Assassin's Creed 1. Chapter Zero

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**And of course, Disclaimer, ACIII belongs to Ubisoft :3**

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**CHAPTER ZERO**

**~ Pulling the rug from under ~**

The salty and earthy smell of sweat filled the air, mixed with a hint of mildew from the concrete walls. Blue mats stretched out all over the floors of the spacious room, bodies collided with the mats sending wisps of dust into the air. Grunts, groans, growls, voices and occasional chuckles and cheers filled the often meditative silence. Daylight poured from the rows of large industrial windows illuminating every corner of the spacious room, so no artificial light was needed in the daytime. Throughout the mats, pairs of two dressed either in loose fitting clothes ranging from loose black shirts and black trainers or loose high collar black buttoned up shirts with black cotton trousers sparred with each other practicing the recent lessons.

"Work on your stance, legs parted, arms held this way – yes, that's right."

A lithe and athletic middle aged Chinese man walked from pair to pair correcting and advising his pupils.

"Meryl,"

"Yes, Master?" A tall and slender woman responded calmly, her grey blue eyes awaiting his orders.

She stood beside her master, her 5ft4 [~1m75] frame towering his by just a few inches. She was of light and elegant build almost close to that of a dancer. Her stance was disciplined and straight with no slouching. Her natural light and straight blond hair was tied back in a tight high pony tail. She had light porcelain skin with a high nose, high cheek bones and deep set grey blue eyes.

"Check on the boys over there, they are again fooling around."

She responded with a bow and went to the boys. The Master watched her leave to join the noisy teenage boys at the far end of the room. When the boys spotted her, they immediately became rigid with nervousness and discomfort. The Master witnessed this and sighed. He had told her many times to relax not only her facial features but also her body, there was a limit on being serious in life and she was relentlessly serious everywhere she went. Her calm, strict and reserved demeanor always was mistaken for hostility and arrogance, when actually she was the opposite.

Even though her smiles were rare and sparse she was attentive, polite, and caring. Those who knew her for years came to respect her for what she was while the new students were constantly mystified by her behavior.

The master smiled. It had been 5 years since he had taken her under his wing. He was proud of her, of her achievements and the positive changes in her life. The 5 years under his guidance changed her for the better. However, recently in the past few weeks he noticed a few jarring issues about her and it bothered him.

Within a few minutes after he had sent Meryl to the boys, he rallied everybody into a line and they kneel down facing the kneeling master. They bowed with respect, their foreheads briefly touching the matt and with a few words of praising their hard work today all pupils were dismissed for the day.

Now only the Master and Meryl were left. Meryl was straightening the matts that were out of line with the others when the crisp voice of her master halted her actions.

"It's been already 5 years, how time flies." he mentioned casually.

Meryl looked in the Master's direction. He stood there with his arms folded behind his back bearing a peaceful expression on his face. He was generally a happy human being, content with his life and his situation. He was also relatively laid back. Unlike the Asians Meryl knew as the martial art school was in China town, he didn't even bother to dye his hair black. He proudly displayed the grey hairs on the sides of his head claiming they were badges of experiences and wisdom. With each grey hair, he said, he became wiser and it always managed to make Meryl smile.

Her insides twisted with a mix of glee and anxiety; the implication of his innocent words sending a shock wave of memories back into her system. Meryl stood up stiffly, facing her Master.

Although he was shorter by a few inches, in his mid-fifties (Asians were in general Gods of youth – he was no exception), skinny in built, charming if he needed to be –he was terrifyingly powerful and agile. Meryl always thought that her master was a mix of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan, never too serious and never too funny, he struck a perfect balance between the two with a twist of his own identity.

"Yeah… 5 years." She mumbled.

Tension seeped into the room, pressing down on Meryl's shoulders. She didn't want to remember the life she had 5 years ago and beyond that, because she had moved on.

"Have you been-

-in contact with _them_?" she interrupted him in a steady voice, her grey eyes sharpened with an icy expression.

"Have you?" he reinforced his tone almost challenging her.

They stared at each other, the tension brewing some more, and when it was about to achieve its climax Meryl sighed to diffuse it. It seemed like her past would never let go, no matter how much she changed herself or ran away from it. Why, why did he have to bring this up?

"No." her answer was firm and direct, leaving no shred of doubt.

Her Master sighed in disappointment.

"You have to confront your past. It is the only way for you to find inner peace."

She had to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. This was almost comical and cheesy; here we have a middle aged Chinese martial artist lecturing life lessons – Mr. Miyagi, much?

As if reading her thoughts, he threw a jab of his hand at her which she deflected with her right hand. It was an expected trait of his when he knew she was going off course with her thoughts and actions. It was one of his weakest but take-me-serious jabs which served more as a reminder.

"I know what you were thinking! Don't you dare compare me to Hollywood stereotypes!" he barked and withdrew his hand to pace around her with scolding eyes, "I am telling you this because something is distracting you! You have become sloppy with your form, your rhythm is off, your breathing is off – everything is off!"

"..."

He sighed with irritation, but then took a deep steady breath, seeing how quiet and attentive Meryl had become although he knew she was smoldering on the inside.

"Kung Fu is never about fighting fire with fire – if I catch you internally rolling your eyes at my analogy once more I will physically disable you for a week – while I understand the physical appeal of Kung Fu brought by Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Jet Li, it is deeper than this. It is about control, maintaining inner and outer peace with oneself. That is why my school's philosophy. We first properly train your chi and then secondly work on combat forms. In part Kung Fu's purpose is to cleanse, heal and create peace with oneself. But you, Meryl, are not at peace anymore for several months now and you are openly thwarting my peaceful principles by allowing _your past training _to destroy the peace _I have created for you_."

Her body stiffed some more, she clenched and loosened her fists to try to calm herself but it only seemed to fuel her anger. What did he mean by this? Did he forget where she came from? Did he really expect that she would overcome her past? Overcome it all by mere Kung Fu?

"You expressed a desire in pursuing Kung Fu under my guidance with the possibility of succeeding me. While you are my assistant and my most accomplished pupil – I cannot afford to have your careless and often avoidable mistakes make a fool of my school."

"I am not even sure what _mistakes_ you are talking about anymore, Master Kang." She responded as civilly as possible, but her biting tone did not go unnoticed.

"I am not the only one seeing your mistakes, Meryl, those who've been under my tutelage for 10 plus years are painful aware of them too."

"Then why the _fuck_ don't you have Brendan in line! He is more competent than I am with all his years of training and Asian!"

Master Kang cringed at the curse word, his lip curled with disgust at her. He was about to counter he words, but she waved her hand at him to silence him.

"You preach about peace yet you are instigating a conflict over matters that you cannot understand! Do you expect that _mere_ Kung Fu will heal _years_ of my life? I thought my case was clear to you before you decided to take me in!"

She took a few deep shuddering breaths, not proud that she exposed her vulnerability to him all over again. She saw something brewing in her Master's face and she felt the unease weighing down on her stomach, something bad was going to happen.

"Meryl… I will terminate your employment indeterminately."

"Whaat?!" she croaked in disbelief, as if he had punched her in the gut.

"You heard me, I want you to sort yourself out, reevaluate your life. Do some soul searching."

"Whaa –why?! Where will I go, what will I do?!" she exclaimed, the panic seizing up her insides.

"You will still receive salary, I just… Enjoy your life, get a college degree, settle down with Kazuma, be happy and make peace with your past."

The fact that Master Kang had dragged her childhood friend, Kazuma, into this, incited her anger even more.

"What the fuck?! This will take me a _lifetime _to do this!"

"_MERYL BRIAR_!" Master Kang snapped back at her reproachfully, "How many times have I forbid you from swearing in this sacred place! I don't want your filthy tongue tainting the peaceful atmosphere of my school!"

Grudgingly her body had stiffened up in response to his shout, her posture straightened, her eyes dead set ahead with her head raised. An unaffected expression settled in her face. Master Kang witnessed that reaction and it appeared to anger him more, but he sighed with a mix of irritation and helplessness.

"I took you in because I saw your potential." He began with his stern expression growing relaxed and calm, "When I found you in the backstreet fighting off 5 muggers using your bare hands and previous training, I was shocked by your destructive nature but also in awe by your strength."

The raw images of that day still haunted Meryl, because it was the lowest point in her life. It was a time where she felt useless, helpless and in despair. The uncontrollable rage she had garnered throughout the years had come to an exploding point on that night. It was only a year after her honorable discharge from the Marine Corps.

She had become a decorated Lance corporal earning the respect of her brothers in arms on the soils of Iraq. She saved lives of her brothers and Iraqi civilians, and killed the so-called terrorists. Whenever she heard the word "hero" she would scoff at it. Heroes never existed in the wars, heroes never killed. She lost most of her Marine Corps brothers and never a day goes by where she wished she could have saved each one of them. Those frenzied years of the Iraqi war between 2004 and 2008, all lines were blurred even from a moral standpoint, war and politics created a nasty and inescapable cesspool. The worst part was whenever you wore a uniform the cesspool followed you.

Anyway, her superiors applauded her service and honorably discharged her – most likely because she was too good for them and felt threatened that she was a woman. She was climbing up ranks faster than her male counter parts and as the armed forces are still working to catch up with the modern era – they felt threatened by her and got rid of her to make way for other "competent men".

Either way, the Marine Corps taught her more about life than all the years she lived on Earth. Meryl learned about brotherhood, friendship, loyalty, and duty. She learned about the inner workings of politics and to some degree she was relieved that she was discharged as she became continuously disgusted by it. Her supervisors could have done a better job for her "send off" rather than using the discrete sexist and demeaning approach of "you being of the weaker sex" and "we must ensure that you can still reproduce" bullshit.

But those days have passed, she admittedly misses the days she spent with her brothers, the excitement with each mission, the stability it provided and the gratification it gave her, but civilian life was better. She was not ashamed of her title as a war vet, she followed orders and save her country (and herself most importantly). She had no regrets. She just didn't want the attention, very simple as that.

On that night that Master Kang found her she was defending herself against the muggers. It was a stupid mistake on her part. She lived in Harlem renting out the cheapest room she could afford in the upper part of New York City. She lived temporarily in that rickety apartment with the left over salary she had as war vet plus the meager pension she received with it. One night in her out-of-character moments and maybe she was feeling cocky as well, she ventured out in one of the least safest areas at night. She bumped into a group of 5 male thugs in their 20s or maybe teens, consisting of two African Americans, two Hispanic and one of mixed race. All were dressed up in the trademark gangster look, but they all wore some hints of blue on their shirts or pants. Meryl knew immediately they were gang affiliated.

"You were brilliant, tactful yet ruthless - trained to kill," Added Master Kang deep in thought interrupting Meryl's thoughts. "You were also different back then, just a year out of the Marine Corps, probably also rattled by what the war did to you."

Meryl's memory was hazy. From the moment these thugs had shoved her in the backstreet, the vivid images of Iraq had taken a hold of her body. Whenever the fear for her life and survival kicked in, Iraq was back in front of her eyes. The muggers turned to the insurgents, spouting curses at her in Arabic and Kurdish. She was overpowered by the sensation of her eyes prickling from the hot sands, the scent of dirt, sweat, burning flesh, and hearing the deafening whistling missiles and impacting and agonized screams.

When she came to, she had been straddling the last surviving mugger, punching his bloodied, bruised face left and right repeatedly. If it weren't for Master Kang, she probably would have killed him. Thankfully all 5 muggers were out cold, but all still breathing.

After quick introductions and friendliness Master Kang dragged her away from the scene and they took several subway trains down into China town. Even now Meryl found it unbelievable that she trusted and followed this handsome older Chinese man down to his martial art school. He had promised shelter, food and care, which he did. He took care of her like she was his own. That kind of attention, this parental kind… it had been a while.

When Meryl turned 8, her grandparents had gained full custody of her as her drug addict mom had gone completely out of control. The life she spent with her grandparents were the best years of her life, she had the perfect idyllic life that all kids had. But by the age of 18 when she graduated high school, her grandparents tragically died in a car accident caused by a drunk driver.

The raw emotions prompted her to join the Marine Corps, because she had nowhere else to go. She refused to let her mother in her life, because she only brought anger, misery and sadness. The Marine Corps saw her potential; they encouraged her, pushed her hard and rewarded her with praises. She gained respect from her peers, her unit. And she learned more about life through the Marine Corps.

Master Kang had offered her a spare room near his class room. She had begun lodging there while he tended to her physical or psychological wounds. It was also where she grew some interest in Kung Fu which ultimately turned her into his pupil.

She owed him her life. He was always respectful of her ways, he never judged her. But this time, he was stepping over the line. He was being unreasonable.

Despite still seething with anger, she decided not to act on her feelings and instead turned away from him and walked towards her room. She slammed the door in his face and locked it. He had followed her half way and huffed with annoyance. He rolled his neck once more, feeling so brittle in his shoulders. It was obviously the tension created by this entire situation.

Within a few minutes Meryl barged out of her room with her rucksack slung over her back and dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans, a dark grey North Face down jacket which was form fitting and extended to her thighs and a pair of black leather boots with a few inch heels. It was actually close to the end of October and knowing the blistering cold of New York City, it was always better to layer up.

Meryl gave him one long and angry glare then turned around and stormed out of the room.

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"Hey Meryl, wait up!" called out a familiar voice which made Meryl stop in her tracks and turn to the source.

"Hey Kaz." She said with her voice faltering.

A young Japanese man in his late twenties pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against and came over to her. His name was Kazuma Maeda, Kaz for short. Unbelievable as it was for a Japanese he was 6 feet tall [1m85]. He was slender in built, but recently had more muscle definition in his torso and arms. He was dressed smartly with a pair of Levi dark jeans, a dark leather jacket unzipped revealing his blue striped buttoned up shirt and a nice pair of dark shoes. His hair was black and straight, cut in the same length everywhere but done in a way to highlight the shape of his face and his defined cheek bones. He had the habit of brushing his hair back with his fingers. He usual wore light framed glasses, but today he had contacts, showing his calming brown eyes.

As he had begun to lose weight, he had begun to take care of his appearance; he had truly become a striking and fashionable young man. His work must have brought on these remarkable changes.

He grinned in her direction with the boyish charm he had since they met in elementary school with his eyes crinkling. Meryl's heart gave a pleasant squeeze. He was usually known for his reserved and often calculated looks, but once breaking through that shell he was a very pleasant person who possessed infinite patience and understanding. He was always there for her.

"Where are you off to?" he said with an amused tone which Meryl responded with narrowed eyes and a pout.

She stood there, her eyes cast glumly to the concrete ground below her feet.

"Can I crash at your place?" she asked him quietly with uncertainty in her voice, her eyes still lowered to the ground.

He studied her for a moment, reading her overall body language and expression.

"You had a fight with Master Kang?" he asked her, his voice appropriately toned down as he knew it was a serious issue for Meryl.

She didn't respond, but it gave him all the answer he needed. He remembered Meryl and Master Kang having many disagreements with each other. The last incident was 3 years ago when she was still getting used to Master Kang's ways. He knew Master Kang as he was a family friend since his parents had moved to the United States. It was purely coincidental that they met again and so old school friends have been reconnected again.

Kazuma had lost touch with Meryl since the death of her grandparents and her graduation from high school. It was like she had disappeared from the world entirely. He was gripped with worry when she had gone, but college and then work took over his life. Then one day during his parents' usual tea time banter, Master Kang spoke so glowingly of his new pupil. This was a year into Meryl's stay with Master Kang. He told them that her name was Meryl and that she was an Iraqi war veteran. Kazuma's attention was immediately piqued by the sound of Meryl's name and something told him to visit Master Kang's class to see.

He was shocked to say the least. Sparring among the pupils was Meryl his childhood friend, looking fierce, powerful and intimidating with her killer moves. She was completely different to the Meryl he had grown up with who was shy and vulnerable. This Meryl was strong, centered, confident and, well… extremely beautiful. When they first met after all these years, Meryl had jumped into his arms in utter glee, something she would have never done. He was startled by her reaction but also thrilled beyond belief that she felt that way for him. It was comforting for him to know that after all these years of absence, he was still important to her.

After their first encounter, they started hanging out a lot like old times, reminiscing, playing video games, watching movies and simply chattering away. They met on a regular basis, so he was up to date with her life and so was she with his. She told him she was a war vet, gave him the overall picture of her Marine Corps life while sparing him of the gruesome details and he told her about his career as a programmer. However, the one topic that never was breached was their relationship status. As far as Kazuma could gather she was not in a relationship and she probably gathered that he wasn't in any as well.

"Sure, you can come crash at my place. I have a sofa bed in my living room." Kaz said with his boyish grin on his face.

Meryl looked at him, her blue grey eyes misting over with gratitude. She quickly looked away and cleared her throat to repel her emotions.

"It's getting late. Let's go get some dinner," he suggested perceptive of her mood, "I know that awesome Japanese restaurant just a few blocks away."

"Okay." Meryl smiled at him with gratitude.

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**I hope you like this chapter so far :D This chapter serves as a prologue, but don't worry more action will happen in the following chapters :D We need a good build-up before jumping in, right? ;P I will try to update regularly, but I am a full time college student and a mommy, so yeaaaah... But I will try my hardest! XD Take care and have a wonderful week XD**


	2. Chapter One

**Hey hey heeeeey XD New Chapie up for you guys! I am intentionally fleshing out Meryl and her world a little bit before proudly sending her off (actually shoving her XP) into the 18th century ;P Hope you enjoy XD As usual constructive criticism and reviews are always welcome XD AND OF COURSE, enjoy! **

**\\(^O^)/**

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**Previously in Chapter Zero:**

He was shocked to say the least. Sparring among the pupils was Meryl his childhood friend, looking fierce, powerful and intimidating with her killer moves. She was completely different to the Meryl he had grown up with who was shy and vulnerable. This Meryl was strong, centered, confident and, well… extremely beautiful. When they first met after all these years, Meryl had jumped into his arms in utter glee, something she would have never done. He was startled by her reaction but also thrilled beyond belief that she felt that way for him. It was comforting for him to know that after all these years of absence, he was still important to her.

After their first encounter, they started hanging out a lot like old times, reminiscing, playing video games, watching movies and simply chattering away. They met on a regular basis, so he was up to date with her life and so was she with his. She told him she was a war vet, gave him the overall picture of her Marine Corps life while sparing him of the gruesome details and he told her about his career as a programmer. However, the one topic that never was breached was their relationship status. As far as Kazuma could gather she was not in a relationship and she probably gathered that he wasn't in any as well.

"Sure, you can come crash at my place. I have a sofa bed in my living room." Kaz said with his boyish grin on his face.

Meryl looked at him, her blue grey eyes misting over with gratitude. She quickly looked away and cleared her throat to repel her emotions.

"It's getting late. Let's go get some dinner," he suggested perceptive of her mood, "I know that awesome Japanese restaurant just a few blocks away."

"Okay." Meryl smiled at him with gratitude.

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**CHAPTER ONE**

**~ Marine buddies versus friends ~**

It's been 4 weeks since Meryl crashed at Kazuma's apartment in Brooklyn and slowly she begun to hate it. Kaz was not the problem; in fact he made her stay so enjoyable and comfortable that he gave her space when she needed. He was a great help by being so generous and caring. The problem was she had nothing to do especially when Kaz was at work 5 days a week and sometimes until 8 PM. She had nothing to keep her busy other than delving herself in Kazuma's latest consoles and video games. No news from Master Kang by email, phone or through Kazuma and it had been only 4 weeks! She was going to die of restlessness and boredom!

She lived in Kaz's beautiful apartment made from a re-purposed warehouse which contained other separate apartments below them. When seeing his apartment from the outside for the first time, Meryl was expecting the worst. The weathered down faded red brick building built along a busy street stood imposing on this busy street looking miserable. Other than having many neat restaurants and stores nearby and a subway station right smack across, it left a lot to be desired. Its ugly exterior peppered with large clusters of industrial and lifeless windows did not seem to bode well.

However, she was oh so wrong. When she had set foot in his apartment, she was blown away and speechless. The entire upper floor belonged to him; it was one large spacious room which flowed into many intersections containing first entrance area, living room area with the kitchen built across the living area which then flowed into his closed bedroom. This entire spacious room stretched from one end to the next like one large rectangle. They entered from the end of the rectangle.

The interior was designed in a manner to show off the industrial red bricks while also complementing its rough exterior with the softness of the wood. Vanilla colored beams decorated the ceiling while also vanilla laminate wooden floors covered the entire apartment floor. All furniture was made of light colored wood, mixed with some medium colored ones. The colors of the fabrics such as curtains, towels, carpets, etc. remained along neutral colors along blues, blacks, browns, grays and whites with a random and unexpected pop of colors from couch pillows or the bedroom bed sheets. The bachelor pad was designed in a way that the focus of the spacious room was the intricacies of the rough red bricks harmonizing with the soft wood. But admittedly it lacked some feminine touch, especially some color and maybe some plants and maybe some life? Otherwise, it was a very visually appealing, sleek and modern apartment.

Anyway! Meryl couldn't believe her eyes and had to look at Kaz with disbelief. He laughed at her reaction, telling her everybody he knew reacted like her too. His older sister, Reina, had a hand in this. Designing the lay out and decorating the interior to meet his standards. He fought with her over the colors and they settled with keeping this neutral with an occasional pop of color.

They entered the room on the top floor and walked from one end of the room, walking through a large living area with soft black leather couches grouped towards a large furniture compromising of a book shelf with nice surround system, a large flat screen, rows upon rows of DVDs and video games and a few shelves dedicated to his precious consoles.

The windows were on the opposite wall shining into the direction of Kaz's treasure trove, but the distance of the flat screen to the windows was far away enough that it couldn't create a glare on the screen. They continued to walk to the extended part of the living room containing a dining table fit to host 8 people at least and across a splendid kitchen built with again a mix of soft light colored wood and black marble. Beyond the eating area was a closed area which was his bedroom with a King size bed more towards the right of the room while his desk filled with his other gadgets (an impressive PC with several screens which would make all gamers drool) was placed against the window on the left of the room.

