. "What of you?"

Riordan looked away, sighing. "That day, Aoife and I returned and found father..." He closed his eyes, remembering the horrible sight of all the blood. "I panicked. Aoife was the one who kept her head, sent for the doctor while she tried to stop the bleeding. When I realized you and Maebh were gone, I went searching. When no one could find you, we figured you were both dead. It was chaos... The town was terrified at such a violent act, and father was in bad shape. The doctor said it was a miracle he survived, but it took months until he was out of bed, and even then he never really recovered. The loss was too great for him, I think. After he was well enough to go about on his own, he was intent on finding you, convinced you were alive. We all searched, but never found you. When we went to Aunt Nuala's, she was gone, her husband dead, the house deserted. It was too much for father... Mother, three of his children, his sister... He went mad with the desire to find you two, even if it was just to find bodies or graves. Everyone thought him deranged, but he never gave up hope..."

Riordan glanced over at his sister just as she dragged the hem of her sleeve across her cheeks. "Continue," she said, though she did not meet his eyes.

"Cora, this can wait."

"I said continue," she said sharply, though the immediate look she gave him conveyed her instant regret for her tone. Following her orders, Riordan kept going.

"After a while, Father fell ill." His throat tightened as he recalled his fever dreams, how he had called out their names. "The illness was swift, and he died quickly. After that, I tried for a while to honor him by finding you once and for all, but obviously I never did. Aoife and I were alone, and we had to make a living, so I returned home and tried to forget, assuming you were lost to us. When the war broke out, I tried to stay out of it. I didn't care at first, too focused on the farm, but Aoife had a strong sensibility for the patriot cause. She broke her engagement with a Tory and caused quite the scandal in the town," he said, smiling.

"That sounds nothing like her," Cora laughed, though her demeanor was not very jubilant. Though the story had brought a smile to her face, it was another reminder of a relationship she had missed out on.

Riordan chuckled, nodding. "I was more surprised than anyone. The war brought out a bold side of her, though, and she has even gone as far as carrying water to men during any nearby raids or battles, and has on multiple occasions taken soldiers into our house as they pass through. She is lost in the cause, it seems."

Cora hummed, trying to imagine her sister engaged in such improper things. As children, Aoife had always been so intent on propriety and being a well bred lady, so picturing her sneaking around a battlefield was almost a humorous thought. "How did you meet your wife?"

Riordan smiled at the memory. "Felicity was with Aoife the first time she brought a soldier into the house. I came home to a doctor sewing up a man's wound on our kitchen table, and was furious. Aoife, stubborn as she is when it comes to anything involving the war, refused to talk to me, so it was Felicity who argued the case. I must say, she won me over." Cora smiled as she watched him speak of her. He was evidently in love, for though the woman was not present Cora could still plainly see Riordan's devotion and affection towards her. "We married soon after, and our son was born within the year. Benjamin is three now."

"I am so glad to hear that you are happy," Cora said warmly.

"I am glad to have witnessed your happiness as well," he said, taking her hand. "I am sorry I spoke badly of Connor. He seems a good man."

A hint of a smile passed her lips and she blushed, looking down at their hands. "He is." Riordan squeezed her hand and she laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "Enough talk of sorrows," she said, swatting his shoulder. "How about a drink? Ollie and Corrine serve the best ale for miles!"

"The only ale for miles," Riordan said skeptically, drawing a laugh from Cora.

"Come now, you have never been one to shy away from a drink."

Nodding in defeat, Riordan stood, holding out his arm. Taking it, she led him toward the path. As they laughed and joked, Cora felt hopeful for her introduction to Felicity and Benjamin as well as her reunion with Aoife. Though it had not been easy with Riordan, she felt she had learned a bit about patience and understanding when it came to family expectations. Perhaps it would not be as bad as she feared.

