Color The Sky

by Mystic Blade

Connor's life at Davenport homestead brings a sense of family after leaving Kanathséton as he makes new friendships with the residents and finds himself slowly assimilating into one large family. He partakes in a part of life that isn't tied to the assassins while one young resident tackles the new wild frontier to carve a dream for herself as they cultivate their new community.

62. Unsteady Alliances

Music Inspiration: Lorne Balfe- "A Speck of Dust"

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Unsteady Alliances

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12 February 1778

Haytham did not take long in trying to convince Ratonhnhaké:ton to abandon the Assassins and join the Templar cause. The other man found it more annoying than funny because he would not fall prey to a silly father-son reunion to become Templar buddies. His colleagues had been trying to kill him for years so it was an ill and farfetched dream. Did he really think it was going to work? Caroline found it more hilarious than annoying and wondered if that was the Templar's attempt at bonding or faking it to earn loyalty? Then again, the man did say he didn't feign affection. He was an enigma, even more so than her spouse.

For the most part, the Templar and the Aquila crew avoided each other like the plague. Unfortunately, Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't have that luxury by being his son and the main person he targeted with his heart-to-heart talks. While he let his mind cave in on itself to repress and ignore the man, Caroline took a different approach. To understand the complex man, you had to engage him in stimulating conversation. It didn't take a genius to figure out her father-in-law held more of an education than she and her husband combined. However, she didn't want him to gain an upper hand against them while they were stuck onboard together. If he was trying to secretly convert them, then she had just about the same right to do the same. Her husband thought her idea would only frustrate her mind but Burnetts worked well under pressure.

With that in mind, it soon became Caroline posing random questions to goad the Templar into a conversation. That, and to let her captain escape more needless interrogations and criticisms to man the ship. Robert was just about ready to hurl his least favorite boot at Haytham but Ratonhnhaké:ton kept control of his ship. Otherwise, his father would have been flung overboard more than once on the first day. He still remembered that being the most awkward dinner in history. Caroline saw it as a moment of opportunity, similar to Haytham, to learn from the enemy and what drove them to follow their ideals. The Templar was willing to reveal tidbits of truth about his life prior to arriving in the colonies, before her husband's existence and meeting Ziio, which opened a small slit into the past.

Ratonhnhaké:ton kept a vigilant eye on his wife while sailing the Aquila to make sure his father didn't try anything sneaky. He and Caroline had not revealed her affiliation to the Assassins to keep her safe and his father in the dark. Regardless, it didn't stop the Templar from innocent heckling to convince her to leave the Aquila and join the opposite team. That wouldn't happen anytime soon but she wouldn't be frightened away from their number one enemy. When relieved of her duties for a break, she would gather a snack of potato bread and a metal tin cup of fresh water to meet her father-in-law. Haytham was not a fan of their snacks, finding them dry and tasteless, and debated on requesting shore leave for decent food. He didn't want to lose track of Benjamin but at the same time, he needed decent sustenance to end him. Being denied of adequate protein would only lead him to waste away like a delicate flower, which was embarrassing.

He waved his right hand in distaste when Caroline offered half of her bread slice. Potato bread had tired him within three days and he saw no interest in the stale food. Besides, the woman would need her energy to keep navigating the sea and detecting incoming ships. Despite his remarks on his son's sailing abilities, the two were an effective team which would make it hard to drive a wedge to isolate the two. He had quite the nagging suspicion they were more than friends but kept that detail to himself. For now, he would work on conversion by striking with facts and questioned, "Have you considered the Templar cause? You'd be a master in no time."

Her lips crinkled into a subdued grin to the fluffed compliments that failed to sway her and Haytham jabbed his finger towards the steering deck. The two sat on wooden crates that were tied to the left banisters beside the shroud, using the shade from the higher deck to keep the heat from the sun away. Despite the winter season up north, the lack of cloud cover at sea created an unrelenting sun that burnt exposed skin. Nowadays, she ditched the kerchief cap for her new navy bicorn hat that protected her nose from resembling a cherry. Sure, it belonged to the guard her husband knocked out back in New York but a deep clean made it brand spanking new for her to enjoy. Her lack of enthusiasm only encouraged her father-in-law to state, "Your talents are wasted here on this ship."

"I prefer the sea, thank you" Caroline replied politely and tapped the front of her hat to show her allegiance. She loved traveling and seeing new places far from home since adolescence, a trait that never left her. The fact that her husband owned a frigate and let her join was a dream come true. It was something she would never jeopardize unless it related to her safety or marriage. Haytham refrained from rolling his eyes to her stubbornness and she added in matter-of-factly, "From what I hear, you're all about unyielding control and subjugation. No, thank you."

"Oh, and the assassins are better by inviting chaos with their freedom spiel?" he questioned sarcastically to the allure of unbridled liberty that drew numbers to the enemy's side. It was freedom that was causing the current war in the first place. Order would stop any disarray and keep society tidy, crushing any dissent before it infected the population. The Assassins were the ones causing earthquakes by meddling with technology that neither group knew about nor comprehended. He expected a better argument from the woman and stated grimly, "You're seeing the ravages of this silly war. Where are your lawmakers? Not in the tight and blood-soaked trenches - no, those are the sheep blindly following their siren song and my son is foolishly waving their flag."

"I never said I was one of them" Caroline answered innocently to practice her neutrality stance and leaned back against the banister. She agreed that independence would allow the colonies to grow but there were hiccups ready to knock down that flicker of hope. At the same time, the freedom that was being spouted didn't necessarily include everyone. She had to fight for every piece of property in her name and her husband's, even against her own society. She knew there was potential for tragedy on the path they were on but she believed in its ideals. If they couldn't make it happen in their lifetime, they could plant the seeds that would flourish in another generation. She believed in the man that had been by her side for eight years and affirmed tightly, "And he's not foolish."

"You have a hidden blade on your arm!" Haytham declared emphatically, pointing at her right forearm that concealed the metal knife beneath the leather gauntlet. He had a sharp acuity for noticing small details but she didn't miss the two similar blades over his own. She had never met someone that originated with a family in the Assassins and ended up living among Templars. Then again, what could a child do when their father was killed and they were taken under the wing of a Templar in disguise? She refrained from shivering if such a future awaited her own child. Her ears snapped at attention when the Templar snapped his fingers to finalize flatly, "That's practically your affiliation."

"So do you, yet you're not one of them" she disagreed with a sneak grin at drawing her verbal blade to avoid losing the argument. There had been a time after learning about the Assassins that she wondered who was on the right side but the truth was not black and white. Order was needed to run society and protect the innocent but that principle could easily become warped, especially when individuals thirsty for power were at the top of that chain. On the other hand, the fight for freedom could become entrenched with danger that could easily drive one to become self-serving in the name of peace or change. There was a gray area with both sides and a ceasefire could help both sides broker a compromise of peace. Ratonhnhaké:ton was trying his best to accomplish this, given that they had the Templar leader onboard, and she preened slyly, "Or are you secretly a double agent, Templar Grandmaster?"

Haytham had lived his life and poured much of it into the Templar cause, regardless of the questions that sometimes arose. His son was not helping that locked door of whether the Templars were heading in the right direction, given the recent dissent and treachery. The enemy's side held their own traitors and he wanted to figuratively kick his son to not become trusting of everyone who extended their hand to him. One hand could hold innocent camaraderie while the other wielded a knife of betrayal. He held a starker view of the world in comparison to the two, who had not been chewed and spit out by manipulators, and remarked, "Ah, so you are smarter than my idiot son."

"He's not an idiot" she defended firmly to protect his image, embarrassed that she had to do so against his own father. Her father had never insulted any of her siblings or herself, always encouraging them or giving a firm order when they roughhoused too much. She had grown up with a father beside her, one who loved her, and she couldn't imagine having him speak in such a way without breaking her heart. Ratonhnhaké:ton was quiet about his origins but every child deserved a set of parents who loved them. It stirred her flame of protection over him, given his bumps in life, and she shot back sternly, "He has a very kind heart despite the heavy trauma in his life. He's been alone most of his life, under siege by your people and ignorant civilians with nobody to truly trust. All he's had is the Assassin's Order and his people, who he's rarely seen now that he's been pulled into this madness."

Haytham had an answer ready for that because his son had a safe place away from hostile colonials and stated coolly, "Nobody told him to leave the village."

"He wouldn't have had to if your idiot Lee didn't hurt him, burn the village, and inadvertently kill his mother" she shot back tightly and he refrained from sighing aloud that the two were living with incorrect facts. They were working for the same man that ordered the attack on the village! How he wished to say this aloud but he would do more harm than good. The reveal would require a delicate touch that would work in his favor, not the Patriots or Assassins. For Caroline, her husband only had himself to rely on once he left the safe confines of his village. He deserved to live a life of peace away from being involved with the colonies, even if it meant not meeting her or their residents. His heart was the most benevolent she met and she wouldn't let anyone take advantage or insult him, pointing out, "He was barely 13 when he left his home. I watched him grow and try to find his place in this world, stumbling from setbacks but never giving up hope."

She couldn't imagine having her own son or even her little brother alone in a world he had never lived in. He knew about Ratonhnhaké:ton's existence for years and never tried to reach out on neutral ground. Instead, he let his lackeys do as they wished . . . up until he cut him free from that noose in New York. Why? He was a puzzle when it came to guessing his next move and she posed the question, "How could you let that happen to your son?"

He didn't know about his son's existence until he returned to the colonies after rescuing Jennie. His life was enmeshed too tightly with the Templar cause that the chance of fatherhood had been abandoned. There were times he wondered about a family life with Ziio but they were wistful naïve dreams. He could see part of himself in the young man but he held a higher optimism for the world that surpassed his and Ziio's. Redemption for the past would be impossible and he accepted that he cut the binds to his own blood for the sake of the Templar order. His father was likely rolling in his grave for his actions but he had been raised among Templars, finding his place among them. He might not be keen on the fact that they were responsible for breaking his family apart but he rose highly in the order to run it his way. His son, on the other hand, had been left alone to find his own identity and chose the Assassins after his childhood trauma. He often wondered what would have occurred if that incident never happened. Would he have found his way to the Templars instead?

"Templars and Assassins aside, he was still yours as a child when he lost his mother" Caroline pointed out with the facts because a child wouldn't know about a raging war between factions. If she was ever lucky to have children with her husband, they would not expose them to that harsh life until they were mature enough to handle it. Even now, she was struggling to keep Elizabeth on a level-headed path before opening that door. Leaning back against the crate, she reasoned to the sliver of hope that remained, "He wasn't an Assassin then. You didn't wonder what became of him? Do you feel no remorse at seeing your child thrown into a world of strangers, far from everything and everyone he's known? Maybe if you weren't so dedicated to your own cause, you'd both stop butting your heads against the same stubborn wall and realize you're family."

His dark blue eyes narrowed at her for posing numerous questions, noting the emotional edge to them, and questioned, "Are you attempting to analyze my mind?"

