So, I told myself I would wait to post until I got the rest of the book done. I couldn't wait any longer due to school starting next week, but I at least have three chapters ahead written out. I am in the middle of working on the fourth, but I think I have under 10 chapters till this fic is finish and I will move onto another project. I promise you though, there will be a sequeal for Catherine. I just have a few other untapped AC fics.
-Moon
The Irish girl went to find herself parchment and ink to write a quick note to let Connor know the manor's location. James wasn't much for conversation for the last two day which was odd. Perhaps he was as nervous as her about the idea of stealing from Templars under disguise. Catherine managed to find an unoccupied room that she guessed that was hers.
The room was luxurious for any young woman. The walls adorned with pink and red flowers. A four post bed against the wall in the center of the room. A wardrobe in one corner, door ajar, filled with dresses both common and refined. The stale air drew her attention away. Opening the windows to let the crisp autumn air in, the light blue curtains wafted in the welcome breeze.
Next to the window was a wooden desk that had the materials she was looking for. On top of the desk was a blue vase filled with a lovely arrangement of white flowers. She pulled back the chair to take a seat and took a moment to write a quick note to Connor. A part of her hoped with this letter, he might incline to visit. If James was going to give her the cold shoulder for the whole trip, she would like the company.
Catherine sealed her letter with red wax before heading downstairs. She heard a couple of boys playing in the street below which gave her an idea. The red hair lass opened the front door to cross the street to look at the urchin boys. The boys were hitting each other in sticks to mimic a battle. They stopped and grinned at the older girl.
"Can I ask one of you gentleman a favor?" She asked in a pleasant tone. "I need to have a letter delivered to one of my friends at the docks. He is a captain of the ship. There is money in for it."
A boy with his middle teeth missing was quick to volunteer. The lad looked no more than seven. "My Pa works on the docks, I can get there faster than anyone."
"Good lad," She reached into her pocket to show the letter and gave him a few shillings. "If you come back in a timely manner, I can see about having treats ready for you and your friends. My friend is name is Connor and is on the ship called the Aquila."
The boys grinned excitement, "We will be right on it a miss!" They took off in a herd of excitement down the street towards the docks.
The boys had return sooner than expected. Thankfully, Mary had made an of cake for dessert later on tonight. Catherine had cut a few slices for the four young boys who had proudly done her errand. She couldn't help but adore the young boys, they couldn't be more than between the ages five and seven.
Catherine spent the next couple hours curled up on her bed with one of the books that Martin had given her. She was inattentive to any of the words the content itself was tedious. The book covered lessons on how to make conversations in high society. This must have been the kind of book the higher class shoved down their children's throat.
Catherine had changed out of her dress into a pair of trousers and a baggy shirt with knee-high boots. Her window was still open until she heard something right outside it. Catherine closed her book with good care when she stood up to go investigate.
Before the girl had a chance, a hooded figured jumped into the window. She hitched a breath, but let out a relief once she recognizes it was Connor. "Couldn't use the front door like a normal person?" She chuckled.
"I didn't want to draw any attention to your home."
"Not mine, technically, it belongs to a Cosette Dorian." Catherine snorted at her cover name. "Her and her fiance, Jacob Marks are in Philadelphia on business." Catherine huffed as she stretched her arms. "I am actually glad you are here. I am going stir crazy." She put her arms back down to her side. "I was thinking about going for an evening run. Maybe hit a tavern, or two for a pint?"
"That might be an idea since we should get to know the city better."
"I agree," Catherine went into her wardrobe to grab her Assassin attire that had her scarf folded on top. She wrapped it around her neck as she pulled onto her coat. "André is a pain in my arse. He kept insulting me on how I look or act."
"You sound like you need a break,"
"Agreed. I want to get better at my fighting skills out of view as well, so maybe we can find a quiet place to spar." Catherine made her way to the open. "I've improved on my free running thanks to Charles Dorian."
"Let's see then," Connor waited for her as she blew out the candles in her room.
"Go ahead and wait for me on the rooftop. I am going to let James know I am leaving and will be back later."
Connor left out the window to climb onto the rooftops. She left the room to go to James where he was in his room as well. She knocked on the door before entering. James glanced up from the journal he was writing in.
"Yes?"
One worded responses were popular with him of late. "I am going to head out for a bit, to get some fresh air with Connor."
James puffed, "of course, have a good evening." He put his attention back on his journal.
Catherine's lips formed into a shape of a frown, "while I am gone can you lighten your attitude?"
"Maybe you should watch who you kiss in public."