It was a beautiful apartment. Meryl had of course nothing to complain about and she was grateful beyond belief for being able to stay there, it was pure luxury! But idling around, as a martial artist and a war vet, for 4 weeks was quite the torture.

One day, on a Friday evening of November, Kazuma unexpectedly arrived home at 4 PM. When he saw her in the living room couch going through some of his computer and gaming magazines, he gave her an even broader grin.

"Welcome back. You are early?" noted Meryl with a surprised smile.

"Got off of work because… I got a surprise for you."

Meryl placed the magazine back on the black coffee table and got up.

"Kaz… I think you have spoiled me enough." She chuckled with amusement while maintaining a modest expression.

He was really spoiling her too much and she felt guilty. Kaz waved his hand dismissively at her. He pulled out his mini IPad and handed it to her. Her eyes grew wide in disbelief and she gaped at him.

"Do you remember me telling you of that lodge that my parents own near the Adirondacks Mountains in Upstate New York?"

Meryl stared at him and back at the pictures on his IPad in front of her and nodded mutely as she was completely taken aback by what he was implying.

"Well, we will stay there for 2 nights. We will leave tonight, stay tomorrow night and leave Sunday afternoon."

"Are…are you serious?" she asked him meekly, unsure that she had heard him correctly.

He nodded affirmatively with a grin.

"The cooking is all taken care of and I hear the hiking trails are really nice around this time." He added.

It took a few moments for a smile to creep up on her face and when it did, she jumped into his arms with a squeal.

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It took them at least close to 2 hours to get to their location by car. They passed through the urban jungle of the New York state heading North and more in-land where cities gradually thinned out and grew sparse, hamlets of towns sprouted here and there, trees begun to appear as if invading human civilizations as they passed different counties. The farther they went the smaller towns, the greater number of trees and the more expansive the forest wildlife were and before you know it, snow-capped mountains with pockets of azure glistening lakes pooled at the bottom.

Finally, after ascending a winding gravel road, passing thicker and denser forests, they entered a clearing where a beautiful log cabin stood. It was built upon a clearing overseeing a glistening lake. The log cabin's appearance was a mix of traditional and modern, its top half consisted of the traditional logs laid out horizontally and crisscrossing each other at the corners of the house. The bottom half of the house was built with carved stone tiles, acting as a solid foundation to the house while also adding a modern twist to it. The way the roof arched and slopped, reminded Meryl of some of the traditional Scandinavian huts owned by Vikings. Large windows decorated the house on all sides even at the bottom stone foundation of the house. Kaz parked the car not too far off from the stone tiled patio which leads to the stone stairs behind the house and its grill and also into the lower floor of the house. They walked onto the patio with their luggage with Meryl still gaping at the surroundings and the log cabin.

The air was chilled, fresh and so pure. The smell of wet leaves, wet moss and wet ground mixed with burning wood lingered, autumn colors were apparent in the leaves of the trees, decorating the forests with batches of reds, yellows, browns and some barren branches. Soon, frosty weather will invade this territory making it inhabitable until the spring season. Kaz had picked a perfect time where nature was transitioning into the last stretch of autumn and preparing for the eventual onslaught of snow. The temperature dipped a little bit at this altitude and breathing was still comfortable.

Kaz opened the door with his keys and let Meryl step into the log cabin first. Meryl was once again blown away by the interior.

"The Maeda family sure knows how to decorate… Is it Reina's doing?" Meryl placed her hands on her hips, looking around her in awe.

Kaz chuckled.

"Yup, my family seems to innately have good taste, except me, but you are right, Reina did this."

The entirety of the interior design was made of the same logs re-purposed into the walls dividing the rooms, the furniture, wooden floors, kitchen layout, stairs, etc. except it was sanded down, smoothed out and lacquered. The rustic look was still intact except for some minor modern touches which were the modern appliances in the kitchen, its black marble counters and metallic fridge.

The immediate focus when entering the log cabin was the mountain backdrop poking out from the large wide windows in the living area. The shape of the log cabin was rectangular with its length facing the lake and mountains while its shorter sides had the book shelves, kitchen and one large fire place made of the coarse stone tiles. Surrounding the fireplace were dark leather couches with a coffee table at its center.

There was a second floor which had two separate bedrooms with one bathroom and another bathroom on the first floor.

Overall, it was best getaway in the world. Kaz had observed Meryl's awe with pleasure. He took off his shoes at the entrance as it was custom in Japanese tradition and went upstairs to drop off the luggage in their separate rooms.

It was already 8 PM by the time dinner had been served. Kazuma had prepared a traditional Japanese dinner, consisting of miso soup, a slice of lightly salted salmon, white rice and some stir fry vegetables.

"I am sorry there is no TV up here, except for a telephone line and Wi-Fi." Said Kazuma as he deftly finished plucking the last bits of salmon with his chopsticks.

They sat across from each other at the small oval dining table, enjoying the soft music in the background and the good food. Meryl smiled and waved her hand dismissively at him.

"I don't mind. I like being close to nature like this…" she said but then paused to reflect on the next sentence she uttered, "the best time I had in the Marine Corps was with nature… the beauty and harshness of it all - I adored it."

Kazuma watched her intently as her eyes had sunk to her dishes, finishing off the rice and salmon, with heaven forbid, a fork as it took her still too long to finish her meals with a chop sticks. His eyes took a serious air, studying with calculation while planning his next move. He seemed hesitant to pursue what he intended, but then he straightened his back, gathered his dishes together in front of him.

"Meryl."

She raised her eyes to meet his concerned but guarded brown eyes. Meryl knew that look, he was about to broach a serious topic.

"I know it is none of my business. Everybody takes a different path in life, but…" He began lowering his eyes temporarily on his dishes and then he raised his eyes clear with intention "Why didn't you come to me for help, when all this happened? My family and I would have helped you in a heartbeat."

Meryl's body tensed up. Why was her body even tensing up from her past? She did what she thought was right, she wanted to escape the hellhole she was in and came across the Marine Corps. Why cower in fear, disgust or hatred? She served her country, protected it and saved lives in Iraq. She has no regrets of her Marine Corps life, she learned more about being human than all the years she would have spent in college or work. Yes, she was scarred by it, yes she was still a bit on her toes by habit, but she was still Meryl, still a woman, still a human who survived the war on Iraq. She had gotten mentally and physically stronger. She was endowed with mixed martial arts that taught her to defend herself by any means necessary and to kill. She tamed that beast with Kung Fu which made her more at peace with herself. She learned the importance of life and also how vulnerable it was.

Meryl gathered her dishes and got up to place them in the sink. Kazuma got up and did the same. She began to wash the dishes as he leaned against the counter, looking at her.

"I'm sorry, Kazuma. I know that I could have and it would have meant the world to me," she sighed. "But I was an emotionally unstable and distraught teenager with no family anymore. I didn't want social services to intervene or have my mother take me in again. My mother… well, you know what she is like. So, I found my family among the Marine Corps, as simple as that."

She locked eyes with his earnest ones; she felt a growing tension emanating from his body.

"Every minute you spent with the Marine Corps, you could have died."

"Well, I didn't Kazuma, isn't that important?"

Kazuma sighed with a hint of annoyance in his tone, trying to keep himself centered and calm.

"Have you thought how this would have affected your friends, my parents and… me?"

Meryl in all honesty shook her head, keeping a straight face as she looked at him.

"No, how could I? I was just a teenager."

Kazuma locked his jaw, more irritation flowing through his body but he took another deep breath.

"Promise me that you won't do this again." He stated succinctly almost enunciating every word.

"Kaz-

-Promise me!"

Meryl's attempt to justify herself died, startled and bewildered by his sudden firm tone. She saw a storm of emotions brewing in his eyes although his facial expression and body language remained composed.

"I still cannot forgive you that you disappeared for 5 years without telling me." There was a hint of betrayal in his voice that only Meryl knew how to read "I… I thought we were friends, I thought you would trust me enough to tell me this, at least a letter, an email, a phone call for _fuck's sake_. Then you resurface 5 years later under Master Kang's tutelage and with an honorable discharge by the Marine Corps."

"Why are you bringing this up, Kaz? I moved on and so should you."

Kazuma huffed reproachfully at her statement and he drove his long fingers through his hair.

"Either the Marine Corps has desensitized you and crippled your basic social interactions or you have simply become dense – you had friends that cared for you before the Marine Corps even crossed your mind."

"Kaz! You are being unfair! I told you I was a distraught teenager, fresh out of high school!" she reprimanded him, standing her ground. "How can you expect any logic, common sense or understanding from _a teenager_? Why does this bother you so much?"

Kaz slammed his fist on the counter, silencing Meryl instantly. This was the first time Kazuma ever did this, which probably meant this argument will end soon with either one of them storming away. He took a deep shuddering breath to calm his nerves, his brewing brown eyes piercing hers in such intensity that she had difficulty keeping eye contact with him. Never. Never had she seen him this riled up like this.

"Why does it bother me so much?" he repeated with a strange calmness and forced ironic smile on his face. "Because, you made me - us - unworthy of your friendship. You chose to entrust the Marine Corps with helping you cope with the passing of your grandparents, your health and your problems over your actual friends that have been there much longer with you throughout your turbulent years. Most importantly, you have forgotten that people outside of the Marine Corps cared for you. You have no idea how much… _I cared for you._"

His piercing eyes vibrant with the most intense emotions she has ever seen in his eyes before, she finally saw the hurt in his eyes. He glanced one last time at her then he left her side and disappeared up the stairs and slammed the door shut of his room.

Meryl stood there, speechless, bewildered and shocked. His words stung her like a shower of bullets to her body, but she couldn't move or duck away from them. Every word was undeniably true. She scoffed ran her fingers through her long straight light blond hair and paced around. His petty words shall not affect her! She was a Marine for fuck's sake!

She mumbled to herself, replaying the words he said. She found herself going up the stairs and entered her room across of his. Her luggage had been neatly placed against her queen size bed. She threw herself on her bed, welcoming the comfort of the freshly washed sheets. She kicked off her pants, sweater, socks, and bra and now just clad in a long t-shirt and underwear, she buried her face into the bed.

After mulling over his words for what seems like hours. She finally felt the gravity of sleep, dragging her deeper and deeper into slumber land. Her ultimate conclusion at the end of this:

_Fuck this shit._


	3. Chapter Two

**Hiya, phew so tiiiiiired -.- Midterms are still going on, thankfully lot of the stuff I am studying now is related to U.S history and Native Americans, so I guess I am pretty lucky :P BUT thank you for reading my story, thank you for favoriting and following me. XD It makes me sooooooooooo haaaaaaappy~ This is another long chapter, we are getting there though, bear with me ;D Wish you all a wonderful weekend and week. Thank you again XD Comments, reviews are all welcome. ENJOY! XD**

* * *

**Previously in Chapter One: **

"Why does it bother me so much?" he repeated with a strange calmness and forced ironic smile on his face. "Because, you made me - us - unworthy of your friendship. You chose to entrust the Marine Corps with helping you cope with the passing of your grandparents, your health and your problems over your actual friends that have been there much longer with you throughout your turbulent years. Most importantly, you have forgotten that people outside of the Marine Corps cared for you. You have no idea how much… _I cared for you._"

His piercing eyes vibrant with the most intense emotions she has ever seen in his eyes before, she finally saw the hurt in his eyes. He glanced one last time at her then he left her side and disappeared up the stairs and slammed the door shut of his room.

Meryl stood there, speechless, bewildered and shocked. His words stung her like a shower of bullets to her body, but she couldn't move or duck away from them. Every word was undeniably true. She scoffed ran her fingers through her long straight light blond hair and paced around. His petty words shall not affect her! She was a Marine for fuck's sake!

She mumbled to herself, replaying the words he said. She found herself going up the stairs and entered her room across of his. Her luggage had been neatly placed against her queen size bed. She threw herself on her bed, welcoming the comfort of the freshly washed sheets. She kicked off her pants, sweater, socks, and bra and now just clad in a long t-shirt and underwear, she buried her face into the bed.

After mulling over his words for what seems like hours. She finally felt the gravity of sleep, dragging her deeper and deeper into slumber land. Her ultimate conclusion at the end of this: Fuck this shit.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

**~ Drama at the reunion ~**

The morning light trickled into the room from the windows on the right, bouncing off the lacquered walls and wooden floors. Meryl had of course no idea what time it was, but woke up from the gentle morning light bathing the room.

The smell of coffee wafted from under her door. She sat up groggily, looking around her, forgetting where she was for a moment. When she got up from her bed and went to the window, the sight brought her back to her senses. Then it all came back.

She was near the Adirondacks, in Mohawk valley to be precise. Her window faced back towards Kaz's parked car and the stone patio down below. Miles upon miles of forest stretched out everywhere, they were certainly cut off from civilization, _oh joy_.

Then she heard some movement coming from the end of the hallway. She heard the creaking of a closing water valve. Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably. It was Kaz.

It was her chance to confront him. She scrambled over to her luggage to take out a set of new clothes consisting of dark skinny jeans, a light blue polka dot buttoned up shirt which hugged her chest nicely and reached to her hips. She threw a black cardigan over and quickly barged out of her room to catch him before he entered his room.

"Kaz-" She called, her voice faltering to a squeak almost.

Right across from her grabbing the door handle of his room, stood Kazuma's just clad in a grey towel around his waist with his back facing her way. Meryl's eyes almost fell out of her eye sockets and her heart squeezed unpleasantly at the sight of him half naked. His naturally tan skin was smooth, his _broader_ and athletic back still glistening with left over water.

_Oh fuck… he really was a man after all._

He turned to her, his black tousled hair moving at the sudden jerk of his head. A surprised but slowly subdued expression countered her stunned expression.

"Morning." He greeted her calmly, intermittently keeping eye contact with her.

Meryl caught a glimpse of his toned torso and the outlines of six pack. _Oh fuck. _She swallowed uncomfortably.

"I am sorry, I shouldn't be walking around like this," he apologized suddenly, noting her wide eyed look in her face.

Meryl waved her hand dismissively with a chuckle, prying her eyes away from his body and focusing on his face.

"Don't-don't apologize! I am used to it - well not that way – you know, being a Marine and all."

She wanted to strangle herself! What the fuck was that!? She has countless times seen men in the Marine Corps parading themselves and their junk to the point that it shouldn't even affect her! Why the fuck is Kazuma's half naked body affecting her like she never saw such a beautifully sculpted body – oh for fuck's sake!

In Meryl's turmoil a small smile flashed across Kazuma's face with a glint of amusement and pleasure in his brown eyes.

"I'll go get dressed. Why don't you go downstairs, there is some freshly brewed coffee." He suggested back in his usual calm demeanor.

"O-okay."

He went into his room while Meryl walked down the stairs. She had to control herself! She has seen better bodies! She has been with, well, quite a few men in her lifetime with good looking bodies…

Why the fuck was she blushing and heart pounding like a virgin and _towards fucking Kazuma?!_

Maybe it was the fact that she never saw Kazuma as man, somebody that she could be attracted in a sexual sense. He was her friend from time immemorial, a brother more or less. Him and sex never EVER crossed her mind, but the moment that thought entered her mind, the wheels begun to turn. OKAY, NOPE, NOPE, NOPE, BEGONE VILE GUTTER MIND!

Time for some coffee!

* * *

Kazuma took his sweet time to come downstairs; he probably knew he shocked her with his, uhm, appearance. During that time she walked out onto the balcony that she hadn't noticed. It was conveniently and strategically built to have the lake and mountains as the backdrop. It was such a perfect sight. The chilly air brought on by the wind caressing the blue lake's surface helped to relax her and put her mind at ease.

She heard the sliding window move and without looking back to check, she spoke out.

"I was a very self-absorbed moping bitch when I decided to join the Marine Corps. I utterly disregarded you guys and I am truly sorry."

Kazuma appeared at her side with a mug of coffee in his hand, leaning with his forearms against the wooden railing of the balcony. She looked over at him, his brown gaze set on the breath-taking view.

"But I cannot undo what I did, nor can I change who I've become."

Kazuma released a breath, to release the left-over tension he felt.

"That's not what I was trying to say," he spoke calmly, still without looking at her. "I was angry that I – uhh - _we_, weren't worthy knowing your decisions… But, you did your thing and came back alive that is all that matters."

He finally looked in her direction, his almost black eyes gazing at her with certain warmth which affected Meryl's body. It has been a while since she felt that warming and caring sensation from another person just by the expression of a person's eyes. His boyish grin returned and he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Just promise me that you will warn me and the others before you do some crazy shit."

Meryl stuck her tongue out and chuckled.

"You won't see me doing anything crazier than the Marine Corps."

"Good." He pleasantly squeezed her shoulder and released it.

He resumed his posture, leaning his forearms against the wooden railing of the balcony while sipping on his coffee. Meryl joined him and they stood there in comfortable silence appreciating their surroundings and each other's company.

After eating a hearty brunch of hash browns, bacon, eggs, toasts and more coffee it was already 1 PM in the afternoon. Kazuma and Meryl had spent a nice time chatting away, but when Meryl was about to ask about their plans of today she heard the sound of crunching gravel followed by the humming of a motor.

She got up from the table and looked at Kazuma inquisitively.

"Are we expecting anybody?"

"Maybe." He shrugged nonchalantly, "Why don't you go check."

Meryl narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. When she heard the vehicles come to a halt she went down the steps towards the entrance and opened the door. Three separate cars, varying in different models and brands were parked close to Kazuma's. Meryl noted three women standing by the cars. She couldn't recognize them as they all had their backs turned towards her and were eagerly chattering, giggling and hugging each other.

Then one of them noticed Meryl, she broke into a run and threw her arms around Meryl into bone crushing hug.

"Guuuurl, where the fuck you been all these years?" squealed the dark skinned lady and she pulled back, flashing her bright big smile.

"Leesha?! Stephanie?! Gabriella?!" Meryl stammered in utter disbelief.

The two other women came up to her, one petite Chinese-American woman named Stephanie who hugged her excitedly followed by a tanned Hispanic woman named Gabriella.

All three women stood in front of her, beaming. She barely recognized them; they weren't anymore the kids she grew up with in school, well except for some of their characteristics. All of them matured and changed so much. Leesha's black hair wasn't braided anymore but wavy and glossy. She gained more curves and owned her assets with pride, but still dressed fashionably as always. Designer clothes were her thing. She wore dark skinny jeans, stiletto heels, and a silky blouse with a black suit jacket over it paired with a Guess hand bag. She loved wearing a red lip stick.

Stephanie on the other hand had acquired quite a cute feminine look; it made Meryl think of the fashion of Asian women that focused on cutesy, feminine clothes. It wasn't kitschy at all; on the contrary, it gave her straight frame more feminine traits. Her black hair had been dyed into a warm brown with its end curled into waves which elegantly fell in front just over her breasts. She wore a white blouse which had a bow around the collar, paired with a navy striped cardigan and a navy pleated skirt reaching her knees and she wore black wedges with these. She carried a black purse with her. The attention was drawn to her almond eyes, the eyeliner, mascara, shimmering peach eye shadow and pink lips. She had transformed to a cute but beautiful Asian beauty.

As for Gabriella who used to be teased for her weight, had shed all the pounds bringing forth with a vengeance a trim hour glass body. Her brown hair was straight but voluminous and thick. She wore a cat eye look paired with red lips. To highlight her svelte exterior she wore a form fitting burgundy dress with a black cardigan, wedges, and a dark purse. She had truly become an exotic beauty.

Meryl gaped at them all. How could all these years transform her friends that much to a point that she barely recognized them?

"Leesha, Mer barely recognized us at all." Said Gabriella in a snarky tone, crossing her arms with a raised eye brow.

"Well, I wouldn't blame her, you both have become raging Divas." Stated Stephanie matter-factly. "I am still the same."

"Steff, as if your get-up doesn't scream change either." Snorted Leesha with a wave of her manicured nails.

"Oh please, we have all become bitches anyway." Supplied Gabriella "Leesha is a lawyer, Stephanie is head of sales, and I am a dance instructor. Bitches for life."

Meryl laughed loudly and hugged all three tightly.

"I missed ma posse, but y'all seemed a little bit overdressed to see me."

Leesha huffed at Meryl and flicked her fingers at her.

"Honey, it is better to be overdressed for anything."

"Kaz said it would be a "reunion" of some sort, so yeah." stated Stephanie with a smile.

"Well, yeah, he had me convinced about the food, the booze and… men." Gabriella said with a wicked look in her eyes.

"Men?!" blurted out Meryl in bafflement.

"Uhuh, Kaz said some of your buddies from the Marine Corp would come."

"Uniformed men…" Gabriella practically swooned.

"Wha?!"

Meryl's heart sank with a mix of anxiety and insecurity, hearing that her past was coming back into the forefront again. On top of that, her friends seemed unfazed by her connection to the Marine Corps, they treated it as if they had known this for a while, which probably means _Kazuma told them_.

"Honey, you didn't know?" Leesha placed her hands on Meryl's shoulder.

"Uhh, well, uhh, I wasn't expecting any of this. Kaz just brought me here to his parents' log cabin yesterday."

The ladies exchanged a knowing look with each other, but Meryl disregarded their conspiring looks quickly as she was bothered by their casual acceptance of her past profession.

"You guys knew?"

"That you were a Marine?" Gabriella said flatly.

"Yup, Kazuma told us." Piped in Stephanie

"It's your life honey, do whatever you want. However, give us a heads up before you do something this crazy."

"Especially the kind that involves injury and death." Added Gabriella.

Stephanie and Leesha hissed at Gabriella's grounded response and she struck out her tongue at them.

Meryl watched their interactions, warmth spreading in her body and she smiled broadly that it began to hurt her cheeks. She did have friends after all.

Then she heard the raucous roar of a motor engines coming from the gravel road. First a pick-up truck, then a sports car and then an average sedan appeared. They parked in a way as to not block the other's car's passage.