"A bit" she answered truthfully with a small nod to remain transparent in her efforts. He would likely rebuff her if she held deception which was interesting given the way he spun the truth. She had never been a liar and would not begin on that road today. Tapping her fingers against the top of the crate, she continued carefully, "I don't believe for a second that you didn't wonder about his mother. I overheard you tell Connor of your journey across the sea to rescue your sister. You're telling me that there was no inkling of curiosity about Ziio when you returned?"

"And here I thought you were a random woman of comfort my son kept" Haytham stated with veiled amusement, noticing her lips crinkle at the edges in a withheld frown. Was her right or wrong? He couldn't tell her emotions easily with her inquisitive expressions while his son held stoicism. This was becoming a tad harder than expected. Was he getting out of touch with nonverbal behavior interpretation? She said nothing to neither verify nor deny, leading him to add in matter-of-factly, "I've seen your little side glances. That, and you two retire to the same cabin."

"Don't attempt to sidetrack from the past" she smirked slightly at catching his verbal evasion of the topic, wondering if she was hitting close or he was hiding something. Ratonhnhaké:ton would find it painful to dig into the past but she didn't hold such memories. For her, she was his protector and gathering information on potential threats was part of that job.

Haytham shook his head at hearing her cling to her questioning, crossing his arms, to remark, "I will say you're sharper than my boy at keeping your eye on my weapons."

"Trust is earned, Mr. Kenway" she spoke earnestly because she wouldn't throw her vote in with just anyone. Her most trusted people lived in Davenport, followed by her Boston friends and the Aquila. Her husband was her best friend and there would never be secrets between them. The road for trust between him and his father stretched across the Atlantic Ocean. Tilting her head to the left, she contemplated aloud to their varying styles, "It's interesting to compare the personalities of both sides of this fight when you share the same blood. You have your motives, he has his."

"Don't remind me" he muttered under his breath to their biggest conflict in bridging peace. His son wanted to kill Lee and he couldn't have that. Otherwise, his twenty-plus years of mentoring would be for nothing! He had not even asked to annihilate anyone from his order, though he could target the redhead. There was a clear bond between the two and he questioned her intent with his son, "Why do you care so much about our cooperation? He's simply your leader or your lover, which would not be wise. I've learned the hard way it is not a viable road."

"I care because the one you keep calling an idiot is my beloved husband" she revealed coolly with a firm expression at having her spouse insulted. He was a good man, better than any she had met, and she would fight anyone that said otherwise. His eyes widened slightly to hearing the news and chastised himself for not looking at their hands for hidden wedding bands rather than their weapons. Caroline tried not to smirk at his disbelief but it didn't deter her protective tone when she warned, "If you dare to harm him, I will riddle you with enough bullets you'll resemble a colander."

Caroline hopped off the wooden crate with a small departing wave of the hand to return to her post. The snack break had offered some insight into the complex mind of the Templar but she had unveiled her marriage to his son. It was both a strength and vulnerability for them but she believed their bond was unbreakable after everything hurled their way. This was simply another bump and they could either learn from it or avoid it entirely by shutting the door. Her husband was curious about his origins, for the chance at peace, and she would help him with that goal with a cautious hand.

Haytham was left baffled at his spot, regrettably losing the win of that conversation, and blurted aloud, "I . . . I have no words. They've failed me!"

His son was married? Legally? Did he manage to make a life among the society that dared to cage his mother like a roadside attraction and hurled insults at him in the streets? Not to mention, married to a colonist? Did they have a family? Was he a grandfather? He didn't know whether he was surprised that time had flown that quickly or his son had achieved a milestone he would not. Leaning against the banister, he watched the gentle glittering waves of the sea to ponder aloud, "I can't believe I have a daughter-in-law! Strangely enough, I'm not as repulsed as I thought I'd be. I, dare I say it, actually approve?"

"Did your mind finally go and you're talking to yourself?" Robert's sarcastic voice hollered from above the steering deck to cut his thoughts short.

"Silence, gas bag!" he shot back sardonically to shut him up and out of his private business. Wait, did everyone onboard know about his son's marriage? How did he not know until now? Why did he think the two were simply knocking boots? His son appeared the type of man to be respectable and do the right thing, unlike himself who gave up on having a family life. He had created a life for himself with nobody but himself to depend on. Hmm, there was a little pride in that.

Robert took a silent moment to clap his captain's right shoulder in apology when the clamber of heavy boots was heard at the base of the stairs. Ratonhnhaké:ton refrained from sighing to his shoddy luck but nodded to his first mate to let him hang back by the suspended alarm bells. The older sailor failed to leave the two alone unless his captain requested it, which had yet to happen. Despite the blood shared between the two, Robert had watched the boy grow up and that bond was thicker than the other. Between himself and Caroline, they always kept an eye on his back for any funny business. He couldn't wait to set eyes on the Welcome because it would mean that their mission was close to an end.

Ratonhnhaké:ton wondered what was the problem now, hoping it wasn't something unachievable, and kept his vision straight ahead. The sea would calm any nagging thoughts and he knew when the footsteps stopped, that his father was on the deck. With a neutral tone, he addressed the older man politely, "May I help you? Or are you here to critique my steering again?"

"You're married?!" his father blurted to demand confirmation of what he just heard, wondering if the two were trying to confound him for laughs. Robert took an involuntary step back with the cat out of the bag while the captain's shoulders slumped slightly. The guilt was practically written on their faces but Haytham didn't give two hoots about it. His plan to divide the two and plant seeds of doubt would be even harder but did he want to be responsible for fracturing a marriage? For once, he decided to abandon that plan and let the two live their lives. He certainly wouldn't have that chance but it didn't mean his son should follow in those footsteps as well.

Ratonhnhaké:ton took a steadying breath to keep his voice calm and stated evenly, "Not that you have the right to ask but I am."

He wasn't particularly happy that the fact slipped out and wondered what led his wife or one of the crew to expose it. Somehow, he bet on the former but what was her plan? He would have to ask her later on at night in bed what giving up their secret would yield. In his view, it left them more vulnerable to manipulation. For now, however, he would pretend to be oblivious to her covert spying. Haytham, however, was on a mission for facts and he crossed his arms to question skeptically, "How long?"

"None of your business" he shot back defensively because he never needed a worrying father and when he did, other men stepped into that role. He learned more about life and women from Faulkner than the Templar, maybe a little too much. Still, it came from a good place in the old sailor's heart. Only those important to him and Caroline would know about their life together, nobody else.

"Why wasn't I informed?" Haytham questioned with offense to being kept out of the loop on board the ship. Even his men failed to report that tidbit about his son. Then again, they were more concerned with his dangerous skill set, strength, and movements. He didn't expect to hear this news today, realizing his son was not as naïve as he once thought. Spending more time with the Assassins onboard was not doing him any good either. The redhead was the only one with intriguing conversation and when he managed to catch his son in a non-grumpy mood, they managed to share a few words. Sighing under his breath with dismay, he muttered, "My spies have horridly disappointed me. Then again, you've killed my best ones."

"Was I supposed to send a letter exposing my location and my loved ones to your Order simply so you'd attend for another massacre?" Ratonhnhaké:ton proposed wryly to such a catastrophic and unwise decision to jeopardize his loved ones. One pact they made was to never reveal their town to anyone and the Aquila would change its routes when treading close to Massachusetts in case they caught attention. He held no bonds to Haytham, only shared blood, and desiring a relationship with him now was foolish. The man had plenty of chances and the only time he tried was now because of their mutual goal to find Church. Otherwise, they would have never met unless it was a fight between their respective groups. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed down the bow of the ship to stated simply, "What hope should a son have of their absent father who repeatedly tries to kill him?"

"Not when you say it like that" his father scoffed because he knew self-control when it came to the art of killing. He wouldn't be brutish enough to slaughter his town, at least without cause. The passing years had shifted his view into cynicism at seeing the chaos and self-serving plays between those in power. His son, however, was a different person and one he would easily call idealistic and naïve. Still, there was a convicting determination in him that he'd yet to see in anyone else. Was that why his men followed him? Was there something more to this young man? Brushing off the thoughts that dared to establish a connection with him, he corrected matter-of-factly, "And I've never tried to kill you- personally. For once in this partnership, I approve of your decision."

Frankly, Ratonhnhaké:ton expected his father to rebuff his marriage as a mistake. Natives didn't simply marry colonists without a peep from society, especially if they decided to live close to it. Theirs was a rarity based on his bloodline, which he often saw as a curse, but he acknowledged that he wouldn't have been able to marry Caroline without it. Well, they would have built a life but guilt would follow him for making her live their life in secret. His fingers tightened over the steering wheel, moving it slightly to the left when he caught notice of Caroline's triangular blue flag for a current change. His wife had created a set of colorful flags to convey messages to the crew when their voices were drowned out by the elements or live fire. He wasn't certain what to reply to that, wondering if it was a trap, and decided on a vague response, "I don't remember needing permission to live my life. I've lived it just fine without you."

Haytham refrained from throwing up his hands or smacking the hat off his head. No, that would only set him off into anger. Trying to find a balance that would grant a decent conversation, he chided him, "Must you rebuff every attempt to speak?"

"I am trying to captain my ship" he responded coolly, given that the Aquila did need his entire focus. Otherwise, he would risk her safety and those of the crew onboard. He needed to have a border between himself and his father to prevent any manipulation but he also wanted a bridge to set aside their differences. Not to save their tattered relationship but for the future and coming generations. If he could find a way to stop needless bloodshed, he would.

"Can you simply accept the compliment from your father?" he insisted with slight annoyance to his stubbornness to keep a distance. It was understandable after the hostile history between their groups but being family should grant him a sliver of a chance. At least, he thought so. Wait, was he truly contemplating the idea of getting to know his son? His men were ordered to kill him so that was a huge factor in the other man's hesitation to trust him. Nothing said 'I hate you' better than an execution order. His moral compass was spinning erratically for once, cursing his own indecision, and he muttered, "I should ask her to be my son instead."

After losing what little family he had, Caroline was the most important person in his life. She began as a trusted friend that tagged along for forest adventures and now, his dedicated wife. He would hate to do it but he would kill anyone that threatened her safety. Resting his dominant hand on the wheel, he pointed his left index finger at the Templar and turned briefly to warn him, "She is my family and I will not let you take the last piece of normalcy I have."

"I had nothing to do with your mother's death, Connor" Haytham declared firmly because he would not hurt the one woman that dared to peek past his stoic exterior. He respected Ziio's decision to stay with her people and he admonished his men when they tried to contact the natives. It was with Ziio's help that he found the Precursor site but their inability to access it led him to abandon it for other sites. Duty won over affection but he did regret not choosing a simpler life when he had the chance. In the end, was Templar supremacy worth it? Was it worth killing his child for their ideals? The more he was onboard the Aquila, the more he was exposed to his son's lifestyle and who he was. Despite his stubborn naivety, he was a hopeful man and he tried to level with that side of him, "What could I hope to gain by doing so? My goal upon arriving in 1754 was to expand the Templar cause, not to have my future son go on a rampage to kill off the same Templar Order that I created. I might be a bloody ass at times but I am a brutally honest one. I wasn't even here until 1774!"