That evening, Connor and Cora set out to Norris and Myriam's house to ask their favor in person. Of all the people who lived on the homestead, Cora could tell that besides Achilles, Connor perhaps had the closest relationship with Norris. On several occasions she had observed them sharing a joke or even a serious conversation. While Connor was not an unkind or unsociable person, he was certainly reserved, so the fact that he had shared anything personal with Norris surely meant that he was fond of him. Prudence and Ellen had even told her the story of how he had helped Norris woo Myriam. Thinking of him engaging in such behavior made her smile, especially in such times as these, when moments of lightheartedness seemed few and far between.

Myriam was the one to answer the door at Connor's knock. She had smiled broadly, obviously glad to see him, stepping aside to beckon him in. When she saw Cora however, her eyes narrowed and a scowl settled instantly on her face as she reluctantly held the door open for her to enter, as well. Cora still had no idea why the woman disliked her so strongly, but truthfully she did not care enough to ask. They rarely interacted, and Cora had no desire to mend their relationship when it was Myriam who had so quickly judged her. At least for Myriam's part, she stayed silent on the matter by ignoring her entirely, instead focusing all her attentions on Connor.

"I hope we are not intruding," he said as he took the seat that Myriam offered at the table. Their home was small yet felt very warm and inviting, which seemed so very ironic when one considered Myriam's coldness.

"Never," Myriam insisted, calling for Norris. "You know we are always glad to have you."

Norris entered with a large presence, making a grand welcoming gesture with his arms as he entered the room. "Welcome again to my humble abode," he said, smiling widely. "It is good to see you, mon ami. You have visited so infrequently in the past months."

Connor nodded, still smiling. "Things have been busy with the Templars," he said. Of all the people on the homestead, Norris and Myriam were among the few that understood anything more than the most general aspects of Connor's mission and the Assassin Order. The others knew he was involved in something, and that he had been long hunting for Charles Lee, but many assumed it had something to do with the war. Connor had long since decided it was best that they knew as little as possible in case their location were to be compromised, but after both Norris and Myriam had been with him during Assassin business, even if accidentally, they had eventually been briefed in a little more detail.

"Aye, so Achilles has said," Myriam nodded grimly as she sat across from Connor. Cora, feeling awfully out of place, took her seat next to Connor and tried to put aside her frustration at Myriam's obvious attempts to pretend she wasn't even there. "Though I hear the war may be soon coming to an end. Perhaps it will help to flush some of them out of their hiding places."

"Come now Myriam," Norris said, playfully nudging his wife's arm. "I am sure Connor did not come to speak about Assassin matters."

"No, I came to ask a favor."

"Anything for you," Norris said, leaning across the table. "What can we do?"

Connor opened his mouth to speak, but then yielded to Cora, letting her explain instead. "You remember Victoire," she began. "She lives in Boston now, and I wish to pay her a visit, but Connor refuses to allow me to venture out alone," she said, teasingly nudging him with her elbow.

Myriam sat back in her chair, instantly understanding where the conversation was headed. Crossing her arms, she slouched and said, "I am sure Cora does not need anyone watching over her."

Norris nodded in agreement, though he either did not catch or purposefully ignored Myriam's tone. "I must say, I too am shocked you did not put him in his place, as fiery a woman as you are," he laughed.

Connor smiled, glancing at Cora from the corner of his eye. "I have no doubt she would be fine, but with all that has happened recently, it would bring me comfort to know she did not travel alone. I remembered that you two were planning on visiting Boston in a few days and wondered if you would mind Cora accompanying you."

"Of course! We are leaving to visit Myriam's cousin in two days, and would be glad to have her company! As long as you promise to make your visits more frequently," he added, earning a laugh of agreement from Connor. Norris did not hesitate before answering, much to the displeasure of his wife. Without a word, Myriam pushed back from the table and left the room, visibly upset. Connor and Norris watched her leave in confusion, but Cora only sighed, rubbing her fingers over her temples. Why the woman was so staunchly against her very presence within proximity to her was, as always, an infuriating mystery.

"I am sorry," Norris muttered in bewilderment, still watching the door she had left through. "I have no idea what has her upset," he frowned, standing. "I hate to leave, but I should go see what the matter is..."

"Of course," Connor said. "Let me know if anything changes."

