Wow, I think this is going to end up my longest story yet…
In Pursuit of Happiness
Chapter 32 - Woman in White
Charles’s heart thudded painfully against his chest, and he reached out a hand to touch those white sleeves. He froze for a moment when, instead of fabric, his hands met only with air.
Frantically, he began grasping at the figure, desperate to feel something, to touch something.
Nothing.
All his efforts were for naught, and his hand soon dropped in defeat.
“Connor,” he whispered, staring at that beloved form standing so close to him, so still.
Was this how it was to be? Was this how it was always to be?
“You cannot expect otherwise, I am sure,” came a voice from behind him.
Charles whirled around, hand immediately going to his belt for his pistol before he realized that he was dressed in only the nightshirt he had worn since his injury. Not that a pistol would have been much help against the powerful figure that stood before him anyways.
The pale woman with long dark hair smiled humorlessly at him. Her eyes were hooded and uncaring, and Charles shuddered at the disdain in her icy golden eyes.
Strange how such eyes so similar to his wife’s could look so menacing on this phantom of the past.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Charles hedged, edging away from that terrifying form.
The woman merely smiled again.
Charles opened his mouth to ask what she meant by appearing to him now when she had not before when she suddenly vanished. He blinked instead, not sure what had happened.
“You are such a curious man, so domineering and so forceful and yet with so much potential that you would squander away.”
The voice came from behind him, and Charles spun back around again. He nearly gasped at the sight of the flowing white dress right next to him. If he had taken a single step backward, he would have walked right into the woman.
“Do you always perform such theatrics?” he asked, trying frantically to calm his beating heart.
She tilted her head in a manner that should have been endearing. It would have been, had she not that that empty expression on her face that made her wholly alien and unrecognizable.
She considered him for a moment.
“I do like that you are not the meek fools that most of humanity is.”
It was a backhanded compliment, but Charles could only shudder at the coldness in her eyes as she said it. It was clear that she did not consider him worthy of consideration.
And he would have liked nothing better than to escape her presence had it not occurred to him that there were questions he wanted answered. Questions that he could now take the opportunity to ask.
“No, I do not.”
“Pardon?” Charles looked around, expecting to see another phantom like her appear.
He could see nothing but the phantom and that painfully beloved form still standing only a little ways away.
“You wished to know if I work against your Order and favor those of my blood. I do not.”
Charles blinked.
“You read my mind?”
The phantom looked at him with boredom.
“I forget that you humans can be so limited.”
She disappeared again, and Charles jumped at the cool touch on his hand.
“Come.”
And the world suddenly rushed at Charles.
He instinctively grabbed the woman’s hand, nails digging into the soft flesh as they traveled quickly.
She did not even flinch.
“You cannot hurt me. I am beyond your comprehension.”
Charles frowned at that. It was unnerving speaking with someone capable of reading one’s mind.
“It would have been better to mix my line with someone more worthy, but you have the ability to become an apt candidate.”
There it was again. Those troubling mentions of blood and line.
And Charles really did not want to draw that connection, to complete the inference, but it was difficult not to.
“Of course. Eyes like these are not natural to your people. Only those of my blood have these abilities.”
That was really what Charles had been hoping she would not say. He shuddered at the thought of this creature sharing blood with his mentor and his wife.
“There would be no reason for my interest otherwise, and you would not have the insight to correct your behavior.”
Charles turned to look at her, trying his best to ignore the world whirling away from them.
“So you are interest in helping Connor because of his blood?” he asked.
“No.”
She said it so casually, in such a disinterested manner.
Charles despised her.
“You are not the first and not close to the most powerful.”
He would love to meet the most powerful then.
Those gold eyes continued staring forward, not even looking at him.
“You would not. She would do anything to keep me from life, even if it means sacrificing most of your people to disaster.”
Charles blinked again. Was she suggesting...?
“Minerva does not care for me. And she would condemn most of humanity to death to defeat me. The only way to stop her is the son of my line.”
Connor...?
“No, not he. But one who will be born from the son he brings into this world.”
So that was why she was interested in Connor. And likely why she brought him back to the past to change things.
It did not explain why she was here now.
Her face contorted, and Charles was taken aback to see the first sign of real emotion on her face.
“You are a fool who would destroy my millennia of hard work.”
What...?
The hand in his abruptly jerked itself away, and Charles found himself falling.