Falling prey to his claims would leave him open to deceit, aware that his father danced closely between lies and the truth. How was he supposed to trust that he knew nothing about him or his mother's passing? He would not push him aside but would leave a door open for collaboration, stating easily, "I will never believe your words without evidence."

"I already agreed to get your bloody evidence" he huffed snippily to finding that vital proof to shift his view against the Patriots. If he worked closely with him, that could provide a way for him to get close to Washington and get that proof. The key was working it in his favor to draw fire against the Patriots, question the motives of the Assassins, and open a door for Templar understanding. The younger man shot him a skeptical gaze and he promised truthfully, "I'm working on it."

When the expression of suspicious mirth failed to budge, he insisted, "I am!"

Haytham ignored the poorly hidden snickering from Robert from behind, ashamed that he required supervision to speak to his own son. Then again, they were mortal enemies for a reason. He found the current situation both baffling and amusing, wondering what other Templars heads would think of his choice to work with the enemy. Frankly, he didn't care but he'd achieved something rare. Leaning against the wooden banister, he pointed to their navigator standing at the top main mast, and asked, "She's not an Assassin?"

"That's not your business" he answered tightly, blocking him from that information. He already knew about their marriage but revealing her affiliation would further raise that target risk.

"Interesting" his father remarked with intrigue and tapped his chin with his right index finger to tease, "She might yet be saved by the folly of your creed."

"Trying to indoctrinate her will fail" Ratonhnhaké:ton muttered flatly, amused that he thought it would work. Caroline might entertain his father's ideas and proposals but she admitted that extreme laws to silence dissent and power distributed among the few were not her cup of tea. Like himself, she believed everyone had equal choice to prove their merit and those that sought to harm innocents deserved just retribution. It was a mixed view of both orders and maybe a compromise could end centuries of warfare. If victory had not been claimed by either group, maybe working together was the future? He didn't know what the true endgame would be but he did know one thing, commenting wryly, "My wife is quite skilled."

"I can be quite persuasive" Haytham challenged and wondered if his son was pitting him up against the redhead. She would have no chance of winning against his decades of experience with verbal chess. Did she have something up her sleeve that he didn't? This would be an interesting contest to keep his mind from boredom over the endless sea and he joked dryly, "Nothing says Templar infiltration better than murdering a spouse."

"She will not be as tolerant as I" his son warned about his wife's temper when it came to insults, especially those against himself. He was proud to have someone like her at his side and cherished that rare loyalty. His father would have quite the competition convincing her otherwise and it almost threatened a smile on his face. Hearing that she had argued with him in public while dressed as a nun still brought laughter at night, which led her to playfully smacking him with a pillow. He wasn't certain whether this would bode well or badly for them, stating evenly, "She'll shoot out your kneecap before chastising you."

The next question shocked Ratonhnhaké:ton when Haytham turned his back on the banister, facing him to ask curiously, "Do you have children?"

What? Did he want to sprinkle Templar stories to turn his future children against him? His marriage was still fresh and children were a subject they agreed to leave for later. They both desired a family but the war was turning more chaotic on both sides, halting that dream. His father didn't need to know anything about his private life and replied calmly, "I refuse to answer that."

"I'd like to know if I'm a grandfather, especially after this unexpected revelation" Haytham pointed out for a freebie point, mainly to make sure no child was caught in the crossfire in their fight. He would not aim to continue the cycle of a child watching their parent die but would he be willing to take it further by killing his own son? Could he live with himself if he were to kill him and simultaneously destroy the last piece of his family? Time onboard the ship was threatening to change his mindset and he veiled his own curiosities by suggesting nonchalantly, "I should buy you a decent housewarming gift, seeing as you're my son. Maybe a few toys for the children? Are children still into toy horses?"

"No!" Ratonhnhaké:ton exclaimed instantly because those toys were likely to be rigged with traps. He barely trusted his father around his wife and he would be even more protective of their innocent children. Well, once they actually had children.

Haytham didn't know whether to feel insulted at rejection or approve that he wasn't easily deceived. He had never bought a toy for anyone and wondered if he was softening to the silly thought of grandchildren. Parenthood had passed him by out of his own choice but was he willing to abandon another sense of family? Maybe they would understand his actions better than their Assassin father. Feigning a glare of offense, he asked sharply, "To the toys?"

"To everything" he replied flatly because he didn't want to accept anything that would leave him indebted to the man. He and Caroline didn't need help from anyone but themselves to make their home and tend to their land. Playing nice would not mend the damage done over the years and didn't trust his sudden generosity. There had to be a reason for it and he would tell Caroline to implore further during her chats.

The older man sighed under his breath to the figurative wall between them and tried once more, "Not even porcelain dinnerware? I know a great place."

"Do we look like we can afford such luxury?" Ratonhnhaké:ton pointed out shrewdly to his humble origins and what was expected for a man like himself in colonist society. Frankly, he had done better than others by being able to live in a town, captain a ship, own a business, and be legally married. They would never be rich but he earned enough to live comfortably and Caroline would work to support their household. Davenport was their sanctuary because they would be under scrutiny and insulted elsewhere. He would not have his family endure discrimination and he stated grimly to their future, "I would be fantastically lucky to find a good job in a city where my wife and I wouldn't be criticized or ostracized for our marriage."

"That's the point of a gift" Haytham emphasized to his first benevolent offering, meaning to offer that gift of peace. He didn't expect anything in return but a little trust would come in handy. His mind dove on instinct to find how to earn the man's loyalty but he couldn't do that this time. Despite they were fated to be enemies, neither was eager to kill the other. He wouldn't have hesitated before Bridewell Prison but their intermittent contact, which now shifted into daily contact, was threatening that Templar instinct with some sort of paternal flicker. Fantastic.

He didn't want him to experience the same shunning prejudice that Ziio encountered in towns. It was a shameful reality for the natives but not a view he shared. He was aware that he lived in the old town that served as a base for the Assassins decades before the purge. Retaining that information prevented his enemy from being eliminated and he stayed his hand at ordering his men to extinguish it. For one, there were civilians and he wasn't a fan of being named a mass murderer and second, he felt inclined to offer his son some form of home. His sense of duty clashed against that decision and maybe he was wrong for choosing to let the boy live . . . but it was his choice. Shrugging casually, he remarked on the best route to stay away from catching attention, "Staying in a small town is a safe choice."

Ratonhnhaké:ton found his comment odd, considering he never mentioned where he lived. Davenport was his closest guarded secret, given that it had been exposed once, and pretended that he lived close to Lake Champlain. With Caroline living there as a child, they were able to create liable stories. Narrowing his gaze at the man, he stated slowly to gauge his reaction, "I never said we lived in a town."

"Lucky guess?" he supplied cheerfully to pretend he was oblivious to knowing the truth. Curse his soft emotional mind, he was losing his touch with persuasion! He couldn't let it slip that he knew where they lived. Otherwise, they could move away and land in a town that didn't approve of them. He didn't want to bring more misery to his son's life and spoke truthfully, "I would not harm your children. Give me some credit."

"We will not have children until I eradicate your kind" Ratonhnhaké:ton admitted grimly to reveal that there were no children to be placed in danger. He would not provide the Templars with more targets to harm and regretted not being able to live his life to its fullest. Caroline would always follow him but he promised her a family when she wished it. However, the threat of the Templars always loomed in the back of their minds.

"You'll be leaving your wife a widow and childless" Haytham spoke cautiously to placing a family life on the backburner, especially after choosing the Templars instead of a family. He didn't want his son wasting his time with the Assassins when he could live free of both groups with his wife. Why would he put himself through that turmoil? Was each Kenway generation meant to experience tragedy? Being realistic and determined to achieve his goals, he advised his son to do the same, "I would reconsider either abandoning this game of yours or attempting a family."

"And watch you try to destroy that too?" Ratonhnhaké:ton muttered sardonically to opening a door of familiarity to the man. It could backfire catastrophically and he cherished his current life rather than daring to dip into the unexplored past. He didn't trust the man and expected to be betrayed the moment they caught up to Church. They were collaborating on a mission and that didn't entail opening his life to the man. Besides, had he received an apology for having multiple murder attempting aimed at him? No. He sought to keep his work and personal life apart, ordering sharply, "Stay out of my private life."

"Honestly, everything sets you off" he sighed with distaste to his nagging and refusal to meet him halfway. He was almost inclined to label him as a rebellious teenager. They had to remain cordial on this mutual venture but he was hitting more invisible walls than a blind fly. Motioning to the open blue sea around them, he pointed out sarcastically, "Besides, we're on a ship together, it's rather hard not to cross paths on deck. What will you do, throw me overboard when your knickers are in a twist?"

The captain took a moment to savor such an amusing image but he would likely end up having to fight the man if it came true. He promised Caroline he would play nice to avoid collateral damage on their vessel and keep the crew safe. He could always dream, though. The corners of his lips crinkled in amusement and he remarked with light enthusiasm, "Don't tempt me."

"If you want to keep her out of harm's way in this war, leave her at home" he advised once more to offer a way to save their marriage from heartbreak. Neither group would be free of danger and although he ordered the elimination of Assassins, he left the non-affiliated members out of it. Was he making future enemies? Possibly. Still, he would prefer not to be called a child murderer or killer of mothers. The couple might have found it cute to travel together but one ill-timed bullet could easily end the other while traveling. He shook his head to that foolish belief, especially when his son frowned, and cautioned, "Otherwise, you're liable to repeat the same cycle of our family. Don't waste the chance of living a life with your family."

"My family will be nothing like ours" he disagreed with committing the same actions as his father and would be ashamed if it happened. His vows to Caroline would never be jeopardized and he would abandon a target for her safety, even if it meant letting them get away. He would not prioritize the order over his family and would let his assassins take more active roles rather than tackle everything himself. Neither Caroline nor his children would ever have to fear him or face disappointment. His family would always come first and he stated bitterly, "I would never abandon or try to kill them."

"I can't abandon what I never knew existed" Haytham disagreed with being pinned as a troublemaker that cast him aside for simply existing. That was absolutely not true. There were times where he had been tempted to go looking for the boy after discovering his existence. However, there was a flicker of cowardice at knowing he had fallen into enemy territory and likely thought the worst of him. At the same time, he ordered himself to shut away that chapter of his life. When he learned about Ziio's death, he expected his son to be raised by the village but his men were quick to smash that hope with his foiling of Templar plans. He would not have torn away the boy from Ziio if she had lived and pointed out shrewdly, "Why would I pull you into this world and away from your mother?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitated to the posed question because their first meeting was in Bridewell Prison. He had seen him from far away in Boston in 1774 but at seeing what he was capable of, abandoned approaching the man. His silence only spurred Haytham to continue with his disclosure road by finishing, "I didn't expect for her to be killed, you to exist, and definitely not for you to join the blasted Assassins!"