Meryl's heart dropped as they all came to a stop. Then she saw one tall black man and two other tall white men come out of their cars. The one that came out of the pick-up truck was a tall white man clad in desert camouflage uniform with hat and buzz cut included, while the other two wore civilian clothes. They gave each other hearty hugs, quick exchange of words and when they saw Meryl, one outgoing male with striking sapphire blue eyes yelled.

"Lance Corporal Briar! Get your ass down here!"

"_Former_, you asshole!" shouted Meryl with a laugh and ran down to the dark haired male, who engulfed her in a bear hug.

They pulled back and the dark haired male offered her a cocky grin. His eyes looking at her from head to foot.

"Since when have you become a hot babe – Aah!" Meryl gave him a forceful chuckle after whacking the dark haired male in his shoulder.

"I see, as bitchy and strong as ever." Supplied the dark haired male, massaging the area of the shoulder she had smacked.

She batted her eyes at him and gave him a mysterious smile.

"You know me too well, Brian."

But she was genuinely happy to see them all.

"You gotta admit, Meryl, Brian is actually not wrong - this time." Added now the black male, accentuating the last part of his sentence implying Brian's gaffes in the Marine.

"Nice to see you too, Darren." She hugged him; he had to bend over to hug her as he was a basketball player height.

Darren and Meryl laughed hard, while Brian's face scrunched up with feigned annoyance.

"Come on, guuuys, Dave a little help."

The white male who stood behind them all, had kept his erect posture with his hands folded in front of him, walked over to Meryl. The marine lifestyle dominated his movements and speech.

"It's Master Sergeant Thompson to you, _Brian_." He addressed Brian in a stern voice and then smiled when seeing Meryl "Nice to see you too, Briar."

Before they even hugged they saluted each other.

"You are slouching and your posture and hand is off, I guess that happens when you leave the service." They hugged and Meryl scoffed.

"Still trying to correct all my mistakes."

"Old habits die hard, Briar."

"Well, I certainly didn't miss that when I left." She flashed him a forceful grin which he reciprocated with a grin.

She took notice of her other friends looking at them and Kazuma had recently joined them, talking idly.

"Men. I would like to introduce you to my friends." She rallied her Marines and ushered them in the direction of her school friends.

But she grabbed Brian by his arm almost vice like, to pull him back, away from her friends' earshot. She gave him a threatening look with a forced smile.

"Brian, these are my precious friends. If I catch you toying with them, like the player you are, I will _rip your fucking balls off_."

Brian gave her nervous chuckle.

"Heh heh, come on, Briar, it's been years since we've seen each other. Don't you trust me? After all what we've been through?"

Meryl kept eye contact with Brian with a nonchalant expression,

"May I remind who saved your ass after all your fuck ups? I did, it is because of me that you are still alive."

"Now, Meryl that is a little bit -

She broke out her wide grin.

"I am happy to see you too." She patted him on the back and then pushed him towards the group of friends.

Finally both her worlds met the Marines and her old school friends.

* * *

The remaining daylight hours were spent talking over coffee, tea and snacks. It was interesting the different pairings that formed and changed, but the two people that were inseparable was Darren and Stephanie. In Meryl's Marine Corps days, Darren always without a fail had a soft spot for Asian women. It spawned from his interest in the Miyazaki movies by the Ghibli studios then it evolved into animation. He didn't even look like a nerd which threw off so many people. He was good looking, sporty and active. His passion for Asian culture deepened further when he was temporarily, more likely willingly, stationed in Okinawa off the coast of Japan. Stephanie and Darren's conversations were fast paced and passionate.

Gabriella on the other hand was accosted by Brian who was trying his hardest to flirt and talk to her. He flashed his cocky smile, revealing his pearly white teeth and looked at her with his deep blue eyes. She remained guarded at all times, sometimes letting a smile and chuckles escape her lips. It was difficult to tell whether she was enjoying his company or just wishing to run away from him or possibly wanting to strangle him.

Leesha was left out, but that didn't seem to bother as she started many fascinating discussions which mostly got Master Sergeant Thompson interested. Well, at least Leesha was getting attention in some way, so that should keep her happy.

Overall, everybody got along with each other. Kazuma ensured that the atmosphere remained jovial by navigating between the different guests, acting like an attentive host. In all the chatter that happened, everybody told things about themselves. Darren was finishing up his grad studies to become a teacher. He had decided he would teach English in Japan, he was not sure whether he would be a private tutor or a public school teacher. David Thompson had made it his goal that he would climb the ranks, he jokingly said, until it kills him, but he showed interest in settling down as well. Brian on the other hand, had become an entrepreneur, self-employed and starting up an investment firm specializing in car parts. Meryl did remember her ears growing numb from his constant rambling about cars during her Marine days.

Meryl's school friends all were deeply vested into their careers. Stephanie was planning to climb up the ladder in the sales department and eventually take over the firm she worked in. Meryl always knew about Stephanie's ambition and drive, as she was constantly striving for high grades, it made her sometimes so obstinate to the point that they had to literally wrestle her away from her books so that they could hang out. Leesha with her strong sense of justice and fiery character took down gangs of criminals in court with barely breaking a sweat. She was in essence a power woman and a good role model to women, proving that women are as capable as men. She even added partly in joke that when she had her own firm she would hire just women to prove that they were as capable, fierce and intimidating as men. As for Gabriella, before becoming a dance instructor for the prestigious School of American Ballet in New York, she had enrolled as a student there and over time impressed the instructors so much that she became their assistant and now she was a certified instructor there. She has expressed doubts about continuing as instructor and would rather become independent, dancing in front of spectators.

Lastly, Kazuma was recently promoted to lead programmer of a gaming firm. They were currently working on a game which was still quite hush-hush, so he couldn't elaborate more. Of course, his ambition was to branch off and have his own programming firm.

As Meryl heard all their accounts, she grew more and more self-conscious and insecure. All these people in front of her, old school mates and marines, all were conquering the world with goals in mind, driven by their ambitions, while she… was stuck in limbo, dabbling in martial arts. They all graduated from college, she didn't, they all were doing what they loved, but she wasn't, they found their identity and their purpose, while she didn't. What has she exactly accomplished by assisting Master Kang's martial arts school, other than learning Kung Fu and becoming more centered?

Their achievement in comparison to hers rendered anything she did insignificant and worthless. She felt so inferior, so incompetent and stupid in their presence that she withdrew from their conversations.

"You all right?" Kazuma's baritone and calm voice drew her attention.

He stood beside her, both of them leaning against the kitchen counter and surveying their chattering friends.

"I'm fine." She prompted a little too quickly.

"_Sure you are_."

She didn't respond to him immediately and took a hearty swig from the liquor; it appears she had opted for the strongest liquor as it momentarily made her head buzz.

"Fuck, that's some strong shit." She mumbled disdainfully and eyed the remaining content of her cup.

"I am kinda surprised you went straight for the vodka." Mentioned Kazuma, looking at her from the sides. "I gather you are pissed."

Meryl released an amused snort.

"Kaz, there is nothing wrong with enjoying a strong drink."

"There isn't, but judging from your habits you do that when something is pissing you off or bothering you."

This time Meryl looked up to meet his brown eyes despite their close proximity. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, their arms just barely touching each other, it felt electric.

"I _hate_ how much you know me." She told him straightforwardly, snapping her attention in his direction and narrowing her eyes with defiance and her tone displeased.

The alcohol was turning her into a bitch, but she didn't care, Kazuma was far too nosy and assholic at times. He kept his head turned to the side and looked down at Meryl's stormy eyes. He challenged her defiant look with his composed nonchalant expression, which has always angered her and this time it angered her more than usual.

"Well, I _hate it_ too sometimes."

She locked her jaw to prevent herself from lashing out at him and possibly breaking his nose too. But then she saw a glint in his eyes, and his lips curved slightly with confidence, something had amused him… and it struck her. He was actually testing her patience!

"You are such an asshole, Kaz."

"Glad you remembered." He countered with a cocky glint in his eyes and small curve of his lips.

The liquor began to wear down all her inhibitions and fed her growing anger towards herself and a little towards Kazuma. Her tipsy mind, yes tipsy, she wasn't too drunk enough to be incoherent and stupid. A rather naughty side of her wanted to get back at Kazuma big time. Kazuma always played well the generous, caring, helpful friend at all times, but he had that one side that surfaced whenever they engaged in any form of banter. He could be a straight up asshole and he needed a taste of his own medicine. Her impulse took a hold of her.

All common decency flew out the window; she yanked him down by the collar of his shirt and crushed her lips against his in a burst of passion. She pulled away and backed away from him fast enough before he could register what just happened. He was utterly stunned, his lips parted and breathless. It was a perfectly timed ambush and Kaz did not see it coming. His brown eyes were wide. He couldn't process what just happened. Meryl backed away from him with her palms raised and bearing a triumphant smile.

"Who is the asshole now." She turned away and joined her friends around the coffee table, leaving Kaz bewildered.

Nobody seemed to have noticed what had happened between her and Kaz, that's what she would like to believe, but only one person saw this and it did not sit well with him at all.

* * *

The only two people that didn't drink any alcohol was Kazuma and Master Sergeant Thompson, Kazuma was the host and felt obligated to remain sober and Thompson was being deployed the next day to Afghanistan. He also had to leave earlier, but before he did, he took Meryl aside to speak to her privately. Meryl was luckily still tipsy and coherent.

"Briar, I got something for you." Thompson said as he gently pulled her aside, away from the boisterous chatter.

They walked to the other end of the living area. He had a relaxed smile on his face, which was quite rare since he was known to be hard-ass, he handed to her a sheathed combat knife.

"A little reminder of the ol' days."

Meryl's eyes went wide in wonderment; she gingerly held the combat knife feeling the weight. It was a Ka-Bar, a combat knife that was first used by the Marine Corps in the 1940s. Due to its practical and sturdy nature it has become a staple weapon and tool for all armed forces.

She pulled the knife out of its leather sheath. The body of the blade was composed of non-corrosive carbon steel with its color being of a dark matt grey, perfect for camouflage. The hilt was made of a rubber, non-stick material, equally sprayed dark and matt to ensure no reflection was created. That was very important especially during stealth missions; any form of reflective surfaces would give away the soldiers position. The knife's total length was 11 inches (~30cm) with its blade being 7 inches long (~17cm). It was a single edged blade, and overall the perfect tool and weapon.

She held the knife in her hand, feeling the weight, and the grip. She expertly swung the knife, feeling it slash through the air with ease. It was an amazing knife. No scratches, no dents, completely new. Then she spotted something engraved on the sharp side of the knife.

_Strength is in the bearer_

It was maybe a bit cliché, but as a Marine away from home, stationed near a battlefield or in the midst of one, any form of encouragement or empowerment made a difference to a soldier's mind. Soldiers had to find something to cherish, even if it was a cheesy quote, to help them carry through all the hell they've been through. As Meryl let the quote sink into her system, a strong desire of unworthiness sprouted from the doubts it created in her. She replaced the knife back into its leather sheath and handed back to him.

"David… I can't accept this." Said Meryl suddenly, her tone quiet and affected by her thoughts.

Thompson noticed her sudden change in behavior, he shook his head at her and pushed the knife in her direction, closing her fingers around it.

"You've earned it. Those old bastards gave you an ungrateful and ugly send-off."

"I am not a Marine anymore, David."

"There is no such thing as an ex-Marine."

Meryl stood there quietly, letting the words sink in. He was right you know. She became a better, albeit somewhat damaged, human being through the Marine Corps. In essence, the Marine Corps brought out her true potential, her amazing strengths and true character. So why shun that experience? Everybody took a different path in life, and she has her own to find.

_Strength is in the bearer._ How true it was, how stupidly so. The person matters more than the weapon, because the person is the one wielding it. Life was like this combat knife, its wielder will choose what to do with it. This is Meryl's life, she will find a way, and she always did.

"I needed this." She mumbled her voice quiet and now emotional.

Thompson huffed with amusement.

"Your friends are all overachievers, including myself" Then he lowered his tone, showing empathy in his behavior but also concern in his olive green eyes. "But not so many of us, armed forces, have managed to fully embrace civilian life again. They will always feel out of place and left out due to their experiences. The government has numerously failed taking care of our own. Without a proper support system that loneliness and despair pushes them to the brink of insanity and death."

Thompson showed a very concerned and affected side of his that Meryl rarely saw and it usually happened when one of their unit members died. Then his eyes narrowed with earnest, piercing hers without wavering.

"Briar, I was deeply worried when they discharged you so abruptly." He told her, his genuine sincerity and honesty coming forward, "I... I really thought the worst would happen…but I am relieved beyond words that you found something to do with your life. Whatever you have found, it has calmed you down and given you peace."

Before Meryl could properly react, Thompson's hard-ass demeanor returned as he waved his index finger threateningly close to her face.

"Now, Briar if I find you misusing that knife, I will _fucking slit your throat with it. _Am I understood?"

Meryl swallowed uncomfortably. He was fucking scary when he was angry. He channeled all the fury of his fiery Irish ancestry in one scolding. The memories of him being pissed off when she screwed up in mid-mission still haunts her.

"Geez, David, just chill. You know you can trust me, but I know who could use that threat, Mister-Fuck-Up over there."

After a tense exchange of eye contact between Meryl and Thompson, their sympathetic airs returned and they chuckled as they looked in the direction of Brian.

"Are you fuckers talking about me again?" shouted Brian from across the room with a pout, he was drunk but still coherent.

Thompson and Meryl exchanged a grin with each other and returned to the group of friends.

"So, what if we did, Brian." Said Meryl with a wicked glint in her eyes and directed her attention to her female friends. "If you want _ladies_ I can give you a laundry list of Brian's best fuck ups."

"You wouldn't dare!" Brian bounced out of his seat, horrified.

Meryl's female friends cheered and "oooh"ed with excitement. She challenged him with her wicked smile. As Brian saw she was not backing down, he decided not to let her affect, because he too had a laundry list. On top of that these arsenals would ensure a ripple of destruction.

"Oh yeah!" he mused, his body language showing defiance and intent, "Should I tell them how you spied on Drill Sergeant Cameron when he showered?"

A bursts of scandalized squeals erupted from Meryl's female friends. Meryl's face turned brick red from embarrassment and anger. She glared at Brian's cocky face.

"You mean Drill Sergeant Jack Cameron – that blondie player?" Thompson verified and when Meryl's face confirmed it was him, the shock turned to disgust and eventual disapproval.

Meryl turned to look in his direction and bit her lip.

"David, he was _fucking hot..._"

"Honey, I never thought you were that naughty." chuckled Leesha, quite surprised and amused by Meryl's naughty side.

"Gee, gurl, you make me wanna join just for that." Gabriella added with a laugh. "Did you guys fuck?"

"GABRIELLA!" called out Stephanie as she was the voice of reason and she felt it was an inappropriate topic to talk about in public.

Meryl looked in Gabriella's direction mouthing "I wish I could have" with a swooning expression on her face. The redness remained in Meryl's flushed cheeks but now it was time to strike back and she eyed Brian.

"I can also talk about how many times you spied on the women (including myself) bathing outside too, especially during missions, and maybe jerking off here and there but I got a better one." The wickedness was shining brightly in her eyes. "I caught you dropping David's toothbrush down the toilet almost on a regular basis whenever he scolded you."

"WHAT?!" roared Thompson, "I should have known! No wonder the bouts of sickness!"

Brian's face had gone pale with fear and he swallowed nervously.

"If it is any comfort, I stopped after a few months so-

-Mother fucker! All of this will come back to you, I _swear_!" interrupted Thompson with a hiss, his murderous glare making Brian cower.

Meryl's female friends laughed so hard that it just simply lightened the mood. Kazuma had actually begun laughing at Brian. Darren was also enjoying this being the first one to cheer and add sound effects. But Brian was not enjoying it entirely giving everybody a forced smile, although he was planning this ahead. In the distraction of the laughter, he managed to get behind Meryl and hugged her from behind.

She tensed up from the unexpected advance and physical contact. He had his arms laced around her stomach while he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doing, Brian. I _advise_ you to let me go."

His move had garnered the attention of everybody in the room, but someone in the room had gone completely rigid with tension seeing Brian so physically close to Meryl.

"In a moment, I am just reminiscing." He said with his smooth seductive voice tickling her neck and ear.

Meryl gave him an uninterested and annoyed look. Brian's scheme was working; he saw Kazuma's jaw looking tense and his eyes brewing.

"You were a great fuck."

An explosion of "whaat", "eeww", "TMI" and "really, man?" erupted from the mouths of everybody except Kazuma and Meryl. She jerked her head in the direction of Brian, still caught in his embrace and now peeved at him.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you remember us celebrating after the success of operation Red Hand?"

"Vaguely, but not really."

"We had drunk sex." He said smugly and Meryl burst out in laughter.

"Drunk sex? Pff ahahahahaha! Us?! I would have to be more than drunk to get to the point of having sex with you, Brian."

A greater smug expression appeared on his face, he leaned his lips close to her ears. Kazuma's patience was wearing thinner and thinner.

"Come on, you don't remember when Thompson caught us sleeping in my bed the next day?"

Meryl went quiet and when she looked in the direction of Thompson he avoided her eyes. Her stomach dropped unpleasantly.

"The fun part was," Brian continued loud enough for everyone to hear, the smugness now becoming overbearing. "The entire time you thought somebody else was fucking you, let me see, who it was again…"

The tension in the room was suffocating right now and Meryl was paralyzed from embarrassment and shock.

"Something with K… Oh yes! Kazuma! Kazuma fuck me!"

The humiliation was excruciating to the point that Meryl could barely react to it. She had no tears; they had dried years ago. She was embarrassed and humiliated. She was angry, boiling up with rage. She couldn't believe she slept with that womanizing piece of shit and secondly feeling disgusted about her calling out Kazuma's name during sex. Why… why would Brian resort to something this vile? Exposing her most vulnerable moments with little regard to herself and the others? However, Brian abruptly let go of her after a strong force collided with him propelling his body to the ground.

"You fucking asshole!" growled an enraged Kazuma, restrained by Darren who was trying to calm him down.

"Brian, that was completely left field, man!" said Darren disapprovingly.

Brian was sitting on the floor with a bloody nose; he touched his nose and looked at the blood on his fingers. Rage enflamed his body and he pounced in Kazuma's direction. Kazuma had managed to slip out of Darren's grip. Now they were both set into a collision course, but it never happened.

Meryl had managed to grab their oncoming flying fists and twist them deftly behind their backs so that they were now facing outwards and Meryl in-between them. They both released a yelp of pain feeling the bone and muscle twisting unnaturally. If she added anymore pressure she could probably dislocate their shoulder and break a bone. She waited until the boys breathing was more spaced out; their anger dissipated and was distracted by the strain on their shoulder and arm.

"I assume you have both calmed down." Meryl said in a strangely calm voice, and then she tightened her grip earning yelps from the men. "Will you stop fighting after I let you go?"

"YES! We will!" both men in sync pleaded, she abruptly released them.

They massaged their wrist and rolled their shoulder to get the tension out. Meryl didn't look at the men or anybody just straight in front of her.

"I don't give a shit what happened in the past, but if I catch you two fighting one more time, I will not hesitate to send you both to the hospital with multiple fractures." She stated. "Now will you excuse me, I need some fresh air – alone."

She turned around, headed down the stairs grabbed her jacket and left the log cabin.


	4. Chapter Three

**Heeeeeeeeey guuuuuuuuuys... Sorry for the delay my professors have this sick obsession with messing with my life. ;_; Now it is really crunch time for me before the semester ends with all dem essays, projects, colds and bouts of cranky 2 year old . But I am surviving, but in case I don't make it here is a new Chappie, yaaaaaaaaaaaay. It is shorter, but I promise you the next one will be BIG (I don't think I have ever written such a long chapter ever since being on fanfiction net... .) ANYWAY! I must say I am absolutely excited about this new fanfic XD Hope you are too ;) Enjoy and comments, criticisms are always welcome. Have a wonderful week! XD**

**PS: Oh yes I forgot to mention. A reader kindly pointed out that I messed up Meryl's height in the conversion T.T The horror... Math never was my strong suit (ma brain don't like numbas .), so yeah from here on out to avoid more screw ups, we will stick with feet, inches, yards, miles and all that jazz. Meryl**** is 5ft8 by the way XD**

**On with the show!**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

**~ A teaser ~**

Meryl stormed out of the house with the chilly air hitting her like needles. She stopped in her footsteps and looked back at the log cabin. She exhaled, her steamy breath dissipating in the darkness and coolness of the night. What the fuck was that all about? Brian and Kazuma almost killing each other over her? She guessed that Kazuma felt protective of her and therefore lashed out on Brian (that asshole had it coming anyway) and that Brian was probably purposefully provoking Kazuma or anybody for that matter. Meryl was always aware of Brian's feelings, it never was a secret the way he spoke to her and looked at her. All her units knew that Brian was interested in her. The odd thing about Brian, was his lack of communicating his feelings to her. Either he was too cowardly to tell her, too dense to realize his feelings for her or he was just messing around. So, it was difficult to take him seriously and despite the one night they shared together - it did not mean by a long shot - that she was interested in him. She knew too much about him to a painful degree like a sibling would.

She knew that Brian's attitude tonight was a product of his jealousy. Admittedly, Kazuma knew her better than Brian aaaand he was a good catch with his new fit and healthy exterior. Brian might have seen Kazuma as a potential threat and maybe he saw the kiss earlier, which probably annoyed him. But, it was rather strange to see Kazuma angry like this. Things rarely set him off like that, so whatever Brian had said and done to her must have angered him a lot.

She grumbled to herself and turned away, walking in the direction of the lake. A bright outside light shone in the direction of the lake to ensure the safe walk to the lake and also to ward off potential animals. She walked down a sloping dirt path until she felt the pebbles and sand scrunching under her boots. The shore of the lake was made of a mix of soil, sand and pebbles with occasional washed up branches. The surface of the calm lake was pitch black and motionless. It had almost an eerie and ominous presence, but the clear night sky and cool breeze alleviated the atmosphere of the lake.

