Chapter Twenty-Eight;

Patience

"The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom."

Maya Angelou, Caged Bird

Late September, 1782

Charles Lee had finally stepped out of the shadows. After months of tracking his every move in hopes for an opportunity to strike, Connor finally had his chance. Apparently, Lee had decided to make an attempt to attract more followers by holding a speaking engagement in New York. Connor was under no illusions that his presence would be a surprise – Lee had to know that he would be found. This made Connor cautious, especially after his previous attempts to take Lee's life, but he refused to let doubt overcome him. This plan was strong where all the others had been weak, and he was confident it would not go awry, but even if it did he would not let it waver his resolve. No matter how long it took, he would never rest until Lee was dead and the Templars were destroyed.

As time went on and intelligence missions came and went, he found his heart growing harder. Perhaps it was his mind's way of preparing for the task that lay ahead, or perhaps he was truly losing himself. Either way, it mattered little now. Still, he often wondered what Achilles would have said about his evolving demeanor, had he been alive. Since the old man had died, Connor felt more alone than ever, even when he was surrounded by other Assassins or his fellow citizens on the Homestead. No matter how hard he tried to put Cora out of his mind, he couldn't. It was evident now that she was not coming back, but it seemed as though she was always there just beyond his reach – in memories, in his dreams... And he could not escape thoughts of Myriam's warning, either. Part of him refused to believe that Cora would betray him, but the idea still haunted him, refusing to be snuffed out.

Aoife sighed dreamily, holding her dress against her body. "I love weddings," she said, practically singing the words.

"Perhaps it is because you wish to be next," Maebh said softly. Aoife pushed her away, laughing to try to hide the blush that crept up her neck and flourished against her cheek. "We all know it's true," Maebh said, her eyebrows raised.

Aoife looked at Cora for help, but she just laughed, throwing up her hands. "You two are the worst," Aofie said, smiling all the while.

Laughing, Maebh continued her dramatization, throwing one hand over her heart and resting the other over her forehead. "Oh, Nate!" Aoife lunged for her youngest sister, who squealed and jumped atop the bed, screaming something about a Mrs. Aoife Lawson.

Cora laughed, shaking her head as she finished braiding her hair. "Don't look so haughty, sister," Aofie said. "We all know your true love is out there pining for your return."

"Aoife," she warned. "Don't go there."

"Oh, you're no fun," she said, jumping off the bed and pinching the back of her sister's arm.

"There is no need for violence, sister," Cora teased.

Felicity's knock interrupted the teasing insult that hung on Aoife's tongue. "Are you decent?" She asked, stepping inside once the sisters answered. Cora set her brush down when Felicity entered, in awe of the woman's beauty. They were to attend the wedding of the son of an old family friend, Aoife's long awaited opportunity for socializing and pretty dresses. Felicity's elegance was without compare – everything about her dress was the epitome of tastefulness.

"You look beautiful," Maebh said, equally struck by her sister-in-law.

"Our brother is a lucky man indeed," Aoife agreed, her words making Felicity blush.

"Enough flattery," she said, laughing. "I only came to tell you we need to leave soon, not to have you inflame my ego."

"I am all but ready," Aoife said. "It's Cora here who is holding us down."

"Me? All I have to do is finish dressing!"

"You can't seriously intend to go with your hair like that," Aoife said, picking up her sister's braid.

Cora snatched it back, rolling her eyes at her sister's tastes. "There is nothing wrong with my braid." Aoife scoffed, as if Cora had personally insulted her.

"Oh, let me do it, won't you? It's just for one day..."

"Fine, as long as you wipe that pout off your face," she relented, sinking in the chair. "And keep it simple... I do not want some juge next on my head." Felicity laughed, shaking her head as she closed the door behind her. As Aoife worked, Maebh finished getting dressed. When she was done, she walked out from behind the dressing screen, and Aoife's hands paused as they watched her walk forward.