"I am determined to protect my people from disasters from your kind" the other man replied calmly with conviction on his journey for hope and freedom. So far, the Assassins were the only ones who didn't try to kill him on the first approach while all the Templars aimed a weapon at his head. His father stayed his hand out of curiosity rather than affection, which was even more of a bother. Was he seen more like an anomaly to be poked at rather than his flesh and blood son?

Haytham was ready to defend his team against his childish dreams of freedom and began, "The Templars-"

"I meant your so-called Old World" he interrupted to end his tangent before it started and narrowed his eyes at him to continue sharply, "The colonists are becoming locust and the Templars are not helping that either. I want you both to leave my people out of your conflicts and if that means that I must sacrifice myself and sever my ties to them, I will."

He winced when his father smacked him over the head with the back of his hand and Haytham chastised, "I will excuse your ignorance but not your hero complex."

Robert whistled from behind the two before it broke into a brawl and warned the older man, "Keep it clean, Kenway."

Haytham waved away the sailor with a hand before pointing it at his son to lecture firmly, "You do not run off into danger blindly to earn glory and become a martyr. Strategy and studying your enemy will yield you better results in the bigger picture."

Was he trying to give him tips on ending the Templars? Did he slip into another reality momentarily? Shaking his head to his confounding father, he muttered grimly, "I don't need your parenting."

The Templar begged to differ after hearing about his daring exploits on the battlefield and chastised, "Obviously you do if you're shouting peace and freedom while jumping off rooftops. Oh, and let's not forget running into active battlefields with cannon fire."

"I do not holler and jump without thinking" the younger man defended swiftly because he always had a plan in the back of his mind. Sure, he cut it close in his younger years but that was from inexperience and impulsiveness. He would think twice before treading somewhere unsafe, consulting with either Faulkner or Caroline. His chats with Achilles had become explosive enough that he preferred the company of his naval confidants. He couldn't help but add a jab towards his father by reasoning, "Otherwise, your top officers would still be alive."

"Point taken" Haytham agreed to that valid point and crossed his arms before saying, "Another question if I may?"

"You'll ask anyway" Ratonhnhaké:ton commented with a slight smirk to his forward manner. There was a difference in approach between himself and his father, becoming wiser to his direct questioning. Answering with the truth pleased the Templar while lies soured his demeanor but he didn't hesitate to lie outright either. That was a reason he didn't entirely trust the Templar, apart from his enemy affiliation.

"Don't be fresh" his father chided crossly to maintain the upper hand, especially as the older one. It wasn't his fault that his son wasn't the chatty type, being quite a bit like his mother. He still remembered the amused but dull looks from Ziio when he failed to read clues like she did. Apart from carrying his features, those of Ziio were more prominent in his demeanor and accentuated those familiar brown eyes. Curiosity won over again, weaving him deeper into that unlived life, and he dared to ask slowly, "I highly doubt Connor is what Ziio named you. What is your birth name?"

The captain was surprised by the inquiry, expecting more questions about his life or a snide against the Assassins. He didn't know whether it was a true interest or another attempt to draw information for future manipulation. Given how many he had told his true name to people, most forgot it easily. Only one person outside his village managed to remember it without fault. Sparing him a brief side glance, he answered quietly, "If you must know, it is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

Haytham paused momentarily, finding it hard to follow and pronounce, much like his mother's. Is that why Ziio told him to use her nickname? He would have to work hard at remembering that but then that would mean he held an interest. No, maybe he could use it against . . . no, that was the Templar side planning again. Repeating the name in his mind, he botched it rather easily and his repeated attempts didn't fare any better. Ratonhnhaké:ton was not surprised at all when his father hesitated before admitting with reluctance, "That is. . . I will stick to Connor, if you don't mind."

"Good" he replied with relief to not having to hear his father butcher his name through the whole trip. Haytham realized he was on a lose-lose basis today and decided to give up before pissing off his son. Ratonhnhaké:ton also wasn't sure how he would feel at having to hear his name from the man. They didn't know each other at all, bound by blood and their warring factions, but he was open to compromise. Lightening his tone, he shrugged lightly to let him know it was fine and revealed easily, "Only my wife and people use my birth name."

Looking to the crow's nest to spot the redhead, Haytham called out loudly to question with disbelief, "Can you really pronounce his name?"

"Aye!"

His shoulders slumped to being beaten by the Scottish woman, wondering what tips she held for pacifying his son, and murmured under his breath, "My daughter-in-law is a better Templar candidate than my son."

"We're not joining the Templars!" Ratonhnhaké:ton asserted swiftly with a mixture of both annoyance and amusement. His father could try his best but neither of them would join the opposite side. They would find a way to work together and reach a mutual goal but they were Assassins. If he was lucky to have children, he would teach them about both factions when they were old enough to understand the dangers of each.

Haytham burst his thought bubble when he grumbled with disappointment, "Fine, dash away your father's dream."

---

20 February 1778

They were not surprised to find out the following week that Haytham had broken into their food pantry to forage. The ship's cook found the man filtering through the forcibly unlocked cabinets and sought the captain for assistance. Ratonhnhaké:ton was none too happy to be woken at the first rays of sunrise and releasing his wife to dress swiftly. Caroline woke to the commotion and followed her husband for backup and emotional support. Besides, her shift would start soon. The couple headed below deck to the fourth level where the cook and medic shared the deck with other stored cargo. The mess hall was empty, given the early morning before breakfast, and they found Haytham perusing through linen sacks on the ground.

Caroline tapped the heel of her right boot to catch his attention and the Templar turned around with a cheeky smile, "It seems we've entered a game of cat and mouse but the question is, who is the cat and who is the-"

His confidence plummeted when Ratonhnhaké:ton unholstered his pistol, cocking the weapon to point it at him. Would he really shoot him? What happened to reuniting as father and son? Seeing that he was now at a heavy disadvantage with his hidden blade, he cursed, "Blast."

"You really shouldn't wake him this early" Caroline remarked flatly because her husband was acting more out of annoyance for cutting his sleep short rather than his stealing. He woke early to oversee his ship before beginning his shift and even after the Aquila was anchored or Robert continued steering in the night, her husband stayed awake to study. She grabbed a broom that had been knocked down onto the floor and picked it up to flip it upside down. Both Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham were taken aback when she began smacking him over the shoulder like a bad cat.

"Is this any way to treat your father-in-law?" he called out helplessly to being abused by cleaning supplies. Is this how Assassins were taught to fight? How demeaning! Dropping the sacks, he raised his hands for leniency and Caroline stopped her swatting.

Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head to his misuse of their family bond and holstered his weapon. He wouldn't shoot the man, at least not until they found Church. That and he didn't want to clean up the mess and deal with the aftermath. Rubbing his forehead to drive away the lingering sleep, he glared at his father to warn, "Don't say that."

"We all eat the same breakfast, given the lack of shore leave" Caroline stated sympathetically because dry and unperishable goods were all they had. When they docked at other ports, they would buy fresh food that they could eat for a week by keeping it stored in the colder lower levels. Haytham closed his eyes with regret to agreeing to ride on the Assassin vessel instead of a Templar one that would provide all of his necessities. Never again would he do this.

His sharp sass and energy took a nosedive when Caroline nudged him with the handle of the broom to get him moving. Together, the three returned to the top deck to let their cook regain control of their goods and begin breakfast. If they needed to tie Haytham from trying another stealing attempt, Ratonhnhaké:ton would gladly supply the rope.

Breakfast was uneventful as three groups took turns eating to have the ship adequately manned. Ratonhnhaké:ton was not the type of captain that ate in his cabin, choosing to socialize with his crew. Being from a social culture, he didn't want to isolate himself from them. He always picked the last group to ensure that his sailors were well fed before himself to keep their ship running smoothly. Caroline often told him his kind action helped to bind the camaraderie and trust onboard the Aquila. Robert manned the ship in his stead while Caroline's mentees took her role while the two ate, sharing a few moments together before returning to their separate posts. Unfortunately, this was also the time Haytham picked to eat so the couple was forced to share their breakfast with him. Ratonhnhaké:ton expected his new marriage to have some interesting first months but sharing a meal on a ship with his Templar father had never entered that vision.

He was almost tempted to retreat to his cabin when Haytham began to offer needless and unasked advice about life. Ratonhnhaké:ton had no idea why he felt inclined to give him tips on choosing attire, how to cut a steak the right way, and the correct posture for holding a sword. Caroline tried to hold back a smile to the ridiculously entertaining father-son bonding. Having a paternal figure in her life, she knew the tips of a father to their child but Haytham had the strangest way of conveying it. Given that he never fathered anyone before and was more of a mentor to his order, his talks came off more as lectures.

Ratonhnhaké:ton wasn't having it that early in the morning, hoping to enjoy his morning meal with peace of mind. His cornbread and aged cheese were all he had to savor until the next meal, pulling at his cubed cheese when his father began eyeing it. Was he really starving for food? Didn't people have less of an appetite as they grew older? He would be appalled to eat what he did as a teenager. Glaring at the older man that had been absent in his life, he scolded, "I'm a grown man, I don't need life advice- least of all by you."

Haytham simply took a bite from the stale flour bread that left his tongue tasteless, muttering under his breath, "Could've fooled me with all the tantrums."

Caroline cleared her throat intentionally to play peacemaker to avoid another argument this early in the morning. She thought the two were becoming better at communicating but the progress was like a weight scale. Quarrels would lead them nowhere and she extended her hidden blade to silently point it in both of their directions. Haytham adhered to the woman's warning, practically slouching against the rectangular wooden table, and declared, "At least give me a bloody listen once in a while or I might send another spy to your home for intel."

This time, the couple froze in place to his casual prompt about their town and Ratonhnhaké:ton asked briskly, "What?"

"Oh, I've already had an agent infiltrate your little town" he answered casually like he'd done nothing wrong and watched Caroline's eyes widen while his son's narrowed. They were far away from their loved and leaving them exposed to danger was their greatest fear. Only one of her siblings knew how to fight but she was still a teenager. Without them, only Myriam, Norris, Big Dave, her father, and uncle would be the only line of defense against danger. Her stomach tightened and she lost her appetite instantly when he added in nonchalantly, "Neither of you was none the wiser."

Ratonhnhaké:ton moved his chair back with haste and extreme worry for the safety of Davenport. Without him and Caroline, Achilles would have to use the residents to defend the town and they hadn't prepared for that. Had his father planned an attack while pretending to work alongside him? What a fiend! Haytham grabbed his left forearm sharply to sit him back down before he decided to turn the ship around and chastised, "Nobody is there presently. If I wanted to give a kill order, I would have done it in 1776."