The almost frosty breeze felt nice against her hot face, cooling down the anger and emotions. A storm was brewing inside her; the insecurities she felt earlier emerged again, mocking her life and her situation. An existential crisis occurred within her, questioning what she was doing with her life, was she truly happy as a Kung Fu instructor… was she happy on her own or even at all?

She grabbed a pebble, caressing the smooth surface and looked out to the dark lake and the surrounding dark forest. Nature was the only entity that did not judge. In all her survival missions whether it was in the forests in boot camp, the arid deserts, and Steppe of Iraq – nature was at times cruel and unpredictable but other times forgiving and steadfast.

She locked her jaw with a spark of anger memories in the log cabin and her present thoughts flooding her body and with a grunt threw the pebble which skipped a few times over the motionless surface of the lake.

For an indeterminate time she stood there, watching intently the ripples dissipate. A sense of loneliness and despair overcame her. Was her life going to dissipate and be as insignificant as these ripples disappearing into the depths of the black water?

She kneeled down, combing through the scattered pebbles with her fingers. She felt the gentle poke of the combat knife's sheath. Thompson had added a loop at the pommel of the knife to tie a leather string around it. She had it now around her neck. She took the knife out of its sheath and held it in her hand. She decided to test it and familiarize herself with it. She rammed the knife into the stony sand and begun to mindlessly dig up a hole.

A loud splash erupted.

Meryl jumped to her feet assuming a fighting stance with her combat knife drawn. Her eyes darted across the lake's surface until she saw where the splash originated from. A big fat log had emerged in her line of sight, rolling in the waters. It was still far away by several yards. Where had it come from? The splash occurred almost 10 yards off shore, away from any forest. She looked around finding no sudden forest drop off or deposits of logs. A rotting log resurfacing from the depths was highly unlikely unless it was completely hollowed out.

A loud crack followed by the rumbling of the skies occurred, sending Meryl into a defensive crouching position. The sky was still clear and undisturbed but the atmosphere was tense. Imminently something was going to happen, Meryl sensed it.

A ball of crackling electricity burst out of thin air, sending a jolt of shockwave in the direction of Meryl. She yelped by the surprise of the shockwave, grounding her legs and feet to the ground. The sphere expanded dangerously above the surface where the floating log had been just a few seconds ago.

The now 6 foot wide sphere of electricity then plopped into the water like an iridescent marble, emitting a glow within its proximity. Agitated waves lapped against the shore. Meryl's heart was on overdrive and her adrenaline surged anticipating a fight or flight.

A deafening silence ensued instead.

Meryl remained crouched, steadying her breathing, the combat knife close to her face and ready to strike. It had gone silent too quickly. The waves were almost calm and pleasant. After a few tense moments, Meryl stood up with her combat knife still drawn.

"What the fuck just happened?" she mumbled, her senses still heightened and her voice cautious.

Then she saw something.

From experience she leaped behind a large washed up tree trunk, pressing her back, hunkered down away from the threat. She looked in front of her, trying to take deep breaths to study her erratic breathing. She gripped the hilt of her knife tightly with her heart hammering. She peered through the branches, seeing a dark outline gliding through the lake noiselessly, veering off to the right of her location.

Meryl thought it was just another piece of log, but the way it glided through the water with barely leaving a wake behind or any noise was intriguing. It didn't even look like an otter, beaver or duck. It made no sudden moves and just swam quietly and efficiently.

Her heart squeezed unpleasantly at the now apparent outlines.

Now she recognized a hooded head emerging. The figure pushed the hood back revealing dark hair. When the individual touched down in the shallow water, the body started to gradually emerge out of the water.

It was definitely the body frame of a man, as the figure's body was toned and broad with defined strides. Finally, the man stood on the stony shore, his profile was somewhat illuminated by the lights from Kazuma's log cabin. A tanned and smooth face, with deep set eyes, a flattened nose (somewhat reminding Meryl of Kazuma's nice nose) and a pair of well proportionate lips which did not detract from his grave demeanor. He had a permanent frowning expression on his face as his forehead bore many deep-set lines.

He drove his half gloved broad fingers through his dark brown hair and undid whatever was holding his hair together. It fell down in a soppy messy. He appeared to be relieved that the water acted like a smoothing agent to tame his wild hair. He drove his fingers over his head, to flatten his hair and tie it behind his head.

Those were the strangest clothes that Meryl had ever seen. The outfit was a long white coat that reached below his knees with its inner linings in a dark blue. The front buttons were lined with the same blue lining which looked more faded than the interior. The coat had split tails which were lined in the same faded dark blue which flapped after him as he walked up the bank. She couldn't see the intricacies of the coat, but it looked durable and armored with coarse layers to protect his forearms. She saw he wore dark pants with probably elk leather and fur wrapped, tied and sewn together to create boots reach up his thighs. He had that curious reddish orange sash tied around his waist with some claw crane shaped belt buckle strapped over it.

She gathered he was one of those badass survival hunters living off the land, as his attire was largely made from animal skin. But the manner that he carried himself, it was furtive but with determined heavy strides, with his back habitually hunched from the developed muscles he had in his shoulders, back and chest.

Meryl was no stranger in analyzing people's appearances, body language, behaviors and their habits. Being in the Marine Corps it was all about understanding the intricacies of the enemies, almost getting to know them like you were one of them. It was all about being a few steps ahead of the enemy. Ever since she joined the Marines she stopped underestimating people, because once you did that, it spelled doom. Her gut instincts and Marine training told her not to underestimate that hunter.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she finally identified a bow and arrows strapped to his shoulders. (Who the fuck still hunts with bow and arrow nowadays?) She swallowed uncomfortably when she spotted the gleaming and sharp outline of a hatchet. The shape of that hatched made her think of a Tomahawk for its portability and obviously light weight as he had it tied at his side. But the blade was so oddly shaped like a 2 dimensional flat cone.

The man came to a halt at a washed up bough just a few feet from the water. He had been carrying something in his left hand and he placed it against the bough. It seemed he had taken a tumble when getting into the water, he sighed as he was trying to release the tension in his neck area and shoulders. He turned a little bit in Meryl's direction, so that ¾ of his face was revealed.

She gaped in a mix of awe and curiosity. He was actually, not that bad looking, from the profile he was okay, but now that she saw a huge chunk of his face clearly, he was… well good looking. He was also exotic, something that she hadn't seen before. He had some Asian features, his lightly slanted eyes, wide face, dark and thick hair, flattened nose which was wider at the bottom. His tanned and rugged skin, however, was a product of him being outdoors all the time. She saw the wrinkles, the frown lines on his forehead more clearly now. Either the sun caused these wrinkles on his forehead or he was an intense person. Other than being weather worn, his eyes and face showed experience, _a lot of it - _much like "a war changes as man" face. The cold and detached look of his hazel brown eyes while intriguing, were also a sign that he was suspicious. Telling his age was difficult, he was certainly between 20 and 30, but with Asians you never know, they were forever young until they hit a secret magical number and then BAM – short, stout and ailing Asian elders.

Meryl stopped her analysis to get a broader picture of him.

Then it hit her.

Pieces came together, he was part Asian, or that's what she thought he was, until his appearance, gait, clothing and weapons came together.

"A Native American." She mumbled with realization.

They were after all in Mohawk valley, an old county part of Upper New York State that was once inhabited by the Mohawk tribes. Maybe there was a reserve nearby?

But his costume or attire really threw her off. The split tail long coat and the traditional Native American garb underneath it from the waist down – it had such a costume-y feel to it that on one hand it looked a little a ridiculous and outdated while on the other hand it had a serious edge to it. However, Meryl couldn't escape the feeling that she saw that attire before, but from where…?

She had to admit that while his clothes could look like straight out of a comic convention, it strangely suited him well. He looked like a badass hunter and the tight fit highlighted his masculine body, oh so nicely.

She heard the crackling and zapping of electricity. She gasped quietly. Meryl looked around trying to find the source, but found it came from this man. Currents of electricity zapped around his body. Even though he looked at his arms, adjusting his clothes, he didn't even react or seem to notice the electricity lashing out.

Meryl had to narrow her eyes and rub them, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her. Maybe she still was tipsy from the vodka. The electricity was affecting his immediate vicinity, distorting the background like taking a strong magnet to an old computer screen. Meryl gasped from this unnatural, sci-fi occurrence and in her carelessness moved too hastily causing the pebbles to collide and smack under her feet.

She froze, her heart stopped.

She dared not to move or peer over the knocked over trunk. It was a quiet again, even too quiet. She had hunkered down behind the trunk in an effort to make herself small and unnoticeable. But of course she had to look, to make sure he wasn't charging at her or throwing his tomahawk towards her. Who would want to die by a hatchet? It made her cringe and sent shivers down her spine, the thought of a hatchet hacking a human into pieces like butcher, made her stomach squirm.

The silence was very unsettling, she had to check. She pulled out her knife, gripped it tightly close to her face and assumed a crouching position. She took a few deep breaths, steadying her nerves and breathing while also getting back in touch with her Marine self. With the help of her hands she hoisted herself up to her feet, using the rickety poking branches sprouting from the trunk.

THWACK!

_Oh Shit!_

Meryl screamed and fell back on her butt, seeing the tomahawk imbedded in the location if she had stood up on her toes and peered over the trunk.

_Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck!_

Her combat knife had ejected out of her hand. In her whimpering breaths she frantically searched for the knife with her eyes and hands in the dimness. The light of Kazuma's log cabin was devoured by the density of the forest. Fortunately, she found the knife a few feet behind her to her right. She crawled with frenzy, grabbed it and fell on her back, ready to use if he jumped her.

She heard the approaching weighed footsteps, crunching the pebbles and then a sudden pause. Meryl gripped her knife harder, readying herself for an ambush.

Meryl shrieked when he appeared on top of the large knocked over trunk with a resounding thud, knees bent to cushion the landing. That man had jumped onto that thick and large trunk as if it was a tiny hurdle. He yanked the tomahawk and held it in his hand, ready to throw it again. He glowered down in her direction, his brown eyes piercing, emotionless and cold like those of an expert killer. Again the electricity licked his body with him remaining unperturbed by it. But the combination of a killer about to pounce Meryl and his body coursing with electricity paralyzed Meryl with fear.

He remained like this staring straight at her for a few moments. Meryl's heart had stopped beating and she had stopped breathing.

Then he looked around and over her, with a cautious and suspicious look on his face the frown deepening more in his face. The tension that was in his face gradually dissipated although he still kept his guarded look. He looked back at Meryl only briefly before checking his surroundings one last time. He sighed, shrugged to himself and hopped down from the trunk. She heard his footsteps receding.

Meryl took a gasp of breath remembering that she had forgotten to breathe. Bewilderment beyond belief governed her senses… Did he even see her? Why didn't he attack her? Or ask who she was and what she was doing?

He did not acknowledge her appearance, as if she did not even exist. She looked down to herself and around her. Unless he was extremely blind, which she gathered he wasn't, he _should have noticed her_! For fuck's sake she was the only human being around!

She got up to her feet quietly and snuck back behind the trunk. The man was back in his place near the smaller tree trunk, making adjustment to his boots and squeezing out the remaining water from his clothes. Meryl looked at the area where the tomahawk had been embedded in. She felt the cleft and splinters it left behind in the trunk and she swallowed uncomfortably. The damage his tomahawk left was real yet he didn't even see her?!

Meryl decided to watch him so more from behind the trunk. Her thoughts were in a mess from just escaping death but also in mass confusion about his lack of reaction towards her. He was real…right? His tomahawk left an indent, so he should be real, right?

It was strange, after seeing him in his killer mode and escaping death, Meryl's curiosity got the best of her. Maybe if she followed him she might be able to figure out who he was. Oh wow, there she goes perpetuating the most over used plot lines in the history of stories and movies. A foolish character goes against his better judgment and follows blindly his curiosity which either brings him to a good place or kills him. A real person would have made a run for it, gone home and called the police, but she was Meryl, a strange breed.

The only difference here was that Meryl had some combat training and learned how to kill, and she knows Kung Fu. She was no damsel in distress and she had many tricks up her sleeve. Being a woman, a Marine and a martial artist was deadly but an effective advantage. Let's not forget that she was also armed with her combat knife.

However, her Marine instincts told her not to follow her impulse as she had no back up and no plan, it would be wiser to head back.

She looked back at the Log cabin, picturing her friends drinking, chattering and laughing without her. It angered her just the idea of joining them again. Not only was Kaz and Brian's drama a hindrance and a turn off, but so where the rest of her friends. All of them had their future so perfectly carved out while she was in limbo, stuck in time and place without knowing where to go. She didn't want to return to her Marine life although the temptation was always there, but the betrayal she felt after all she had done for the Marine Corps became an endless obstacle. It was thankfully a great deterrence. Master Kang saved her, gave her a home, food and a job – she was forever indebted and grateful to him, but… she wanted to do something more meaningful with her life and she didn't know what it was.

Her eyes looked one last time to the log cabin and then turned with commitment and determination in the direction of the man.

But he was gone!

She jumped up to her feet, kept the knife in her hands and snuck over to the area he had been. The area was undisturbed, not even a pebble unturned or shrubbery trampled. It was like he was never there! It scared her how good he was, too good for her liking. Her tipsy brain told her to follow him through the entrance of the dark and dense forest, but she paused with hesitance. Her heart constricted painfully with apprehension. She glanced at the Log cabin then looked at the forest. The towering skeletal trees and the darkness of the wilderness had begun to make her uneasy. It was not safe, especially not at night. Bells went off in her, her Marine training shouting an immediate resounding "NO!"

All of a sudden nature went silent. Not even the sound of critters, or hooting owls, or even the rustling of leaves or branches was heard. Meryl knew this silence, as she had encountered this situation before. Something had disrupted nature and it was usually an enemy.

Meryl felt nervous now, something was not right. Her burning curiosity extinguished instantly by the unnatural silence. She backed away cautiously; something told her to leave this area immediately. She changed her mind and walked into the direction of the log cabin.

A series of wolf howls erupted 10 yards behind her.

Meryl's heart dropped and her body propelled itself into flight mode. It has been too long since she felt that familiar paralyzing dread. It only appeared whenever she was on the battlefield where her life was always at risk. But she would not let that happen or let that affect her. Meryl escaped death countless times and this time won't be an exception. As she sprinted, she felt something chasing closely after her. She didn't want to look back, because if she did that millisecond of distraction could kill her. She darted up the small slope, the suffocating dread fueling her escape. She zigzagged to shake off her pursuer.

She finally reached the entrance of the log cabin, yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind her, flinging herself against the door. She didn't hear anything over her loud and frantic panting. The door against her back didn't stir.

"Meryl! We were wondering where you were… Are you okay?" Brian's concerned voice caught her attention and the she saw everybody else staring at her.

Master Sergeant Thompson came to Brian's side, both standing at the top of the stairs of the entrance hall. Thompson analyzed her from head to toe.

"Briar, did something happen?" Thompson asked directly.

Meryl swallowed uneasily; trying to calm the adrenaline rush. It was impossible to hide away her fear, especially in front of Thompson and even the rest of her Marine buddies. Brian was sometimes oblivious, but Darren and Thompson were very observant. They knew her even at her most vulnerable.

"I…" Meryl stammered, as she saw now Kazuma, Leesha, Stephanie and Gabriella had gathered behind her Marine buddies.

"I am fine." She reinforced her tone, keeping her eyes and voice steady "Got a little afraid… of the dark."

She felt all eyes on her. Darren's eyes and Thompson's bored into her, unconvinced by her words, but the others observed her with some hesitance.

"Afraid of the dark, that is something that I never knew about." Said Brian out loud, rubbing his chin pensively.

"Guys…" Meryl suddenly announced as she climbed up the stairs, gripping the railing tightly to steady her weak body and shaking hands. "I am not feeling too well; I think I will retire for the night."

"Shuga, are you all right?" Leesha cooed, lacing her arm around Meryl's shoulders.

Meryl offered her a weak smile, her cheek muscles trembled, unable to maintain that smile for long. Stephanie and Gabriella offered a few words of comfort. Kazuma and Brian kept their distance from her and from each other as to not incite another fight.

As Meryl said her good nights and farewells to Thompson and was about to go up the stairs, Thompson had placed his hand on her forearm. The others had gone back to the living room and seated themselves on the couches. She looked up to Thompson with Darren just behind him, their grave eyes gazing at her.

"What did you see out there, Briar?" asked Thompson suddenly, his voice lowered as to not rouse any attention from the others.

Meryl's heart lurched, but shook it off with a grin.

"Guys, guys, I am fiiiiiiine." She patted them both on the shoulder. "The alcohol probably made me a little skittish, that's all."

"You're sure, Meryl?" Darren verified, studying her expression carefully.

"Psh, come on guys, why would I lie to you, hmm? I am fine, just haven't had that much alcohol in my system for a while."

Darren's face somewhat eased up while Thompson's face remained grave with intent. She knew he didn't believe her, but she just wanted some peace and quiet (and sleep too). Whatever the fuck she experienced outside was maybe the alcohol doing some crazy shit to her body. It was true though, it had been _YEARS_ since she had that much alcohol in her body, she felt a bit tipsy and hazy but she was still functioning. The adrenaline began to wear off and dizziness struck her. She opened and closed her eyes, trying to steady her vision.

"Guys, I think I will go to bed. Will you let the others know and tell them I'm sorry?"

After a brief pause, where she felt both men staring at her, Darren released a deep chuckle and patted her shoulder.

"Sure, Meryl, you take care and we will see you tomorrow, aiight?"

Meryl nodded with a grin. Darren walked off to join the others in the living room.

"Good night, Briar, rest well." Thompson added.

Meryl drew her full attention to Thompson; he would be leaving tonight since his deployment to Afghanistan was tomorrow.

"You take care of yourself, Dave." Meryl said and gave him a hug. "You better come back in one piece."

"I always will, Briar."

She narrowed her eyes with mocking displeasure at his remark. Then he flashed his rare grin which only appeared on special occasions and apparently tonight was one of them.

"I will leave my contact info on the kitchen counter."

"Okay, well good luck and good night then."

"'Night, Briar."

She walked up the stairs, hoisting her rattled body after her with her hands gripping the railing. She retreated into her room for the night, letting the drowsiness of exhaustion and the liquor peel her out of her clothes and sink into the warm embrace of her bed.


	5. Chapter Four

**HI GUUUYS! I am back! Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! wooo hooo! Yay, now I can update more frequently and finally _finally_ I can give my undivided attention to this story. Here's chapter four my present to you XD Hope y'all enjoy!**

**This is probably the longest chapter I have ever written lol XD Anyway, enjoy XD **

**And before I forget, thank you for following, "favorting" or just reading this story, it makes me really REALLY happy. XD**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**~ Into the New World ~**

Meryl woke up at the crack of dawn, feeling cranky and downright annoyed. She was plagued by nightmares about being chased by wolves and that tomahawk wielding maniac. Why the fuck did he throw his tomahawk at her anyway? What did she ever do to him? It angered her so much just thinking about all this. How would he feel if she threw her combat knife at him just missing his face by inches?! Maybe next time she should do that to him by missing _his crotch_ by a few inches! Actually that doesn't sound like a bad idea, why the hell not.

She came downstairs fully dressed in her dark skinny jeans, a washed out blue buttoned up shirt with a stripped dark blue sweater thrown over it. She decided to carry the combat knife around her neck, still feeling a little unsafe without it. As she came downstairs she found all her female friends passed out on the couches while the men were asleep on the recliner or the floor.

"'Morning, Briar."

Meryl's knife was drawn and unsheathed with Thompson hands up in surrender.

"Jeez, what the fuck, Dave! You know how I hate surprises!" she hissed at him, keeping her voice lowered. "Why are you still here, aren't you supposed to deploy today?"

Thompson had a mug of coffee in his hand, looking amused at her startled expression but then he cleared his throat resuming his solemn exterior.

"Something did spook you last night, Briar."

It took a moment for Meryl to register what he meant and then she groaned in aggravation.

"Dave, come on, it was nothing. The alcohol put me on edge last night. You know that alcohol makes me jumpy and skittish, _especially vodka_."

He surveyed her quietly, his green eyes scrutinizing just about everything that Meryl said and did. Thompson walked up to her and lowered his voice with a threatening hint.

"Don't forget that I was your superior and you were in _my _unit, Briar! I know what that face was."

She could feel his breath puffing down her face, those green eyes drilling into hers. Meryl returned him a defiant gaze.

"Maybe I did see something, _Master Sergeant Thompson, sir_." She intoned with a sharp tone in her voice. "But if it was as life threatening as _Iraq_ I would have told you."

The tension was thick. Meryl looked away from him to look at her friends. She saw Brian sprawled out on the floor, snoring happily away, cuddling up against - was that Gabriella's cardigan? The ladies were sleeping on the couches while Darren slept on the reclining leather chair. Somebody had covered them up with a blanket.

"Anyway, thanks for being worried, but I am fine." Meryl told Thompson, confronting his perceptive green eyes. "I'll go get some fresh air and be back in a bit."

"With your Ka-bar?"

Meryl rolled her eyes at him.

"I did not know that being safe, _in the fucking wilderness_, was a wrong thing to do."

Thompson released a sigh.

"Don't be out too long and stay within proximity of the log cabin."

"Yea, yea, Thompson." She waved it off at him and walked towards the door.

She slung her cozy jacket over her shoulders, zipped it up, wore a hat, and slipped into her boots. Meryl glanced back into the log cabin and at Thompson one last time then set off out into the crisp and fresh outdoors.

The cool November breeze struck her face almost like a slap in the face. She hissed. She did not except to be this cold so suddenly. She took a deep breath, letting the fresh crisp air inflate her lungs. The fresh air invigorated her body. Meryl stood still listening to nature. She could hear the breeze, the branches and leftover leaves rustling. She heard some of the remaining birds chirping and the lapping of the lake water against the shore. Everything was alive and well, nothing out of the norm.