Catherine stiffen at his comment, did he see her kiss the native boy on the ship. "That's none of your business."
"Of course it is, try not to go very far in your exploits tonight. I hate to see you end up carrying half breeds."
His words were a cruel blow to Catherine causing her eyes stung with tears. She didn't say anything but turned to leave slam the door behind her. Catherine covered her mouth to hide the sobs that her lifelong friend caused. Some fresh air would be a good distraction for her.
Each tear was a none stop cascade. The multitude of feelings overpowers the young woman. She stepped to her room and climbed out the window. Her fingers dug into the weak points of the building to get a better grip on the brick. Her mind was distracted by the cold air as she thought about her life changes.
A part of her wished that her life would return to the morning before the Boston Massacre. It would be a blessing to have no knowledge of Templars and Assassins. Her mother alive and well while running the tavern was all Catherine asked for. She wanted her best friend back. She wanted her life back.
The Irish girl pulled herself onto the rooftop. In the dark, there was the silhouette of Connor leaning against the chimney. She was thankful for the cover of darkness to hide her puffy face and tear-stained cheeks.
" 'Ello Connor," her voice cracked, her voice betrayed her emotions.
Connor shifted his stance to glance at the girl from under his hood. "Are you alright?" he looked concerned with his dark brown eyes.
"I-I am, I just got into a fight with James. It was a harsh exchange of words." Catherine didn't want to admit it was on James end. The girl wiped her soaked cheeks, "Shall we?"
Aries cried out as he landed next to Catherine on the chimney. He hopped off when she held out her hand for the bird to land on her knuckle. The talons dug into the thick material. The leather gauntlet held the hidden blade that Dorian had presented to her. She wore a ring attached to a piece of string that worked her blade. The assassin initiate didn't pay any mind to her gauntlet, only to her winged friend.
Catherine had allowed her animal companion to go out hunting for his own food in the large city.
She gave him soft strokes, his instincts sense that his mistress was upset. The hawk reached out and nuzzled her cheek with his head. The affection brought a small smile to Catherine's face.
"I can say something to him," Connor offered, "you two are too close to be fighting."
She scratched the side of her neck when she explained. "James saw us kiss the other night."
"Oh." He made a single audible noise.
Catherine sighed, "he has had an infatuation for me since we were children. He had asked me for my hand in marriage to take care of me." Catherine sighed, "I said no,"
She still remembered the look of disappointment that James gave as she declined his offer. Catherine was serious about not wanting marriage. She had kissed Connor on the deck of the ship, so she felt unsure about the prospect of relationships. The girl could understand why James was angry with her. Catherine didn't want a relationship. She could agree the kiss was different and excitable, but she needed to stay focus on the mission.
"It gives him no right to be so hard on you." He made his way over to her as he pulled up his hood.
Catherine did the same as she tucked her scarf neatly into the coat so it is out of the way. The fabric puffed out about around her collar.
"Clear your mind," he touched her shoulder. "Your actions are your own and he has no right to judge your emotions."
His words had merit. She had to admit that.
Connor had a way of making things seem better. Out of all the chaos in her life, he was the only one to make it seem better. With him around, she was unsure if she wanted to go to Europe with Master. Dorian and little Arno. Though, it would be a huge advancement for the Colonial Brotherhood to reconnect with their European counterparts.
"Thank you," she smiled.
He leaned in close to her to touch his forehead against hers. He wanted to comfort her in any way possible. It pained the Native Assassin to know her old childhood friend gave her so much grief over a tender kiss.
"Connor," she said breaking the moment of silence. "I don't know if I am ready for such companionship."
The Assassin gave a look of understanding.
"Of course," he whispered. "Such things take time and can wait." He kept a straight face. "I don't want anything to affect our friendship or our goals."
The idea of having an infatuation with Connor seemed to be a distraction. Especially since she had only known him since March. James was acting childish about it. She could never see James as nothing more, but a brother. It broke her heart that he would have such disregard towards her feelings.
She broke away from the touch, "So, I've been trying to pronounce your real name. I was thinking while we are out on our training exercise. Maybe we can get around lessons on your cultural."
"You really are curious on it."
"Aye, I am." She smiled. "I am fascinated by your way of life."
Connor took a head start and ran past her, making a sharp leap to the next building. "If you can keep up, you can learn."
She chuckled as she chased after him into the cool autumn night. Clouds were forming about the two as they raced across the rooftops of the city. The red coats patrolling on the rooftops and on the streets below. They were quiet enough to avoid detection. Catherine and Connor spoke in a quiet tone as he explained different words in his native tongue. He even elaborated on the meaning of his true name.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton." His name rolled off her lips with her heavy Irish accent. "I like it. It's beautiful."