"You expect me to believe you spared us out of the kindness of your heart?" he demanded heatedly at having his home exposed to his enemy and felt foolish for thinking Davenport would always be a haven. To have his father be the one to annihilate his sanctuary again infuriated and tore open that old childhood wound. Any fibers of understanding for the man and his decisions in life were ripped away like sutures on a healing wound. Haytham saw that his joke had not gone over well with the couple and he would count himself lucky if he wasn't flung overboard to be fed to sharks. He had never seen the Aquila as much of a threat at the start but these two were formidable- a brief reminder of how he felt with Ziio in his younger days.

"No, I spared the town because they are not assassins" he answered truthfully to end their fretful worrying and for once, didn't intentionally mean to hurt them. They had created a life in isolation away from society and deserved their right to live it. well, as long as his son stopped trying to kill his top men. Still, his problem was with him, not the town. His first purge of Davenport had been to extinguish the Assassins, not civilians. He was not in the business of needless bloodshed, simply the quickest route to reach results, and killing an entire town would not do him favors with the assassin. The young man showed no sign of believing his words and he leaned forward to insist, "If I wished it, I would have only you and Achilles killed. I'm not a butcher."

His remark also triggered another question from Ratonhnhaké:ton, given that two years had passed, and clarified, "1776?"

"Yes, my colleague sent a deviously charming woman to entertain you away from our plans" Haytham replied haughtily to Shay's plan that worked well enough until halfway through the year. He didn't think it would work but Shay convinced him to give it a try, given that it would only be one agent's compromised identity. His son had been misled rather easily, which was both shameful as a father but pleasing as a Templar mastermind, but it ultimately failed. He couldn't help but wonder if it was in part to the redhead, given that the two were childhood friends, and commented airily, "Unfortunately, it failed."

Caroline knew of only one cog that tried to block her wheel of friendship with Ratonhnhaké:ton that year and stated frankly, "Clara."

Her husband, however, held a kind hard and didn't believe that was possible. She never gave him an ominous ambiance at all, given that she was related to the innkeepers. Her own brother was married to Martha now, legally binding them as family. Clara was not the type to be an agent and shook his head with disbelief to sputter, "What? No, that can't be."

"Who else tried to draw you away every day?" his wife pointed out smartly and imitated fanning her face before sending a charming wink at him. Her affectionate expression disappeared within seconds into annoyance that her name resurfaced again. He knew better than to speak the woman's name, remaining quiet to avoid the figurative doghouse, and she asked the Templar, "Am I right?"

"I can't reveal my spies" he answered aloofly to exposing his hierarchy to the two in return for trust. The woman wasn't really anywhere near the middle section of officers, still undergoing information gathering, and he planned to keep her there. If her son was easily fooled, he could always retry using her as bait to crumble the married couple.

Stop that, you're supposed to work on a partnership, he reminded himself sharply to stop plotting his own son's demise for victory. The tiny bridge built between them had shattered with his revelation so he had to pick up the pieces and rebuild. Boy, did he hate that part.

"I highly doubt it's Mary or Walter" Caroline pointed out flatly to the other two visitors that year because one was too young for the Templars. That is, if they weren't hiring kids which would be downright terrifying. The other candidate was now married and living with her sister, who she promised to protect. Dark thoughts filtered into her mind because infiltrating a family to know their secrets for a well-played game of chess that would lead to their demise was conniving. She couldn't picture her brother-in-law like that and rage rose inside her heart at placing her sister in danger. As their protector, she promised to keep them safe! She surprised the two and the other sailors enjoying their breakfast when she lunged across the table to reach for the Haytham's cape. Her fingers grasped the air when his reflexes worked in his favor and she accused angrily, "It better not be Walter, I swear-"

"Never in my life do I wish to anger a Scotswoman!" he interjected with alarm to her lightning speed because she could have easily stabbed him in the jugular with her hidden knife if unleased. His son was an observant lone wolf when it came to anger that was pushed into physical attacks but the redhead was the alpha wolf that dove for any threat in her eyesight. For once, he wished for backup. It didn't help that his son was watching the interaction with mild amusement rather than helping while his wife scowled down at him. Why was he suddenly reminded of his nanny? Waving his hands to show he meant no harm, he spoke earnestly, "You can be quite terrifying but no, it was a female agent."

Caroline aimed a suspicious gaze at him once more before neatly sitting down in her chair to resume breakfast. Taking a sip of her bitter coffee, her tense shoulders relaxed and she remarked brightly with a sneaky smirk, "Good, I don't feel bad if I have to rough her up one day."

"Caroline!" her husband sighed to her protective and rather dangerous nature against the other woman. He was not the type to hold a grudge against the opposite sex for giving her attention but then again, she only had eyes for him.

That warm bubbly feeling that sprouted in his heart was soon replaced by embarrassment when she pointed out sarcastically, "What am I supposed to do? Give her a gift basket for manipulating our town and putting my family at risk?"

Haytham concealed a snicker that slipped past his lips to the squabbles of young love at seeing that his spy caused quite the damage. It was aimed more between the two, apparently, by the warning glare in her eyes while his son offered an apologetic one. Their locked gazes were interrupted by Caroline's subordinate, Adam, when the young blond man stopped to salute his officers. He really did remind her of Samuel when sailing and Adam turned his attention to the captain to greet respectfully, "Sir!"

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded silently in acknowledgment but sat at attention when the sailor turned to his wife to inform, "Mrs. Burnett, we spotted the Welcome."

"What?" was the unison chorus from the captain, navigator, and Templar to the mission update.

Adam shrunk slightly against their undivided attention and sharp gazes, his blue eyes blinking rapidly as he managed to say, "She's heading towards dry dock in North Carolina."

"Let's go" Ratonhnhaké:ton said to his wife with a firm nod and she followed him diligently when he left the table. This was the first time they had spotted the frigate after losing sight of it a few days prior but the navigation team found it again. He hoped they wouldn't have to travel too long to catch Church or he would be driven mad by his father.

"Maybe I can finally buy a decent loaf of bread" Haytham pondered aloud to purchasing sustenance that wouldn't disappoint him daily. Despite bringing little with him on the trip, he had his wallet and money to support a few luxuries. His bedding was uncomfortable, the bathing arrangements were ghastly, and the food made him want to fish out at sea. Ratonhnhaké:ton spared his father an unamused glance over his right shoulder and the older man scoffed indignantly to promise, "And find Church, I haven't forgotten."

---

Ratonhnhaké:ton took a rowboat to the docks with Haytham and Caroline to tail the Welcome. The other frigate had indeed stopped in Wilmington, most likely to restock, and this gave the Aquila the chance to catch up. Not wanting the other ship's crew to detect them, he ordered the Aquila to choose a farther distance to anchor the ship while they traveled ahead. Haytham shifted from a bored Templar to a relentless bloodhound once they arrived, ordering the two to use the rooftops to move around the port. Ratonhnhaké:ton was not particularly fond of following orders from him but if his father wanted to dive headfirst into the investigation, fine.

Boarding the ship was easier said than done because Church had brought quite the mercenaries to protect his escape voyage. Haytham could only wonder how much money he pocketed from embezzling, irritating him even more. He wanted to walk straight onto that ship and slaughter everyone but he would more than likely be killed halfway through his attack. It was a silly dream of drastic action. Infiltration through the water to sneak onboard was an idea suggested by his son but they didn't know where Church would be on that frigate. Having the ship docked would only allow the man to escape into the city and another goose chase would ensue.

The only other option was subduing an officer, stealing their attire, and sneaking onboard. Haytham's face would be recognizable but his son's might not, given that half his face was concealed while traveling. The redhead was another potential player that camouflaged herself quite well but Ratonhnhaké:ton refused to risk her life alone. The trio decided to go with this plan and lie in wait by the docks to begin tagging along behind their chosen candidate. Haytham remained on the ground while the couple took to the rooftops to keep an eye on their target.

Unfortunately, their target bolted when they caught a glimpse of Haytham's tracking. The light traffic in the dock's business district didn't help to conceal him in comparison to the larger crowds. This promptly led to a chase on the ground and the rooftops, urging the Welcome's officer to hasten his steps to escape. This would also mean alerting the entire ship about their presence there if he reached his destination. Haytham resisted shooting out the man's kneecap since they needed the uniform intact without holes and bloodstains. This put most of their weapons out of the question to use and Caroline told her husband while running, "This is exactly why a whip is the perfect tool!"

Despite the years, his wife did not relent on purchasing a whip to mimic Aveline. For the first time, he wondered if she was correct but their height on the rooftop would make it impossible to use on an opponent on the ground. He offered her an amused smile as they ran across the rooftop of a printing press in the business district of the port. Haytham beckoned their attention with a loud holler to echo the target's moving location, "Eleven o'clock!"

Haytham was not pleased with the slower pace of the other two, annoyed that he was staying ahead in the chase. When did the younger generation begin slacking off? Were these their famed Assassin skills? He might as well do this alone at that rate. Their frazzled target turned sharply to the left to head into an open three-story building which prompted the other couple to find the nearest access point inside. A majority of the windows were wide open and none held glass, making their entry easier. This only annoyed the Templar even more because he could find a hiding space or slip into another building or alley, urging the other two, "Keep after him!"

Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't need to be micromanaged and knew how to track an enemy. The building lay ahead of them and with them infiltrating the top level and his father by the ground, they could flush him out. With his loud racket, he would give away their position and he called back, "Father, would you-"

"You two are slower than turtles!" he exclaimed dramatically as he stood by the open doorway of the brick building. He would have hurled his hat at his son if it wouldn't have become stuck somewhere on the rooftops. Were they simply not capable of clearing obstacles? They were younger than he for goodness sake!

The Assassins were more careful in their approach because unlike the Templar, a soft or damaged roof could easily cause a leg injury. The cobblestone ground was safer for running and sturdier which made speed more possible to his father. Ratonhnhaké:ton took the lead to expose any weak structures while also dodging any pipes, chimneys, or latched windows that jutted out from the rooftop. Trying to rile his father for the insult, he shot back smartly, "Slow and steady can win the race!"

Haytham watched the two reach the edge of the opposite building as they prepared to jump, leading him to retort, "Only losers say that. It's why the mother turtle abandons her clutch!"

The couple ignored his angry blurts, propelling themselves across the short distance between buildings. Each of them latched onto a windowsill to grasp onto the building and avoid falling, pulling themselves up to the nearest open window to enter. Ratonhnhaké:ton slipped in without another word to be rid of his father's presence while Caroline poked her head out from her own window to holler back, "We're not here to debate the family bonds of turtles!"

Ratonhnhaké:ton managed to enter an abandoned room, exiting the dilapidated and tiny room for the nearest stairwell. Did people live here? Caroline told him colonists would sometimes live in cramped and shoddy buildings called tenements to afford a place to live when poor. It was not a place he would have liked to live and understood why his wife's family desired to leave the city. She exited from her own empty room with creaking footsteps, not eager to stay any longer on the uneven flooring. The dust-covered floors and rotten holes in the walls solemnly reminded her of the last years spent in Boston. Meeting her spouse in the tiny hallway, he descended the stairs with creaky steps while she decided to hop on the banister to slide down. Unfortunately, she failed to budge at all with her own momentum and abandoned her quirky idea immediately. Good thing she hadn't fallen over.

