Rose: I know it's early, but I'm making an ACIII story.

Disclaimer: OC's and plot.


The snow fell thick upon the ground, coating it in a sea of white that blended the sky and earth into a single canvas, despite the blinding sight before him Connor led his horse further into the plains towards the camp he'd set up and left behind a few weeks before, with luck it would not be too damaged,

As he rode, the cold biting at his fingers and the wind chilling his body, he became aware that he was not alone, he could hear the thundering of horses hooves pounding the ground and the terrified screams of a woman in distress,

It appeared to be fading, pulling the reins of his own horse he forced it to stop so he may listen; yes, it was defiantly moving away from him, quickly he turned to ride in the direction so that he could chase them, he could not stand by and allow whatever was happening to that woman to continue,

He first discovered the ruins of a carriage, it was tipped on its side and the horses that had been pulling it were white in the eye as they attempted to free themselves, pulling a knife from his side Connor cut the leather straps which tied them down and watched them flee into the blizzard, then he checked inside the carriage for survivors but there was only the driver, long dead and half frozen from the weather,

The bags and luggage that had been on the roof of the carriage were strewn all around, clothes left behind to be forgotten as only anything of value had been taken; climbing back onto his horse the man felt a twinge in his head and clenched his eyes shut, when he opened them again he saw glowing red hoof prints in the snow,

This strange gift of his that he had first discovered as a child, it had helped him in the past, no doubt it would help him now,

He followed the still visible tracks of the attackers; his steed was faster than any other and could withstand the cold better than any horse he had ever known.


He followed the trail to a small village, it was not Mohawk though, and he could see no one who would confirm whether they were friend or foe; some tribes, such as his own, had made an alliance with the British forces because they promised to protect their heritage and allow them to live on their lands free from the threat of war and invasion, but other tribes had joined with the Revolution side, wishing to be free from the British who they saw as being the cause of all their problems,

Due to this strife the tribes had turned on one another and no longer was it safe to travel across land that belonged to others, climbing down from his horse Connor slipped behind one of the tipi's, peering through a gap in the sides he could see a family of Tuscarora, a tribe that were well and truly in favour of the Revolution and although Connor himself shared their allegiance he was also a Mohawk and they would not hesitate to attack him in the belief that he was their enemy,

Again he unleashed his gift, within each tipi he could see the red outlines of various people; in the middle of the small settlement however, was a huddled gold image that drew his attention, she was a trembling little thing dressed in the typical clothing of a settler lady,

He crept around the side of it; many tribes kidnapped settler women and children whether to use them as brides or to trade them to other tribes or back to their families, they brought new blood into the tribe and could increase a mans social standing, very often the women would eventually come to enjoy her time as women had a higher status with Indians than their own society,

Leaving her here felt wrong however, she was alone and frightened and if he had the chance to return her home then he saw no reason not to take it, he would never dream of kidnapping a women in such a fashion in order to marry her,

The flap was raised and he stepped inside, the woman snapped her head up with a gasp and her stormy eyes widened as he reached out his hand "wait…" her voice was soft, if not bottled sounding due to the tears still welling in her eyes, he halted "do with me what you what but please…be gentle" with that said she lowered her gaze to the floor,

Connor swallowed thickly and curled his fingers lightly around her upper arm to guide her to her feet, she shivered as the cold air engulfed her entirely "I will not hurt you" his breath washed over her face and his other arm slipped beneath her knees so that her lithe form was cradled against his much larger one,

Gold met silver and her fingers tightened around the blue trim of his cloak, she nodded once "be gentle" she repeated, his grip on her shoulder twitched and he exited the house and slipped back through the snow trail he'd already carved, whereas before he would have been mostly camouflaged due to his white uniform this woman's wine red dress meant he had to be extra careful with his movements, he did not want someone to come out into the village and see him carrying off their prisoner,

She seemed surprised to discover that he was not taking her to another wigwam but rather, he was taking her completely from the village, was he not one of them? Why then was he leaving with her? Perhaps there was a more…private residence that he wished to take her to?

Her heart pounded furiously within her breast, just a few hours ago she had been riding within a beautiful carriage on her way home; still feeling giddy from having seen her sister and her new little one , and now she was held captive within the arms of an Indian man as he whisked her off to heaven only knows where so he could have his way with her!

Or at least, that was what she had been led to believe; the Indians who took her originally had spoken in a tongue she could never dream of understanding but this man…this man spoke perfect English,

There was a beautiful, sturdy looking horse coming towards them; the man spoke to it in that unspeakable language and the horse whinnied, the words he spoke seemed somehow different to the ones she'd heard the others say earlier though, almost like it was a different language altogether; she did not have time to ponder for long as the man lifted her onto the saddle of the horse and climbed up behind her, a single arm tying itself around her slim waist to keep her balanced and safe as he rode,

And ride he did, fast and swift through the compact snow even as the blizzard blew thickly around them creating a haze that she could not bare her eyes to, the man had no such problems as the hood of his coat descended down over his eyes, shielding them from the harsh winds and allowing him to safely find his way.


