AN: I've been wrestling with the idea of genderflipping the whole damn cast, but decided against it.
Idk where the journal entries are coming from. -----------------------------------------
18th of February 1756
Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like, had Ziio and I stayed together. It’s been over eight months and yet, he still plagues my mind. Even as I try to immerse myself in the workings of my Order, at times, his face still registers in my memory and distracts me from my task at hand. Had we thrown our differences and ultimately, our responsibilities, to the side, how would that have panned out? Would we have gotten married? Settled down and raised a family together in his village or in the city? Could we have truly worked together as lovers or was our affair ill-fated from its origins?
…It does me no good to dwell on what could have been. --------- She'd never told him about the child.
Around the time their relationship ended, he'd learned of her true allegiances in the world; of her being a Templar. He'd found out what she’d been after while they were working together and decided that, for the benefit of his people, it was best that they split ways. Reluctantly, she’d agreed with him and he pulled her into his arms for one last time to kiss her senseless. He promised to never contact her again afterwards, to which she only nodded, and then they broke off into their separate ways on their separate paths. Her heart was sad to see him go but her dedication to the Templar Order triumphed over all.
At the time she herself hadn't known that she was with child, for she didn't suffer from the sickness her mother had told her pregnant women got when she was younger. It came as a surprise when she started noticing her clothing getting tighter with every passing day. It was Charles who suggested she go see a physician one day after she'd asked him to make her a peculiar sandwich of fish, jam, and butter.
The most surprising thing was how well the rest of her group took the news. Johnson had congratulated her with a smile, Pitcairn had jokingly begun to come up with war strategy training schedules for the unborn tyke, Hickey smirked and spoke something perverted to her, and Church had offered to be her physician throughout the pregnancy. Charles had taken it the hardest of the bunch. Once Heather told him who the father was, the ugliest look of disgust flashed across his face before giving way to a softer expression. That day, he'd committed himself to doting on her every want and need, and she found herself giving in to him.
No matter how much Charles hated it, Heather would never forget the time she spent with Ziio. The life she now carried inside her would be a permanent reminder of her relationship with him. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It had been over 8 months since she ended her relationship with Ziio. She rubbed her bulging belly, her womb swollen with the weight of a child. As the days dragged on, she began to grow tired of the weight in her lower abdomen and wished for the child to just come out already. It seemed her child was just as anxious as she was, for it moved and shifted around inside its warm and watery home whenever it could. It was a strange sensation to Heather, to feel something moving around inside her innards but the shock was starting to wear off and she wanted the damn thing out. None of her regular clothes could fit her anymore so she'd taken to wearing loose fitting blouses and trousers. Her breasts were sore and hurting, occasionally leaking what seemed to be milk, and her ankles were swollen. She acquired cravings of strange food combinations over the course of her pregnancy that she would have never even thought of beforehand.
A door creaking open brought Heather back to the present. "Madam Kenway?"
It was her faithful pupil. "Yes Charles?"
He'd walked into the room, moving closer to the desk she was seated at. "I was just coming to check up on you. We hadn't heard anything from you all morning."
She sat back in her chair and rubbed soothing circles over her bloated belly. The child was becoming restless and kicking at her stomach again. "I am fine Charles, although I can't say the same for the child inside me."
A worried expression furrowed Charles' brow. "Is something wrong? Shall I call your doctor to check?"
"No, it is just being active, is all." She moved her hand towards the spot where the child had shifted and elbowed her in the ribs.
Charles eyed her warily, not sure whether to believe her or not. "Are you sure? I can call him or your other doctor if you so wish."
"I assure you I am fine Charles. No need to worry yourself over the movement of a child within his mother's womb."
"If you say so, Madam Kenway." He sounded like he didn't believe her. "Is there anything you need?"
She sat forward in her chair, the motion rocking the child inside her. Now that she thought about it, she was hungry, her light breakfast of oats and biscuits wearing off from earlier in the day. “Yes there is, actually. Do you mind fetching me more of those oats that we were served for breakfast this morning? I am famished.”
Charles nodded and headed towards the door, looking back over his shoulder at her. “Would you like anything in it?”
“A few bits of fish, if there is any.”
"Yes Madam Kenway." He bowed his head and left, closing the door behind him. Her weird cravings were no longer having any effect on him. After she made sure he left, Heather turned around in her seat, facing her desk. She pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook from a drawer and flipped through the pages. Her journal; the one place where she could collect her thoughts in peace besides her head. She picked up a fresh quill and began to write.