While the couple descended from the higher floors, Haytham ascended from the ground level. He could hear the thundering footsteps of cowardice and fear, along with the loud bumps of knees hitting the stairs. Well, his chances of catching the sailor increased. He would have an outfit for espionage and interrogate for answers on Church's goal. With all parties converging towards the middle of the building, Haytham expected either himself or the couple to catch him. Instead, he was flabbergasted when they all met on the second floor after a set of stairs with no sailor to show for it. Before Haytham could demand answers, Ratonhnhaké:ton used his special vision to track the target and darted off to the right after the man.

Entering one of the tiny barren rooms, he noticed an empty window at the end. A likely escape route. Calling back to his team, he informed them before squeezing through the smaller window to spot an adjacent brick building in closer range. He didn't need to jump forcefully like the first landing and practically dove across through a larger open window. Landing in a neat roll, he was on his feet immediately to thwart off anyone dwelling inside but it was empty. He cleared his nose when dust filtered through the room from his arrival. How old were these buildings? Were they abandoned from the great fire years prior?

Ratonhnhaké:ton picked up frantic movement from below and followed it diligently. Meanwhile, Caroline made up the rear of the team by waiting to jump her turn and avoided being smacked in the face by Haytham's cape. The things she did for this family. Ratonhnhaké:ton was already gone by the time the two entered the next building but down was the only route for the fleeing target. For once, Haytham wished for a sailor that didn't have great stamina and wondered what Church was feeding them. They were likely eating better than him- lucky bastards! His body was likely starving and wasting what little energy was left. Is that why the other two were so slow?

The new building was in worse condition than the last with floorboards that sunk and creaked horribly. They were rounding on the second floor when unstable shaking began to reverberate through the wooden framework of the building. Ratonhnhaké:ton realized that the sailor's escape was crumbling what little stability the building had and debated on heading forward. What if the entire building crumbled on top of them? He hesitated on descending further, which only allowed Haytham to catch up to him.

"What are you waiting for?" he demanded briskly to seeing him standing around staring at the floor. Had the sailor injured him somehow? That was the only allowable excuse for slowing down progress. Was he going to let the man escape? The Welcome would leave within the hour!

Haytham shoved past him to lead the search once more but Ratonhnhaké:ton called out worriedly, "The flooring isn't steady, it-"

He couldn't finish when loud creaking overcame his voice and they heard splintering wood below them. The stairs were breaking apart from the ground up and Haytham cursed their luck, debating on treading forward. Their decision was made to get moving to lower ground when the ceiling and third floor began to emit the same ominous noise. The trio ran with haste down the stairs to get closer to the first level to avoid harsh falls that could break bones. They were barely able to make it to the first floor when the wooden floorboards gave way completely, breaking apart to collapse. The three were forced to reach out and grasp the nearest stumps and jagged pieces that remained of the fallen stairs while avoiding the rest which was quickly falling.

Ratonhnhaké:ton reached out his right hand towards Caroline, who grabbed it, and he swung her like a pendulum behind his back so she could reach a lower piece of debris to cling onto. Her safety came first to him but she stuck tightly to the wall, keeping a vigilant eye to make sure he was safely behind her. The building's exterior was sturdy but the same couldn't be said of its inner framework as debris rained down over their heads. Sticking to the wall to descend to the first floor, Caroline was able to land on the dusty wood-ridden floor. She avoided the falling pieces of broken stairs and floorboards while waiting for her spouse to rejoin her. It was dangerous to stand around inside an unstable building but she wouldn't leave without him. With his cat-like finesse, he was down before Haytham and he motioned for her to wait outside while he lingered behind for his father.

They still had a mission on their hands and with regret, she exited the building to search for the sailor. Haytham had little patience for a safe landing but he wasn't getting any younger. Once he had enough space to make a decent cushion for himself, he let go of the prickly wooden stump to land on fallen floorboards. He had not traveled this far to be taken out by indoor stairs. Noticing his son waiting for him, he didn't know whether to feel some relief or chastise him about finding safety. He decided that silence was best and the two exited the decrepit building to erupt into the sunlight once more.

Caroline hated to be the bearer of bad news because their target left little in tracks to follow. His lone trail merged with others in the closest street, blending in to become a tangled mess of footprints. The worse part was that the tracking abilities with their sensitive sight were marred with the man retracing his old steps. This likely meant he was on his way back to warn the Welcome. Meeting her husband's gaze with an apology, she admitted sullenly, "He's gone."

"Likely returning to warn Church" Haytham sighed with disappointment to losing their first chance to stop the weasel. They were going to keep chasing this man further south, weren't they? He wanted to smack his son over the head for hesitating on chasing him and prioritizing their safeties. His altruistic endeavors left them with nothing but they did have their lives. He wasn't particularly happy about losing, not used to it at all, and muttered bitterly, "That was a waste."

"At least we tried" Ratonhnhaké:ton pointed out firmly to spin an optimistic side of their ordeal. They could have easily been killed in that building but they emerged safely without scratches. Maybe a few splinters. He didn't want to hear any negativity because one loss didn't equal defeat. Otherwise, he would have given up long ago.

Crossing his arms, Haytham wasn't willing to accept their half-assed attempt and grumbled, "And failed horribly."

Being the peacemaker of the group, Caroline clapped her hands to call attention and refocus their minds elsewhere. The Welcome would become aware of their arrival and leave promptly which made a chase useless now. Taking a page out of her husband's book, she looked to the brighter side of things. They could use the rest of their time there to restock the Aquila and enjoy a hot meal, suggesting with a friendly smile, "Seeing as we're out of luck, sweaty, and hungry- can we go eat?"

---

They expected for Haytham to lash out about their priorities but after experiencing pitiful food, he was more than willing to eat in the city. After the two assassins were forced to follow Haytham for what he called purchasing 'decent people's food', they reluctantly carried the excess bags of groceries behind the man. Why? Because they were too nice to decline. Ratonhnhaké:ton was not amused to not only playing a scout, losing a mission, and now, playing a butler for his father. Caroline didn't really care, given that their target had set sail and they would be a few hours ahead. That, and she managed to score herself a nice jar of molasses to enjoy. They would make up for lost time by manning the ship southward through the night to close the distance. Without food, they would be helpful to nobody and liable to turn on each other from hunger.

This became plainly obvious after ordering food at a moderately decent eatery where alcohol was served, pleasing the redhead. Ratonhnhaké:ton reminded her that he wasn't carrying her back and both of their groceries because one was liable to fall into the sea. The couple had been picking up drinks to go with their early lunches and once they returned to the table, Ratonhnhaké:ton glared at his father instantly. The three hot meals that were bought not even twenty minutes ago were half-eaten with only Caroline's being mercifully spared. The redhead quirked an eyebrow at Haytham devouring his own plate while her husband's was half-eaten.

"Did you eat my food?" Ratonhnhaké:ton demanded with dismay to his audacity to eat another person's food. Did he somehow feel entitled to his things? He worked hard to earn his money to keep himself and his wife fed! This was their first hot meal that was somewhat fresh after weeks out at sea!

Haytham feigned innocence to the missing meat pie on his plate but untouched mashed potatoes. After eating dry and tasteless food, his taste buds were overcome by the cheap and greasy food. He wasn't proud of it but he'd gluttonously taken it – not that he would easily admit it. It wasn't fantastic but compared to the food onboard the Aquila, it was a feast. He pointed to the eaten meal with his fork, ignoring his son's intense glare, and asked casually, "Was that yours?"

The young man swiped the desecrated plate to save what was left of it, inspecting the portion of mashed potatoes for any tampering. Why would he leave the mashed potatoes alone? When had his father become a stealing raccoon? When he saw no spoon or fork markings over the potatoes, he narrowed his eyes at Haytham to speak firmly, "I left for a minute!"

The nonchalant smile of supremacy aimed at him only incensed Ratonhnhaké:ton further when his father reasoned easily, "There's a Kenway rule: Finders keepers."

"That doesn't make sense" Ratonhnhaké:ton stated coldly to his poor excuse because he would never eat someone else's food. Even when he was curious about his wife's, he always asked first before daring to use his fork. It was apparent that his father held no self-control with other people's food and he felt disappointed for losing half his meal. He wanted to scold his atrocious manners but he was angrier about his lost meal.

"You can have it back, it's hardly touched" Haytham insisted helpfully to play down stealing his son's meal but he couldn't help his hunger! What was he expected to do, eat his own groceries or return to the Aquila for a tasteless dinner?

Ratonhnhaké:ton sank into one of the chairs with heavy feet while Caroline quietly sat down beside him. She empathized with him since Haytham already tried to steal his bed, pilfer through the Aquila's food cabinets, control their route south, and now ate his food. What was next, trying to hijack the ship? Her right hand reached out to squeeze his left underneath the table in silent support, silently conveying that he keep calm in public. They weren't exactly in the north anymore and had to tread carefully. He didn't care about being vocal after that chase, needless shopping, and hunger. If his father didn't care about his feelings, neither would he. Leaning closer to his wife, he whispered with annoyance, "He ate my food."

"We'll order more, have mine" she suggested with a helpful smile since she carried extra money for their seafaring voyages. Now that they were married, she earned a salary by helping him with the finances of Davenport's Prospect and the general store. It had been hard to bid the lumber mill goodbye after giving her father a hand for years but both he and her husband were more than happy to let her take on small tasks. She would never fail in keeping her spouse fed, warm, and safe, nudging her shoulder against his with affection, "You've earned it."

She handed the fork over to him so he could enjoy her meat pie and fill his stomach. Ratonhnhaké:ton felt guilty taking his wife's food but she merely winked in reassurance. She never said no to potatoes and happily picked up her spoon to dig into the mashed potatoes of his plate. If Haytham decided to sneak any poison in there, she would know soon enough. Just as he protected her, she would protect him fiercely. Grabbing the ale of her choice for a day's hard work, she took one sip and frowned instantly.

"This drink hardly has a kick" she muttered with disappointment, looking to her husband for pity with a humorous pout. Ratonhnhaké:ton swallowed his bite before laughing at her lost expression, brightening his demeanor instantly. He really did feel his best at her side but his father's earlier comments about keeping her safe at home picked at his mind. One day, their shared adventures would come to an end but he could savor the memories of today. She smacked her lips with distaste to the subpar drink, missing the Mile's End instantly, and mused aloud, "I need a better one."

Ratonhnhaké:ton refrained from shaking his head when his father signed his death warrant by commenting, "You look more like a lightweight."

