Retribution (An Assassin's Creed III story)

Seventeen: To Have and to Hold

Davenport Homestead, 1775

Connor

Three months have passed since the battle at Bunker Hill, where Naomi and I crossed a battlefield to assassinate John Pitcairn. Whether we succeeded by chance or skill, I do not know. Now Pitcairn is dead, along with the threat that he poses to the colonists. They begin their march towards freedom in earnest, with George Washington as their lead. Yet with the passing of one peril rises another, for when Pitcairn's body lay cold and unmoving beneath my blade, I discovered on him a letter, detailing plans to kill none other than Commander Washington. Thomas Hickey is mentioned by name. If Washington falls, so will the colonists, and all my work will have been for nothing. So I do what I must, and try to find Hickey, or at least evidence of his twisted schemes. My task is straightforward, but not simple. So far I've only come up with dead ends and cold leads, while Achilles' insistence that I keep this information from Washington does little to help.

Naomi has been working with me to thwart Hickey, though rarely beside me. Her trips to Boston and New York are frequent, and her work there invaluable. More recruits are persuaded to join our Brotherhood each day, thanks to her dedication in saving civilians from the Loyalists' clutches. I follow her whenever I can, though my work in coordinating the Assassins from the Homestead keeps us separated most of the time.

The Homestead residents also give me tasks that keep me on my feet. From lending aid in courting women to defending our smithy against Redcoat troops, these opportunities are interesting to say the least. They are windows for me to glimpse into other walks of life, and a privilege to be part of them. Naomi is also greatly favored amongst the townspeople. She can often be found in Doctor White's cabin, assisting the man with his patients. Clearly, the bloodshed of war kindled in her a desire to help the injured.

She bends over a boy now, gently pressing a small bandage to his forearm. The boy's face is red and splotchy, but his eyes are free of tears. "Now, remember not to scratch or peel at the scab," she tells him, touching a finger to his nose. "Off you go, then."

"Ah, Connor!" Doctor White greets. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"No doubt he's looking for someone to beat his arse in a duel," Naomi smirks. She isn't wrong, though. Our unfruitful search for Hickey makes me restless, and I find that a good fight helps to calm the mind. Naomi also happens to be the only difficult opponent I know.

"Proud words from the one who has lost twice in a row," I scoff.

"Three times' the charm, they say."

"Ah, away with you two," Doctor White chuckles. "Just don't break any bones!"

"I am not the one you should be worried about," I tell the doctor before we leave.

The words earn me an elbow in the ribs. "Rebecca reports from New York," Naomi says, striding beside me. "News of counterfeit money is spreading like wildfire."

"Does she know who is responsible?"

"The fraud is a whole network. Killing one man will not end the problem."

I was about to reply when a hand grabs my shoulder out of nowhere. Reflex makes me flip the attacker over, landing him hard on the ground. To my surprise—and slight humiliation, the 'attacker' is a friendly face. "Norris!"

"My friend!" he exclaims, his eyes widening with excitement. Never has a man been so happy to have himself thrown to the ground. "She said yes!"

I release my grip on him at that. "Myriam?"

"We are getting married!"

"That's wonderful!" Naomi cries, already helping him up. I feel a smile tugging on my own lips, too.

"I told you not to touch him, Norris," Myriam says, sidling up to her fiance.

"Is it true?" I ask her.

"Yes!"

We share a round of laughter at that. Naomi is asking about the date when Father Timothy approaches me. "Now that you've been told, might I have a word? There is much to do!"

"Of course!" I reply, glancing back at Naomi before leaving with the Father. "What would you have me do?"

"Will you accompany me to the inn? I'll tell you on the way..."

*

The Wedding, One Week Later

"Ten pounds says Godfrey there'll drop after his third mug."

"I am not betting on that," I say, eyeing the drunk man who wobbles unsteadily on his feet. "Everyone knows he cannot hold his liquor."

Naomi pouts beside me. "You're no fun."

"Naomi, dear!" Corrine, the innkeeper, booms happily. "Come and have a whirl!"

The two join hands immediately and start twirling to the music, along with many others who are dancing. I can't help but smile, a mixture of pride and joy blooming in my heart. Our once non-existent community has flourished into the tight-knit family we have today. Even when the Templars seem to prosper and my hunt comes to a standstill, these people are a firm reminder that my efforts have not been in vain. Naomi and I have built a safe place for these people, and we will keep it so. It is a thought that fills me with peace.

"Connor!" she calls to me now, extending a hand. I smile and shake my head, refusing the dance. Big Dave whirls her away before she can protest.

I watch Naomi spinning around on quick heels, looking both exuberant and silly at the same time. Her hair is a mess by the time she approaches me, but she somehow still looks elegant in the dress Ellen made her. "Opportunities to dance don't come by every day," she prods.

My protest is weak, and I know it. "I will make a fool of myself."

"No, you won't," she counters, pulling me away from the wall. "You can only do that when the music is fast. When it's slow, you just sway and no one will laugh at you."

She leans close to me, her palms flat on my shoulder blades. Our steps are slow and gentle, our feet never crossing paths with the natural ease that comes with years of familiarity. The rhythm is calming, chasing away all thoughts of war and Templars. Nothing matters except for her warmth and touch. I never knew a moment like this was possible for someone like me.

She pulls away slightly after a while, turning her grey eyes on me. "Did you really have to bring a pistol to a wedding banquet?"

I shrug, plucking the weapon from her grasp and tossing it aside. "One can never be too careful."

Her body vibrates with laughter in my arms, warming every part of my heart. We remain that way for a long time, with my cheek on her head and her face in my chest, until the chatter dies down and the stars are diamonds in the sky.