25th of February, 1756
Ziio’s child grows strong within me. With each passing day, the joyous burden of motherhood grows ever so close. It is a shame that my child shall never know its father, as I knew my own. I believe Ziio and I could have raised a nice family, had we the chance.
There he is again, ruining my thoughts…
I have always wanted children but I do not think myself yet ready to fulfill the title of ‘mother’. There is so much work to be done in the name of the Order, so many things to do that I believe I would not have time to properly give my child the attention it deserves. I only want to be best mother I can, how my mother was with me. Oh my child, my little surprise, you are the right thing thrown at me at the wrong time.
Life is funny that way, I suppose.
After she finished writing, she placed her quill on the desk and read over her words. As she read, she sat back in her chair and started massaging her breasts. They'd started leaking again, leaving wet spots on the front of her shirt. She moved her hands under her shirt to her nipples, since that was the part that was hurting the most, and rubbed them tenderly. It helped.
A knock came from the door and Heather looked up, only to see Charles poking his head inside. He cocked an eyebrow at her but she just answered with a curt, "Sore breasts." and anything he had to say died on his tongue.
He looked away shyly, "I was coming to get you for a meeting with the others, Madam Kenway. Your food is out here as well."
Heather nodded and stood up, following him out of the room. It was early evening on a cold February day in the Green Dragon, and the place was as lively as it always was. A few of the tavern’s regulars, a group of four burly dockworkers, were at their usual table by the front door, having drinks over a friendly game of checkers. On the side of the room opposite of the dockworkers, a checkers game between two friends was getting out of hand. At the bar, a merchant was chatting quietly with his mistress about their next rendezvous. The small band in front played a catchy tune that made a few of the drunken men brave enough to stand in the middle of the room and do a jig, to which their friends whooped and hollered and egged them on. Catherine shook her head from behind the bar and continued filling orders.
Charles led Heather to the secluded meeting space in the tavern that they always used. Johnson, Pitcairn, and Hickey were all seated in their usual spots; the only one missing was Church.
"Where is Benjamin? Surely he knew we were meeting tonight?" She said, as Charles pulled out her chair for her at the head of the table. She thanked him as he walked to his own seat.
Pitcairn was the first to reply. "He said he needed to check up on something back at his old home."
Heather nodded. "Then we'll begin without him, for the time being. Start us off, William." Her stomach growled, so she started on her bowl of oats and fish chunks.
The businessman cleared his throat. "Ever since we rescued those captives, we've been garnering more attention from the natives these past few months. I've been meeting with the Iroquois Nation leaders about wanting to buy their land from them."
"And what do they say to that?" Charles asked.
"They're completely against the idea."
"Of course they are." Heather added. "They take us as loyal to the crown, that to which they are surely mistaken."
There was a strange look on William's face that Heather couldn't identify, "Then what do you suppose we do, madam?"
The child had begun to shift and roll in her womb, the motions disrupting her thoughts. She'd placed a hand on her swollen stomach to quell the movement, and felt a small foot push against her flesh. “In order to bring peace and order upon this land, we need the support of the people. We need to gain the trust of the tribes before we offer to buy any of their land."
"Wot about that Iri-Nation, or wotevah it's called." Hickey asked, a feather rolled between his hands. "Wot are we gonna do 'bout them?" "They shall be consulted in due time, but for now we shall focus on the different tribes. If we gain the favor of the individual tribes, the collective board of nation representatives will have no choice but to hear us out."
"Sidestepping the Nation? That’ll give us more trouble than we want." Pitcairn added, poking at something on the table.
“Not if William heads the operation isn’t that right?” She looked to Johnson, who nodded in her direction. “As long as we don’t give them a reason to fight us, they won’t.”
"Wot ya keep doin' that for?" Hickey asked, breaking the short silence that had fallen over them. He pointed the feather at Heather's belly and the other men’s gazes followed.
"My child has become very active as of late," she changed her speed so that she was rubbing her whole belly, "and it is a very unpleasant feeling."
"You’ve grown tremendously over these past few months," Johnson remarked, "the child must be a heavy one."
Thomas scoffed and twirled the feather lightly, dusting it over the tabletop. "Ain't nofin heavy 'bout no baby."
Heather wanted to reach over the table and smack Thomas in his face. He just didn't know. "Oh you'd be surprised at how something so small could weigh so much. I’m sure you’d be complaining if you had to carry around and sustain a small being within your innards for nine months, but since you are anatomically incapable of doing so, I'll take your words concerning the matter with a grain of salt." She finished her bowl and pushed it away, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief.