Norris nodded as he headed toward the door. "I will," he said hurriedly, obviously confused and concerned over his wife's reaction and anxious to see it resolved.

"That was unlike Myriam," Connor commented when they had left the house.

Cora shook her head. "She hates me."

"I am sure that is not the case."

"Please, Connor. She practically ignored me the whole time, and when she did acknowledge me it was to make backhanded comments or glare at me. Did you not notice?"

Connor furrowed his brows, unsure why he had not sensed most of the tension. "Now that you mention it, I suppose I did... Did something happen between you?"

"I wish something had, for at least then I would know what caused it. But no, she started with the glares before I had even formally met her. Every time I have tried to speak with her, it has ended badly."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"There was not much to tell, at least until now. We have exchanged some harsh words, but mostly we steer clear of each other. I never thought it big enough a problem to worry you over."

Connor hummed, perplexed by Myriam's behavior. He knew the woman to be stubborn and bold, not unlike Cora, but he did not know her to treat someone badly without cause. Yet he was also sure that Cora would have explained if something truly had happened between them to give cause for such animosity. Perhaps Myriam was only caught up in some misunderstanding that needed to be aired out. "You should have told me when I suggested you go with them, I would have thought of something else. I do not want you to be uncomfortable."

Cora looped her hand around his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I will manage. It's a short ride to Boston, after all."

"Did you speak with Riordan?" Connor felt her step falter for a moment, and though she kept on, her face turned to stone. "Did something happen?"

"He was more than agreeable about my desire to visit Victoire in Boston. But that was not all we talked about..." She slowed her pace as she spoke, and soon she dropped her hold on his arm, taking a step away and resting her hands on her hips. Sighing, she looked away, her lips drawn tightly together. "I told him about Oliver," she said quietly. "And he told me about my father, about what happened... after..." Biting her lip, she sat down with a sigh, brushing her hand over her face before leaning back, resting her hand behind her head. Connor sat next to her, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked straight forward, a troubled look on his face.

"That is the hardest thing to bear," she whispered after a while, sitting up. "Knowing that for years I had given up, had thought them all dead, and yet he was out there looking for me." Tears stung her eyes and she squeezed them shut, not in any mood to lose control of her emotions. Even so, the evidence of her distress did not go unnoticed, and Connor wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. Words would not suffice to ease her pain, that much he knew from his own experience. They had spoken so frequently of their parents recently, and Connor was unsure how it made him feel... For so long he had put away the thoughts of his mother and father, but now it was as if he was being forced to deal with them all over again.

They sat like that for a while, but soon Cora craned her neck to look at him, a weary smile upon her lips. "When did we become so serious?"

Connor laughed softly, pulling back so he could look at her. In soft light of the evening sun, she seemed to glow. Absentmindedly, he reached out and touched her cheek, and though she gave him a broad smile, he still caught sight of the flush upon her cheeks. "You know I am incapable of having fun," he said, teasing at his own expense.

Giving a grim nod, Cora clucked her tongue. "It is true. They all tried to warn me, but what did I do? I ignored them like the fool I am," she said dramatically. Connor smiled, rolling his eyes all the same as he stood and held his hand out to her. Accepting the gesture, she used his hands to pull herself up, but when she was firmly on her feet he did not let go. Instead, he pulled her close and gave her a long, lingering kiss. Sometimes it still struck him how comfortable and easy it was to be in her presence. There was no need for guarding himself, no need to be cautious or to be anything except completely open. For the first time, he could see something more for himself than a life spent killing and fighting. Perhaps when this was over, they could both move on from their pasts. It was not that he no longer supported the Assassin cause – certainly he did, and he would continue to fight to uphold its principles. Yet all the same, he had become so tied up in things that had never been part of his goals. All that had happened with Washington, with Kanen'tó:kon and his people... Those were only examples of the effects of having taken a path that had led him so astray from what he at wanted at the beginning. Yet he could not be too bitter, for that path had led him to Cora, and that alone made the burden easier to bear.