He looked around wildly, searching for something to grasp, for something to grab onto. Anything to stop his fall.
Nothing.
“Of course there is nothing. Why do you think you deserve something?”
Charles jerked his head up, and there was the woman, falling calmly above him.
“You are a ridiculous Alpha, unable to learn from your mistakes. Tell me, do you take pleasure in destroying my descendant’s ability to trust and have a family?”
Charles snarled. He had not done that intentionally. He had never meant to hurt his wife.
The woman vanished again.
“You do enjoy lying to yourself,” the voice came from below him. Charles’s eyes widened in shock to see her directly below him.
“I do not,” he replied back. “I love him—“
“How can you?”
Charles’s eyes went wide to see Master Kenway smile up at him.
He gulped as his mentor sensuously pressed himself against Charles’s still falling body.
“You do not know him, Charles. You had him for less than a single year before he killed himself. You knew nothing of the leader he was, the mother he ought to have been, the lover he could have been. You knew nothing of any of his abilities besides his ability to kill.”
Charles flushed.
It hurt that this phantom would repeat MasterKenway’s words to him using Master Kenway’s face and body. It hurt that his weakness for his mentor was so exposed.
With effort, Charles pushed the likeness of his mentor away from him. “No, you’re wrong. I knew the loyal Assassin he was. I knew the fighter he was. I knew—“
The phantom who wore Master Kenway’s form disappeared. Charles looked around wildly. He needed to watch out for what would appear next.
“So paranoid.”
Charles looked up again, eyes widening at the sight of those warm amber-brown eyes.
The world blinked, and Charles was suddenly in his own home. In...
Connor’s room.
As he was gawking at the sight of that familiar room that he had not thought to see again, Connor walked right past him.
Charles grew cold to see the knife in his hands.
“Don’t,” he began, taking a single step forward.
The knife pointed right at him, and he stopped.
“Did you know,” his wife whispered, “that saving George’s life was only one of the reasons I killed myself?”
He drew back the knife and stared at it in consideration.
“I really couldn’t bear it anymore. Being your wife, feeling your odious touch upon my body...”
Charles lunged for the knife.
He ran right through that beloved form and crashed into the bed behind him.
“So crass,” that beloved voice came from behind him. “Is that the only thing on your mind? Rutting?”
Charles flushed and turned himself around with difficulty, the sheets entangling him as he struggled to rise.
“You really just want me to be a doll for you, don’t you? Just a living, breathing doll that you can fuck whenever you choose. Just something to breed children for you and your Order and that can never go against you.”
No. No that wasn’t...
Charles flailed as he tried to rid himself of those blasted sheets. How were they so restrictive?
“My, you lie to yourself so much, that you even come to believe it now. Such a stupid Alpha.”
Charles snarled.
This wasn’t Connor. This wasn’t the beautiful young man that wanted to be able to trust him. This wasn’t the mother of his child. This was...
“Of course it is.” And the sheets suddenly fell off of him.
Freed at last, Charles stood and whirled around to face his tormentor.
“Tormentor? I would hardly call myself that,” said the woman in white. Her smile, Charles was disgusted to see, was the same blank, slightly condescending look she had used with him this entire time.
“I simply remind you of the truth.”
“What truth?” Charles spat.
She shook her head sadly.
“The truth you refuse to see. The truth you would sooner close your eyes on than look at.”
No, the woman lied. He was not so cowardly as to refuse to view the truth. He was—
“Obstinate. Blind. Jealous.”
The first and the last he would give her, but the second was ridiculous.
“It cannot continue on like this. I have invested too much into my plan, into my descendants, for something like this to come to pass.”
“So you can defeat Minerva?” Charles growled at her.
She laughed.
“Oh no. Both Minerva and I are the progenitors of the one who needs to make the decision. We both need him alive and well. It is what decision he makes that will ultimately affect me.”
Charles clenched his teeth in frustration.
To think of this woman should play around with the lives of his and Connor’s descendants as she was doing with him...It was unthinkable.
“Oh no,” she corrected. “It need not be your descendant at all. I had originally thought you the best choice, but it seems that I may have made a mistake.”
Charles grew cold. She couldn’t be suggesting what he thought she was.
“I am. You squandered your chance, even with my help, and I see no reason to reward you now. I will need to find someone else to help bring about the future.”
“You called me here to—“
“—warn you to leave my descendant be. Return the amulet to those of my blood. It is not for you. He is not for you.” . “No.”