Caroline's eyebrow quirked in subtle offense and she held out the cup to challenge the man. For once, Ratonhnhaké:ton kept quiet to let his father have a taste of just desserts. He knew better than to take a sip from his wife's drinks since she could keep pace with the other sailors. Not one to back down, Haytham grabbed it from the side to pull it away for a sip, stating confidently, "I bet it's nothing more than . . ."

The moment the strong alcohol burned the back of his throat, he regretted tasting it. Is this what the redhead drank?! With great regret, he swallowed the portion rather than spitting it out and giving the couple more verbal ammunition. Setting the mug down, he sighed to exhale and grieve the loss of sensation to the back of his throat. Caroline simply picked up the mug to drink it without hesitation while he gasped weakly, "Poison!"

"To those who can't handle their liquor" she chuckled smartly, aware that her husband found his downfall by alcohol amusing. Her father had passed on his strong liver to her because she would become bubbly and speak gibberish while her father mumbled incoherently and fell asleep. She still couldn't get her husband to take a single sip, enjoying the chase, but respected his choice. He didn't like losing control of his senses and inhibitions, leading her to quip, "I see where Ratonhnhaké:ton gets it from."

"I beg your pardon, I can handle a beer" Haytham interjected in protest because the other man refused to accept a single drink. No matter how much he compromised, haggled, criticized, and pretended to plead, every attempt failed.

Caroline did not find improvement in the beer with repeated taste and stood up from the table. She would order another drink and a new meal for her husband. Before leaving the two, she pointed a finger at each in warning to play nice but only smiled at Ratonhnhaké:ton. Her left hand brushed against the ends of his dark hair to reassure him to stay strong while she fetched more food. He was not fond of being left behind and wanted to bolt after his wife but his stomach gurgled angrily for sustenance. What were they supposed to speak about? They already shared enough time on the ship.

Despite continuing to pick through his meal, Haytham could sense his son's inquisitive gaze on him. He would never let his guard down anywhere, would he? Or was he fighting back the temptation of curiosity to learn more? Every time he believed he had an advantage, the boy managed to throw that early triumph into the deepest ocean trench. Deciding to return to his good side, he swallowed his pride and admitted quietly, "Despite the failure today, we worked rather well."

"You're offering a compliment?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked uncertainly, believing it to be a trick to let down his guard. When had his father given him a positive comment? So far, he racked up about five daily complaints about his steering. Not to mention, he had to hear him grumble for most of the morning about their deplorable food. He was not itching to earn his loyalty this far out in his life or gain insight that would risk manipulation. The random comment did poke at his moral compass to take the high road but he chided, "Did you get drunk already?"

"No!" his father exclaimed indignantly to being labeled a drunk so early. A few sips wouldn't knock him down but the woman could tolerate strong drinks. His throat still burned from the horrible alcohol and he briefly wondered what it took to knock her out. His new daughter-in-law had become more formidable as an obstacle to his son. Still, she wasn't entirely hostile towards him but rather cautious which was a smart move. Pointing at the redhead, he leaned back in his seat to ponder aloud, "How does she survive that poison? Regular poison wouldn't work on her."

Ratonhnhaké:ton narrowed his eyes at the underlying message and his father sighed dramatically, "I kid. I'm not seeking the demise of your loved ones."

Haytham slid his cup of beer to share it with his pouting son and offered an olive branch, "Now, have a drink with your father."

"I don't drink alcohol" the other man declined simply, turning away from the offering to keep an eye on Caroline. Being far from home, he became more watchful over her despite her fighting abilities. He also needed to keep aware of his surroundings by pinpointing dangerous individuals or potential fire hazards. It was surprising how many places went up in smoke nowadays.

His father disrupted his thoughts once more by insisting, "Not even a sip?"

"No" Ratonhnhaké:ton replied flatly with emphasis on the word, grabbing the cup, and placing it back on the opposite side of the table. His meal would suffice with food only, not alcoholic beverages. He could survive with half of the meat pie and his discarded mashed potatoes that now held spoon markings from Caroline's covert poison testing. Her dedication and loyalty to him was unlike any he had seen, appreciating his wife even more. Wasn't he the one meant to be taking care of her, not the other way around?

Haytham blinked awkwardly to grasping at strings to bond with his son and questioned with confusion, "Then what in the world do you do to unwind?"

"None of your business" Ratonhnhaké:ton shot back to his incredulous tone on his leisure activities. Daring to divulge any of them would likely lead to a smartass comment so it was best to stay silent. He still didn't know enough about the man to talk about his personal life. Having him onboard the Aquila near his wife and friends was already triggering his comfort level. Admitting his affinity for books, investigating frontier mysteries, rehabilitating wildlife, and exploring the outdoors might receive an admonishing look by the man. He didn't appear to be the type to survive in the outdoors for very long or lend a sympathetic hand.

"I am trying my best to understand you" his father pointed out truthfully, his voice hitching higher with frustration, and slouched in his chair with defeat. The man was a brick wall when it came to trust or prying a sentence from his lips that wasn't tinted with grimness. Why was he so distrustful? He was not Lee, who frankly deserved to have his dog withstand the rain in revenge for the past. His son and the redhead carried an open and friendly atmosphere with each other but once the light shifted to him, the bright gleam in his eye faded for distrust.

"You should have tried earlier in my youth" Ratonhnhaké:ton stated quietly because trying to amend for the past would not be an easy road. Killing Lee would be impossible with his interference and that was what his father could do to atone. He would rather have his mother back a hundred times over than reignite his relationship with Haytham and let Lee exist. There were times where he did feel they were reaching a balance of understanding but it didn't take long to derail. Each of them held to the ideals of their respective orders, making it even harder, and he sighed under his breath, "It is far too late."

He was having zero luck today and began to regret secretly eating his food, disagreeing quickly, "Connor-"

"If you truly mean to create a bridge, we have to work together" he compromised to swallow his distrust and bitterness of the past to turn a new leaf. Caroline and Faulkner were onboard to prevent him from being manipulated by his fancy words and stories. Frankly, he was surprised he hadn't spouted one about alcohol in Caroline's presence. While he became aggravated by stories of grandeur, she entertained their silliness.

Haytham was going to remind him that they worked as a team a few hours prior but his son narrowed his eyes to point out briskly, "You left us behind more than once."

"Fine, I may have gotten a little carried away" he sighed with aggravation to being nagged on his less than stellar personality traits but he wasn't one to tolerate slowness. His son and his wife were cautious when tracking their targets, keeping a safe distance, while he was gutsier in his approach. In his younger days, he was more daring in his attempts at victory and saw the same flicker in his son during battle. He was pretty sure his ears still had water from that early morning dive in the New York harbor. Despite their shared bloodline, they lived separate lives on different sides and he admitted with a hint of honest regret, "I am sorry that our lives turned out differently."

Ratonhnhaké:ton wondered whether his hearing began faltering because Haytham had never apologized to him. What was going on? He was reluctant to believe the man easily but the words were comforting to hear, silently agreeing with them. Their chance to live like a true family like the Burnetts had long passed and he offered his father a half-interested glance to murmur, "Hmm?"

Had that sip of beer affected him so easily? He could handle his own in liquor. Haytham chased away his own questions by pondering aloud about the different road his life could have taken. If he had been allowed to grow up with his father beside him, would he have traveled to the colonies? Would he have met Ziio and had their son? Being aware of his father's previous vagabond lifestyle, it was likely but Edward wanted him to grow up with an education and roof over his head. Tapping his fingers against the table, he stated simply, "In another life, I would likely have been an Assassin and dead with your mother."

"What?" Ratonhnhaké:ton blurted, dropping his fork instantly to the sharp dreary turn on the topic. Did he believe that being an Assassin was an automatic death sentence? Is that what he believed would happen to him as well?

Time and distance had not helped him or Ziio, nor him and their son, and left them all to resemble shattered pieces of glass. Their son managed to find a semblance of family which he was silently proud of and hoped he would take that path instead of the Assassins. Being affiliated with them would mean they would always be at opposite sides and peace would be difficult. His decision to follow the Templars had not yielded joy and fulfillment in life, leading him to be dubious that the other side would fare any better. Two generations had already failed in making family life last and he stated grimly, "I was not here when your mother was killed but I would have done my best to kill those responsible."

And I still will, he reminded himself because he owed her at least that. Their son might not believe he held any regard or affection for her but that was far from the truth. She had been one person, probably the only one, he was willing to seek out when he returned to the colonies in 1774. Unfortunately, that dream was dashed when his followers updated him on her current whereabouts.

Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't like to be reminded about her death, glancing down at the half-empty plate to poke at the mashed potatoes, and murmured quietly, "Everything happens for a reason."

"It's all left to chance" Haytham disagreed, not believing one was destined for greatness or misery. You were either born into safe hands or a tragedy waiting to happen. He had been lucky with the former but his son had his safety net ripped away. That fact about his rougher youth fascinated and perplexed him because the man refused to lose hope and optimism against fearful odds. There was a determined persistence to fight back with every ounce of strength rather than admit defeat. Maybe that was his luck. Shrugging carelessly, he spoke frankly, "Some of us are lucky, others are not."

The young assassin refused to believe it was all a game of chance. Otherwise, his mother's death would be meaningless and she was worth more than that. She had been his world and although he was too little to protect her then, he was strong enough now to protect his new family. He would not let tragedy befall his new home and beloved wife, wondering if the disappointments in life soured his father's views. Sparing a glance in her direction, he asked cautiously, "Is that what you Templars believe?"

"No, that's me" Haytham replied easily because he had free will to think for himself. Life wasn't all invested in the order or people were likely to become insanely fanatic. The Templar life was all that had he had known for most of his life and was comfortable with that decision. Why would he switch sides or abandon his ideals this far deep when the endgame was close? He oversaw his life and the gambles he took had paid off so far, suggesting to the unknown future, "We are sharing a drink now but what will happen a year from now?"

"Continuing a partnership could lessen deaths on both sides" his son reasoned to end needless bloodshed but Haytham appeared apathetic to it. While the Templar preferred results with prompt efficiency, Ratonhnhaké:ton chose the path with the least casualties. It was one of their many heated debates but now that they were on the Aquila, the captain's rules were to be followed. Haytham would not hold to that rule on land, unleashing his repressed annoyance at enemies, and he frowned when Ratonhnhaké:ton enforced, "But only if you stop killing every person we interrogate."

"It's insurance that they don't ruin our plans" he justified snippily to his use of the hidden blade or weapon against those who could return to kill him. He knew enemies were easily made and ending them first prevented revenge in the future. His son, however, decided to take a gamble on a person's life and that they would be enlightened to take a different path in life. He highly doubted that anyone would choose that, especially when money and power were involved, and commented flatly, "Despite your formidable size, you can be quite soft."

Ratonhnhaké:ton would not tolerate any more insults against his character and stood up to leave the table. He reached his fill of conversation with his father for the day and sought the company of his wife. As he pushed his chair back to stand, he accidentally backed up into another visitor. Embarrassed to losing his vigilance and dexterity, he apologized politely for the accident, "I'm sorry."