"You look beautiful, Maebh," Cora said softly.

"Do you think so?"

"Absolutely," Aoife confirmed. "If you aren't careful, you'll upstage the bride." With these words of affirmation from her elder sisters, Maebh beamed, smoothing her dress to ensure all was perfect. It was strange for Cora to witness her younger sister's innocence, her excitement... Though only four years separated the two, Cora felt as if she was decades older. Though Maebh was not without her own emotional scars from what she had been through, sometimes when she looked at her sister, Cora felt as though she was looking at what her life could have been had things gone a different way. When she was her age, she had already helped her friend through childbirth, had already seen the horrors of the world in a way she hoped Maebh never would.

When Aoife was finished with her hair, she handed her a mirror, obviously satisfied with her work. Cora turned her head to the side, inspecting her sister's work. She had to admit that it made her look elegant in a way she did not think she could.

"What do you think?"

"I like it," she admitted.

"I won't say I told you so," she said, moving to the bed where her dress was set out.

"You just did," Maebh said, raising her eyebrow. Aoife laughed, rolling her eyes as she asked her to help fasten her gown.

When they were all finished, they met the others downstairs. Cora was the first to descend the steps. "You look lovely," Riordan said softly. She felt rather lovely, if she was honest. She had selected a simple dress of near solid green, with only minimal embroidery compared to the patterns that the more fashionable ladies wore, her sister included. It had always been that way – while Aoife had glowed in whatever was the newest fashion, Cora had always preferred a simpler version.

"You aren't so bad yourself," she said, elbowing him in the side. Since winter, they had improved their relationship somewhat. Mostly, Riordan had learned not to bring up Connor, and Cora had learned the best way to bring up Oliver. Though they still were not as close as she hoped they would become when they were first reunited, she had begun to see hope for them.

As Aoife and Maebh came down the stairs, she observed Nate as he watched her elder sister come towards them. It was clear to everyone that he was absolutely besotted with her. When he had delayed his departure for the third time, it was clear that he was rather serious about her.

The wedding itself was a lovely affair. Cora had known the groom when she was a girl, as their families had lived on adjacent farms. Though she had only spoken to him briefly during the past few months, she was glad to see him so happy. Yet every time they joined hands or shared a dance, it was all she could do not to think about Connor. No matter how hard she tried, she could not shake her longing.

It seemed the entire township had come together to provide a wedding feast for the young couple. Between the abundant food, dancing, and card games, Cora eventually began to enjoy herself. After several hands of whist, Felicity stood.

"I think I will retire," she said, laying her cards down on the table.

Maebh sighed, sitting back in her chair. "Do you have to?"

"I have a little one at home who is likely quite hungry, and I doubt your aunt wants to be left with her all night in such a state," Felicity said. Cora smiled at the mention of her niece. Helena was nearing six months old now, and one of the biggest joys she had experienced in her time here was the girl's birth and growth. Witnessing Felicity give birth was altogether terrifying and amazing. Perhaps the most magical part was when Helena had given her first cry... It was a strange thing to see – before, there had been five living beings in the room, and with a single breath, there had been six. Equally amazing was to see the child learn and grow more with each passing day, so quickly that suddenly she seemed twice as big as she had been without anyone having noticed.

A few minutes after Felicity had departed, Maebh sighed once more, leaning against the table. Cora could see her watching Aoife and Nate dancing together, lovesick smiles plastered all over their faces.

"What is it?" she asked, watching her younger sister carefully. Maebh shrugged, her eyes still following Aoife's every move. "I am sure there are many present who would love to dance with you," Cora encouraged. Indeed, she had kept her eye on a young man who had been watching her sister, but was obviously too nervous to request a dance.

"That isn't it," she said, looking up at her. "It's just... We have only just come together, and now she will be leaving to be his wife..."

"Maebh," Cora said softly, putting a hand over her sister's, "do not fear such a thing. It isn't as if you will never see her again! And besides, it isn't as if she is getting married tomorrow! They aren't even engaged."