Though the ride to Boston was only a day, the tension of her travels with Norris and Myriam made it seem much longer. Norris was his normal cheerful self, but Myriam almost continuously glared at her, leaving a rather awkward dynamic amongst the group. Snide comments were plentiful, and in that Cora was admittedly just as guilty. At midday, they stopped for a while to rest and water the horses, and Cora struggled to keep from earning a look of annoyance from her. It seemed no matter what she did, Myriam found it outrageous and offensive. Though they had certainly had their share of disagreements in Cora's time at the homestead, she had never quite been able to discern the place from which Myriam's dislike of her stemmed.

Though she had resolved not to allow Myriam's behavior to ruin her mood, Cora kept her distance to avoid further provoking her. She walked a ways upstream for some privacy, the few moments of solitude a welcome respite after a long day of travel. Taking her time, she filled her canteen and splashed some water on her face, then headed back toward the others. As she approached, she paused when she heard hushed voices, her hand resting on her pistol just in case. Once she realized it was only Norris and Myriam, she relaxed, but when she came close enough to make out what they were saying, she stopped, positioning herself behind a tree as she listened.

"You are being too rough, Myriam," Norris said gently.

Evidently, the huntress was not in a mood to concede to her husband. "The hell I am! She is selfish and blinded by pride. Since she has been here, she has distracted Connor and complicated everything, though she does not seem to care as long as she gets to use him for his connections. Not to mention for her carnal pleasure."

Flushed, Cora stood seething behind the tree, fighting the urge to reveal herself and give the woman a piece of her mind. It was Norris who stayed her with his words of defense.

"Come now, Myriam, what has she ever done to warrant such words? She has always been perfectly good company, and Connor seems to care deeply for her."

Cora heard Myriam scoff. "He would, wouldn't he? She is a temptress, a whore, and a liar. He has fallen into her trap, like many have before, and many will again." The bitterness in her voice was unflinching and merciless, and suddenly their words faded away. Is that truly what people thought of her? Here she was, having thought she had found a home... Though Norris seemed to be coming to her defense, who knew if any of the others agreed with Myriam's sentiments.

Unable to bear any more, she fled back to the stream, sitting beside it and letting her hand run against its flow. Perhaps once she would have disregarded these words without a second thought, but now she could not deny their keen sting. Drawing her hand out of the water, she lay back and closed her eyes, trying to put what she had heard behind her. After all, she had spent so much time with Prudence, and many of those who lived on the Homestead always greeted her warmly if she passed by. Surely if they thought so negatively of her, she would know about it... Right?

The crack of a stick had her jolting into a sitting position, drawing her pistol without a second thought. When her eyes revealed it was only Norris, who stood with his hands in the air and a slightly terrified look in his eye, she cursed under her breath before relaxing. "I am so sorry, Norris, I did not realize it was you."

"It is my fault," he said with a chuckle, shaking his head. "I should have known. Connor is the same way... Can't be sneaking up on you types!" As Cora got to her feet, she apologized again, but he waved his hand, dismissing her. "Nothing to worry about," he said, smiling warmly. "I was just coming to say we had better get going."

"Of course."

When they returned, Myriam was waiting for them, evidently having finished preparing everything for the rest of the journey. "About time," she quipped. "I told you it would be a waste to go further upstream."

Trying to hold her composure, Cora gave her a flat stare. "You are right. My apologies, I would not want to be considered selfish." Myriam's cheeks flushed, but Cora was not quite finished. "I suppose I was rather blinded by my prideful desire for some solitude." At this, Myriam looked away, and Cora did not miss the sharp look that Norris gave her. "In any case, I am here now. Let's be off, shall we?"

She swung her leg over the mare's back and settled in the saddle, refusing to acknowledge either of her companions as she clucked her tongue and urged Ealga forward. The rest of the ride was full of a thick, silent tension, and Cora was relieved when Boston finally came into view. When they entered the city, Myriam announced she would be heading straight for her cousin's house instead of seeing Cora to her destination. Though Norris protested, Myriam won out in the end, and Cora was glad for it. When she was well out of earshot, Norris let out a long sigh before turning sheepishly to Cora.

