Merry Christmas Guys!
Sorry for the long wait, but I have an extra special gift for you guys. I want to share with you my music playlist for this Fic I am half way done with collecting the music that has inspired me to write this!
youtube playlist? list = PLHIT9P3Qeg6V865TPQ-hBo3vkPZKxJM0k
I hope you guys enjoy your holidays and spread much Christmas joy :)
-Catherine
James poured a cup of whiskey for Catherine. She was quiet, but from the meeting that took place. "What right does he retain to say that to you?"
"My father works for him, that is why." Catherine gripped the glass. Her mother would be raising hell water if she knew she was drinking before the age of 18, but Catherine didn't give a damn at this point. "Who the hell does that man think he is?" She growled under her breath.
"Easy Cathy," He took a set next to the girl, "Don't want to do anything you'd regret,"
"Oh, I want to do many things!" She sipped her whiskey, "I want to shove my foot up so far his arse that he can eat his own teeth."
James quietly slipped the bottle from the teenager before she could take too many cups of the spirts. " Jesus girl," He placed the bottle under the bar before walking over to her sketchbook that was sitting on the bar. He flipped it to a clean page, "If we are going to attain your life back on track, we will need to get you help with the tavern."
Catherine sipped her drink until it was a drain, "What if I don't want too?" Her cheeks become warm from the liquor.
"What else would you do?"
Catherine was alone to her thoughts for a moment. How could she recount James about the history of her family's legacy? The Templars and the assassins? The Irish girl arose into a dangerous situation and would hate to bring James into the mess.
"I was offered an apprenticeship up north," Catherine lied, but it wasn't an outright lie. Taking up the blades of an Assassin was like the steps of an apprenticeship. "From a friend of Samuel Adams."
James was taken back by her statement, "What kind?"
"A business type,"
James leaned onto the counter, "why didn't you confined to me earlier?"s
"I haven't had a chance."
The young man gave a sighed before he started writing an help-wanted ad that he would bring to the printers. Once he was done writing the ad, Catherine slipped the paper away and grabbed the charcoal from his hand. She drew around the edges of the paper. She was quiet until she finished with what looks like decorative flowers around the corners of the papers. Drawing had always given Catherine peace of mind.
"To make it pop," She didn't care if it would cost extra to publish in the paper."I'll give you the money for the ad."
James collected the paper from her, "So…an apprenticeship."He hummed, "Why am I just hearing this now?"
"I haven't had a chance to talk to you yet."
"Are you going to reopen the Snowdrop?"
Catherine paused for a moment, "what choice in this matter do I have? As much as I would love to leave town. Leaving Kenway's arse in the dust, It's too risky."
James didn't want to lose her again. He wasn't ready for her just leave yet. She had lost everything, but it didn't mean she would have to leave. He grabbed her hand quickly, "Catherine, you don't have to go."
"Yes, I do."
James internal groaned, this wasn't the appropriate time to tell her, but she had to know. "You don't need to leave …I can help you."
"How? You're only a year away from completing your apprenticeship, and don't have much money. You still are supporting your mother and sister."
"I can finish early, then you can come back."
"and then what?"
"Marry me."
Catherine wasn't sure if she had gathered what he said correctly,"Can you repeat that?"She needed to clean out her ears if she heard him right.
His mouth was open but the words jumbled out. "Marry me, I can take care of you…"
Catherine's eyes mirrored James blue ones. "A pity marriage?" her voice was filled a somber tone. Did he really pity the girl that much?
"Nothing like that,"
Catherine obscured her face, trying to hide her embarrassment, "then what?"
"It's logical…We have known each other since we were kids, even your mother said it would be shocking if we didn't get married one day."
Catherine leaned back in her seat, the girl could not consider what she had just heard. Her best friend had just purposed to her. "So we just give into everyone's assumption of us and marry because my mother died?"
To her dismay, her whole life has been changing ever since the Boston massacre. Even the aspect of her childhood friendship with James was even changing.
"I am trying to protect you, but it's not just that-"
Catherine tore the ad out of her sketchbook and handed it to James, "I don't want to get married James…ever."She snubbed the conversation in the bud.
"I thought you always did,"
"I lied but observing what my mother went through with my father. Her heart was broke every time he left."
James made a disgusted noise of disbelief, "I would never do that to you, Catherine."
"Just no, I don't want to arrange this."
The apprentice sighed before taking the piece of paper from her, "Just think this over…I'll hand this over to the printers for the morning paper."
Catherine felt numb by his request but went into her pocket to pull out the coin. "Here,"
James took the small pouch before standing up, "Catherine, have a good night," There was a twinkle in his eyes that showed he was wounded by the rejection.
"Good night James,"
Her anger bleed into sorrow for rejecting him, but all she wanted was a sense of normality. She didn't look as she heard him exit the tavern with the door slamming behind the lad. The young Irish girl sat alone to her thoughts. She was angry and hurt. If her father had an ounce of love for her and her mother, he would be here comforting Catherine. Made damn sure his own daughter was safe, not have his associates tail her like she was criminal. The Templars are the criminals, not her.
Catherine went upstairs to her apartment above the tavern. Joffery and Conrad were settling in at an inn not too far from here. Rose never wanted to rent her own home out as an inn, which Catherine wouldn't adhere to that tradition. Especially since she did not want to touch her mother's room.
Catherine glance at the room across from the entrance of the apartment. It was her mother's room, the teenager couldn't remember the last time she was in there. The time was before Rose's death, that was for certain.