"I know, but..."

"This is the way of life," she said gently. "It would not have been any different if Mother and Father were still here... And if they do marry, you will see her often. We won't cease to be a family just because some of us live in different places. We always have a way of returning to the ones we love."

Maebh nodded, sighing again as she glanced toward them again. But just when Cora thought she had finished the matter, her sister turned her words against her. "Will you return to the one you love?" Shocked by her sister's bluntness, Cora said nothing.

"I see the way you look when you think about him," the girl said, looking her sister in the eye.

"Some things aren't so simple," Cora said finally.

"Remember what Mother used to say? They those who truly love one another always find a way to forgive?" Cora looked hard at her younger sister, wondering when she had become like this.

"It doesn't always work like that... Some things cannot be forgiven."

"Maybe. But I hear the way you talk about him with Aunt Nuala... And everyone knows that you think about him all the time... Maybe he is doing the same thing."

"Why do you have to be so..."

"Wise?" Maebh smiled, pushing her shoulders back and giving her a stubborn smile.

"I was going to say annoying," she said, playfully pushing her away. It seemed her sister truly was wise beyond her years, but even so, Cora had a hard time accepting it.

"I don't think I will ever get married," Maebh said after a while, watching the group of dancers once again.

"Why not?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I just can't imagine myself as a wife, is all," Maebh said, twisting her face as she said the word 'wife.'

"All of us must choose our own path," Cora answered. "All that matters is that you choose what will make you the most happy." Maebh nodded, smiling at her the validation of her sister's words. Just then, Cora spied the boy she had noticed watching them. He had edged closer and closer to the table, his eyes nervously flitting between Maebh and anything else he could manage to look at. Recognizing her opportunity for revenge, she grabbed her sisters hand.

"But just because you do not wish to get married, it doesn't mean you can't enjoy a dance," she said, motioning to the boy behind Maebh's shoulder. When her sister looked in the direction she had pointed in, she quickly turned back to the front, blushing furiously. Grinning, Cora tried to push her toward him.

"Fine," she said in a huff. "But only if you promise to abide by your own advice and do what will make you the most happy."

"I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?" Maebh said mischievously. "Speak true?"

Cora rolled her eyes, trying to hold back her laugh. "Use my words against me."

"It's only because you know I'm right," she said haughtily. Finally, Cora's laugh broke through.

"Just go," she said, pushing her sister toward the boy. She watched as Maebh asked him to dance. The poor boy almost fell over himself agreeing, though Maebh was obviously rather embarrassed herself. As she watched them begin to dance, she noticed someone walking up to her.

The man standing before her was tall and rather handsome, his blond hair tied neatly behind his head. He extended his hand to her, and as he did so, she found kindness in his dark eyes. "May I have a dance?"

Under normal circumstances, Cora would have declined. In this moment, however, she still felt playful and bold after her conversation with Maebh, and so she found herself taking his hand. As he pulled her near the other dancers, he motioned to Maebh and her dancing partner. "It looks as if my brother finally mustered the nerve to ask her to dance," he said, smiling.

"Actually, I think it was she who asked him," Cora laughed as they parted for a moment, spinning with another partner before joining back together.

"Is that so? Poor lad has always been the shiest of us," he said, smiling as he shook his head.

"What is his name?"

"Henry," he said as they parted once more. At this, Cora smiled and gave a polite nod, though she was sure the sadness was evident on her face.

"Is something amiss?"

"I once had a good friend with that name," she said softly. "He passed away..."

The man furrowed his brow in sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice genuine.

Cora shook her head, trying to manage a more pleasant smile. "I am afraid I missed your name."

"Philip," he said, bowing his head slightly. "And yours?"

"Cora."

"And how do you know the groom, Cora?"

"We played together as children," she said. "But I have only recently returned here... Fate kept me away for a long time."