"What all did you hear?"

"Enough," she muttered angrily, though she tried to soften her tone. After all, Norris had been nothing but kind to her. He did not deserve her ire.

"Cora, I am so sorry. I do not understand why Myriam feels this way... I think you a fine, upstanding woman. I know Connor cares a great deal for you."

"Thank you," she said quietly, managing a small smile. All her attempts at rationalizing away Myriam's words had only caused her to dwell more heavily upon them. As her anger had grown, so had her fear that the other citizens of the Homestead shared Myriam's sentiments. After all, it was Cora who was the outsider, not Myriam. If they were to trust anyone's word, it would be hers. Norris' words, while kind and thoughtful, somehow did nothing to quell the thoughts.

Norris saw her safely to her Victoire's street, and they parted with the agreement of meeting at Molineaux's the morning they were to depart, yet Norris did not leave before he made another long set of apologies. Anxious to see her friend, she stepped up eagerly to the door, but just as she was about to knock, a familiar voice called out to her.

"Cora? What in the world are you doing here?" Victoire wore a look of genuine surprise on her face, quickly setting the crate she was carrying onto the ground before gathering Cora into a rough embrace.

"I sent a letter ahead, did you not receive it?"

Drawing back, a perplexed look crossed the other woman's face. "No, I did not." Not bothering to think twice, she took Cora's arm, smiling. "It is of no consequence now. You are here! It has only been weeks and it feels as though I have not seen you in months."

"I fear that is about to be the case," Cora said solemnly, her words changing the mood of the reunion. Victoire gave her a concerned look before picking up the crate she had been carrying and leading her into the house. Once everything had been brought inside, Victoire led Cora to the kitchen table, motioning for her to sit.

"You recieved my letter about Oliver, then?"

Cora sighed, nodding. "Yes. I felt this was best discussed in person," she said, though she decided to leave out the other things she had truly come here to talk about, at least temporarily. "Have you found him?"

"Not quite," Victoire said, visibly hesitant. "I thought I had found his hiding place, but it seems to me now that he moves around often, never staying in the same place for too long. On the bright side, I do know he is in Boston, and has been for months. I doubt he will change that any time soon. I also think there may be a way to get ahead of him, to figure out where he will be before he is there."

Unsure what to feel, Cora looked away. Though part of her wanted nothing more than to know exactly where Oliver was, the complicated circumstances with her brother and her decision to find her family made her wish that there was no sign of him, so at least she would not feel as though she was making the wrong choice.

Victoire sighed at Cora's obvious disappointment, wishing she had more to tell her. "I am sorry, mon amie, I know this is not what you wanted to hear."

"You are right," Cora said after a few moments, looking up at her friend with uncertainty. "Though not for the reason you think."

"What are you not telling me?"

"When Connor and I returned to the homestead, my brother was there," she said in a small voice. Victoire's eyes widened, her shock plain enough for anyone to see.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing at first. Neither of us could really believe the other was actually alive... But after a while it seemed he could do nothing but urge me to go with him."

The blonde scoffed, falling short of rolling her eyes. "He truly asked such a thing of you?"

"I reacted much the same way at first, but now..." She trailed off, not wanting to hear the words she knew Victoire would say. She was nothing if not direct, and though she was always mindful of others' feelings, she also would not hesitate to voice her disagreement.

"Now..?" At her silence, Victoire searched her friend's face, shocked to find her goals so changed. When Cora still did not speak, Victoire sat straighter, leaning toward her with a stern look. "Please do not tell me you have agreed."

With a sharp look, Cora broke her silence. "I have."

"Cora, think this through! We are so close to-"

"We? Oliver is my fight, Victoire. I get to decide what is and isn't done."

Knowing aggression would get her nowhere, Victoire softened her tone. "Cora, listen to me. I understand your desire to be reunited with your family. I know it must be difficult, but think of how far you have come! If we set to it, I have no doubt we could find Oliver within the month, and finally be rid of him. They say the British will surrender at Yorktown. The Templar cause is crumbling from within, torn apart by all the discord, and Oliver is no exception. He is weak. This is the time."