Then Meryl spotted something. She hastily walked towards a mud patch, not too far from the descent into the lake with her heart hammering anxiously against her ribs.

"A paw print." She mumbled and kneeled down; she examined the print and pressed her fingers on it checking how fresh it was. "A wolf… from last night… So I wasn't hallucinating after all."

She grasped her Ka-bar tightly and looked in the direction of the lake, the daunting memory of last night making her heart squeeze unpleasantly.

However, she couldn't extinguish her curiosity. This man, that peculiarly dressed man, set ablaze her curiosity to such an extreme degree that denying it would drive her insane. She also couldn't shake off this feeling of having seen him somewhere before…

Meryl stood up and headed back down to the lake. The peaceful lake had a cover of morning mist hovering above its surface; it was a pity that it reflected the same murky grey color as the sky above. She walked in the direction where she had hidden herself from this man, behind the hollowed out trunk. She felt for the dent that the hatchet had left behind, she swallowed uncomfortably, it was still there. She peeked through the branches at the area he had stood.

She visualized him standing near the knocked over hollowed out tree trunk further ahead. His body built had looked like that of a warrior. The way he lumbered his heavy muscle built about, the determined and calculated countenance that he brought with him, but Meryl had been completely caught off guard by his deathly stealth. Just thinking that Meryl was at his complete mercy, made her stomach squirm. She actually wanted to meet him again. He was fascinating. No other man had made her feel this helpless before – that sounded so wrong in many ways, but with her Marine background nothing much overwhelmed her or rendered her helpless, until this guy showed up... It was his intimidating, predatory vibe that attracted her attention. Oh yes, danger was her insatiable lover... Oh fuck…She was probably missing the Marine Corps more than she thought.

Meryl walked over to the other trunk, finding the area still undisturbed.

Did the alcohol play tricks on her mind? It wouldn't be the first, but…

No! It was real! That dent left by the axe, the wolf paw print.

_Snap._

Meryl jerked her body in the direction of the sound with her Ka-bar drawn. It came from her left where she had heard the howls of the wolves last night. This single snap sound disrupted the peace of the surroundings. She felt something in the atmosphere. Something was drawing her towards that particular direction. She looked back at the log cabin then took a deep breath and entered the forest at the foot of the mountain.

Dark skeletal trees and branches towered over her and the soft forest floor was covered in fallen red-brown leaves. Each of her steps were dampened and conveniently silenced. There was barely any foliage overhead as most of it had fallen down to the soft forest ground. The murky overcast sky was visible. Meryl found that better especially for navigating back to the log cabin. She probably shouldn't stay out too long as it looked like it was going to rain.

_Snap._

Meryl leaped into defensive mode with her knife drawn again. She glanced at her surroundings in high alarm. Dark trees spread out as far as the eye could see on the muddy ground of rotting autumn leaves. She saw nothing move. Nothing sprung out to pounce her. It was again quiet, the typical nerving silence before a storm. She paused, her eyes searching her surroundings feverishly.

Then, something shot past the corner of her eye. She jerked her head to the right, catching a glimpse of the blue tips of a tail coat. She gasped. _It was him!_ The crackling and static sound of electricity boomed into the air. With her knife drawn, she crouched awaiting an attack, but none happened.

_The fuck?!_

She scratched her head in bewilderment. This was not a hallucination, _he must be here somewhere!_

_Snap._

She jerked her head upwards seeing this man in mid-jump leaping to a bough. The rotting branch gave under his feet and Meryl dodged it by milliseconds, missing her head by just an inch.

"Hey watch out!" she yelled out, but he didn't even acknowledge her presence and continued leaping from bough to bough.

"Son of a bitch!" she hissed. "I can't do any of his parkour shit."

She ran after him, following his amazing footwork across these boughs. His face was obscured by his hood, so it was difficult to tell if he even had noticed her at all. He nimbly leaped, twirled, lunged, and parried bough after bough, using his hands to steady himself or to cling to the trees. His Long coat tails flapped after him, leaving a trail of sounds for Meryl to follow. Her mind was trying to wrap around how his stocky body built could move so nimbly like this, especially when he had all his weapons and probably his own outfit weighing him down. Trying to make a fully equipped Marine in combat gear jump like that was impossible. What the fuck was he?!

Finally there was a clearing up ahead. The man's jumping pattern slowed down and he was gradually descending to lower boughs, helping Meryl to catch up to him. Then he made a pounce, jumping several feet into that clearing. Meryl's jaw went slack. This guy was going to break his ankles!

He landed in a crouching position, dampening his fall, with a resounded thud on the grassy floor. They arrived on an open grass field. He broke out into a sprint, spurring Meryl to chase him even more.

"HEY! Stop!" she shouted.

Yet again he ignored her. She cursed. He must be deaf! How could he not hear or see her?!

She pressed on. The slippery and muddy field was ascending slowly and he was gradually slowing down. She chuckled with triumph; she was going to tackle that son of a bitch! She sped up her pace, her hand stretched out trying to catch this man. She was just within an arm's reach when he suddenly swan dived, disappearing out of her sight. Meryl let out a scream when realizing what the fuck this guy just did. He jumped into a fucking crevice! There was a huge crack divided by a roaring river down below, caused by a recent mud slide.

"No-no-no-no-no-nooooooooo!" she cried, dropping her body to stop her momentum.

Her hands frantically tried to grasp anything but the mud and rocks were so eroded by the recent rain that it fell apart by the slightest touch. Her body rolled off the cliff, her back facing the fall into the roaring river. Her shrill screams for life echoed between the crevice walls and soon deafened by the ferocious roar of the icy river down below.

Meryl impacted into the water, icy water sending a shock wave of paralysis into her body. The water was too dark due to the lack of light, but she recognized outlines of rock and logs snagged at the bottom. The impact had knocked out the air out of her lungs. She tried to scramble back to the surface but the current kept forcing her deeper and deeper into the water. The strength to swim grew weaker and before long her body in the last frenzy of life inhaled for air, but icy water filled her lungs instead. The sheer terror and helplessness that she felt could never be described into words. She was drowning and dying.

Suddenly, a wedged log appeared in her line of sight and smacked her in the head, knocking her out of consciousness. The last thing she saw was a source of light followed by a sudden blinding electric discharge.

* * *

An abrupt resuscitating gasp for air made Meryl sit up. The water propelled out of her mouth, hacking and couching the water out of her lungs and stomach. With her fist clenched on the patches of shrubbery, aiding to steady her with the expulsion of water from her body - she tilted over, letting herself roll onto her back. She saw the pink dawn morning sky above her. She felt some pebbles and bits of branches poking at her back. She took a few deep breaths, letting the realization sink in that she was still alive.

Her body senses began to return. She felt the autumn chill, heard the peaceful lapping of water with the occasional little splashes. She caught the scent of wet mud and dew and felt her body lying on moist ground. She slowly sat up and suddenly hissed grasping her head. She flinched when she touched an injury at her head. With the pang of pain, her memories returned with such an aggression that it made her body shake.

"Okay, Meryl, calm down. You are all right, not dead, but alive and well." She mumbled to herself, clasping her shoulders and rubbing them as if she was freezing.

Then something struck her as strange. She looked down onto herself, noticing that she was completely dry. It shocked her so much that she had gotten up, stumbling and grasping the nearby tree.

"What the fuck?!" she squeaked with disbelief, patting down her entire body, realizing that she was completely dry. "Didn't I fall into that river and…drown?"

What kind of fucked up shit is this?! Was somebody messing with her?! A moment of panic grasped her body, when she frantically patted down around her chest. She unzipped her jacket and sighed with relief when feeling the Ka-bar still attached around her neck.

"Thank God!" she almost cried with relief.

Finally, after gathering herself, she looked at her surroundings. Why oh why, did she not bring her cellphone and her wallet along? She could have contacted somebody by now and gotten rescued too! Well, she did not expect a simple stroll into the forest would send her on a crazy journey… that hatchet wielding fucker is to blame!

She was standing on the bank of a quiet and peaceful river. The dark tall trees were bare but she had never seen such an undisturbed, clean and idyllic forest and river. Even in this season, there was something so magical about this place. She walked to the river bank and cupped a bit of the incredibly clear water in her hands and stared at it intently. She paused. There was always a risk of drinking water outside in nature, all sorts of nasty diseases could turn her bed ridden and even kill her, but she had to try. She took a swig from it, feeling the refreshing, clean and invigorating water travel through her system. This was the freshest and cleanest water she had ever tasted in her life!

Meryl saw her own reflection and frowned at the blood encrusted and bruised flesh on her forehead. She cursed to herself. She took a scoop of water and splashed it against her injury, earning herself a teeth gnashing growl. It really looked like somebody had wacked her in the face with a thick branch. The cut was minor and split open, but her only worry was a concussion. She seemed fine, just a little shaken by the experience. She looked around once more, seeing no sign of any human activity nearby. She heard no unnatural sounds, just the sounds of the river, critters and birds chirping. The area was obviously completely unfamiliar to her. She had to get her bearings and recon the area. Her old Marine instincts were instantly activated. If she continued down the river, following the flow, maybe she will find civilization. She internalized the area and walked in the direction of the flowing river.

Who knows how long she walked along the river, she could only tell by how the sun was rising that she maybe had walked several hours. The smell of dew had gone and the warmth of the autumn sun was warming up the surroundings nicely. The ground was muddy and wet, as if it had rained during the night.

_Where the fuck was she?_

No sign of a man-made clearing of forests or lumber yards. The trees had grown so long, tall and ancient, undisturbed by humans. Was she maybe in some kind of protected national park? It would explain the lack of human activity. But even so she should see some nature-loving people trekking or something. The weather was perfect for hiking.

Then she spotted something. Her heart raced with excitement and she smiled with relief. She sped up her pace, a wooden bridge had been constructed over the river. She stumbled onto a path that led over the bridge and across. She looked in both directions the path stretched out as far as the eye could see from either direction. It was a muddy down trodden path where at least a car could drive through. She cast her eyes to the ground, her eyes coming across tracks. More relief washed over her. She knelt down to take a closer look. She saw many parallel lines with horse hooves imprint between them. _Horse drawn carriages?!_ Did that still exist _out here_?! Were there Amish people living in this area? She noticed also separate horse tracks from lone riders, but also a lot of foot prints. This route had a lot of traffic which was a great sign!

However, she spotted another set of tracks. It was a group of maybe 8 people, all wearing the same shoes, which was strange. She assumed they were boots with a slight heel. Meryl knew a little bit about reading tracks as it was taught to her in the Marine Corps. She could tell that they were all men, from the width, length and pressure of their boot sizes. These foot prints left her a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. These tracks headed east and west from where she stood. She looked to the east in the opposite direction across the bridge; she had the feeling that she should head that direction instead. But these men might be able to help her home. She touched the tracks, noting the freshness of them. It had been only a few hours since they passed. Maybe she could catch up to them.

* * *

Another few hours flew by, and the sun was at its peak now, which was noon. Meryl began to feel weary from the running. She hadn't eaten breakfast this morning. This down trodden and carved path stretched out for miles with no sign of any human activity. She knelt down to check the tracks once more and found that she was at least an hour behind these men. In her ragged breath, she stopped to take a breather. She paced around to regain her breathing, placing her hands at her hips. She noted that the forest had gotten denser, as the trees branches further ahead seemed to create a dome overhead. Of course, the forest was barren of leaves but some of the pine trees and some of the more stubborn and sturdy trees had still some brown foliage in their branches. Occasional shrubberies obscured the sight and prevented the human eye to see beyond a mile ahead.

She resumed but chose to walk quickly instead. She had to preserve the energy she had left. Thompson would have scolded the shit out of her for jogging over several miles, but her gut told her to tail them and even urgently so, she was unsure why. The trees grew closer and thicker overhead, although the blue sky poked through from above. Meryl noticed that she had arrived in different terrain with more rock face showing, a lot of mudslide and erosions had happened to expose such high and imposing rock faces. When she entered this terrain, she had the feeling of being watched, the hairs on her back always stood and chills went down her spine. It was somewhat nerve wracking, but she pressed on, albeit more guarded with her hand grasping the knife around her neck. Either erosion or an earthquake had shaped this particular terrain, but she was walking between almost a crevice like path divided by levels of land and rock faces. Her Marine instincts sharpened her senses more, warning her that these elevated rock faces would be terrific place for snipers or enemies to ambush her.

Her nerves were eased when in the distance she heard some laughter. The relief appeared in her face and she resumed her jog. Finally, she would get some help! The laughter grew louder and louder, she was getting closer! A huge thick shrubbery over 6 feet tall obscured the men standing there. Then she heard a cry, a distraught and frightened cry of a young child followed by a desperate cry of a woman. Meryl froze in her steps just behind that towering shrubbery. A row of jeering laughter followed with an expulsion of a whimpering grunt.

"What's the ma'er, you savage bitch." Sniggered one of those men with a thick British accent, earning him a row of jeers from his peers. "Is that all you got? Come on, give us another jab."

The man suddenly yelled out in pain, as if he was suddenly tackled by something.

"Get that runt off of me!"

Meryl's body shook with adrenaline with a strong sense to intervene. She decided to sneak along the shrubbery, her back pressed against it. She peered over the edge, her jaw went slack.

Before her were eight men of average height and weight, dressed in a thick, coarse and elaborate red tail coat with what seemed to be a flintlock musket with a 15 inch socket bayonet attached to it, slung over their backs (Don't ask her why she knew this, as she was a closet nerd when it came to weapons). The mother and child that they had cornered were on the ground, clinging to each other. They were both very tanned in complexion with black hair with some Asian facial traits, especially in their almond shaped eyes. They dressed in layers of animal skin, probably a mix of buck skin, leather and patches of fur around their neck, wrists and ankles. But then, an odd familiarity struck Meryl. Their appearance and facial features somewhat reminded her of the hatchet wielding maniac. It became more apparent who or what they were, when the mother hugged her son closely and spoke to him in a language she never heard before… They were Native Americans.

_The fuck?! _

Did she either travel back in time or landed on a film set?!

Some of the redcoats had their flintlocks muskets in their hand, itchy to use them, while the one leading the bunch whose red coat uniform was more decorated, was the officer leading the unit. His men had wrestled the maybe 8 year old boy off of him and they had thrown the boy to ground brutishly. With a growl the officer kicked the boy in the gut, earning the frightened wail of the mother. The mother shrieked the boy's name in horror while the boy released a pained cry. Meryl clenched her fists in anger and suddenly leaped out of the shrubbery, grabbing two redcoats heads and smashing the side of their heads against each other. Two down and 6 to go.

"The devil!" yelped the officer, taking everybody by utter surprise.

She grabbed one of the nearby redcoats, catching him in a vice like grip around his neck while brushing her Ka-bar against his pulsating throat.

"Let them go, or I will slit his throat!" declared Meryl firmly.

The boy quickly scrambled back into his mother's arms who she cradled tightly in her bosom. The officer raised his hand to stop his men from reloading and shooting their muskets. A cocky smile graced his face and he chuckled.

"Oooh a knife-wielding she-devil. Nothing surprises me anymore about these colonies." Jeered the officer, earning the sniggers of his mates as he walked up close to her. "What will you do? Come on then, slit his throat."

The redcoat in her grasp whimpered against her blade and the other redcoats surrounded her now, taking advantage of her hesitation.

Whatever fucked up place she landed in, these men were here to kill. Their behavior seemed too real, too hostile to be fake. Her eyes scanned the men surrounding her, she quickly analyzed their bodies, zeroing on one of the men that seemed weak to her. He was just an adolescent boy, still not filling out his uniform completely. He tried to conceal the tremor in his body and the pallor in his face. She suddenly shoved the man she held towards the weakling.

"Get her!" roared the officer with his saber now drawn.

The first wave of soldiers came at her, charging at her with their bayonets. She ducked, crouching to the ground, swinging her leg knocking the first two men off their feet and onto their backs with a groan. She grabbed a musket, hitting them both swiftly with the pommel in their faces to knock them out.

"Don't shoot her! I want her alive instead! She will provide us with entertainment."

Meryl's insides twisted in disgust. _Pigs. The scum of the planet_.

Four down and four more to go.

She crouched low, placing her weight on her right knee while extending her left leg forward in a half split. Her arms raised, parted in the direction of the men with her fingers imitating that of claws.

The men looked thoroughly amused at her stance, exploding with mockery at her.

"Oh men, look, she dances too." Added the officer with a sneer.

Meryl kept her calm and confident expression - rebuffing their mockery and intimidations.

"You all will be turned into my bitches when I am done with you." She said confidently, eyeing the officer in particular.

Her words immediately triggered such a violent attack on these men's egos that all three foot soldiers stormed her with the officer remaining behind yelling not to kill her. The first person to strike her was a burly axe wielding soldier, he raised his axe high to deliver a fatal blow. She dodged his attack so effortlessly while delivering him a roundabout turning kick to the face making him stagger back. In his stagger she charged at him with deft strikes of her palms and fists. He sunk to his knees. Then she raised her right leg high in a split and came down hard with her heel, smacking down on his head. He crumpled face first to the ground.

She heard the other two men charge at her with infuriating yells. They were too close for her to execute any moves, so with an uncomfortable swallow she performed several chains of back flips to create some distance between her and them.

"Wow, never thought I could do this." She panted with a grin.

"What is wrong with you, GET HER!" shouted the officer with anger. "She is _just a woman_!"

The left over men growled and charged at her, sharp bayonets charging at her now. She waited for them. When they were within reach, she twirled, dodging the first strike, striking with her fingers a pressure point in his neck making him sink to the ground. The other redcoat looked with horror and disbelief at his comrade down on the ground, then with a strike of her flat palm in an upwards motion up his chin, she made the second one lose his musket and stagger backwards. She delivered a strong sudden punch across his face after he had briefly recovered.

_Click, crack._

An explosion erupted. Meryl instinctively grabbed the man she had punched and an anguished yell erupted out of his mouth, followed by a spray of blood in her face and torso. She froze, seeing a chunk of flesh missing from his sides. The man's blue terrified eyes stared at her, the last bit of life coming to shocking realization that he was dying. His body crumbled taking her down to her knees. He was wheezing, hyperventilating, crying and screaming in agony. She saw parts of his large intestines pooled out of his body. In frantic manner, she pressured down on his wound, trying to contain the gushing blood. His body convulsed, his screams drowning in gurgles of blood. In a matter of seconds, his body went limp with his dead eyes staring to the blue heavens.

Time froze around Meryl. Her grey eyes staring at the limb and bloodied body in front of her. The familiar and haunting body shakes, the nausea and pallor in her face returned. She was immediately transported back into the memories of Iraq, her desperate attempt to pressure the wounds of her Marine buddy's blown off arm and leg caused by the mines. His cries for his mother and for dear life were not able to keep him alive any longer. Meryl looked at her bloodied hands at present which overlapping with those of the past.

She suddenly felt the cold barrel against her right temple.

"I have never seen a human, nay a woman fight like this before." Sneered the officer arrogantly, feeling triumphant that he had this woman at gunpoint now.

The nausea, and shakes gradually melted away, filling her up with an uncontrollable rage. She glared up at his smug face, he had already cocked his gun fully and now was resting his index finger against the trigger.

Within a split second, she had wrung the flintlock out of his hand and then twisted his arm up his back so violently that a loud crack followed by a pop happened. This man yelled with terror, whimpering in agony. She pushed him away, watching how his dislocated arm fell down limply at his side. He turned around trembling, grasping his arm with the fear evident in his pale and wide eyes. She raised her boot and stomped with her heel against his chest , propelling him on his back with a cry of pain and fear.

"Have mercy!" he cowered in dread.

She grabbed him by his collar, brought him close to her solemn face.

"You mean the kind of mercy that you gave to your subordinate?" she tilted her head in the direction of the corpse with her indifferent and arctic expression boring into his terrified eyes. "That can be easily arranged."

He frantically shook his head with a whimper his eyes wide with terror.

"Please, I beg of you, spare me!"

"Too late."

She punched him hard in the face, knocking him out of consciousness. He went limp in her grasp and she dropped him unceremoniously to the ground. She observed him, the temptation to beat the living shit out of him was strong, but she suddenly remembered the Natives that were attacked. She got up, looking at the area they had been, but they had escaped. She felt a little bit let down by this, but if she had screwed they would have been fucked regardless and she was maybe as terrifying as those redcoats. She sighed. Her eyes fell on the officer's equipment and then to the other soldiers that were sprawled all over the place. She had an idea.

After looting them of their stuff and gathering them in a "decent pile". She looked at her loot with a grin. She had a few sabers, a few flint lock pistols, a small dagger, leather pouches containing water, some string, a spyglass, lead bullets, black powder (yikes),some food consisting of some dried meat, bread, some weird porridge or gruel and some kind of tart. Meryl decided to "confiscate" a backpack from one of the men and loaded the bag with the looted goods.

The more she looked through the items, the more she began to doubt that she was anywhere near home. Why were all these men dressed up as redcoats and speaking British English? Why were all equipped with flintlock muskets and not modern guns? And why the flying fuck were they trying to kill her or capture her?! A part of her jokingly assumed that she time traveled somehow by falling into the river, although that idea began to stew in her head.

What if she did travel back in time? These redcoats harassing the Native Americans… would that be during the revolutionary era before the civil war kicked in…

"Okay, Meryl, you've lost your shit the moment you started thinking that time travel exists." She snorted at herself with derision.

She picked up the backpack with the looted goods, looked beyond her shoulder to the dead redcoat, sadness settling into her stomach. That assholic officer cared more about his reputation than his own men! What kind of officer does that? Shooting through his own to kill an enemy? It was the scum that did that.

She took a deep breath then turned away with the backpack and looted goods and left the scene.