In Pursuit of Happiness 32
In Pursuit of Happiness
Chapter 32 - Woman in White
Charles’s heart thudded painfully against his chest, and he reached out a hand to touch those white sleeves. He froze for a moment when, instead of fabric, his hands met only with air.
Frantically, he began grasping at the figure, desperate to feel something, to touch something.
Nothing.
All his efforts were for naught, and his hand soon dropped in defeat.
“Connor,” he whispered, staring at that beloved form standing so close to him, so still.
Was this how it was to be? Was this how it was always to be?
“You cannot expect otherwise, I am sure,” came a voice from behind him.
Charles whirled around, hand immediately going to his belt for his pistol before he realized that he was dressed in only the nightshirt he had worn since his injury. Not that a pistol would have been much help against the powerful figure that stood before him anyways.
The pale woman with long dark hair smiled humorlessly at him. Her eyes were hooded and uncaring, and Charles shuddered at the disdain in her icy golden eyes.
Strange how such eyes so similar to his wife’s could look so menacing on this phantom of the past.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Charles hedged, edging away from that terrifying form.
The woman merely smiled again.
Charles opened his mouth to ask what she meant by appearing to him now when she had not before when she suddenly vanished. He blinked instead, not sure what had happened.
“You are such a curious man, so domineering and so forceful and yet with so much potential that you would squander away.”
The voice came from behind him, and Charles spun back around again. He nearly gasped at the sight of the flowing white dress right next to him. If he had taken a single step backward, he would have walked right into the woman.
“Do you always perform such theatrics?” he asked, trying frantically to calm his beating heart.
She tilted her head in a manner that should have been endearing. It would have been, had she not that that empty expression on her face that made her wholly alien and unrecognizable.
She considered him for a moment.
“I do like that you are not the meek fools that most of humanity is.”
It was a backhanded compliment, but Charles could only shudder at the coldness in her eyes as she said it. It was clear that she did not consider him worthy of consideration.
And he would have liked nothing better than to escape her presence had it not occurred to him that there were questions he wanted answered. Questions that he could now take the opportunity to ask.
“No, I do not.”
“Pardon?” Charles looked around, expecting to see another phantom like her appear.
He could see nothing but the phantom and that painfully beloved form still standing only a little ways away.
“You wished to know if I work against your Order and favor those of my blood. I do not.”
Charles blinked.
“You read my mind?”
The phantom looked at him with boredom.
“I forget that you humans can be so limited.”
She disappeared again, and Charles jumped at the cool touch on his hand.
“Come.”
And the world suddenly rushed at Charles.
He instinctively grabbed the woman’s hand, nails digging into the soft flesh as they traveled quickly.
She did not even flinch.
“You cannot hurt me. I am beyond your comprehension.”
Charles frowned at that. It was unnerving speaking with someone capable of reading one’s mind.
“It would have been better to mix my line with someone more worthy, but you have the ability to become an apt candidate.”
There it was again. Those troubling mentions of blood and line.
And Charles really did not want to draw that connection, to complete the inference, but it was difficult not to.
“Of course. Eyes like these are not natural to your people. Only those of my blood have these abilities.”
That was really what Charles had been hoping she would not say. He shuddered at the thought of this creature sharing blood with his mentor and his wife.
“There would be no reason for my interest otherwise, and you would not have the insight to correct your behavior.”
Charles turned to look at her, trying his best to ignore the world whirling away from them.
“So you are interest in helping Connor because of his blood?” he asked.
“No.”
She said it so casually, in such a disinterested manner.
Charles despised her.
“You are not the first and not close to the most powerful.”
He would love to meet the most powerful then.
Those gold eyes continued staring forward, not even looking at him.
“You would not. She would do anything to keep me from life, even if it means sacrificing most of your people to disaster.”
Charles blinked again. Was she suggesting...?
“Minerva does not care for me. And she would condemn most of humanity to death to defeat me. The only way to stop her is the son of my line.”
Connor...?
“No, not he. But one who will be born from the son he brings into this world.”
So that was why she was interested in Connor. And likely why she brought him back to the past to change things.
It did not explain why she was here now.
Her face contorted, and Charles was taken aback to see the first sign of real emotion on her face.
“You are a fool who would destroy my millennia of hard work.”
What...?
The hand in his abruptly jerked itself away, and Charles found himself falling.
He looked around wildly, searching for something to grasp, for something to grab onto. Anything to stop his fall.
