ZIIO

This is it.

My last day at the Kenway homestead was like winter: upon me far too soon, and gone before I could appreciate its beauty. It was cold; bitter. It stirred up storms inside, tearing me apart, putting the pieces back together and making me a different woman. From the moment I awoke, everything had changed.

That's odd...that letter was sealed yesterday.

I was too emotionally drained to care. Too tired, despite a full night's sleep. Rest alone couldn't fill the hole in my heart.

Throughout the day, I was faced with a dilemma. Haytham avoided any contact with me all day. We ate meals together; I retreated to my chamber and he to the stable. I had a feeling it wasn't to care for his horse. It was because he – like me – was weak. Another intimacy, and we'd both collapse. Why was I acting like this? I thought I was strong.

As my ache grew worse, so did my attachment to him. Should I tell him how I feel? I only had one chance. But no – it would only make our parting harder. Was the letter not expressive enough?

I sat at my desk that evening, quill in hand. There was something missing from the letter. I had a small amount of space left, and so much to say. Why were all the words just a clump in my chest? Why couldn't I set them free? I needed to tell him; desperately I did. If I expressed my feelings in this way, was I a coward? Or was I doing Haytham a good deed, as not to break his heart?

I don't know. I just don't know.

The image of my son floated across my mind. It filled me with flecks of warmth, seeing his young face. Created in the image of me, and of Haytham...
Stop, Ziio. Stop this before it stays forever.

Ratohnhaké:ton would not want me to despair. I had to try and fill this parchment, even if I had to try a thousand times. There was another side to the paper. I could turn over a new page; start again. I can do this.

Not surprisingly, I had trouble sleeping that night. And so I placed the notes for Haytham's staff on the mantelpiece and crept upstairs. I had decided to leave Haytham's in his chambers, and pray that he did not find it before I left.

Speaking of him, I hadn't seen him since dinner. Was he still in the office working? I hoped so. Silently, I crept upstairs and into his room.

The room was engulfed in darkness. Small flecks of moonlight lit the outline of a chest of drawers, a mirror, a long window, a little desk and the foot of Haytham's bed. I closed the door and – as if it would crumble at my touch – I slipped the parchment into one of the drawers. He would find it eventually, I was sure. I took a deep breath and let it go. This was most unlike me. I was strong enough to single-handedly fight a cougar...but too timid to give the letter by hand.

"Ziio?"

I leapt back, almost knocking something off the dresser. It took me moments to catch my breath. When I did, I swivelled to face the source of the voice...and gasped. Haytham was already in bed, sitting upright. I couldn't see his face, but I imagined it was angry.

"I...I'm s-sorry," I stuttered. "I didn't realise –"

"It's alright." He was oddly calm. "I thought I ought to get some rest. I should have told you I went to bed."

I blinked. Was this Haytham being coy, or me being immature? I shook my head, still in denial and very embarrassed. "N-no, I-I should not be –"

"May I just ask..." He pulled back his covers, revealing his nightshirt. Or...absence of one. In a panic I diverted my eyes, but they still glimpsed his muscular torso. "What are you doing in here?"

"I...couldn't sleep," I blurted. At least it was true. "And...I...was looking for you."

"Oh." Haytham shrugged turning to sit on the edge of his bed. "Here I am."

"I'm sorry." I almost bowed apologetically. What was wrong with me? Marching into his private space like it was my own home? "I should leave. Goodnight."

"Wait!"

The desperation in his voice made me freeze. What did he just say?

"Stay."

Slowly, I turned to face him. His gaze was fixated; honest. As my mouth fell open to reply, he interrupted.

"I mean – perhaps your bedroom is cold. That may be the reason you cannot sleep. Warm yourself in here for a while." Haytham shuffled backwards onto the bed, pointing to the empty spot beside him.

My head became dizzy. I couldn't. It was unheard of. To lie in the same bed...no, that was simply unacceptable. So why did I find myself walking closer? With a racing heart, I slipped between the sheets. Haytham offered me plenty of space, which I was glad of: my whole body was tense, like I was committing an ultimate sin.

"Thank you." Changing the subject, I asked: "How was the meeting?"

"Dreadful, to be told." Haytham stared out of the window, not daring to look at me. "The same as before?"

"And you refused your men?"

"Indeed I did."

I relaxed a little. "Then you did well. You sustained your role."

"It was nothing, really," he shrugged, his bare flesh brushing my nightgown. "Ziio, your arms are cold."

"What?" I was startled. "No, they are fine –"

"Here."

Was I really letting him do this? He wrapped an arm around my shaking shoulder, and pulled me in close. My muscles trembled, even in the warm sheets. Haytham should not be doing this. It will make our farewell harder.
No. I want this to continue.

"This is Koshisigre's rescue all over again, is it not?" Haytham reminisced.

"You still remember that?"

"Why, of course I do!" he smiled. Even in the darkness, it was clear that he was looking at me. "I remember everything."