His camp consisted of a single domed wigwam on the bank of a frozen river; this was where he lived when he grew tired of the bustling cities or did not want to return to his tribe, although he longed to see his mother again most of the Mohicans were favouring the side of the British and he felt unwelcome staying there for long periods of time,

The horse took shelter under the nearby trees where the wind could not reach it, Connor dismounted and hoisted the saddle bags over his shoulder before taking the hand of the woman and leading her inside his little home, the flap that made up the door was weighed down by a thick stick on the hem, keeping the winds and chill from finding their way in,

He was still holding the bags when the woman span him around and cupped his face with her slender hands before pressing her lips against his firmly, Connors eyes grew wide but he could not find the strength to pull away, the bags landed on the ground with a loud thump and for a moment he was concerned his lamp might have been shattered but the thought passed when he was taken in by her lips again,

They were so soft, why were they so soft? Oh mother, it must be a sin to have lips so soft! Why couldn't he stop thinking about how soft they were?

She moved her hands from his face and down to his wrists, guiding them to her waist where he clutched onto the sleek curve of bone that made up her hips, his thumbs rubbing the slope through her corset as the silky material tickled his calluses,

A tiny moan was torn from his throat when she pulled away, fluttering his eyes open (when had they closed?) he stared down at the blushing lady as she tried to keep eye contact with him, the red on her cheeks melting down her neck to rest upon her bosom,

"Was that…" she began, still struggling with her eyes, he saw them flickering weakly until finally she noticed the blank expression he wore "oh dear…you do kiss don't you?" she was beginning to panic "oh no, oh no, I've done something very wrong haven't I? I've insulted you, haven't I? I thought everyone kissed, should I have known you don't kiss? What do you do instead? Oh dear, I thought if I was docile you'd be gentle…oh dear, oh dear, oh-"

Connor did the only thing he could think of to stop her incessant babbling; he mated his mouth to hers once again, firmer this time and with his arms tighter around her tiny body, her lips were still moving with unspoken words as her brain caught up to what her body was doing, and with a jump she threw her arms around his neck to press back, he felt his hood drop and the woman's hands run across his scalp, the touch sending shivers down his spine to collect near his tail bone and then migrate towards the front of his body,

What was this woman doing?

He almost groaned again when she pulled away once more, why did she keep doing that? Could they not remain like that forever? Perfectly moulded against one another with their bodies indistinguishable from one another? Why ever not?

Her fingers were tracing his jaw softly, studying him; he had the typical reddish-tan that all his people possessed although it had paled slightly due to his choice of clothing, his face was a mesh of strong features, most prominently the jaw she was playing with and his hooked nose, his lips were rather thick for his face and he had always assumed he'd received that particular trait from his British father,

His head had been shaved and all that remained was the thick stubble across his skull, usually his people would grow their hair as long as they could before plucking themselves completely bald, save a small spot at the base of their skull where the hair would remain untouched so that it could be braided and beaded for war; Connor found the long hair uncomfortable under his tight hood though and often took the time to shave it every few weeks, he would have preferred to wear his hair in the traditional style but was unable to do so currently,

"You're very handsome" she whispered "more so than I was expecting"

Connor forced down the lump that had formed in his throat as his hazel eyes examined her the same way she had done to him; he had seen many settler women during his time in both New York, Boston and everywhere in-between, they were no different to Mohawk women in terms of physical appearance, often having narrow waists with widened hips, their skin was different obviously, being very pale and smooth, they had a wider variety of hair colours too, ranging from dark brown like the Mohawks to a rustic red that reminded him of the colours of changing leaves,

This woman had hair as golden as the sun itself; she had styled it into an elaborate twist at the back of her head but it had all but fallen out, with most of the locks hanging past her exposed shoulders to reach far down her back,

The clothing of this woman was similar to that of other settler women he'd seen, unlike Mohawk women who covered themselves in loose, easy to move in tunics, this woman was wearing many layers of clothes upon her lower half, but he was given full view of her collar bone and part of her breasts, as was the fashion it was tight around her stomach and waist and secured in the back with many ribbons,

"You too are…handsome" he murmured, was that the correct complement? He wasn't entirely sure, Indians were not quite as obsessed with physical appearance as Settlers were, every time he went to Boston it seemed as though the men and women were finding new ways to alter their shape, hair or features to fit in with the latest 'style'

She flushed darker as he spoke and he assumed that meant he'd done well, but it had already been too long since he'd felt her lips, barely two times and already he had become addicted to the feeling of her mouth, the way it moved against his own, the texture and moisture…

"What is this called?" he asked, their breath mingling as he leant down, utterly lost in that strange floral scent that wafted from her skin,

"Kissing" she replied "it is called 'kissing'"

"Kissing" he repeated softly, looking from her lips to her eyes "it is very…interesting"

"Do you not kiss?"