Everything in that room had a possession of bittersweet memories of the past. It was a vacant room with a reminder that her mother wasn't there anymore. The pain grew in her chest as she crossed the modest apartment into the master bedroom. The room laid untouched like it was a time capsule before the tragedy. Rose's favorite perfume lingered in the air.
The countless memories of snuggling up with her mother in the bedroom like a small slumber party. Catherine remembered the time her mother took the time to brush and braid her hair on the bed. The mother and daughter even shared a bedtime pray when she was a child.
Rose kissed Catherine's head as they kneeled together at the edge of the bed, "Now, keep those eyes closed until we finish. We need to make sure the Lord can hear us and watch over your father and us."
"And James?"
Rose chuckled at her child's gentle soul, "Yes, including James and his family. Now, why don't you lead in prayer."
Catherine smiled before folding her small fingers into a prayer and spoke in a clear voice. "Now, I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep…"
Rose was a proud Catholic even though there was a quite a bit of disdain towards their religion, but that never swayed the mother from the teachings of Catholicism. Rose even named her only daughter after the patron saint, Catherine of Alexandria. The colonies were mostly protestant with anti-catholic sentiments due to the foundations laid out in the initial years.
Catherine shook herself awake from the dreamy flashback before taking one last final glance around the room when she notices her mother's favorite shawl hanging loosely on the highest shelf in the closet. Catherine loved that shawl. It was a simple dull red rectangle fabric that had a multitude of purposes for an outfit. The teenage girl pulled the shawl down and examine herself in the mirror before wrapping it around her neck like a scarf. Her auburn curls laid gentle on the dull red fabric provoking her to think back to the assassins and their ionic hoods. She took the length of the red fabric and looped it into a hood pulling her hair, concealing her face. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to chase the night sky along the rooftops of Boston. Snuffing out any shadowy figures that meant to cause harm, like agents of the Templar order.
A fleeting thought of her father crept into her mind, the idea of Shay Cormac hunting her for being the exact thing that he despised. Catherine yanked the makeshift hood off onto the bed. The image of her father's blade pressed against her neck was all too clear.
Taking a seat on her mother's bed, she took a moment to breathe and think. "Please aid me, Lord." She whispered under her breath as she laid the scarf next to her. Catherine glanced around the room one more time until she noticed a small black chest in the closet that gave into her curiosity. Her mother was particular about her things and never allowed Catherine to snoop through her room.
Reaching into the closet, she pulled down the chest that was surprisingly light with rattling inside. Catherine opened the chest and to her surprise, she saw open letters along with leather gauntlets much like the ones Connor had received. They were smaller in size, obviously meant for someone with less muscle mass in their wrist. It dawned on her.
Rose was an Assassin…
Both her parents were assassins at one point in their lives before slipping down different paths. One a loving mother who ran a tavern and the other, a Templar knight, a famed Assassin hunter. Catherine recalled Achilles telling the girl of her mother's life. This must have been Rose's hidden blade.
Cautiously, she picked up the hidden blade, slipping it on her wrist before tightening the straps. It was the perfect fit. She wiggled her wrist hoping to unleash the blade which popped with the sound of a sliding metal.
The blade had been well taken care of.
Catherine spent a moment examining the leather gauntlet before moving onto the letter that had been laid next to the gauntlet. The letter was old, but there was no date on the top of the letter like normal. The words were smudged like it was hastily written.
My dear Sister,
I have no other choice but send you the location of the box. It would be right under the Templar's noses, but I beg you not to inform Cormac of this. The Templar's should not get their hands on this. It could mean the end of all freedom to the human race. This will be my dying wish more then likely unless we can beat them. Take care of yourself and little Catherine.
Your brother.
Liam
p.s.
It lays with our father.
That statement was odd in its self, but Catherine was too focused on trying to remember her uncle's face. She was only a young child when he died. The last time Catherine recalled the peculiar man was she was four years old. Her mother and uncle were having a shouting match that terrified Catherine as she sat under her bed listing them go at it.
"I can't do this anymore Liam! He is my husband! I love him!"
"THINK OF CATHERINE! THE WORLD SHE WOULD LIVE IN IF THE TEMPLARS WOULD HAVE A SAY."
"I am!"
"If you aligned yourselves with them, and not to protect this brotherhood…I will take Catherine away from you. I know he has corrupted you, but I will not permit him to corporate my niece. "
She felt like a pit had formed into her stomach, so much has gone on around her. Catherine was completely blind, but her. Excuse, she was a child in a world that she didn't adequately understand. The Irish girl slowly walked around holding the letter, she recalled Achilles telling her about the precursor box. This is what her father was after all these years, and she was holding the information to where this artifact was being kept.
It lays with our father.
Did Liam mean her Grandfather O'Brian? Was this mysterious artifact buried with her late grandfather?
Her stomach churned at the very idea of it, but her very fiber shook in disbelief. She felt as if eyes were on her back as she held this crucial information in her nimble fingers. Catherine quickly shoved the letter and hidden blade into the chest before putting it back in the closet.
Catherine didn't understand how far from the truth she was. The girl blew out the candle that lite the bedroom as she went to retire for the evening. Outside on the street, resisted a man that was looking up at the dark apartments of the tavern. The man blew his warm breath into his hands to keep his hands warm from the chill.
Thomas Hickey thought this would be an easy assignment keeping an attentive eye on the Cormac girl, but he knew he needed help. But that is why Haytham gave him this job, he had the ties to get the job done.