* * *

Meryl trekked through the zigzagging terrain between the raised terraces of land which either loomed over head or sometimes served as stairs to climb up. She decided to climb up the hill to get a better vantage point, it might also confirm her nagging suspicion that she had traveled back in time. She hoped it was her mind going bonkers from the lack of energy. She sped up her pace, grabbing a hold of the trees by the trunk to hold her balance. The terrain was ascending quite a bit and she was grateful that her boots had some treads to ensure better grip. She was quite out of breath; it had been too long since she trekked like this. Boot camp had forced her to do almost 20 miles of running a day, 10 miles from one point and 10 back, building incredible stamina and muscle mass. Kung Fu had slimmed her down and turned her lithe, which was actually better, but she had to admit her stamina was considerably lower.

She spotted the terrain rounding off, which meant that she was close to the summit of the hill. She pushed herself more to climb up the hill, grasping the trunks and roots and propelling herself forward. She grasped the last root, hoisting herself up and grabbing a thick trunk to stand up. Her jaw went slack and her eyes widened.

The ocean! And, oh my god, is that…?

"A ship! With motherfucking sails?!"

Meryl stood on top of the ridge of the hill, grasping onto the thin trunk. For several miles dense forest stretched out all around her, but eventually thinned out as it came close to the shore of the ocean. She saw in the distance a wooden ship with sails sailing west from her. A fucking ship with sails?!

"The fuck?!"

She could not recognize the landscape at all. The United States had some huge forests and great wild life like the one she was seeing, but the fact that she hadn't seen power plants or telecommunication towers made her stomach sink more and more. Bringing her phone would have not helped, since there would be no reception. She must be on the East coast at least… right? Where else would she be? An autumn gust of wind almost knocked her off the ridge and she held onto the trunk. Her nose caught the scent of smoke.

She couldn't tell if it was a wildfire or smoke from chimneys, but something was pushing her to head north towards the coast. The smoke rose from the north but trailed westwards where that ship was sailing towards. So much forest stretched out in front and behind her, backtracking would prove stupid and futile. Northwards the forest looked thinned out in some areas judging from the patches of missing tree foliage, which meant human activity.

"This is not going to be easy." She breathed with defeat, looking at how much ground she had to cover and probably quickly too.

She had to cover miles upon miles; this would be possibly the longest trek she had ever taken since leaving the Marine Corps. Meryl slowly descended the ridge, grasping onto the roots and tree trunks. Descending that slope was so treacherous, decaying leaves littered the grounds making it slippery and unpredictable. A few times she had those heart-stopping moments where she could have rolled down and shattered her bones, but thankfully her Marine training coupled by her increased reflexes from her Kung Fu training; she was able to navigate safely down.

Meryl had walked for several hours, feeling the aches and pains of her body complaining about the rigorous and quick pace. It was relatively flat land which she was thankful for with some bumps caused by random elevations or bulging roots. There would be sudden drops of terrains, again like terraces and other times sudden deep, bone shattering crevices with roaring rivers down below. There was so much wild life; it even surprised her at times. Hares scampered across her way with little care, deer trotted about but bounded whenever she got too close to them and the birds chirped and tweeted so vibrantly. There was this sense of urgency from the forest animals as winter was soon approaching. Life was teeming in the forest and still no sign of human activity, which made Meryl feel more anxious. The nagging suspicion that she might have traveled back was so strong.

Who knew maybe she was dreaming or somebody drugged her and this was a drugged-induced dream. Or maybe the guys at the log cabin were messing with her. But… everything from her encounter with the redcoats to beating them up and having a guy die in her arms… it felt too real. The air, the warmth of the sun, the trees, the soft ground she tread upon and the noise of wild life – this was real. Could anything this realistic be caused by drugs or a dream? Or heaven forbid… she died and this was the afterlife… She snorted out loud. She chuckled at herself and shook her head at her internal turmoil.

Judging from the angle of the sun, she had maybe a good 4~5 hours of daylight left. Sleeping in a forest that was probably infested with wolves, bears and wild cats was a bad idea. If she found a safe place then maybe she would change her mind, but right now, she wanted to cover as much ground as possible while the sun was still lighting up the area.

Meryl was not sure how much ground she covered, but whenever she looked back to that ridge she came down from, the smaller and distant it appeared. Thank God that she hadn't broken or strained anything; otherwise she would be so _fucked_.

Then she heard a rumbling overhead. She jerked her head towards the sky, but couldn't see the sky as the browning foliage obscured the view. She broke into a run, jumping, hopping over fallen branches, bulging roots and stones until she noticed the forest thinning significantly. She came to a screeching halt with a sigh of relief, noting the chopped stump of the trees and chopped lumber piled nearby.

_She was close!_

She walked down onto the lumber yard, seeing the heavy tracks of wide horse hooves (probably those gigantic work horses) and parallel lines of carts on the muddy path. All these tracks were old by a few days, something had interrupted the activity. She whimpered with defeat.

As Meryl stood in this obscure, and quiet small lumberyard, she still didn't see any modern era equipment. All these logging machines with murderously long saws and pincers and the trucks that she saw in documentaries, _where the flying fuck were those?_ And what about a pickup truck or two, and what about a little cabin for the workers?! Since when do loggers use horses anymore?! The terrains were so flat, heavy machinery would have no issues moving about the area, where the fuck were they?!

She took a deep breath and looked around, a sudden rumbling startled her. She had a better view of the sky this time. Gray clouds were rolling in, she could smell the rain in the air. She had to find some shelter and wood to make a fire quickly. She grabbed a bunch of branches and dried bushels of shrubbery while she walked further down the gently sloping terrain of the lumber yard. She heard the sound of flowing water. When she stepped out into a clearing with a several feet deep flowing river passing at her feet did she finally spot her ideal shelter.

It was a carved out space underneath an overhang cliff where the quiet river passed below, it was raised high enough for it to be out of reach from predators. Only problem was, she would have to climb several feet to reach it. She groaned. _Oh cool…_

She walked upstream in the direction of the overhang cliff. Meryl stopped at the foot of the rock face, she stuffed her backpack with the wood and tinder, slung the backpack on her back and grasped hold of the rock face. Lucky for her, there were a few protruding areas for her to climb upon.

Within a few minutes she hoisted herself into the carved out niche. It was perfect! It was wide and deep enough to prevent the weather elements from penetrating and spacious enough to set up a fire, it was also roomy enough for her. There were a few jagged rocks hanging from the ceiling and some poking from the ground, but none seemed unstable.

She placed her bag on the ground, emptied its contents, slung it back on her back. She took the rope with her. She fastened the rope around one immovable boulder in her carved out niche. She tied a special knot which her Marine drill instructors have literally drilled into her brain, tugged on it strongly with her body weight to test it and threw it down the rock face. It did not reach till the bottom but it would certainly help with climbing up and down.

The rumbling followed by flashes of lightening grew stronger and louder. She scampered down the rock face and dashed for finding more wood and tinder. Since she was in a logging yard, there was probably enough wood for her to last a while. The sun had begun to set, light was waning fast. She needed that left over light to light her fire.

The rain fell hard soaking her almost through as she climbed up the rock face with the aid of the rope, her backpack full of – hopefully - dry tinder and wood. She would worry about hunting for food tomorrow; she had rationed out her food intake throughout the day to ensure she had enough to eat for the night and tomorrow morning. Right now getting up there settled down and fire burning was important.

Her body shivered from the drop in temperature and her soaked through jacket. She had to get that fire started and fast, before hypothermia settled in and that would _certainly kill her_. She grabbed a few rocks laid it out in a circle, piled the wood up against each other and stuffed the tinder within. With her cold shaking hands she grabbed the flintlock pistol which was actually still loaded. She moved closer to the edge of her niche to discharge the pistol into the river below, praying that her fingers, limbs and face would still be intact after she fires. She fully cocks the pistol and pulls the trigger.

_Click, BOOM!_

The explosive roar echoed and became tenfold due to the curved shape of her niche, but the thunder dampened the sound nicely. That wretched sound, the fume and the recoil on that thing almost made her lose the pistol to the river below. Her ears rung. Well, she was still alive, _for now._

"This was the closest I have gotten to death." She mumbled.

Now that it was clean she went to the prepped fire place, poured some black powder in the small compartment between the flint and the hammer of the pistol. She held the pistol sideways close to the tinder with the barrel pointing out of her niche so that the flint and hammer touched the tinder. Carefully, she half-cocked the pistol with her thumb securing the hammer. She took a deep breath. If she died now, she would be embarrassed for the rest of her afterlife and nobody would find her body in this God forsaken forest.

Gingerly, she placed her index finger on the trigger, feeling comfortable with holding it in one hand this time. She pressed the trigger, a high pitched scrape and a flash followed, instantly igniting the tinder. She deftly withdrew the pistol and gently blew against the tinder coaxing it along. Crackling followed by sparks, grabbed a hold of the tinder, engulfing them in flames. She backed away seeing the flames lashing out and eventually settling down. She sat against a boulder, feeling the heat keeping her warm. She unzipped her drenched jacket and placed it against a boulder to dry. She wore a sweater underneath which was luckily still dry. She was still shivering as it was still cold and the rain made it more miserable.

She stared into the flames, mesmerized by the dancing flames. A strange sense of comfort and warmth enveloped her the longer she stared into the flames. Her mind was blank with her eyes gazing into the flames.

After finally breaking eye contact with the flame, Meryl awoke from her trance. The horizon was dark and murky with the occasional flash of lightening and the rumble of thunder. She had probably stared long into the flames for maybe hours. The fire was dimmed, she threw a few thick chopped wood into the flame and went over to pull up the rope that had been dangling down from the rock face. She looked over at her jacket, noticing just now the blood spatter all over the torso area. The longer she looked at the jacket, the more she realized it was probably good that nobody had found her just yet. It looked like she had gone on a murder rampage. She went over to inspect the stains and groaned some more. Even the sleeves were covered in blood!

"Aww man, that shit won't come out." She groaned miserably. "I _loved_ that jacket, maybe I can try to salvage it tomorrow."

With a dejected sigh she sat closer to the fire, and kept the extra wood nearby to restock the fire. Now the physical exhaustion began to hit her like a truck. Her muscles ached and her body protested from the strenuous trek of today. Her jacket had thankful dried up in certain areas; she grabbed it and covered herself. It would dry up soon, she was certain of it. The pitter-patter of the rain and the rumbling of the clouds lulled her into a sense of safety and peace. Her eyelids grew heavy. Unable to resist her first peaceful moment since her arrival in this world, a comforting heaviness settled over her and finally sleep engulfed her.


	6. Chapter Five

**Hullo guuuuys! Again thank you for the support from adding me to your favorites to just reading it! XD I am in the process of churning out as many chapters as I can before the Spring Semester begins (Jan 28, GAAAAAAH!). So, I gotta make sure that I have some back ups (anything for your guys :D).**

**Anyway, I will update Chapter Six pretty soon to help speed things up a bit. For now I hope you enjoy this chapter. XD**

**And as usual reviews are always welcomed. You keep doing what you do. You all rock. Take care and have wonderful weekend XD**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**~ Contact with the Natives ~**

Sleep was spotty at best, filled with power naps and sudden awakenings caused by the slightest noise produced by nature. Also the redcoat's face and his mangled lifeless body presented itself everywhere in her dreams like the annoying know-it-all student, waving his hand to get called. Oh the morbidity of it all, but a sense of humor was needed to keep one's sanity, especially after all the shit she saw after being deployed in Iraq. Of course, she was affected by his death, but she had to compartmentalize it and deal with it another time like she did with all deaths in a stressful environment.

She knew she would never find peaceful slumber in this new environment, in the middle of the forest, surrounded by predators, blood thirsty redcoats and of course the famed axe, actually, hatchet wielding maniac.

_Oh that hatchet wielding maniac._

Where the fuck was he? This mysterious man was on her mind more than she liked to admit it. She never felt such a strong magnetic curiosity towards a man before. She was definitely intrigued by him. She was certain their paths would cross eventually; her gut instincts told her so.

Meryl released a loud yawn and stretched her body like a cat, feeling the bones and joints pop. Her body shivered at the cool temperature. It was dawn and the sky was clear, the horizon had a pinkish hue with the sun beams touching the tips of the trees. Her niche was not high enough for her to see the ocean or the sunrise. She would have to probably climb some of the nearby rock faces to get a better vantage point.

Only the glowing embers remained of her extinguished fire which was fine since she had still some bread left with some cheese. She would have to go hunting today anyways. She had to see what her next move was, whether to continue her trek or remain here and stock up.

The sun rays finally reached her niche warming up the area around her. Time to get up and get things done for the day.

* * *

Meryl had finally decided, after witnessing the absurdly fecund environment surrounding her niche, to remain and stock up at her niche. She had managed to spear fishes from the river, using her Ka-bar as the blade as a make shift spear. She managed by a single, yes single, throw of her knife to kill a hare. She gutted the fish and hare further down the river away from her niche to prevent unwanted "guests" from loitering around her shelter.

She was in the process of washing out the gutted hare and fish on the rocky river bank when she felt a chill went down her spine making the hairs on her back stand up. She froze in her actions, scanning with her eyes her surroundings.

_Something or someone was watching her._

She finished off rinsing the gutted fish and hare, placed her fresh catch in the laid out skinned fur. She tied up the bundle and held it in her hand. Her Ka-bar was tightly secured at her belt hoop. Meryl better move out of this open area, she was at a crippling disadvantage towards any attack. The place which she had gutted her future meals was an open area carved out by the river. She had settled for the wide and extremely shallow part of the river right after it terraced, creating a tiny waterfall. One could basically walk across that leveled out river as the water's depth was just ankle deep, but it was treacherously slippery. It was of course a great hunting ground for predators as many unfortunate fishes took their last breath at this particular location. Meryl gathered that this river was prone to flash floods or sudden swells and since it had rained most of last night, it was probably best that she left the area as soon as possible.

She walked up to higher ground, out of the river's path and proceeded to return to her niche. As she was distancing herself from the river she felt a sudden rumble under her feet followed by crashing of water, thundering down from the distance. Meryl stopped in her steps briefly but somehow felt compelled to go check the river again. She didn't backtrack her steps instead she cut across through the trees and shrubbery lining the river. She stopped at the bank of the river, seeing how the river was swollen by twice its height and how the flow of the river was more ferocious than before. The clear and transparent water was replaced by a muddy beige with chunks of wood, shrubbery and mud floating about.

The area that she had gutted her catch a few minutes ago was completely flooded to the brink with water and the entire river was now leveled out.

Meryl hissed as she gazed at the river with her stomach squirming from how close she escaped death.

A shrilled frantic yell erupted higher up from the river, causing Meryl to drop her things.

She looked upstream seeing a pair of arms wildly gesticulating from out of the riotous river while another person ran along the river. As these two individuals came around the bend she finally could tell what kind of people they were. Judging from their garb made of animal skins, their dark hair and tanned skin, they were Native Americans. There was one young boy maybe around the age of 10 almost drowning in the river and adolescent boy running along crying and shouting for the young boy's name. Meryl took off her jacket and threw it over her catch. She stood in front of the bank, seeing how the young boys cries were being drowned by the swollen and chaotic river.

Meryl jumped in.

Her heart almost exploded from the sudden iciness of the water, the current was damn strong almost yanking her to the bottom. She swam against the current towards the approaching boy who was gradually losing his strength. The icy water was testing her physical and mental strength to such a degree that she had already reached her limit just by being in the icy cold water for a minute.

She pushed and pushed swimming towards the right.

The boy was within reach and she grabbed him, lacing her arms around him to keep his head out of water. He looked at her terrified as if he had just seen ghost and tried in vain to struggle against her.

"Hold on! I am trying to save you!" she shouted over the loud rushing river, coughing up the water that had splashed into her mouth.

Either he didn't understand what she said or he was afraid, but he fought against her.

"Please! I am trying to help!" she said, trying to contain his fits and keeping him out of water as much as she could.

A sharp blow from under her chin momentarily dazed her and she let go of the boy. The boy had managed to kick her in the face to release himself from her grip. She woke up from her daze when her head had submerged under the icy water.

The little boy wailed for help and tried paddling against the current. They were being swept down further and further. Meryl ground her teeth together and swam right after the boy. The bumpiness and sudden turbulent currents made it difficult to catch up to the boy.

Meryl saw the debris that the river carried with and then saw a stuck log approaching the boy's path. She yelled when she saw a log coming, but it was too late, the log knocked the boy unconscious as he slammed into it.

Her heart dropped.

His body went limp, flowing with the river and eventually after going through uneven areas his body disappeared from sight. Meryl's heart constricted painfully with fear. She pushed and pushed and dove under water. The water was so opaque and brown that she could only see a few feet in front of her. She almost wanted to cry, she had to find him now!

He was snagged under a tree trunk, she went down and yanked him hard by his collar and sleeves and managed to get him out. They broke to the surface with a loud gasp and Meryl pushed herself to swim towards the left. There was a sandy bank not too far ahead from her. As the water kept splashing at her face making her cough and dazing her senses, she saw a boulder in the middle of the river. If she could push herself against it, it might help to propel her over to the sandy shore. The only problem was the currents were damn strong.

She waited until the boulder was in full sight, so she braced herself for what is to come. When the boulder was within arm's reach, she pushed as hard as she could against it and propelled herself to the left. With the boy in tow she managed to drift to the left, but the currents were still dragging her along. Meryl swam for her life. She outstretched her hand and grabbed onto some of the snagged debris to hoist herself towards the sandy shore until her feet finally touched the bottom. She clambered with the boy in her arms up the sloping sandy shore until they were utterly out of the water.

They collapsed on land, Meryl lying next to the boy coughing and wheezing from the effort of saving the boy. Her body shook violently from the murderous cold of the river coupled by the merciless cold from the outside. As she lay on her stomach and saw the boy's body not stirring, she gasped with alarm and scampered over to his side.

She turned the boy on his back, his eyes tightly shut. She pressed her ear to his chest hearing no heartbeat.

"Oh no-no-no, you don't! Don't you die on me!" she breathed frantically.

She turned his head so it looked skywards and placed both her hands on his chest and did a few chest compressions. Then she did mouth-to-mouth and listened if he responded. She did another few chest compressions and again mouth-to-mouth. He was not responding and her breath grew more frantic.

"Come on, please!"

When she performed chest compressions she was suddenly almost violently yanked away from the boy and contained. Meryl in her frantic moment had not realized that a group of maybe 10 Native Americans had assembled around her, all were men garbed in fur and animal skins some with face paint others not, some shaved heads or wearing literally a Mohawk. They spoke a language that she never heard before but in a frantic and menacing manner.

"Please, let me go!" Meryl begged, struggling against their restraints. "I need to save this boy otherwise he will die!"

They would not listen to her. She suddenly smacked the back of the head against the one containing her, he let go, she broke away shoving aside those in her way and she went to the boy. She raised her fist high and came down swiftly on his chest to jump start his heart, then repeated that one more time until yells of outrage or anger followed. Brutishly she was immediately dragged away by the hair of her head, kicking and screaming. A hunting knife was placed against her throat now.

"You should die for killing my son!" spoke up the Native in English seething with revenge and whose knife was pressing against her pulsating throat.

He grabbed a bunch of her hair, yanking up to inflict pain on her, she whimpered.

"You misunderstand I saved your son from the river and was trying to revive him!" exclaimed Meryl in shaky voice defending herself. "Please…"

He didn't listen to her, instead yelled some orders to his men. Two went to go get the boy's body while the others walked ahead. They were in the process to turn around and take her along when a sudden shout from the two men tending to the boy erupted. The entire group turned around.

The boy's body convulsed and he had coughed up all the water in his lungs. The person restraining Meryl let go of her and ran to his son, scooping his son up in his arms and hugging him tightly in the most touching and beautiful display of parental love that Meryl had ever seen. The father held his son, looking at him, touching his face and pressing his forehead against his son's. Meryl saw tears in the father's eyes from the sheer gratitude that he was still alive.

The father called out to his men with the brightest smile on his face, showing that his son was alive and well. It was strange, all men abandoned Meryl's side to join the father in the gratitude that the boy was still alive.

She then heard hurried footsteps behind her, seeing a bunch of women running towards the men. Among them was the mother, her youthful grief-stricken face had been turned in utter relief and gratitude, praising whatever had saved her baby boy. She crumbled to the ground in tears holding her baby boy close to her.

Meryl couldn't help but be touched by this scene of affection between the parents and child. It seemed that they didn't think that she was a threat anymore as they were all occupied with rejoicing the boy's survival. She decided to back away quietly and then turned her back on them, disappearing into the forest that had been lining the river.

* * *

Two days had passed since the incident of the boy. So far none of the Natives had come and captured her or attacked her, so she assumed everything was settled and there was no bad blood between them. Meryl had decided to stay at her niche for another two days to recover. Those guys had not been really nice to her, they left a few bruises on her wrists and well, her scalp hurt like a bitch. During that time she managed to wash out the blood stains from her jacket, not fully, it just looked like dirt stains, but since her jacket was dark blue it didn't show too much.

However, when the two days passed she decided it was time to move out of her niche and go find some civilization. The nagging doubt that she had about this world, grew to exponential proportions. She was slowly growing accustomed to this way of life, although she missed her hamburgers, pizzas, hot dogs, a warm bed, a shower and electricity. She was realizing this more and more now, if she hadn't been a Marine and a martial artist, but an average New Yorker she would have been _SO FUCKED._

Although New York women are quite the hardy bunch, but this would have thrown them all off of their game. Just the idea how these women would have handled this type of environment made Meryl giggle.

Since Meryl's arrival in this weird frontier, she had been thinking a lot. She was beginning to accept that she landed maybe back in history or some kind of weird parallel universe. It was more comforting to accept rather than reject this idea. Being on one's toes due to disbelief was just a waste of energy, when all that energy can be used for survival.

On the note of survival, another reason for Meryl's departure of her niche was the temperature and the way the clouds looked. It had gotten colder, more trees were bare now, critters and fish were sparse now with the lowering of temperatures. Also the clouds looked grayer and woollier, the threat of snow being imminent. She had to find proper shelter and being a New Yorker and assuming this was New York state, the cold was merciless. New Yorkers' are used to bursts of cold but they quickly found shelter in the subways, buses, malls, shops, etc. Here, since everybody was living off the land and there was no electricity in sight, everybody co-habits with the cold. One had to be clad like Eskimos to survive in this environment. So, she had to find civilization before she died of starvation, thirst, and hypothermia.