Connor, or Ratonhnhaké:ton, smiled at her compliment. He would have never expected a woman outside his tribe to pronounce it correctly. It stopped the native in his tracks to make sure he heard her right. Causing the woman to past the native to take a leap to the next roof. Catherine laughed at the feeling of flying as she soared across the rooftops. She only stopped to glance at Connor to grin, reminding him of a sly vixen.
"Gotta keep up!" Catherine called out to him.
The sound of crack of thunder echoed through the sky. Rain began to pour down onto the city below causing both of the teenagers to find a place to escape the rain.
"I will race you to the nearest pub."
A nearby tavern was suitable where they were sure they could find drinks and a warm meal. The crackle of thunderstruck was heard above them as Catherine touched the cobblestone. Connor was kind of enough to open the tavern door for her to enter.
"So much for sparring," She shook her coat to let the droplets fall to the oak flooring.
Connor followed in after, "we can try up till the night of your mission." He spoke in a low voice. He waved for a barmaid to bring drinks even though he found the taste foul but Catherine enjoyed it. He watched her expression as she clasped her hands together. In her pocket, she showed a map of the Shippen Estate. It was a mile outside of the city allowing complete privacy.
"If all goes to failure, James and I can slip into the woods to escape."
"Maybe have horses on the ready to escape?"
Catherine hummed but quickly covered up the map when the barmaid came with the drinks. She smiled at the woman until she returned to her other patrons.
"That will be a brilliant idea. Can you scout the surrounding area in the woods then report back?"
"I can do that," he took the map from her. "I can mark where I can leave them on the night of the heist."
"I will need you to wait at the Aquila, so we can leave at a moments notice."
Connor nodded in agreement as he took a sip of brown liquid in his pint. He folded it gently placing it his pocket for safe keeping.
Shay stepped into his quarters, soaked to the bone with his ponytail stuck to the back of his neck. Haytham glanced up from Shay's desk to see the captain dripping.
"Good lord, man."
"I know, the storm came out of nowhere." He took off his coat to throw onto a chair to dry.
His clothes were surprisingly dry for the weather, it must have been his thick coat. Shay sighed as he slumped onto his bed against the wall. The rain pounding against the window was soothing. The sound brought back memories of his wife, child and their little apartment. He could remember Catherine curled up in his lap as he read her a book during a rough storm outside. She giggled whenever he made a funny voice for a different character.
The nostalgia caused the old captain to reach under his bed, he grabbed a dark wooden box to rummage through it. They were personal letters from his daughter and wife. He reached to the very first one that Rose had smuggled to Shay thanks to Colonel George Monroe. He had a personal hand-delivered the letter from Rose and told him the location of his wife and child.
The letter was a small novel of Rose's life since Shay's 'death'. The grieving wife was overcome with joy when she heard her husband was still alive. She detailed the moments of her life after he left. It broke his heart to know that Rose could hardly function without him. She spent days in bed until Liam had sent her from the homestead to Martha's vineyard. Robert Faulkner had taken the grieving widow to be cared after by an innkeeper. On the small island in the tiny village on a stormy night, much like this, Catherine was brought into the world.
A mermaid birth is what the midwives called the child's journey into the world. Catherine was born in the sac that held her when she was in the womb. Such a unique birth was considered a lucky sign for any sailor. Along with the letter was a small black bag with the contains of the mermaid's purse.
Shay found it silly to have such an item, but this only was the only thing that connected Shay to Catherine's birth.
Haytham broke his Shay's thoughts. "You seem enthralled those letters, they must be important."
"It's from Rose."
Haytham felt guilt as he saw Shay's eyes. "What is the content of the letter?" He had to stop himself from apologizing to the man.
"Catherine's birth." He smiled, "She was born on a night like this in something known as a mermaid's purse."
"What is that?" Haytham inquired, the Grandmaster was unfamiliar with the lore behind uncommon birth.
"It's where the child is born in the sac of the womb. Once the sac is dried out and packed in a little bag. Suppose to prevent a sailors death from drowning." Shay fiddle with a small bag.
"I thought you didn't believe in luck." He glanced at the item in his hand.
Shay chuckled, "Well, Rose felt better if I carried it around." He played with the little bag "I see it as a little piece of Catherine would always be with me. I make my own luck, Haytham."
Haytham smiled to see Shay be so happy, but it worried him for what awaited in Philadelphia. She might listen to her father who loved her, but he hoped that she wasn't poisoned by the Assassins ideology.