"Ah, fate," he said, smiling. "A great ally, or a most formidable foe..."

"Indeed," she laughed. As she responded, Philip's face changed, and he cocked his head to the side, studying her face as if to try to recognize her.

"Forgive me if I am wrong, but did you know Eamon Reilly?"

Cora nodded. "He was my father," she said as she turned away from him, taking the arm of another man as they did a partner change. "Did you know him?" she asked when they came together again.

"My mother is Mary Glendenning, from St. Mary's." Cora nodded, vaguely remembering the woman who had attended the same church as her father.

"Are you Catholic, then?"

"In name," he laughed as they spun once more, "to my mother's chagrin." Cora laughed as well, surprised that she was so enjoying herself.

"Are you married?"

Cora raised her brows, and Philip laughed, apologizing. "I apologize for my bluntness."

"I am not." Philip hummed at her answer, and as the dance ended, they retreated from the dancing area, where Maebh still seemed to be enjoying herself. "What?" She asked, curious as to the reason behind his reaction.

"You were watching them with so much longing," he said softly, leaning in as if to tell her a secret as he motioned toward the bride and groom, "I was sure you had someone waiting for you." At this, Cora felt her cheeks flush, though she was not sure why.

"Don't be embarrassed... I only know that look because I have felt it, too."

At this, Cora looked up at him, surprised by his willingness to express such feelings to someone who was essentially a stranger to him. "Are you married, then? Is your wife at home while you dance with other women?" she teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

He laughed softly, but soon his smile faded. "No," he said quietly, his voice small as he stared at the ground for a moment before returning to look at her. "I was married two years ago, but I lost her... And our newborn son." Cora looked away, regretting her words.

"I'm so sorry," she said, wishing she could come up with more sufficient words.

"It's alright," he said sadly. "I have learned that she would not want me to wallow in my misery... She would want me to be happy – as I would have, if our roles had been reversed." Cora nodded, wishing she was better at coming up with appropriate words in such situations. After a moment, Philip looked at her. "Will you walk with me?" Cora nodded, and the two of them ventured off. It was only then that she realized it was nearly dusk.

After what felt like several minutes of silence, Cora finally spoke. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How... How do you go on? How do you bear the longing, the loneliness..."

"You don't," he said simply. "I didn't... I couldn't stand it. I let it consume me for a long time, but then I realized it was doing nothing to help me. My sorrow wouldn't bring her back... All it was doing was robbing me of a life I could live to honor her memory, and the memory of what we had together." Cora listened carefully but said nothing, unsure how to form the words she wanted to say, and wondering why she was being so vulnerable with a complete stranger.

"Have you lost someone?" he asked perceptively, watching her as she tried to think out her reply.

"Not in the way you have, but..."

"But it feels rather the same, doesn't it?"

Cora turned her face away, suddenly ashamed for drawing a comparison between her situation and the death of this man's wife. It seemed that her silence was all the answer he needed.

"Grief is a funny thing, Cora. It does not choose when or how to manifest itself, or under what circumstances... But as it says in God's word, there is a time for everything." Philip stopped, taking off his hat as he faced her. "A time to weep, and a time to laugh." He briefly touched her cheek with the back of his index finger, as if to make a reference to her smile. "A time to mourn, and a time to dance..." He paused, carefully gauging her reaction as he spread his hand on the side of her neck. When she showed no sign of rejecting his touch, he continued. "A time to hate..." He stepped closer, so that she could feel his jacket brush against the bodice of her dress. As he spoke again, her hand curled around his elbow as if on its own. "And a time to love," he whispered. Before she could stop herself, she found herself leaning closer, until their foreheads were nearly touching.

His kiss was sweet and gentle, his fingertips soft against the skin of her neck. She could easily see herself getting lost in it, though she had known him for scarcely an hour. But as his hand moved from her neck to her waist, all she could think of was Connor's touch, and she pushed him away, knowing she should not take advantage of the situation to temporarily fill the places that loneliness had left bare.

