Dreamcatcher [ Connor Kenway x reader ] Assassin's Creed III fanfic

t w o

A couple of years went by and then you finally met him again. You spotted a very strange boy walking the streets of Boston, it was very cold afternoon and he looked surprisingly familiar. You could not resist and had to follow him to one of many shops roaming streets of Boston. He came to the town with that old dark-skinned guy - Achilles Davenport was his name and you knew that he lived far away in woods. Surprisingly, that young Mohawk boy was with him, you'd never guess to see him again.

Instinctively, he sensed your presence, the power of glance of your curious eyes and when he turned back to see who was watching him, you had no courage to face him. Running away and hiding was natural, but you could not run very far. Curiosity got the best of you, it was far more intense than fear and you peeked at him from the corner. He was still there. His chocolate-brown eyes were penetrating not only your body, but your soul too, you remembered them very well. It was the exact same feeling, like when you met his eyes for the first time.

Not a single word was spoken between the two of you. You were only glancing into each other's eyes, too young to understand the mutual feeling forming and creeping its way into both of your bodies. You were oblivious whether he remembered you or not, but there was something in his eyes, you got the feeling that maybe he was communicating with you without any words.

It did not take a long until you two were walking the streets together. No touches, only a few curious glances. He told you about his master and how them both needed to visit the town to get a few things. Even though he came from the Mohawk coven, his words were spoken in language familiar to your own; you could understand every word that came out of his mouth. You both stopped to rest in front of one of the shops he was about to visit.

"What is your name?" Your curiosity was strong, you had waited for long to ask him this question.

"Ratohnhaké:ton." The formation of those letters was so strange, so unfamiliar, but his name sounded interesting. It was pleasant to hear it.

"Rathoh- Raton-" You were trying to say his name aloud, but the tip of your tongue was incapable of working it out, his name was too unfamiliar and it was difficult to pronounce. When he noticed that you were trying in vain, there was a small lazy smirk forming on his face, his eyes sparkled with a tiny mischief.

"Call me Connor." That moment, you thought that his smile, which appeared across his lips was able to melt an iceberg, if he wanted to.

"Nice to meet you, Connor." You offered him your hand, but his eyes were confused. He did not take it, the only thing he did, was looking at your palm without any knowledge what to do. You realized that he was not aware of this friendly gesture, he was a Mohawk at all, they had different customs than colonists. Maybe they used other gestures to express their sympathies.

"It's only a friendly gesture, you don't have to be afraid."

"Friendly?" There was a surprise written in his eyes, when he looked into yours, you felt how his big and warm hand squeezed your smaller palm gently. His skin was silky and it radiated warmth, you had to admit, that it brought you very nice feeling when you touched it.

"This is how we, colonists, show that we sympathize with each other and are pleased to make acquaintance." You enlightened him. You did not understand how was it possible for you to be so confident in front of such a guy like himself, all your insecurities were suddenly gone.

"So, does this mean that we are friends now?"

"Yes, we are friends." You gave him gentle smile which he returned back. This was how the relationship between the two of you was born. A Native boy and a colonist girl. You both had no clue about the feeling of mutual attraction; you were too young that time.

When Achilles Davenport called him back, you had to say goodbye. You were still hoping to see him soon. Davenport's mansion was not too far away; it was possible for Connor to come back to town any time. He had to come back; you wanted him to so bad. From that day you had both became friends. It did not matter where you came from. You knew that day was not the last time Connor Kenway came into your life.