Nothing.
“Of course there is nothing. Why do you think you deserve something?”
Charles jerked his head up, and there was the woman, falling calmly above him.
“You are a ridiculous Alpha, unable to learn from your mistakes. Tell me, do you take pleasure in destroying my descendant’s ability to trust and have a family?”
Charles snarled. He had not done that intentionally. He had never meant to hurt his wife.
The woman vanished again.
“You do enjoy lying to yourself,” the voice came from below him. Charles’s eyes widened in shock to see her directly below him.
“I do not,” he replied back. “I love him—“
“How can you?”
Charles’s eyes went wide to see Master Kenway smile up at him.
He gulped as his mentor sensuously pressed himself against Charles’s still falling body.
“You do not know him, Charles. You had him for less than a single year before he killed himself. You knew nothing of the leader he was, the mother he ought to have been, the lover he could have been. You knew nothing of any of his abilities besides his ability to kill.”
Charles flushed.
It hurt that this phantom would repeat MasterKenway’s words to him using Master Kenway’s face and body. It hurt that his weakness for his mentor was so exposed.
With effort, Charles pushed the likeness of his mentor away from him. “No, you’re wrong. I knew the loyal Assassin he was. I knew the fighter he was. I knew—“
The phantom who wore Master Kenway’s form disappeared. Charles looked around wildly. He needed to watch out for what would appear next.
“So paranoid.”
Charles looked up again, eyes widening at the sight of those warm amber-brown eyes.
The world blinked, and Charles was suddenly in his own home. In...
Connor’s room.
As he was gawking at the sight of that familiar room that he had not thought to see again, Connor walked right past him.
Charles grew cold to see the knife in his hands.
“Don’t,” he began, taking a single step forward.
The knife pointed right at him, and he stopped.
“Did you know,” his wife whispered, “that saving George’s life was only one of the reasons I killed myself?”
He drew back the knife and stared at it in consideration.
“I really couldn’t bear it anymore. Being your wife, feeling your odious touch upon my body...”
Charles lunged for the knife.
He ran right through that beloved form and crashed into the bed behind him.
“So crass,” that beloved voice came from behind him. “Is that the only thing on your mind? Rutting?”
Charles flushed and turned himself around with difficulty, the sheets entangling him as he struggled to rise.
“You really just want me to be a doll for you, don’t you? Just a living, breathing doll that you can fuck whenever you choose. Just something to breed children for you and your Order and that can never go against you.”
No. No that wasn’t...
Charles flailed as he tried to rid himself of those blasted sheets. How were they so restrictive?
“My, you lie to yourself so much, that you even come to believe it now. Such a stupid Alpha.”
Charles snarled.
This wasn’t Connor. This wasn’t the beautiful young man that wanted to be able to trust him. This wasn’t the mother of his child. This was...
“Of course it is.” And the sheets suddenly fell off of him.
Freed at last, Charles stood and whirled around to face his tormentor.
“Tormentor? I would hardly call myself that,” said the woman in white. Her smile, Charles was disgusted to see, was the same blank, slightly condescending look she had used with him this entire time.
“I simply remind you of the truth.”
“What truth?” Charles spat.
She shook her head sadly.
“The truth you refuse to see. The truth you would sooner close your eyes on than look at.”
No, the woman lied. He was not so cowardly as to refuse to view the truth. He was—
“Obstinate. Blind. Jealous.”
The first and the last he would give her, but the second was ridiculous.
“It cannot continue on like this. I have invested too much into my plan, into my descendants, for something like this to come to pass.”
“So you can defeat Minerva?” Charles growled at her.
She laughed.
“Oh no. Both Minerva and I are the progenitors of the one who needs to make the decision. We both need him alive and well. It is what decision he makes that will ultimately affect me.”
Charles clenched his teeth in frustration.
To think of this woman should play around with the lives of his and Connor’s descendants as she was doing with him...It was unthinkable.
“Oh no,” she corrected. “It need not be your descendant at all. I had originally thought you the best choice, but it seems that I may have made a mistake.”
Charles grew cold. She couldn’t be suggesting what he thought she was.
“I am. You squandered your chance, even with my help, and I see no reason to reward you now. I will need to find someone else to help bring about the future.”
“You called me here to—“
“—warn you to leave my descendant be. Return the amulet to those of my blood. It is not for you. He is not for you.”
.
“No.”