Baby Love Child [2/?]
Idk where the journal entries are coming from.
-----------------------------------------
18th of February 1756
Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like, had Ziio and I stayed together. It’s been over eight months and yet, he still plagues my mind. Even as I try to immerse myself in the workings of my Order, at times, his face still registers in my memory and distracts me from my task at hand. Had we thrown our differences and ultimately, our responsibilities, to the side, how would that have panned out? Would we have gotten married? Settled down and raised a family together in his village or in the city? Could we have truly worked together as lovers or was our affair ill-fated from its origins?
…It does me no good to dwell on what could have been.
---------
She'd never told him about the child.
Around the time their relationship ended, he'd learned of her true allegiances in the world; of her being a Templar. He'd found out what she’d been after while they were working together and decided that, for the benefit of his people, it was best that they split ways. Reluctantly, she’d agreed with him and he pulled her into his arms for one last time to kiss her senseless. He promised to never contact her again afterwards, to which she only nodded, and then they broke off into their separate ways on their separate paths. Her heart was sad to see him go but her dedication to the Templar Order triumphed over all.
At the time she herself hadn't known that she was with child, for she didn't suffer from the sickness her mother had told her pregnant women got when she was younger. It came as a surprise when she started noticing her clothing getting tighter with every passing day. It was Charles who suggested she go see a physician one day after she'd asked him to make her a peculiar sandwich of fish, jam, and butter.
The most surprising thing was how well the rest of her group took the news. Johnson had congratulated her with a smile, Pitcairn had jokingly begun to come up with war strategy training schedules for the unborn tyke, Hickey smirked and spoke something perverted to her, and Church had offered to be her physician throughout the pregnancy. Charles had taken it the hardest of the bunch. Once Heather told him who the father was, the ugliest look of disgust flashed across his face before giving way to a softer expression. That day, he'd committed himself to doting on her every want and need, and she found herself giving in to him.
No matter how much Charles hated it, Heather would never forget the time she spent with Ziio. The life she now carried inside her would be a permanent reminder of her relationship with him.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been over 8 months since she ended her relationship with Ziio. She rubbed her bulging belly, her womb swollen with the weight of a child. As the days dragged on, she began to grow tired of the weight in her lower abdomen and wished for the child to just come out already. It seemed her child was just as anxious as she was, for it moved and shifted around inside its warm and watery home whenever it could. It was a strange sensation to Heather, to feel something moving around inside her innards but the shock was starting to wear off and she wanted the damn thing out. None of her regular clothes could fit her anymore so she'd taken to wearing loose fitting blouses and trousers. Her breasts were sore and hurting, occasionally leaking what seemed to be milk, and her ankles were swollen. She acquired cravings of strange food combinations over the course of her pregnancy that she would have never even thought of beforehand.
A door creaking open brought Heather back to the present. "Madam Kenway?"
It was her faithful pupil. "Yes Charles?"
He'd walked into the room, moving closer to the desk she was seated at. "I was just coming to check up on you. We hadn't heard anything from you all morning."
She sat back in her chair and rubbed soothing circles over her bloated belly. The child was becoming restless and kicking at her stomach again. "I am fine Charles, although I can't say the same for the child inside me."
A worried expression furrowed Charles' brow. "Is something wrong? Shall I call your doctor to check?"
"No, it is just being active, is all." She moved her hand towards the spot where the child had shifted and elbowed her in the ribs.
Charles eyed her warily, not sure whether to believe her or not. "Are you sure? I can call him or your other doctor if you so wish."
"I assure you I am fine Charles. No need to worry yourself over the movement of a child within his mother's womb."
"If you say so, Madam Kenway." He sounded like he didn't believe her. "Is there anything you need?"
She sat forward in her chair, the motion rocking the child inside her. Now that she thought about it, she was hungry, her light breakfast of oats and biscuits wearing off from earlier in the day. “Yes there is, actually. Do you mind fetching me more of those oats that we were served for breakfast this morning? I am famished.”
Charles nodded and headed towards the door, looking back over his shoulder at her. “Would you like anything in it?”
“A few bits of fish, if there is any.”
"Yes Madam Kenway." He bowed his head and left, closing the door behind him. Her weird cravings were no longer having any effect on him.
After she made sure he left, Heather turned around in her seat, facing her desk. She pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook from a drawer and flipped through the pages. Her journal; the one place where she could collect her thoughts in peace besides her head. She picked up a fresh quill and began to write.
25th of February, 1756
Ziio’s child grows strong within me.