Meryl untangled the rope, placed it into her backpack and closed it. She looked back her niche making sure she left nothing behind, then she climbed down the rock face. Once on the ground Meryl made her way to the river and followed it down stream. She came across the area where she swam up shore with the boy. She assumed the Native's village was nearby. It only confirmed that there might be more civilizations if she continued following that river.

However, she heard the water suddenly roaring ahead and flowing more energetically than usual. She sped up her pace and came to a screeching halt, gasping at what she saw.

The river cascaded down a drop of probably 100 feet to a pile of spiky and jagged rocks below which then joined into a calm, narrower river below. Her thoughts went back to the time she saved the boy from drowning; if she hadn't reacted fast enough then both would have been splattered against the rocks down below. It made her feel queasy. Nevertheless, she finally had her vantage point.

She saw smoke, ships (with fucking sails) sailing and even a bustling city further in the horizon where the forest was extensively thinned out to make place for the population. At this point the forest was sparser and thinned out with occasional clusters of dense forest, but there was still a lot of ground to cover which made her sigh with defeat.

"What is up with these fucking sail ships?!" she groaned to herself. "Where are the actual modern era steel ships, carriers, oil tanks and that shit?!"

And still no fucking cars! What. The. Fuck.

Was it stupid of her to keep that hope alive that she would eventually stumble across some modern contraption? Even a fucking Coke can would make her ecstatic.

She went along the ridge hoping that it would somehow level out and bring her to the bottom, luckily it did much further along, but it was very gradual. Judging from the path she took, it had been down trodden by others, probably a popular route as climbing down the rock face was suicidal. She did not like taking this path as it was heading towards the east rather than north towards the city, it placed a greater distance between herself and the city. Meryl sighed.

Within 2 hours she had finally reached the bottom of the ridge. It surprised her how different the terrain was in comparison to above. There was an obvious wide path that was regularly used judging from imprints of carriages, horse hooves and foot prints. The trees at the bottom were more dainty and elegant looking than their sturdy and stocky counterparts above where the waterfall was. She found a lot of white birch trees with their tall slim trunks and slim branches towering over her while green shrubberies lined parts of the ground. Most of the forest around her consisted of groups of white birch trees. If she had arrived here earlier in the Fall month the red leaves against the white trunk and branches would have been a gorgeous sight. Here most leaves were now covering the ground, leaving patches of forest barren with the occasion of a few pine trees. It appeared the forests in this area were thinned out and had been logged leaving behind the useless but beautiful white birch trees. This environment was almost straight out of a movie where the Natives appear from behind the trees or something.

She came across a path that went westward while the other went eastward. It was a fork-in-the-road decision again. Of course, if she went westward she would be back on track to the city and civilization, find a shelter, maybe help or something, but somehow her gut was telling her to go more eastward. She groaned to herself, looking in both directions.

"Fuck you gut. I am going to the city where my chance of survival is higher." She grumbled and proceeded to walk westward towards the city.

She walked for maybe an hour when the path turned into an enclosed forest made of white birch trees. The moment she stepped into the towering cluster of forest, an unsettling quietness fell upon this area. Now the feeling of being watched was tenfold. Her right hand gripped her knife which was tied at her belt hoop. Her awareness sharpened. Again she was in the midst of a perfect location for an ambush.

In the moment of her distraction of looking behind her shoulders and checking the area, a slender but athletic built Native Indian appeared just a few feet away. Meryl almost leaped backwards in surprise but found she was suddenly surrounded by Natives. She pulled out her knife and went into her crouching combat stance. However, when the Native that had blocked her path approached her, she recognized him.

"You… you saved my son." Said the Native in halting English, his brown eyes were grave and his body language guarded.

Upon closer inspection, he was a very attractive Native who was maybe in his prime but with the sign of age showing around his eyes, forehead and his apparent laugh lines. Meryl had never seen such a smooth and tanned complexion like his before. Deep set almond eyes, pronounced cheeks with a squared jaw. There was some familiarity in his facial features to that hatchet-wielding maniac, but the maniac's face looked mixed whereas this one was the real thing.

The Native stood at arms-length away from her while the other Natives that had accompanied the man were close behind her and obviously armed.

"Yes, I did." She responded back also guarded and unsure about the Native's intentions.

The Native looked at her, partly skeptically and partly with an analytically look in his brown eyes.

"Why...?"

His question somewhat threw her off. _Why?!_ His question implied that _nobody_ would have done this, which was very very odd for Meryl to grasp. Would nobody go and save a life, a child's life?

However, it was slowly making sense, this environment, the red coats and the free Natives running about…

"It was the right thing to do." She replied without hesitance.

He looked at her with a stunned expression as if a person like her would never have done this.

"What are your intentions?" he demanded with sudden hostility.

She was baffled by his tone. Wow, the fact that saving a life meant demanding a favor in return, was a little fucked up. Did nobody back then just save a life because the person was in distress? She waved her palms at him dismissively with a nervous smile.

"My only intention was to save him, because if I hadn't… he would have died." She reassured him with a calm and sincere expression, not breaking eye contact with the Native. "If I wanted something from you, I would have asked, but I didn't."

He gazed at her intently, trying to detect the lies in her eyes and face. It was somewhat disturbing the lack of trust, but if it was indeed back in the colonial years, well she didn't blame them. Many of the colonials and the British red coats were fucking assholes back then. Of course some were nice and co-existed with them and so forth, but if one has been wronged so many times it was difficult to forgive. He seemed to have found no trace of deceit in her expression and he also appeared surprised that she wasn't demanding anything from them. His body language appeared to relax a little and he waved at his fellow Natives to lower their weapons.

"You are not from here?" he looked at her from head to toe, scanning her appearance and noting the combat knife at her side. "I have never seen a colonial dress like this before."

_Well, of course not, I am a woman from the 21__st__ century…_ If only she could say that.

It appeared he didn't need an answer as he was busily looking at her garments.

"What sorcery did you use on my son?" he asked, raising to meet her eyes with the gravity of his question.

It immediately struck her when she realized that CPR had not been invented yet. Through her Marine training she had learned that chest compressions, mouth-to-mouth, had existed throughout recent centuries, but it was not named CPR. CPR was coined in the 1950s. The methods of now in the modern era versus in the past had substantially improved. How the fuck was she going to explain this to them? It was like trying to explain what electricity was to somebody who never saw it before. So, she decided to take the technical approach.

"I… firstly breathed into his mouth to inflate his lungs to try to make him breath again, then pressed down on his chest a few times to try to get his heart beating again while also checking that he was breathing and his heart was beating." She instructed using her hands and body language to indicate the things she did so that he understood.

He listened to her with full attention, as if absorbing everything she had said. Meryl felt a little bit like an idiot because she was not sure if he had grasped what she said, but then he exhaled with a nod.

"What about your fist?"

"Huh?"

"When you hit my son on the chest."

"Oh! Oh yes, that, it hit him hard on the chest to get his heart beating again. It is not sorcery just understanding how to put pressure and stuff."

He looked at her and the explanation she gave, pondering for a moment.

"How do you know this?"

"Uhm… I was taught that." Which was true, just she doubted anybody knew what a Marine was anyway.

He exhaled with comprehension. However, his eyes sharpened and he instantly threw his fist at her, which she by reflex dodged, grabbed, twisted and forced it up his back with her combat knife at his throat.

His fellow natives yelled in alarm, spouting curses or threats in their native tongue. She quickly shoved the Native to his mates and raised her palms, the Natives had their spears pointing at her. She backed away placing her knife back into its sheath.

"It is you." The Native said, as he got back on his feet and made his mates lower their weapons.

She tilted her head in confusion.

"What do you mean?" now she was curious, but also puzzled by what he meant.

The handsome Native stood in front of her within arm's reach. A calmer expression formed in his face and body language, as if he stopped considering her an enemy.

"You fit the appearance told by the woman and child from the Kanien'kehá:ka tribe."

It really did not ring a bell, especially after the name of the tribe rolled off his tongue so fluently. The Native saw the confusion in her face. After a moment of her combing through her memories, she remembered it immediately.

"Oooooh! Yes, right, the woman and the little boy." She almost exclaimed with realization and a grin on her face. "Yeah, they left before I could check if they were fine. Are they all right?"

The Native nodded and she breathed a sigh of relief. Noticing that she had asked about the woman and child, she directed her attention to his child.

"How is your son?" Meryl's voice softened.

The Native's expression softened as well, for the first time since she met him at the river and even at this moment, a mix of emotions stirred in his eyes.

"He is a strong boy with some small injuries."

"I'm sorry to hear about his injuries, but I am happy he is alive and well."

The Native did not hide his genuine surprise of her concern. She could tell he was holding on some distrust towards her, but it began to vanish. Meryl cleared her throat.

"I… I am little surprised that you or the other tribe would remember any of this." She said, scratching the back of her head. "It really wasn't…"

"You saved three lives of two tribes." He bluntly stated the obvious, but in a manner that it was friendly yet his expression held something that she was not sure of. "Even though we are called savages by your kind, we still understand the meaning of kindness, generosity and gratitude for those who help us."

Finally, she understood the foreign turbulent emotions in his eyes. It was his hard life showing through his eyes, but it became overshadowed by the immeasurable gratitude he felt.

"I… Thank you." He stated in such a direct and sincere manner that it stunned Meryl into silence.

She didn't know how to react to this.

The Native looked over her shoulder at his men and gave them an order. One of his mates came over with a big tied bundle and stood between them. The Native grabbed the bundle and untied it revealing what appeared to be a fur poncho made from gray and white animal fur lining, some hide stockings, a hide shirt, hide pants and some leather bands to fasten the garment.

"This is a gift to repay you for your kindness."

His mate held the bundle while the Native leader lifted the poncho to show it to Meryl. She gaped at it in wonder and took it off from his giving hand.

"I don't know what to say… It is beautiful! Are you sure? Won't you or your tribe need this? This is such beautiful material." She looked at the intricacies of the beading, sewing, lined and buttoned perfectly.

This was fucking Siberia and Eskimo awesomeness! The Native showed his first pleased expression on his face, which turned him very approachable. Her face lit up with awe and her grey eyes sparkled with gratitude. She took off her bag and placed it on the floor and plopped her zippered jacket down to try on her new poncho. It fit so snugly against her frame, the fabric felt so soft, comforting, and very warm against her body. It was like being wrapped in one's favorite blanket. The lining of the inside was the softest fur while on the outside was made of the softest hide with fur trimmings around the seams of the shoulders.

"These are tights and some bindings that you wear over your legs to keep them warm." He added and pulled out the bindings and a fitted cylindrical tights.

She couldn't believe any of this! The generosity from them was insane.

"Why would you give me something this precious?"

"You earned the gratitude and trust from my tribe and the Kanien'kehá:ka's."

Meryl couldn't find the words to express the gratitude she felt. The Native was very content but also a little amused by the shock he saw in her face from receiving this gift.

"I don't know what to say… but thank you very much, I will treasure this." She expressed with genuine gratitude with her hand resting on his shoulder.

In response he placed his hand on her shoulder as well.

"You have brought change to the way I see your kind."

She returned him a smile. He called his other men who brought some supplies.

"This is for your journey. A warrior needs proper supply." He calmly added.

Meryl raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"A warrior?"

"I know a warrior when I see one." He said, his knowing eyes boring into hers.

Meryl felt intimidated by his words and pondered them. He backed away retracting his hand from her shoulder.

"You better travel quickly before nightfall, this area can become very treacherous." He warned her.

She nodded and he walked around her to stand with his mates.

"May the spirits guide you on your journey." Told the Native and he turned away, walking with his followers.

When she saw him leave and distancing himself from her, a thought came to her mind. It was foolish thing to do but maybe she could find answers that way.

"Wait!" she called out to the group, the leader stopped and turned to look at her.

"I… actually have been looking for a person." She declared to the Native leader, who listened to her careful. "He is a man, maybe of that height, muscular torso, he looks a little bit like you in hair color, skin color and eyes, actually no, his eyes were lighter brown. He wears a strange white and blue tail coat with a hood covering most of his face and he carries a hatchet and maybe 2 flintlock pistols."

The Native leader responded with a surprised expression on his face which turned to a grave and guarded one.

"You know him, don't you?" she stated and approached him, he now looked at her with an air of suspicion.

"What about him?" the Native said after a tense pause.

"Where can I find him?" she asked, not believing the words that came out of her mouth.

Why the fuck would she want to go after him?! It was like _joyfully dancing_ into the lion's den, why the fuck would she do that!? BUT _he _started all this! He led her away from the log cabin and somehow managed to bring her here! She had this gut-feeling that somehow he would be able to help her, how she didn't know.

"Why do you seek him?" the severity of his eyes and words almost seared her, making her actually question her own reasons for looking for him.

"He can help me get home…" she said quietly, lowering her eyes,

She returned her attention to his brown eyes that studied her carefully. He looked at her with distrust, he was indeed questioning her intentions, it was easy to tell, but somehow after a tense pause he opened his mouth:

"Ratonhnhaké:ton."

"What?"

"Ratonhnhaké:ton, that is the name of the man that you seek."

Meryl frowned at the name, how the fuck would she remember that name or even spell it?! The Native saw the frustration in her face.

"He is also known as "Connor" by the colonials." He supplied calmly, "He works for a black man on a cliff along the great waters, it is in the direction of the setting sun."

The Native pointed eastward which meant Meryl would have to leave the city behind and head towards the coast. She followed the direction he pointed, her mind growing restless with questions and thoughts.

"Be careful of him." Said the Native suddenly, interrupting her thoughts immediately.

She looked at him, surprised by his words, the wary expression in his eyes leaving a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Death follows him everywhere."

Meryl swallowed uncomfortably. Well, that doesn't sound promising and it is making more sense now. So, he was a warrior of some sort…

She tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear.

"Do you know him, personally?" she asked with caution.

"We are from different tribes, but we share an alliance with his people. We are aware of their activities and so are they of ours. Recently, he has saved his people's land from being sold to the colonials."

That was something that Meryl did not expect from Connor, just judging from his appearance, she thought he would be more about assassinations or maybe some mercenary work. However, if he did possess some shred of humanity towards his tribe which might be the case, his overall get-up was a perfect tool of intimidation.

"I am sorry to ask you this, but I am so far away from home and very confused." She said, remembering suddenly a pressing question she had. "Where am I?"

The Native again looked at her quizzically, as if she had asked a stupid question.

"We are a just few miles away from what the colonials call 'Boston'."

"Boston?!" she exclaimed, almost losing her balance from the sheer reality.

Motherfucking Boston?! _How in the fuck did she end up all the way up here?!_ She thought she was going to pass out from knowing this knowledge. Now the last thing she had to know, which she dreaded to ask from fearing that it would confirm her suspicion, was the year.

"Are you – are you all right?" asked the Native with some concern, he had a grip on her shoulder now trying to steady her.

"Would you know the year by chance?" she fired away, clenching her fists with apprehension awaiting the answer.

The Native shook his head.

"I don't know - Ratonhnhaké:ton should know."

Well, at least, she was spared from getting knocked out by reality, for the time being.

"Thank you." She breathed, she did appreciate the extra info he had given her.

He then patted her shoulder.

"May the spirits be with you and allow you a safe journey home."

"Thank you and I wish you the same." She patted his shoulder as well.

They shared eye contact with each other and then he parted ways with her. He joined his men and being the Kings of camouflage they disappeared into the white birch forest.


	7. Chapter Six

**Hiya everybody! Sorry for the delay . I meant to upload this sooner but I was sick for over a week .. It didn't help that my daughter got so sick too and it also didn't help that I just started class last week too . I am still combating the SINUSES =.= The great thing is I can taste food again... to some degree. It still feels numb and dull T.T**

**ANYWAY! On this snowed in day, being stuck at home with no possibility to drop off my daughter at daycare and emailing all professors that I can't come to class (because of the snow and closed daycare) - I have uploaded this chapter for your viewing pleasure :D **

**Thank you all again for your support whether it is from favoriting, following or just reading, it always puts a smile on my face knowing that people are enjoying my story :D ****Your reviews are always appreciated.**

**Have a wonderful week!**

**PS: As classes have started again, my studies will unfortunately take more priority as of now... So, please bear with me I will try to update whenever I can :D Thanks again for your support and patience :D **

* * *

**C****HAPTER SIX**

**~ At the wrong place, at the wrong time ~**

Meryl had walked eastward as instructed by the Native. She noticed the terrain changing quite a bit. It was more open with random plunges, as in sudden terracing of land with crevices caused by erosion, landslides or earthquakes. However, the further east she went the more forest begun to appear again meaning she was once again distancing herself from civilization. She groaned. Each step she made grew difficult. A part of her just wanted to turn around and head to Boston and forget about all this, but then again her gut was pointing her in the direction she was walking.

The hatchet-wielding maniac could probably help her…somehow, right?

Just asking that question to herself, made her snort with ridicule at her optimism. Yet she heard good things about him, well, helping his tribe and stuff, so that should make him a nice guy, right? Yet, she felt apprehensive about meeting him. She did encounter his intimidating presence near the log cabin… Why was she nervous about him?! She was strong too, she had a great advantage.

If she really was back in the colonial era of the United States, everybody, especially the men had extremely little expectations of women. She could abuse that advantage, play the damsel in distress and then surprise those mother fuckers! Buuuut, she had to be careful around Connor… he was different.

The sun was beginning to set and she maybe had another few hours of daylight left. This would probably be a very stupid thing to do and she was sure it would come to haunt her, but she didn't want to stop and find shelter. She wanted to trek through the night and get to this "house on a cliff". Last time she trekked through the nights she was lucky, but this time around she was in lower altitude with flat terrain that had not much shelter or even proper cover. Also she was closer to civilization which means she was likely to encounter red coats, bandits and maybe unfriendly Native American tribes. She was certain that her decision to trek through the night would have severe consequences, but she had to do it, snow was imminent and the moment it snowed she is fucked.

She quickened her pace, feeling her calves complain at the sudden intensity of the trek. At least she was getting closer to the coasts as the terrain had begun to become uneven. There were bulging roots, mushy ground, loose rocks, surging rock faces and random crevices which were thankfully more of the ankle shattering kind than body splattering ones.

She took out some deer jerky and put them in her jacket pocket. At the rate she was going and the calories she was burning, every bit of protein was important. She continued eastward like she was told but this time rather than avoiding a path she walked on a downtrodden one. It slithered along into deeper forest. The smell of salt grew stronger and the waves crashing against the cliffs gradually grew louder. The dirt path ascended gradually up a hill but then veered off to the right avoiding the hill's ridge just right in front of her. Her brain told her to follow the path but her gut told her to go straight ahead and down the hill. She stood on the rounded ridge of the hill and looked down. It was darker down below as if the trees (mostly pine) and shrubbery (those resilient through any seasons) obstructed the light. It appeared the land was descending into a pocket of unexplored terrain. She descended down the hill until she came to an abrupt halt in front of a ledge, she gripped the tree trunk close to her. The ground at her feet had eroded recently giving way to a drop of at least 5 feet. If she had not noticed this, she would have been rolling down the hill at high speed receiving concussions right and left and possible fractures. There was no way around this area, she had to climb down this muddy ledge.

She had also a very poor view from the ledge, the mix of naked trees and pines obstructed the view down into the pocket of terrain. The branches were so intertwined with other branches from other trees creating the illusion of density. She knelt to look down the ledge. She pulled out her rope, but then scrunched her face in disapproval. If she tied her rope at the tree trunk there would be no way for her to retrieve it. She had to climb down with her bare hands using the jutting roots of the soft earthy ledge. Meryl took a deep breath and lowered herself to the ground, pushing her legs over the ledge. With her legs dangling with no proper grip, she had to rely on her hands to keep a firm grip. She lowered herself painfully slowly down the ledge, her arms screaming for release. She wished she had those iron arms from her Marine days! One of her feet touched the soft ground, she smiled with relief. Out of premature and exhaustive response she released the grip of one of her hands. Her foot gave away under a rock, she lost her footing, her gripping hand released itself, sending her tumbling down the hill.

Meryl tried to stop herself, but her body was paralyzed by the momentum and centrifugal force of her rolling body. Rocks and roots delivered her blows and cuts to her body, until she came to an impromptu and forceful halt into a shallow flowing river. The sudden cold water made her shriek and bolt out of the water. Dizziness of the most horrifying kind knocked her to her knees on the river bank, provoking her body to projectile vomit the entire contents of her stomach. She rasped, gasped and hacked until nothing but bile and saliva came out. Her body shook from the cold and from her the violent vomiting. She dragged her body towards the nearest tree and plopped herself against it. The hellish dizziness was making her so incredibly nauseous and weak. She was rattled through and through and her adrenaline was still pumping through her body. Meryl couldn't tell if she had broken anything yet. She needed to rest, just for a bit...

* * *

She woke up with a start. Looking around her, finding the shadow's presence had extended further than she liked, bathing the naked forest in an menacing atmosphere. The sky overhead had a pinkish tint.

"_Fuck_! It's sunset!"

She scrambled to her feet, but tumbled down to her knees. Her right foot was in pain. Meryl took off her boot to check her right foot, no bone fracture, just some bruising and swelling meaning she just twisted her ankle. Thank God but how fucking predictable! She growled to herself, but then saw the flowing river in front of her. Maybe if she steeped her foot for a few minutes it would quell the swelling. She intermittently dipped her foot into the icy river, hissing and spouting curses to herself and to the heavens. Meryl looked at her reflection and found herself looking like a dirty street bum with disheveled blond hair, dirty stains everywhere, bruises and scratches on her face, arms, and legs. She took some of the icy water and splashed it against her face giving herself some brain freeze and another curse. Her teeth chattered, her body shook from the lowering temperature.