I relaxed even more in his grasp. Haytham's arm was warm...and oddly comforting. "Everything," I repeated thoughtfully. "As do I. And I will remember this month for as long as I live. You have my word."

Haytham chuckled softly, pulling me into his chest. As he sighed, I felt it heave against my own. His heart was beating very fast. "The time has passed so quickly."

"Too quickly."

"I wish you could stay here," he breathed. "The house will be empty without you."

"I will come and visit. I should tell my people about what you have done for me, and perhaps then we might remain like this." I tried to smile, but it died on my lips. Inside I knew there was little chance of that.

"I would always have the spare chamber ready for you."

Judging by the current situation, would I need it?
Hush, Ziio! Stop this! You really should go before...

"If..." Haytham's voice interrupted my thoughts. "If you ever did visit...could I...meet my son?"

"Of course!" I rested my head on his chest. "Imagine. Father and son, united for the first time."

"I shall look forward to it."

"I hope there is a chance of it," I said, filled with anticipation. "I hope, one day."

"If not...we will have to wait until this war is over. We will have to wait until your people are regarded like mine." Haytham pulled me closer still, as if to protect me. "Not as savages."

I opened my mouth to protest...but I was far too tired. Suddenly I was reminded of our night by the river: how – heart-to-heart in the moonlight – we'd had conversations of a similar nature. Nothing could revive that romance now. We were too distant, although dangerously close.

"I'm sorry for all my men have done to you," he whispered.

I opened my eyes. His pearly eyes gleamed with sincerity. Did he really mean that? I put an arm around him for comfort. "The way you have cared for me is enough. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Ziio?"

"Hm?"

He was shaking. "I...before you go, I want you to know that –"

My throat tightened. "What?"

"Th...that I've never met another like you. You've...changed me."

His loose hair brushed against my cheek; I seemed to melt helplessly. "How so?"

"You've shown me my weakness, and my strength. You've directed me to the right values. And..." He put a trembling hand on my chest. "You've taught me to lead with my heart, and not my head, when I need to."

In the darkness of the room, his burning gaze could've turned night to day. Underneath his hand, my heart simply wouldn't slow. I needed to calm down, I knew...but those words...oh, those words were enough to change me entirely. Where was all this coming from? Was Haytham's behaviour altered for the same reason as mine?

"I don't know what to say, Haytham..." I struggled. "Thank you. You have changed me in the same way."

"Ziio?"

"Yes?"

"You can...stay here for the night, if you wish."

Stay. Time stopped in its tracks. As I flinched, Haytham's grip tightened, as if stopping me leaving. I stared into his indigo eyes, and was locked. I couldn't move. To spend my last night at the Kenway homestead with Haytham was my only option. The thought of it poured a poison into my mind; it weakened me more with every move he made. But it was an addictive poison. One I might never feel again.

"I'd love to."

And so, after what seemed like hours, I was forced to pretend to be asleep. Strangely, being trapped in Haytham's arms was no discomfort. It felt right, like we'd never left each other. Was nature simply like that? I didn't know.

Why am I holding on to the past? I knew this day would come.

I was trying not to sleep, even as the stars began to flicker and disappear. Why was the night passing so quickly? I wanted time to stay still. I was going home; to my son. Why could I not be satisfied with that? Why was there a pit trap opening in my soul? I knew I would have to leave when Haytham woke me.

Haytham...

As he lay falling asleep, he looked at peace. His hair cascaded around his closed eyes, and his arms clutched me like a child with its precious doll. So charming, even in his state. If this was our last night, we were squeezing out every last drop of attachment we had. That way, it'd be easier in the morning.

I felt his grip slacken, and he rolled out of bed. Quickly I shut my eyes: I didn't want him knowing I was awake. I heard his footsteps pace around the room...and when I opened one eye, he was stood over my side of the bed. He looked upon my face with a saddened expression, before he leaned over. His hair brushed my cheek; I nearly jumped in surprise.

Stay...still...pretend you're asleep...

"Why did I not tell you when you were awake?" he whispered.

I remained impassive, hoping my heartbeat wasn't loud enough for him to hear.

"If I had, I might've had some sleep." His hand slipped over my back; his lips kissed my cheek. What was happening? I wanted to open my eyes, but knew I couldn't risk it...

"I love you."

At that point, I felt myself falling. Falling through the sheets, through the bed, through the floorboards...and my stomach had lost its sense. Was I imagining this? I opened one eye, gasping.

Haytham just kissed my cheek. He told me he loved me.
You must be dreaming...
Where is he?

The bedroom door was open, and Haytham gone.

Hey guys!

OK, I love a little romance as much as the next fangirl but is this a little OTT? Sorry if it is. I just felt like writing something really cute/cheesy/insert similar word here, so voilà!

It's named after the Maroon 5 song 'Daylight', and every time I've heard this song (even before I'd finished You Have My Word) I imagined this scene taking place! I couldn't not write it...seriously though, listen to the song now and you'll see how scarily similar it is.

Thanks for reading as ever! There should only be 2 more chapters of Part One. Hope you enjoyed!