"Do you think I have not thought about that?"

"And what about Connor? Have you gone through so much, only to throw it all away?"

Cora crossed her arms, frustration building. Perhaps she had expected Victoire to be displeased with her decision, but she had not foreseen such a strong reaction as this. "You make it seem as though I am leaving forever," she said, her frustration and confusion beginning to seep into her words.

"You may as well be. Who knows how long it will take you to find them! By then, you may have lost the opportunity to find Oliver, not to mention how your relationship with Connor will suffer."

Just as Cora opened her mouth to rebuke her for making such claims, the door opened, Duncan's smiling face seeming so misplaced in the midst of the heated argument.

"Cora! Stephane said he saw you arrive, but I was not sure..." As he took stock of the women's body language, his face changed. "Am I interrupting something?"

Victoire turned back to Cora, completely ignoring Duncan's arrival. "You will lose everything," she warned, her voice steady but harsh. At this, Cora had heard enough.

"Of all people, I hardly expected this from you," she hissed, turning her back and heading toward the door. Duncan quickly stepped aside, not daring to stand in her way. When the door had slammed and Cora was gone, he turned back to Victoire with a bewildered look.

"What was that?"

Slouching back in the chair, Victoire rolled her eyes. "If I only knew."

"Back to bickering like an old couple, eh?" Though he had a teasing smile on his face, Victoire looked anything but amused. Sighing, he sat across from her. "What happened?"

"She is choosing to leave everything she has worked for! All because her brother showed up out of nowhere and begged her to go home with him."

"Victoire... That is her family. From what you have told me, is that not what she has dreamed of forever?"

"Yes, but..." Crossing her arms, Victoire sighed. "You do not understand. She has come so far, Duncan. Oliver is so close! And Connor... Though he may support her, I have no doubt he will be hurt by this. Especially after all that has happened."

"Have you considered that she already knew those things?" Duncan suggested.

"Then why did she come to ask my opinion?"

"Maybe she needed a friend to reassure her that she was making the right choice."

"But she is not making the right choice!"

"Perhaps she feels that she could never forgive herself if she forsake her family after so many years."

"Yet she will forsake her mission? Forsake Connor? All without a second glance?"

"I think you are being too hard on her. You know as well as I that these choices are not simple. Sometimes, a choice must be made for the self in order to benefit the whole."

Sighing, Victoire looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when are you such a philosopher?"

"Since I had to learn to keep up with you," he teased, nudging her foot under the table. Finally, Victoire broke her stern look, her lips curving into a smile.

Grumbling, she pushed her foot back against his. "I hate when you are the level minded one." Duncan got up while she spoke, walking behind her chair as she watched him with a suspicious eye.

"One cannot be right all the time," he said, shrugging. Resting his hands on the corners of the chair, he leaned close. "It might lead to a large ego."

Victoire gaped at him, feigning offense as she swatted his hands away. "Says you," she laughed. Duncan grinned back at her, his lips drawing into a broad smile. Standing, Victoire sighed, glancing at the door. Perhaps she had been a bit too harsh. After all, if their places had been reversed, she would have wanted a kind word and support, even if Cora did not agree with her.

"Should you go after her?"

"No," Victoire said, shaking her head. "She will come back when she is ready." Going after her would no doubt make things worse, and there was no need to run after her when she probably desired time alone. She would come back when she was ready, and though Victoire hoped she would return more open to changing her mind, she knew she must give her support even if she did not.

Connor filled Cora's absence by overseeing the repairs on the Aquila and busying himself trying to orchestrate new plans to catch Lee. Even if he had to plan meticulously for months on end, he was determined not to fail again. It had been long enough, and he had lost so much already in his attempts to end the man's life and prevent the seeds of a new country from being contaminated by the Templars' reach.