With each passing day, the joyous burden of motherhood grows ever so close. It is a shame that my child shall never know its father, as I knew my own. I believe Ziio and I could have raised a nice family, had we the chance.
There he is again, ruining my thoughts…
I have always wanted children but I do not think myself yet ready to fulfill the title of ‘mother’. There is so much work to be done in the name of the Order, so many things to do that I believe I would not have time to properly give my child the attention it deserves. I only want to be best mother I can, how my mother was with me. Oh my child, my little surprise, you are the right thing thrown at me at the wrong time.
Life is funny that way, I suppose.
After she finished writing, she placed her quill on the desk and read over her words. As she read, she sat back in her chair and started massaging her breasts. They'd started leaking again, leaving wet spots on the front of her shirt. She moved her hands under her shirt to her nipples, since that was the part that was hurting the most, and rubbed them tenderly. It helped.
A knock came from the door and Heather looked up, only to see Charles poking his head inside. He cocked an eyebrow at her but she just answered with a curt, "Sore breasts." and anything he had to say died on his tongue.
He looked away shyly, "I was coming to get you for a meeting with the others, Madam Kenway. Your food is out here as well."
Heather nodded and stood up, following him out of the room. It was early evening on a cold February day in the Green Dragon, and the place was as lively as it always was. A few of the tavern’s regulars, a group of four burly dockworkers, were at their usual table by the front door, having drinks over a friendly game of checkers. On the side of the room opposite of the dockworkers, a checkers game between two friends was getting out of hand. At the bar, a merchant was chatting quietly with his mistress about their next rendezvous. The small band in front played a catchy tune that made a few of the drunken men brave enough to stand in the middle of the room and do a jig, to which their friends whooped and hollered and egged them on. Catherine shook her head from behind the bar and continued filling orders.
Charles led Heather to the secluded meeting space in the tavern that they always used. Johnson, Pitcairn, and Hickey were all seated in their usual spots; the only one missing was Church.
"Where is Benjamin? Surely he knew we were meeting tonight?" She said, as Charles pulled out her chair for her at the head of the table. She thanked him as he walked to his own seat.
Pitcairn was the first to reply. "He said he needed to check up on something back at his old home."
Heather nodded. "Then we'll begin without him, for the time being. Start us off, William." Her stomach growled, so she started on her bowl of oats and fish chunks.
The businessman cleared his throat. "Ever since we rescued those captives, we've been garnering more attention from the natives these past few months. I've been meeting with the Iroquois Nation leaders about wanting to buy their land from them."
"And what do they say to that?" Charles asked.
"They're completely against the idea."
"Of course they are." Heather added. "They take us as loyal to the crown, that to which they are surely mistaken."
There was a strange look on William's face that Heather couldn't identify, "Then what do you suppose we do, madam?"
The child had begun to shift and roll in her womb, the motions disrupting her thoughts. She'd placed a hand on her swollen stomach to quell the movement, and felt a small foot push against her flesh. “In order to bring peace and order upon this land, we need the support of the people. We need to gain the trust of the tribes before we offer to buy any of their land."
"Wot about that Iri-Nation, or wotevah it's called." Hickey asked, a feather rolled between his hands. "Wot are we gonna do 'bout them?"
"They shall be consulted in due time, but for now we shall focus on the different tribes. If we gain the favor of the individual tribes, the collective board of nation representatives will have no choice but to hear us out."
"Sidestepping the Nation? That’ll give us more trouble than we want." Pitcairn added, poking at something on the table.
“Not if William heads the operation isn’t that right?” She looked to Johnson, who nodded in her direction. “As long as we don’t give them a reason to fight us, they won’t.”
"Wot ya keep doin' that for?" Hickey asked, breaking the short silence that had fallen over them. He pointed the feather at Heather's belly and the other men’s gazes followed.
"My child has become very active as of late," she changed her speed so that she was rubbing her whole belly, "and it is a very unpleasant feeling."
"You’ve grown tremendously over these past few months," Johnson remarked, "the child must be a heavy one."
Thomas scoffed and twirled the feather lightly, dusting it over the tabletop. "Ain't nofin heavy 'bout no baby."
Heather wanted to reach over the table and smack Thomas in his face. He just didn't know. "Oh you'd be surprised at how something so small could weigh so much. I’m sure you’d be complaining if you had to carry around and sustain a small being within your innards for nine months, but since you are anatomically incapable of doing so, I'll take your words concerning the matter with a grain of salt." She finished her bowl and pushed it away, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief.
Hickey snorted but said nothing else.