The bald colonial man wasn't keen on having his path blocked, much less by a native. They were already in cahoots with the English to run unchecked and his dark eyes narrowed at the younger man. Ratonhnhaké:ton refrained from throwing up his hands to say what else was new in colonial society. Unless you had white skin and a European accent, suspicious eyes would follow you everywhere. His brown eyes dulled when the other man threatened rudely, "Watch it, savage."

While Ratonhnhaké:ton was used to the slurs during his travels, Haytham was not one to tolerate such ignorance. He still remembered punching out a few men for derogatory comments about Ziio's attire, which he found rather fetchingly unique. Sitting up in his chair, he called attention to the man by demanding, "I beg your pardon?"

His smooth English accent didn't help Ratonhnhaké:ton at all in this situation and the hostile man retorted, "We don't take kindly to outsiders here."

Haytham had heard much worse in his life and was unafraid to the threat by the man, given that he appeared to need serious exercise. He must have been a simple laborer or working a stationary job. Crossing one leg over the other, he leaned back in his chair with a smirk to inquire with curiosity, "You don't say, how far down the line are you inbred?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton clenched his fists to the instigation in his voice, which they certainly didn't need right now. He didn't want anyone defending him when they were there to eat and leave. Nobody needed to know about their presence there. Quickly, he spared the Templar a brief glance to warn him away and tried to block him from view by insisting, "Father."

His broad shoulders slumped when the other man heckled loudly with disdain, "Oh, a half-breed. You northerners are too friendly with those beasts-"

Ratonhnhaké:ton withheld a sigh of embarrassment this time when his father stood up with his shoulders held high. Seriously, he didn't need to have his honor or his mother's defended in a place they would likely never visit again. Actually, quite likely if this was the view of everyone who lived there. He expected the Templar to intimidate the man with a smartass reply and was not dissatisfied when Haytham declared, "The only beast anywhere close is you. With those beady close-set eyes and bulbous head, one must wonder of your origins."

For the first time, Ratonhnhaké:ton offered a nervous chuckle to deescalate the situation and told the man hastily with apology, "He doesn't mean-"

"On the contrary, I mean quite a bit!" Haytham interjected confidently and stood up from the chair to approach the other man. Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to shove his way in between the two to separate everyone and leave the scene quickly. Where was his wife when he needed an extra hand? He missed being punched across the temple by the angry man when he tried to knock out his father but Haytham tossed Ratonhnhaké:ton away with one swift push. Skidding to stop before he smacked into an empty table nearby, Haytham saw that his son was safely out of harm's reach and grinned with delight at his opponent, "Pity, you can't even throw a decent punch. Here, let me correct your mistake."

Caroline didn't need to turn around when a ruckus of breaking furniture and glass exploded behind her. She expected to find her husband and his father in the middle of a fistfight but the sight before her was completely different. The two managed to get into a brawl as partners rather than opponents, almost causing her to smile with glee at the bonding. Well, it appeared more like her husband was trying to play gatekeeper and failing horribly. Bar fights would only draw unwanted attention that they didn't need, no matter how much fun they could be. Keeping her husband's lunch in her left hand, she decided that her intervention was required to deescalate the situation. Without hesitation, she strode forward past the patrons moving away and waited for a clear shot before throwing a handful of sand into the aggressor's eyes to temporarily blind him. It was a far better option than shooting them or an indoor smoke bomb.

Haytham was ready to land an uppercut but Ratonhnhaké:ton grabbed the arm to stop him. Why couldn't he eat one meal without a fight? Honestly, what did his mother see in this man? Caroline ushered the two men out of the nearest door to escape the eatery before any of them received injuries. The trio left in haste, despite Haytham was pulled along by his son, and turned sharply by the first corner to lose sight of the place. Thankfully, nobody chased after them and Caroline shook her head at the two men in disappointment. She left them to bond, not create bar fights, and chastised their behavior, "I hope you both learned a valuable lesson."

Ratonhnhaké:ton smiled faintly when his wife handed over his promised meal, along with the stolen plate and utensil. She didn't mean to take it but the men changed their low-key meal to a brawl. Maybe they were fated to lure attention. At least they were bonding by beating up a racist jerk. Rubbing her husband's back to coax him with safety, she ordered the two with a firm voice, "Now, let's get back onboard and moving."

She winced with a regrettable but loving sigh when her husband hugged her. How could she not love this man? Now, if only his father could see the kindhearted and honorable son he had. For Ratonhnhaké:ton, he wondered why his father decided to defend him. Or was he defending past actions rather than him? He never knew with the man. At seeing their open display of public affection, Haytham sought the next best thing: his bag of groceries. His blue eyes narrowed into slits of suspicion to the weight of his bag and declared slowly, "Wait, she's light. Did that degenerate lout steal my rotisserie chicken?"

"Kenway!" Caroline barked before he decided to bolt back inside and cause another rumble. She raised her right hand, which now held one of his grocery bags, and pointed out dryly, "Clucky's in the bag."

The unsheathed hidden blade of his right hand retreated back into its gauntlet and he shifted into his crafty but peppy demeanor. Setting aside a war of revenge for his chicken, he nodded with agreement, "Right, shall we?"

---

A/N: Another Haytham quirky chapter as he tries to bond with his son while figuring out if he means it or should use it for Templar advantage. He's a complex character. Meanwhile, poor Connor just wants him to get out of his hair and stop heckling him like a dad. I wanted to focus more on the tattered father-son relationship for this chapter rather than another mission but the Bitter End will come in the next chapter. I will always remember Connor finding Haytham beating up Church on the Welcome and it cracks me up since he's always in control. Meanwhile, Caroline is just trying to observe the father-son bonding and poking Haytham to play nice.

In other news, I'm not sure if I will be able to update in the monthly timeslots for this story due to an upcoming surgery in three weeks (not exactly happy about it but I need it done). Not looking forward to an estimated monthly recovery so life is grinding to a halt soon. Regardless, thank you for always taking the time to read my chapters because I appreciate you all. Thank you to my last chapter reviewers:

danelleprae: Thank you, I hope he gave a good laugh and he'll be losing his mind again when he finds out Connor decided to stick with Burnett rather than Kenway for a surname.

taylor115: I hope you enjoyed Haytham's reaction to Connor's marriage. He's quite slighted about not getting an invite, lol.

East Coast Captain: Same here, I think he would have done his best to be a dad if Ziio hadn't been killed and he wasn't so enmeshed with the Templars. He was really not happy that Charles kept prying around the forest around the Mohawk village after Haytham called off the search and without Haytham around after he left to rescue his sister, he and the others were able to meet Connor and set everything off in motion. I find it heartbreaking that Ziio's death struct him hard upon his return to the colonies and I assume it must have been disheartening to see Connor following Washington, who gave the kill order to begin with. Caroline will be playing therapist for the two while poking them to bond.

Chriswill02: Connor and Haytham bicker but the more I write, the more dig into Haytham's thinking. On one hand, he has a son that really needed a paternal figure in his life and on the other, that son is hellbent on killing everyone in his order. I keep laughing at Connor's 'I don't need your lectures' mode.

Next Chapter Excerpt:

Ratonhnhaké:ton pushed open the slightly ajar door into the room with Caroline close on his heels. He didn't want to distrust his father but he could always betray both himself and Church before escaping. Haytham's target and sole focus was Church while his was finding the supplies, recovering them, and eliminating Church. The couple was surprised to find the scene awaiting them with both men inside the room since they expected a clean swift ending. Instead, they arrived at a bloody brawl. Haytham clearly had the upper hand by looming over Benjamin Church, who was sprawled over the floor on his back, while beating him with his bare fists.

Caroline paused behind her husband, who stared in bewilderment between the two, and holstered her pistols at seeing the room empty. It was only them in that lone room and nobody would be treading past the door, sealing it shut. She was pleasantly amused by her father-in-law's choice in attack and pondered aloud to her spouse, "Huh, didn't expect fists at all. Maybe a punch or two."

Haytham dealt with enough of Benjamin's side dealings to grow tired of his selfish needs. The Templar's Order was meant to improve society, not dabble in debauchery and greed. At least, that was his mindset and what he originally taught them all. Had his words gone through one ear and out the other? Punching the man across the left cheek, he called back, "Some fights require a personal touch."

Ratonhnhaké:ton was not the type of man to prolong unneeded physical torture on his enemies. This is what made him different from his father and his men. They had boarded and gained control of the Welcome, subdued Church, and the stolen goods were within reach. For him, that was a good end to a mission. He placed his left hand between his father and Benjamin to stop the next onslaught of attacks, ordering firmly, "Enough! We came here for a reason."

The Templar was not particularly keen on his son's methods to play nice but he did make Benjamin a decent punching bag for a few minutes. He didn't want to sour the peace he had brokered with him and swallowed his annoyance to let him have the rest of the interrogation. Roughly releasing the bleeding man, he stood upright to back off and muttered, "Different reasons, it seems."

Caroline shot him a firm look to get along with her husband and he raised his bruised hands peacefully. Her left eyebrow quirked to the bloody marks on his knuckles but she said nothing. As long as they weren't aimed at any of her friends and family, he could punch out any Templars he wished. Ratonhnhaké:ton kneeled down to gaze down at the pitiful Church, who now sported a bruised and bloodied face, and calmly inquired, "Where are the supplies you stole?"

His kindness was not returned by the other Templar when Benjamin spat out blood to snap back, "Go to hell."

Haytham wasn't surprised by the attitude at all which was the main irritator that led him to begin punching the man. Subduing the man into unconsciousness and mercifully killing him wasn't for a man like Benjamin. Ratonhnhaké:ton said nothing but unsheathed his hidden blade to stab the man in his midsection. He didn't automatically want to go for a killing strike but he had proved to be uncooperative thus far. Haytham tried not to snort to his action and crossed his arms to point out smartly, "See? Even you can't hold back from his punchable face either."

Ratonhnhaké:ton ignored the goading because he would not be like his father, resolving to stay on an honorable path. He would not make the man suffer longer than he needed to because he required answers to finish the mission. The agreement between Caroline and Washington would succeed by presenting the stolen goods and he would make sure that their loved ones stayed safe. There was more riding on this than supplies and he questioned tightly, "I ask again, where are the supplies?"

Benjamin could feel his life slipping away with the blood soaking through his clothes. Was this the end of everything? Had it been a decent life to bid farewell to? Given that he was alone on the deck of a ship with nobody on his side, he wasn't so sure. It was too late now anyway. He would not be leaving the Welcome that day but the other ship had triumphed over his. Clearing his throat to catch his breath, he answered the other man with reluctance, "On the island yonder, awaiting pickup. But you've no right to it. It isn't yours."

Haytham was almost embarrassed by how childish his old colleague sounded but Caroline beat him in responding frankly, "It isn't yours either."

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Thank you as always for reading!