He probably should not have not told the maid about his relation to the Templar Grandmaster. In a matter of hours, the news had spread like wildfire among the servants. As he wandered about his gilded cage, his sensitive hearing would catch bits and pieces of gossip from room to room. Like the day before, he could still feel their eyes regard him with tolerance and caution; much as the patriot soldiers had when the Assassin appeared in their camps. However, now there was curiosity, and understanding as to why their Master had taken a half-breed as his bride.
Connor's stomach churned and decided to avoid any contact with the servants for awhile. The gossip did not bother him. His only concern was that the news would spread to the master of the house, and the young Omega did not know how Charles would react. Would his husband be angry? Or perhaps he wouldn't even care. He could only hope for the former, knowing fully well the Templar would take his aggression out on Connor's loved ones.
Knowing that there was nothing he could do now, Connor continued to wander around, bored out of his mind. He felt incredibly homesick since there was always something to do around Davenport. When he wasn't hunting (sometimes with Myriam), he would often visit the other settlers. They always greeted Connor kindly, with genuine smiles, and would call him by his name. They had been surprised by how willing he was to lend a hand, and came to rely on his help. He did not mind running errands for them, since it helped the community in a long run.
When they had the time to spare, the artisans would even teach him their trade. Before he had left for New York to track down Hickey, Connor had spent a lot of time with Ellen who helped him improve his sewing skills. Sometimes she would supervise him, or they would work side by side, to create a variation of assassin robes for his recruits. All six of them were incredibly skilled, and would eventually become masters themselves one day. Connor had hoped to pass down the robes to his students as his mentor had to him, and in time they themselves would carry out the tradition with their own recruits. In time, the Brotherhood of the Colonies would be restored...
His eyes burned again, and Connor stubbornly blinked them back. No, he was done with weeping. At least for the today. The Omega needed to be strong if he was going to survive this ordeal.
Sitting down in an chair within the empty parlor, Connor traced the polished wood arm-rests and fondly recalled Lance's excitement over an upcoming project of his: a chair that could fold. The carpenter had been more eager to work on his own unique invention, than repairing his model of the flying machine invented by Leonardo da Vinci. The model, Connor had regrettably crashed into the bay. The memory of he, Lance, and a couple of his sailors dragging the flying machine across beach while laughing, brought a small smile to his face...
"Look what have we here, lads."
A mocking voice quickly drew him away from his pleasant memories and back to the present. The smile quickly vanished as he spotted three men in the hallway, all leering at him. Activating his second sight, Connor's eyes narrowed at their brightly shining crimson forms.
Templars
The Assassin quickly got to his feet, and glared at them in warning.
"So this is the leader of the Assassins?" one asked while sizing Connor up like he was a piece of meat.
"Was," another corrected. "That little group is done for. He's nothing but Master Lee's Omega now."
"Hardly threatening without all them weapons," the third one commented while licking his lips and stepped forward. "Pretty lil' thing, aren't ya?"
Connor growled in warning. Were these his husband's henchmen? Why were they here? What did they want with him? He may not have his weapons; but Connor had been trained to defend himself and kill with his bare hands if necessary.
"Hey Edwards, you should back off," one of the smarter Templars cautioned. "That Assassin isn't your typical Omega."
The man named Edwards turned a deaf ear to the warning as he invaded Connor's personal space and sneered down at him. In his head, Connor began to count to ten, hands curling into fists at his sides.
"Ah was at the wedding. Don't remember me do ya?"
Oh, but Connor did remember as his glare intensified. He remembered this man very well all of a sudden. Remembered his rough, calloused hands pinning his arms down with a few others henchmen as he was...
"The name's Tom Edwards," the cocky henchman introduced himself and offered that same offending hand out towards Connor. "Gotta say, it's a pleasure..."
"No," the Assassin quietly interrupted as placed his hand over the thug's wrists and grabbed hold of it tightly, before slamming a other fist into Edwards' abdomen. As the Templar double over, Connor yanked his knee up and caught him in the jaw. Edwards went down hard, twitching in pain while gasping for breath, until the heel of Connor's boot pressed down lightly against his throat. "The pleasure, is all mine."
"CONNOR!"
The Omega went tense all over, and he looked up from Edwards' ashen face to the furious red one Charles Lee wear as he stormed into the room.
Damn!
A/N: Really wished the Assassin recruits had their own robes like Ezio's apprentices had in both Brotherhood and Revelations. Also, Connor got a little tired of angsting
Second Fill - The Honey Moon - Part 13/?