Connor shook his head "no, my people do not 'kiss'"

There was a flash of confusion "I don't understand…how then, do people show affection for one another?"

"There are many ways; friends who have been separated may embrace one another or clasp hands and husbands and wives inhale one another's breath"

"Inhale one another's breath?"

Although their breath was mixing together they were not inhaling it, so Connor cupped the back of her head and tilted his own so his nose brushed her cheek, from this position the breath they exhaled from their mouths was combined and then forced back into their lungs when they inhaled again, the woman gasped lightly, obviously she had been expecting a kiss,

Why did this act seem much more thrilling that kissing? Before, they had been touching, they had felt their lips slide across each others but here, here they were barely touching at all, just the slide of his nose on her cheekbones as they breathed into one another,

Perhaps it was the fact that they could touch and yet they were refusing to do so, the temptation was there for him to take, he could claim her mouth again in her strange Settler custom or he could continue with his own peoples way of doing things, to share ones breath was special, the breath led to the soul; they were tasting each others souls…absorbing them, it was much deeper than her kiss,

He was broken from his daze when the woman moved, it was a tiny twitch of the muscles, nothing big but to Connor it might as well have been an earthquake, his eyes came back into focus and he straightened his back, the woman had her eyes closed with her hands pressed over her heart as she struggled to control her breathing,

"If we are to do this…perhaps we should not waste another moment of time" her eyes were still shut tight, he could see the creases forming on the outer corners of them,

"Do…what?" he inquired,

Then his heart jumped, suddenly remembering the reason why she was here in his wigwam rather than riding in her lavish carriage to whoever knows where,

She had been kidnapped to be taken as a wife…

And she thought he was the bridegroom!

Connor took a step back and one of her eyes peeked open curiously "I am not going to hurt you" he said evenly,

"I know, you said you would be gentle"

"No" he tried again, struggling to find the words "I am not going to lie with you" grey orbs popped open in shock, he saw relief and surprise fly across them before there was a sudden explosion of pain across his cheek,

SMACK!

"How dare you!" she cried, the blush on her cheeks no longer from bashfulness "how dare you allow me to carry on like some wanton bar girl! How dare you allow me to make a fool of myself like that!"

Connor clutched his cheek, feeling the heat burn through his fingers as blood rushed to the area, he wouldn't be surprised if it bruised "I did not intend-"

SMACK!

Now he had a matching pair "do not speak to me! You horrible, cruel man! Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I thought if perhaps I began kissing you then it would not be so unpleasant but now I know you were merely leading me on, taking pleasure in how scared I was! Finding enjoyment in ruining my reputation back home!" she buried her face in her hands and he heard sobbing "it does not even matter if you lie with me now, by the time I return home no one will believe I am innocent…"

"Surely if you explain to…these people, then your reputation would remain intact?"

"Explain what?" she snapped and he was taken aback, moments ago she had been sweet and docile but now she was like a wildcat fighting for freedom from a trap "that I spent my time alone with only the company of a man? Do you know how that sounds? I will be laughed out of my father's house. They will think of me as a whore!"

Now he understood, with no one to supervise them she was afraid that people would believe her to have engaged with him in ways he was sure she was not supposed to, there would be no way to prove that she was still a decent woman and as such, no one would wish to marry her,

It made sense after all, his own people were also very strict about pre-marital affairs and courting couples were closing watched by elders and family members,

She was still crying, only she had dropped onto the floor and was using the skirts of her dress to dry her eyes, Connor crouched down beside her "perhaps if I explain?" he was ready to move back when she looked at him, just in case she attempted to hit anywhere else,

"I do not think they would listen to reason from a man…such as yourself"

"A savage, you mean" she remained silent and averted her gaze "I see" standing back up he fished out his lamp from the saddle bags he'd dropped earlier, it was getting dark and if he didn't light it now he never would, luckily it had not been damaged in the fall; light flooded the tiny room and he hung the lantern in the centre so it illuminated everything and gave the illusion of warmth "I have blankets" he stated "and food and water if you should need it"

"Thank you" the woman muttered, not moving even as he draped the thicker of the two blankets across her shoulders, she clutched it more securely around her shivering form, pulling it up over her head and stuffing her nose down inside it so that all he could see were her eyes,

He sat beside her, knowing that, even if she refused, body heat was going to be essential if she wished to get any sleep, he could soundly pass days and nights in his little wigwam with nothing but blankets and a lamp but he was sure she wasn't as hardy as he was,

Already he could see her eyes dropping and her body struggling to stay upright within the blankets "if you need to lay down-"

"I'm fine" she cut him off sharply but not minutes after stating as such she was already drooping again and Connor shifted closer to catch her head as it fell to the side, she muttered something incoherent under her breath and cuddled into his shoulder, he positioned her on the ground and watched her cocoon herself further in the blankets,

A combination of the cold, anger and crying had tried her out, with luck she'd sleep through the night and hopefully the weather would have mellowed by then allowing him to take her home.


Rose: So what do you think for a first chapter?

Review please!