"I can't," she breathed, covering her lips with her hand.

Philip stepped back, putting his hat back on. "I understand," he said softly, giving her a half smile. Cora had no doubt that neither of them had intended for things to go that far... Perhaps they were both seeking temporary relief from heartache, but in the long run she knew it would only make it worse for her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have..."

"Please don't apologize. There is nothing to be sorry for." Cora nodded, looking awkwardly at the grass, unsure what to do next. "May I at least walk you back?" he asked, filling the silence.

"I think I am going to go home instead, but you are welcome to accompany me."

The two walked in silence, both trying to decide if they regretted what had happened, regardless of if anything would ever come of it. She did regret it in a way, but she did not judge herself too harshly... One kiss to ease her loneliness, though she knew it would not last more than tonight. Only one person could fulfill her desire for companionship, and he was certainly not present at the wedding party.

When they finally reached the house, it was Philip who spoke. "Even if we never see one another again," he said with a kind smile, "remember what I said. Don't let it consume you... Life fully. If not for whoever this person is, then for yourself."

A thank you hung on Cora's lips, interrupted by screams in the direction of the wedding party. Both of them turned, confused, but when Cora heard gunshots she bolted indoors, racing up the stairs to grab her pistol and knives.

"What is that?" Nuala asked frantically as Cora came down the stairs.

"I don't know," she said. "Take the rifle and don't let anyone inside," she said, not bothering to ensure it was done before heading toward the wedding. She trusted to her aunt to do what was necessary to protect her family – in that, she had already proved more than capable. Though Philip yelled after her, she did not waste a moment to acknowledge him or anyone else. Instead, she picked up her skirts and ran, thankful that she had chosen such a simple dress. By the time she was close enough to see what was going on, all she could make out were redcoats, which left her completely confused. The war was over, and she doubted they would attack unwarranted.

As she grew closer, she recognized the blue coats of the continentals. Templars. Only they would pull off such a stunt, meant to confuse the victims and conceal their identity. Cora was not afraid. All she felt was anger and purpose flowing through her, but by the time she arrived on the scene, there was nothing to be done – all of them had disappeared.

"What happened?" she asked a frightened guest, who looked shaken but otherwise alright.

It was then that she heart Riordan's frantic voice.

"They took her," he screamed as he ran toward her. Cora had never heard or seen him so terrified, but she felt nothing... It couldn't be... "They took Maebh!" It was only when she caught sight of her sister's face that she realized it was true.

Freezing, she dropped to her knees. It couldn't be... She had sworn this would never happen... And she had failed.

A/N: So, as you can see much time has passed in the narrative of the story - about 10 months, give or take. We now follow Cora and Connor's separate journeys to accomplish their respective goals. Only time will tell what happens... My (tentative) goal is to get another chapter out before the semester begins in a few weeks, and hopefully will be able to continue to update semi-regularly. At this point, I believe I am looking at about 5 more chapters, give or take. Originally, I had planned for 30 chapters, but that just isn't playing out, so we'll see what the final count is! Either, way, we're nearing the end! I can't believe that the end is in sight for this story... Since I first began to write little stories when I was 9/10, I haven't EVER finished a single one. It will be such a great feeling to finally have finished something, even if I started this story in 2013... :) Then again, I just realized the word count on this story is 227,231, not including this chapter. It's crazy to look at that number and compare it to other novels... To think this story is almost as long as Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is REALLY blowing my mind. Perhaps it will make me feel better that it's taken me two and a half years to get to this point... I can absolutely see it in my writing if I go read the story back. Some things I just cringe at, but hey, that's what happens.

Thank you to all reviewers, followers, and favorite-ers! Your support is so appreciated and I can't begin to convey how much it helps me to motivate myself to get another chapter out to you.

Bones McCoy - Thanks so much for your review, I always look forward to them! Your kind words were MY Christmas present, haha!