He probably should not have not told the maid about his relation to the Templar Grandmaster. In a matter of hours, the news had spread like wildfire among the servants. As he wandered about his gilded cage, his sensitive hearing would catch bits and pieces of gossip from room to room. Like the day before, he could still feel their eyes regard him with tolerance and caution; much as the patriot soldiers had when the Assassin appeared in their camps. However, now there was curiosity, and understanding as to why their Master had taken a half-breed as his bride.
Connor's stomach churned and decided to avoid any contact with the servants for awhile. The gossip did not bother him. His only concern was that the news would spread to the master of the house, and the young Omega did not know how Charles would react. Would his husband be angry? Or perhaps he wouldn't even care. He could only hope for the former, knowing fully well the Templar would take his aggression out on Connor's loved ones.
Knowing that there was nothing he could do now, Connor continued to wander around, bored out of his mind. He felt incredibly homesick since there was always something to do around Davenport. When he wasn't hunting (sometimes with Myriam), he would often visit the other settlers. They always greeted Connor kindly, with genuine smiles, and would call him by his name. They had been surprised by how willing he was to lend a hand, and came to rely on his help. He did not mind running errands for them, since it helped the community in a long run.
When they had the time to spare, the artisans would even teach him their trade. Before he had left for New York to track down Hickey, Connor had spent a lot of time with Ellen who helped him improve his sewing skills. Sometimes she would supervise him, or they would work side by side, to create a variation of assassin robes for his recruits. All six of them were incredibly skilled, and would eventually become masters themselves one day. Connor had hoped to pass down the robes to his students as his mentor had to him, and in time they themselves would carry out the tradition with their own recruits. In time, the Brotherhood of the Colonies would be restored...
His eyes burned again, and Connor stubbornly blinked them back. No, he was done with weeping. At least for the today. The Omega needed to be strong if he was going to survive this ordeal.
Sitting down in an chair within the empty parlor, Connor traced the polished wood arm-rests and fondly recalled Lance's excitement over an upcoming project of his: a chair that could fold. The carpenter had been more eager to work on his own unique invention, than repairing his model of the flying machine invented by Leonardo da Vinci. The model, Connor had regrettably crashed into the bay. The memory of he, Lance, and a couple of his sailors dragging the flying machine across beach while laughing, brought a small smile to his face...
"Look what have we here, lads."
A mocking voice quickly drew him away from his pleasant memories and back to the present. The smile quickly vanished as he spotted three men in the hallway, all leering at him. Activating his second sight, Connor's eyes narrowed at their brightly shining crimson forms.
Templars
The Assassin quickly got to his feet, and glared at them in warning.
"So this is the leader of the Assassins?" one asked while sizing Connor up like he was a piece of meat.
"Was," another corrected. "That little group is done for. He's nothing but Master Lee's Omega now."
"Hardly threatening without all them weapons," the third one commented while licking his lips and stepped forward. "Pretty lil' thing, aren't ya?"
Connor growled in warning. Were these his husband's henchmen? Why were they here? What did they want with him? He may not have his weapons; but Connor had been trained to defend himself and kill with his bare hands if necessary.
"Hey Edwards, you should back off," one of the smarter Templars cautioned. "That Assassin isn't your typical Omega."
The man named Edwards turned a deaf ear to the warning as he invaded Connor's personal space and sneered down at him. In his head, Connor began to count to ten, hands curling into fists at his sides.
"Ah was at the wedding. Don't remember me do ya?"
Oh, but Connor did remember as his glare intensified. He remembered this man very well all of a sudden. Remembered his rough, calloused hands pinning his arms down with a few others henchmen as he was...
"The name's Tom Edwards," the cocky henchman introduced himself and offered that same offending hand out towards Connor. "Gotta say, it's a pleasure..."
"No," the Assassin quietly interrupted as placed his hand over the thug's wrists and grabbed hold of it tightly, before slamming a other fist into Edwards' abdomen. As the Templar double over, Connor yanked his knee up and caught him in the jaw. Edwards went down hard, twitching in pain while gasping for breath, until the heel of Connor's boot pressed down lightly against his throat. "The pleasure, is all mine."
"CONNOR!"
The Omega went tense all over, and he looked up from Edwards' ashen face to the furious red one Charles Lee wear as he stormed into the room.
Damn!
A/N: Really wished the Assassin recruits had their own robes like Ezio's apprentices had in both Brotherhood and Revelations. Also, Connor got a little tired of angsting