Earlier, he had talked for a while with Achilles. He seemed to be on the path to recovery, but Connor still worried about him. Though they were often at odds, Connor had come to love him, and though he would never admit it he suspected the old man returned the feelings. Achilles had been Connor's only constant since he had left Kanatahséton, and there was no denying how important he had become to him. Despite the fact that he was not overly warm and was always blunt in his opinions, Connor knew the old man cared for him. Imagining his absence was not something Connor could bear, especially not now...

News had come that many expected the British to finally surrender at Yorktown, which was good to hear indeed. The Templars were already divided into factions of those who had decided to keep serving the British and those who had thrown their support behind the idea of the fledgling America. No doubt the end of the war would leave them in further chaos, which would give Connor the best chance to take out Lee, one that he may not see again for a while. What was left to be seen was in what direction Lee would lead the Templars. Would he try to get back into Washington's good graces and take part in forming the new government? Would he fade into the shadows, working to reunify and strengthen the Templars before taking further action?

For the first time in a while, Connor felt as though he had little direction. Perhaps naively, he had been so certain that the effort at Fort George would succeed that he had not thought to create any kind of plan in case it were to fail. Now he was surely feeling the consequences of his lack of foresight, as it seemed there were so many paths before him. Trying to discern which would lead to Lee's death would no doubt prove more challenging than he desired.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, away from the piles of notes and correspondence concerning Templar activity, speculation about Lee's location, and a myriad of other things the Assassins had thought important to pass onto him. Admittedly, he had not been giving the ever increasing piles of paper as much attention as he should have been. Between dealing with the appearance of Cora's brother and what happened at New York, he had already been too overwhelmed to be able to focus on it, yet now he regretted having put it off for so long.

Achilles had scolded him enough for his lack of drive when they had spoken earlier. For a while, they had discussed the splintering Templar factions and what it might mean for Lee's capture. Though the impending end to the war was only inflaming the divisions between the different opinions within the Templars, especially with Haytham no longer there to unite them, a core still remained loyal to Lee. It seemed despite being cast out by Washington and no longer able to hold control over the Templars as a whole, he still carried influence in the colonies. This, at least, would make him easier to root out. The more Lee did, the easier it would be to find him.

Even with this renewed sense of there being a way forward, however muddied the picture of it was, his focus remained lacking. Achilles had made no hesitation to call him out on it, and Connor had endured several minutes of the old man's lecture. Truthfully, Connor did not know why he felt so distant from all of it. It wasn't that he no longer felt the urgency to find Lee – on the contrary, he wanted more than ever to be rid of the man once and for all. Instead, he felt almost numb to all of it. Perhaps he was still trying to sort out his feelings about his father's death, or perhaps Riordan's arrival had given him distraction. Whatever it was, he needed to push it away and focus on the finding a path that would lead him to the demise of Charles Lee.

A/N: Wow, this is turning out way more angst-y than I had planned, but hopefully the story takes a better turn soon! Sometimes they just have a mind of their own... Okay, so I know it's been way too long since I've last posted (what's new...). I've been struggling with one final scene in this chapter, and it's nearly done, but since it's already been so long I decided to go ahead and split it into two, especially since I just surpassed the 20,000 word mark and that's just too long for one single chapter. So expect the next one within the next few days! April and early May were madness for me finishing up school, so I really struggled to find time to write. Couple that with my terrible writers block, and you have a recipe for disaster. We are really nearing the end now! I can't imagine there will be more than 7-10 more chapters, which I am HOPING to finish before the start of the next semester, though I think that's a bit too lofty of a goal. Now, to reviews! Thanks to all who reviewed, followed, and favorited, your support means so much! I can't believe how many hits this story has gotten, I never imagined having so many! Also, just a PSA: Don't be surprised or freak out thinking I have disappeared if I change my screenname, I've been considering it for a long time and am just trying to decide on a new one.

HaywireEagle - Thank you so much, what a compliment! Hopefully I continue not to disappoint in this regard! I usually prefer non OC stories as well, so it's somewhat ironic that I'm writing one with an OC...

themadgears - Thank YOU for continuing to support! I'm glad I was able to convey some of that emotion in the way I hoped!