When dessert arrives, Connor is so out of it that that the first three bites of trifle taste like saw-dust in his mouth. He quickly vacates the dining room, not wanting to deal with the inquisitive stares and hushed whispers from the servants. Charles might have been saved from the Assassin's wrath (thanks to this accursed bond), but the last thing Connor wanted was to take it out on innocent people, no matter how curtly they treated him.
He desperately wanted retribution against his husband for this recent offense... and the thought of letting the General's precious dogs out in the wilderness had crossed his mind. However his conscience and fondness for domestic animals quickly banished the idea. They did not deserve to fall prey to the many predators outside their home. It was of no fault of their own that their owner was a twisted monster.
The half-native turned his attention to Lee's unfeeling possessions, such as the furniture and decor. They were expensive, according to the head maid - most pieces had been imported from London. But unless they held some sentimental value, Charles could always replace whatever was broken or vandalized. The Templar certainly had quite the fortune now thanks to this marriage, Connor seethed before drawing a sharp breath and tried to focus on more important matters. Never mind the money, he needed to figure a way out of this hopeless situation.
His hands itched for the bow and tomahawk he had always carried on his person since the day he left his village six years ago. Back when he had been just Ratonhnhaké:ton, and not the leader of the Assassin Brotherhood. It felt incredibly strange to be without them for this long. At least when he was imprisoned in Bridewall, the half-native knew they must have been in storage somewhere close by, and could get to them once he broke out or was released.
So if he managed to acquire weapons from one of the guards outside, or was lucky to find some within the manor, then what? He still couldn't kill Lee or his servants... but maybe he could intimidate them enough to find out where the Commander was being held and rescue him. Still it was a heavy gamble... if he were to fail, George would pay the ultimate price.
George...
Oh, how foolish he was to have allowed sentimentality rule over his duties. He should have not gotten so intimately close to Washington without eliminating the remaining Templars first. There just wasn't time to take things slow. After the botched execution and when the mortal danger had past, they realized just how close they had come to losing one another.
George had proposed to him that very night... and stayed with him as Connor hesitantly explained to his beloved just what he was going to get himself into. He told him about the secret war between the Assassins and the Templars. Told him of his father - Haytham Kenway (he still remembers how those blue eyes widened in surprise) was the Templar Grandmaster of the Colonies and mentor of Charles Lee, and set them both up to die that day. The hardest to explain was his own ancestry, his unique bloodline and the gift of second sight.. and that any child from their union would most likely possess it.
By the time Connor had finished, he had talked himself hoarse and the pre-dawn light was filtering through the windows. Washington had been quiet throughout the explanation, and the silence had put the Assassin on edge. Finally, he asked the Commander if he still wanted him as his Omega.. and prepared for rejection. George had been surprised by the straightforward question and responded in kind, or rather with a kiss, banishing all of Connor's fears away, before proposing once again.
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes."
The Assassin is jolted by the sound of his own voice, realizing he had spoken out loud. Fortunately, the hallway he has chose to pace in, is empty. So no one will think he's gone insane... yet. Swallowing hard, Connor can't help but trace a finger over his mouth, thinking of George's lips against them. He misses them terribly. Misses the warmth and affection. His heart aches.
'Wait for me, I will find you.'
A/N: Wry, I'm an evil, evil person... and just tear my own heart out listening to this while I was writing:
Second Fill - The Honey Moon - Part 7/?
When dessert arrives, Connor is so out of it that that the first three bites of trifle taste like saw-dust in his mouth. He quickly vacates the dining room, not wanting to deal with the inquisitive stares and hushed whispers from the servants. Charles might have been saved from the Assassin's wrath (thanks to this accursed bond), but the last thing Connor wanted was to take it out on innocent people, no matter how curtly they treated him.
He desperately wanted retribution against his husband for this recent offense... and the thought of letting the General's precious dogs out in the wilderness had crossed his mind. However his conscience and fondness for domestic animals quickly banished the idea. They did not deserve to fall prey to the many predators outside their home. It was of no fault of their own that their owner was a twisted monster.
The half-native turned his attention to Lee's unfeeling possessions, such as the furniture and decor. They were expensive, according to the head maid - most pieces had been imported from London. But unless they held some sentimental value, Charles could always replace whatever was broken or vandalized. The Templar certainly had quite the fortune now thanks to this marriage, Connor seethed before drawing a sharp breath and tried to focus on more important matters. Never mind the money, he needed to figure a way out of this hopeless situation.
His hands itched for the bow and tomahawk he had always carried on his person since the day he left his village six years ago. Back when he had been just Ratonhnhaké:ton, and not the leader of the Assassin Brotherhood. It felt incredibly strange to be without them for this long. At least when he was imprisoned in Bridewall, the half-native knew they must have been in storage somewhere close by, and could get to them once he broke out or was released.
So if he managed to acquire weapons from one of the guards outside, or was lucky to find some within the manor, then what? He still couldn't kill Lee or his servants... but maybe he could intimidate them enough to find out where the Commander was being held and rescue him. Still it was a heavy gamble... if he were to fail, George would pay the ultimate price.
George...
Oh, how foolish he was to have allowed sentimentality rule over his duties. He should have not gotten so intimately close to Washington without eliminating the remaining Templars first. There just wasn't time to take things slow. After the botched execution and when the mortal danger had past, they realized just how close they had come to losing one another.
George had proposed to him that very night... and stayed with him as Connor hesitantly explained to his beloved just what he was going to get himself into. He told him about the secret war between the Assassins and the Templars. Told him of his father - Haytham Kenway (he still remembers how those blue eyes widened in surprise) was the Templar Grandmaster of the Colonies and mentor of Charles Lee, and set them both up to die that day. The hardest to explain was his own ancestry, his unique bloodline and the gift of second sight.. and that any child from their union would most likely possess it.
By the time Connor had finished, he had talked himself hoarse and the pre-dawn light was filtering through the windows. Washington had been quiet throughout the explanation, and the silence had put the Assassin on edge. Finally, he asked the Commander if he still wanted him as his Omega.. and prepared for rejection. George had been surprised by the straightforward question and responded in kind, or rather with a kiss, banishing all of Connor's fears away, before proposing once again.
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes."
The Assassin is jolted by the sound of his own voice, realizing he had spoken out loud. Fortunately, the hallway he has chose to pace in, is empty. So no one will think he's gone insane... yet. Swallowing hard, Connor can't help but trace a finger over his mouth, thinking of George's lips against them. He misses them terribly. Misses the warmth and affection. His heart aches.
'Wait for me, I will find you.'
A/N: Wry, I'm an evil, evil person... and just tear my own heart out listening to this while I was writing:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lv6VW4tMZbE