Meryl looked for the backpack, tracking the path she had rolled down from. She found the backpack fully intact at least 10 feet away from where she landed in the river with some of its contents strewn about. With her cold, shaking hands she grabbed the Native American garb made of hide mix with buck skin, bits of leather and fur. She stripped down from her wet clothes and began the process of putting on and layering the clothes.

By the time she was done, the sun was halfway behind the horizon. She exhaled noticing the steam escaping from her lips. The temperature had dipped so much that she was beyond grateful to be clothed in this set of warm winter clothes. It consisted of small thick hide poncho that covered her shoulder and draped down in an inverted triangle over her chest with inner fur lining and decorated with intricate needlework and beads. Underneath the tiny poncho was a long sleeved plain hide shirt that extended to her knees which was secured around the waist with a neutral colored sash. Over the sleeves of her shirt she had another type of tubular tights that she put over her sleeves and tied them with the bits of string that she was provided with. She had loose fitting hide pants with buckskin tights layered over the lower legs to keep them close to the body for the sake of warmth and agility and tucked them into her boots. The best aspect of the attire was how deceptively warm it kept her. She probably looked weird with this outfit and yes she would look better in the female equivalent of the clothes, but at this point she didn't care. If they allowed her better mobility and kept her warm, the better - survival outweighed fashion in this context. Despite its lightweight appearance, it was not water resistant, which was expected anyway from such materials.

On a happier but tragic note, her twisted ankle was feeling a bit better now as she had wrapped it with the cut off sleeve of her favorite black cotton cardigan. (She promised herself she would buy a new one once she got back home, _if she ever got back home_ that is).

Meryl was back on her feet again and now walking along the river that she had tumbled into earlier on. She noticed the river growing a little wider and deeper the further along she went. She began to notice some alterations in the environment with the little light she had left from the setting sun, stumps of freshly cut trees, shrubberies (probably herbs) that were trimmed and was that…footprints? She eagerly knelt down seeing a faint outline of boot imprints on the soft ground. This area had a lot of traffic but they all came from the same person. Judging from the small size in width and length, it was a woman, unless a man had those petite feet. Meryl's breath hitched with relief and growing excitement. Oh God, finally some civilization!

She picked up her pace moving faster than she probably should. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon and the sky was gradually darkening with the stars glowing brighter. Luckily a crescent moon was rising giving some form of illumination to help her navigate through this weird terrain. The temperature dipped further due to the clear sky and vanishing sun. Snow would definitely come soon maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but at least within a few days. The area began to clear up around and along the river, trees were cut back for space and traffic, her heart continued to hammer excitedly against her ribs.

For at least an hour she walked along the river until she came across the river bending more in-land. The path that went along the river was now obstructed by a 500 pounds boulder with a tree growing around it. She sighed. She backed up and walked more in-land to her left away from the river. The moon light only partially illuminated the outlines of the area. So, it was still incredibly difficult to spot the random holes, cracks or bulging roots in the ground. However, in the dimness of the forests she spotted a faint light emanating from a source at least a good 300 feet away. She got really excited and sped her pace considerably to match her excited breath and heartbeat. Meryl covered a lot of ground quickly until she was halfway near to the source, there was a clearing up ahead and she recognized an outline of a hut. The source of light came from a camp fire that was near a wooden house.

Suddenly, a distressed shout erupted not too far off from where she stood. Meryl froze in her movements, her eyes sharpened and her heart beats slowed down. Meryl crouched and stealthily moved in the direction of the whimpering voice which was now mingled with hushed voices. In the same pace she continued to move closer passing some thick brush and thick trees until she stopped behind a boulder. She took a deep breath and peeked over the boulder.

"Bloody Hell, Steven!" shouted a defiant woman with dark brown hair tied in a ponytail in frontier clothing. "How dare you do this to me? You have no right to steal what rightfully is mine!"

A man with black hair came up to her and smacked her hard in the face, sending her tumbling to the ground. The woman whimpered in tears.

"You conniving little harlot!" he growled with which was an early American accent, the blue of his eyes staring icily down at her. "You left with _my earnings_ – _MY EARNINGS_ to fund your getaway and set up shop in this God forsaken forest! As your husband I own everything that you possess."

"By taking all my supplies, Steven!? I can pay you back, just give me-

-Silence!" he shouted at her, but quickly lowered his voice to reveal a smug expression again, he eyed his buddy behind her. "Jim, hold her."

The woman yelped at the sudden roughness of his buddy, who had his arm in a tight lock around her throat.

Of the four men were on site, "Jim" the burly of the four contained the woman while the other two were ransacking her home and "Steven" was standing in front of her with a smug expression. He moved closer to her, his flintlock pistol drawn, he pressed the side of the barrel against her cheek and tilted her head to both sides to check out her features. The shudder he felt against the barrel elicited a smirk on his face.

"You threw away a comfortable life all for this? How pitiful." He indicated with grand arm gestures to her home and the area.

The woman gritted her teeth and snorted.

"Of course I did! Why would I stay with a man who lied about his affection for me, who hurts me and holds me prison! You two-faced, oppressive swine!"

Steven now smacked her with the barrel of the flint lock, eliciting a cry of pain and despair from the woman. Meryl's blood boiled over she grabbed a rock and threw it in the direction of "Steven". The rock hit him square in the face, causing him to stagger and yell in pain. The unexpected move caused chaos on site, rousing the attention of the 3 men. The woman slipped out of "Jim's" grip and she made a mad dash for the path leading to a small bridge. Of course, as usual, Meryl was left behind with no back-up. This was a common trend in this world, apparently Samaritans are not appreciated – one bit.

"Oh fuck me." She groaned quietly behind the boulder with her face to her palm.

Steven yelled the names of his men and demanded for the person who threw the rock at his face to show himself. Meryl decided to move but unceremoniously a twig cracked under her feet.

_Oh fuck. I am fucked._

She heard the hurried footsteps clambering over the terraced land. The moment she tried to escape she was already encircled by musket rifles. One of the men yanked her by the arm and dragged her down to the campfire with all the musket rifles and bayonets pointing at her. The man threw Meryl at the center and Jim knocked her down to her knees with the butt of his rifle.

"Oh, another foolish woman?" growled Steven, hissing at the small gash at his forehead. "The frontier turns even the most respectable of women to hysterical she-devils!"

Meryl tried to restrain herself, she tried to muffle her laughter and try to keep herself composed, but it did not seem to work. The men looked at her and each other with bewilderment until Steven's face turned red with humiliation.

"What are you laughing about, answer me!" Steven demanded, now the flintlock pistol at her face.

She immediately stopped laughing at him and returned him a neutral expression.

"You - simple as that."

Steven gritted his teeth and in his angry impulse he raised his pistol to smack her, but she caught his pistol in mid-motion with her hands. It startled him so much that she deftly wrung the pistol out of his right hand and broke his two fingers, his index and middle finger. He bellowed in pain, grasping his two twisted fingers in agony.

"Kill her! KILL THAT WHORE!"

One guy tackled her to the ground, wrestling her and delivering punches, one which she received in the face and the other which she deflected with her forearms. Jim and the other man were shouting that the other should give them a clear shot to kill her, but their wrestling and rolling on the ground prevented them from doing so. Meryl noticed the pistol, grabbed it and struck the man on the temple knocking him off of her.

"Shoot her!"

The two men clambered to reload their gun, but Meryl was too close to them. In self-defense one thrust his rifle forward with the aim to stab her with the bayonet, but she dodged it, shoved it upwards so that she could kick him strongly in his side. He crumbled with a hyperventilating sound and with a last kick to the face she knocked him out. The last one, Jim looked shocked but then growled at her and tried to tackle her, but she made him trip on his face. He rolled on his back and tried to get up, but Meryl straddled him and took the rifle and pressed it against his throat. His wide eyes from fear of strangulation, he panicked his arms trying to push her off of him. He managed to push her off of him and she swiftly takes the butt of the rifle to hit him in the face, knocking him out.

Meryl received a blow to the back of her head, causing her to collapse to the ground, grasping her bloodied head. Her vision went black and blurry with vertigo for a moment. She turned over on her back, Steven had approached her and gave her such a strong kick in the side that a yell of pain was forced from her mouth. Meryl's body coiled like a pretzel from the agony of the pain, the pulsating sensation of the pain traversing her entire body.

"How do you like that you _cunt_?" sneered Steven, bending over her writhing frame. "I will not spare you, I will enjoy destroying every part of you."

Meryl groaned, gritting her teeth, trying to get her body to cooperate, but it was considerably weakened by the lack of proper food and sleep for the past week.

She managed to croak a chuckle at him while mustering a cocky smile.

"You mean that it will be I… who will _enjoy destroying every part of you._"

"Huh?"

She grabbed his head, headbutted him in the face causing an explosion of blood from his nose. He fell back wailing at his disfigured nose and the blood. Meryl got up, and kicked him in the side making his body writhe with pain.

"How does that feel _cunt?_ Not so great, huh? How about this!" she kicked him again and he yowled in pain.

She paced around him, giving him a few kicks to his body.

"Have mercy, oh please, I beg you!"

Meryl snorted at him. She was enjoying this, maybe a little too much.

"That all depends." She moved over to his face then placed her weight on her knee over his throat, causing him to panic and croak for air. "Will you stop bothering, Myriam?"

Defiance appeared in his face when she mentioned the woman's name, but Meryl pressured her knee more into his throat causing him to desperately and unsuccessfully push her knee away from his throat.

"_Will you _stop bothering her?" Meryl reinforced her tone with a cold threat. "Or do I have to kill you?"

"I will stop! I promise!" he croaked.

Meryl stared down at him cooly, reading his behavior and speech. She pulled away completely, but then dealt him a punch to the face to knock him out.

"I know that not killing him will bite me in the ass, but I don't want to deal with the trauma – lived through a lot of shit already." Meryl mumbled to herself as she went through his pockets and then a grin appeared on her face "but stealing looted shit is funny."

She went to each thug and looted their bodies for coins. She inspected the coins closely.

"Pounds…" Meryl's heart sank with apprehension, as if the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place.

The redcoats, British accent, old Flint musket rifles and pistols, the Frontier, Native Americans roaming about… This isn't a joke anymore, the only logical explanation to all this is she must have traveled back into colonial era of America. She looked around herself, she saw the wooden hut with the door ajar. The scent of burning wood caught her nose, not from the campfire but from the shack. She ran in and saw a knocked over candle catching flame to part of the bed sheet. She instinctively grabbed part of the bed case and stomped the fire out. She exhaled with relief. At least she prevented a disaster for this woman, the destruction of these beautiful pelts on her walls would probably cost her a fortune. Meryl grabbed the broken glass casing which held the candle to place it outside on the side. Then she spotted a bundle lying on the ground that had fallen out of one of thugs hands, she walked over to it and opened it, finding a substantial amount of coins in it.

"Stop! Back away from this pouch!"

Meryl leaped back into a defensive crouching stance with her combat knife drawn. When her eyes met the source of the firm voice, the disbelief washed over her face which almost rendered her stance slack.

There he stood, imposing in his combat stance with his bulky and hulking posture. The Native American she had been looking for days, his hood was drawn back revealing his tanned face against the dim moon light and red glow of the camp fire. His white-blue tail coat with pistols decorated his hips and the striking red sash with the claw emblem glimmered against the red glow of the camp fire. Power oozed from his thick arms, broad chest and shoulders and thick legs. His presence was intimidating but very strangely awe-inspiring (Meryl probably sensed a tug of attraction or it was her masochistic side talking…). He had his hatchet drawn and resting at his side, his chest still heaving from running with his chestnut brown eyes piercing her with a guarded expression.

"Wait, this is not what it looks like. I saved her from these men." Meryl interjected quickly, her voice faltering a little from the nervousness and unexpectedly overpowering presence of the Native American.

"To get to her earnings?" he moved closer to her, his guarded behavior growing.

He moved closer, his lumbering steps displaying the heaviness of his built, his eyes narrowed with a hint of disgust when he had a closer look at Meryl.

"Why are you wearing _my people's_ clothes, _thief_?" he hissed with sudden hostility, his hatchet battle ready.

"_Thief?!_ Excuse me! I was maybe looting these men's stuff, but not hers! I created a distraction and she made a run for it! She didn't even see me!" countered back Meryl with equal hostility, showing her battling stance to him. "I received these clothes as a gift from a tribe not too far from here."

He merely stared at her, unmoved by what she said, she sighed. Hurried footsteps were heard and there appeared Myriam with another two men who had their rifles with them.

"I told you to stay behind, Myriam." Warned Connor, not even acknowledging the presence of these people that arrived.

"Pff! Why would I do that when my livelihood is at stake, Connor?"

"Lass - is this woman part of the group of men that harassed you?" asked a younger man with a Scottish accent.

"I found her looking at your coins." interrupted Connor and pointed to the bundle in front of Meryl.

Meryl groaned in annoyance.

"I was at the wrong place, at the wrong time! I was not going to steal it for God's sake! Will you stop incriminating me - _Ratonhnhaké:ton_!" Meryl shouted, but covered her mouth realizing that not only had she blabbered too much but she caused more of a stir than needed.

Connor froze with disbelief at the name that she threw at him. The determination to get her became firmly set in his expression and body language.

"How do you know my name?" his voice suddenly sharp with a threatening tone.

"I think we should capture her, lad." Noted the other older Scotsman with a graying beard, "she might be part of Myriam's aggressors."

"I agree." Said both Myriam and the younger Scotsman.

Connor looked in Meryl's direction, the distrust and hostility more visible than ever before and he nodded.

Meryl's jaw locked with anger.

"_Over my dead body_." Meryl's expression hardened and she bolted towards them.

Connor covered Myriam protectively with his body and swung his hatchet at Meryl, but she dodged his attack, grabbed the handle and delivered a blow with her palm to his solar plexus and then one across his face. His battle stance faltered, he stumbled back, almost collapsing on Myriam behind him. The other two Scotsmen shouted that they would fire but Meryl swung her legs to knock one of them on their back. The chaos distracted the younger Scotsman. She had an opening now and she sprinted.

Running away was the most brainless thing to do, especially with her lack of energy, focus, proper nutrition and direction. She had no fucking idea where she was going. Also she _knew_ Connor would catch up to her, but if she can get him away from everybody else, the better. She had to find some good clearing, somewhere to engage him. Oh, how she wanted to beat his ass too. He brought her to this place, he deserved to have his ass beat! She ran as hard as she could following a path that led her somewhere. Meryl heard him running or parkouring behind her, he was so close. His bulky built kept him slow, but not by much. His panting voice called her to stop on numerous occasions and his tone grew more and more adamant the further she continued on the same path.

They broke into a clearing where some run down wooden fences and an old red brick house was seen. She hopped over the fence, bypassing a well and an unused carriage. She ran up the stairs until she felt an object whiz pass her right ear and embed itself against the white pillars of the porch. Meryl froze in her steps.

_Did that fucker just throw…_

_His hatchet at her?! _

_AGAIN?!_

She turned around momentarily stunned from escaping a fatal wound to her head. She found him slowly ascending the white stairs with a flint lock pistol drawn and pointing at her.

"I warned you. If you step any closer to this house… I _will_ _kill you._" He intoned with threateningly through gritted teeth.

Meryl with an air of defiance dropped her rucksack against the building, yanked the lightweight hatchet and held it comfortably in her hand. She held the hatchet and pointed it at him with confrontation while stepping sideways from the house until she was completely off of the white porch. His pistol followed her movements, his eyes scrutinizing her very carefully.

"Drop the hatchet."

"Pff! Yeah, sure I will do that." Meryl snorted. "You drop your pistol then."

Connor left a safety gap of at least a few feet between them. His pistol was still pointed at her and she still gripped the hatchet tightly. There was a tense and silent standoff between the two. Meryl noticed now how tall he was in comparison to her, maybe over 6 feet, so maybe at least a head taller than her. Coupling with the density of his muscle mass in his arms, legs, shoulders, and chest – this guy was _huge_!

"What are your intentions?"

"_Intentions?_" she repeated with a baffled expression and raised eye brow. "Other than trying to find my way home, nothing much."

_Not entirely true, she was looking for him too._

"Why did you run towards this house?"

He approached just a little so that she backed up against the brick wall of the house, conveniently cornering her. Why was he being defensive about this house? Was it filled with riches or was he protecting the residents of this house?

"I don't know, I just followed the path, that's all." She stated matter-factly, confused by his protective behavior.

"Then how do you know my true name?"

She groaned, rubbing her face in her palm. She was tired, exhausted and fed up of this place. Everybody was hostile, unfriendly and unwelcoming.

"Are all you Frontier people and Native Americans incapable of having a civil and friendly conversation without resorting to killing me, hmm?" she rebuked with aggravation, gripping the hatchet very tightly. "Okay! Fuck all of this!"

She lunged forward with the hatchet knocking the pistol down with the hatchet and Connor retaliated thrusting a protractible blade from his vambrace. She deflects his attack with the hatchet. They push their blades against each other, their patting breaths and glaring eyes, drilling into each other. He shoves her hand, she stumbles and he delivers a punch to her cheek, knocking her to her knees. His punch rattled her head, with the nausea and vertigo a lot worse than usual. She felt the fainting sensation crowding her vision and spreading from the top of her head and vision. No she couldn't pass out! With a growl she lunged forward, taking them both down to the ground. They wrestle around the ground, attempting to punch and strangle each other but both managed to deflect each other's moves. Meryl's strength was beginning to diminish; she had to knock him out or something! He managed to pin her down one last time, she felt the power of her body leaving her, but with the last strength she gave him a blow with the palm of her hand up his chin, it stunned him and she shoved him off her body. She scrambled to her feet grabbed the hatchet which was near the porch. Connor was now in front of her again with her back cornered to the building, bare handed but ready to pounce her again.

"You are strong…" admitted Connor grudgingly in a panting breath.

Meryl wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Thanks, you too." She muttered, avoiding direct eye contact with him.

A tense stand off rested between the two until their breaths were evened out, but before they could react to each other, an angered voice called from behind Connor

"There you are, you little whore."

Connor turned around and Meryl's heart shrank when she saw "Steven" staggering with the flintlock pistol in his unharmed left hand. His crippled right hand helped to steady the flintlock.

"You have humiliated me enough, you little whore, now you shall die!"

Meryl bounded forwards in a sprint with the hatchet raised, shoving Connor aside and with a yell she threw the hatchet. He screamed at the oncoming hatchet. The hatchet embedded itself in Steven's chest; he staggered and fell back to the ground with blood spurting from his wound, the pistol fired over the house with a sharp burst. His agonized gurgling cries drowned in his own blood.

Meryl stood there, watching the life disappear from the writhing body and the blood spilling onto the path. Comatosed she stared at the decrepit body, her chest heaving with difficulty and the exhaustion finally hitting her like a boulder causing her legs to shake. She couldn't move, the last energy reserves were barely holding her body from collapsing.

A sudden impact to the back of her head, knocked her to her knees, her arms trying to prop her back to her feet, but all energy was gone and she fell on her sides. She willed her body to move, but it was shutting down, it wanted sleep, it wanted food, it wanted peace. Darkness began to cloud her vision followed by a head splitting dizziness. In her last few seconds of consciousness she saw a black man and a raised cane, his raspy voice growing disjointed, his presence and environment fading into silent and numb darkness.


	8. Chapter Seven

**HIYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I am so sorry guys . January, February and beginning of March was so friggen' hectic . I kept meaning to post a chapter in February but I was either too exhausted, or had school work, or my daughter was sick =.= It was so not cool T.T But I am back even though midterms and essays are looming at the end of my horizon T.T Life of a double major... T.T I will try my hardest to keep up with regular updates, I don't want to make promises, BUT if y'all keep insisting for more chapters (that it is, within reason) 'tis might speed up the process ;D**

**AND A BIG THANK YOU AND HUGS FOR FOLLOWING MY STORY, FAVORITING IT AND THE REVIEWS! They are ARE SUPER AWESOME! Thank you for the support! XD **

**Here my little gift for beginning the weekend :D Enjoy XD**

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**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**~ Davenport Manor ~**

Voices came and went mixed with light and darkness and shuffled footsteps. Her body was moved and carried about. Meryl did not know what day it was, where she was or who was taking care of her or if she was even being looked after. But nothing mattered now, not with this comforting and rested feeling. No more running around, pushing the body to its limits or the constant watchfulness. Peace and rest at last…

Meryl's senses were coming back to her when she could see and feel the sun light bathing the room. She stirred, rolling away from the light when suddenly a clanking sound prompted her awake. She looked at her left hand seeing a shackle attached to her wrist which was tied to the bed.

"_What the fuck_?" she mumbled, realizing how raspy and dry her voice was.

She immediately sat up and saw on the wooden nightstand a mug. She looked and saw it was filled with a clear liquid. She lifted it up, sniffed it and looked at it distrustfully for a few seconds. Water? After overcoming her hesitation and listing the possible reasons why they (she was not sure who exactly) wouldn't poison her, she downed the contents with a content sigh and surveyed the room.

She was lying on a four poster wooden bed in a very spacious room that had its own fire place with a mounted bookshelf filled with books lining the same wall as the fireplace. Heavy curtains were drawn closed over the window, but the small crack of sun light had woken her up. Next to the fireplace close to the right corner next to the window was an upholstered seat with a small round table. The crackling of the flames in the fireplace filled the room with some comfort and heat. Somebody had been stoking up the fire and some wood had been placed on the side.

Finished with observing the room she looked down finding herself dressed in a white cotton nightgown which was tied closed above her breasts. Then it struck, she lifted her nightgown and gasped.

"I am naked?! Whaat?! How?!" she whispered with horror, feeling vulnerable and exposed to a humiliating degree.

Of course, her clothes from home, her rucksack, her Native American grab and her bra was nowhere to be found…

"My bra and underwear…" she whimpered, her breast were not that big to begin with but having them free in all their jiggle glory felt so…exposing and more so without underwear.

She groaned to herself. When all hope was lost, she spotted at the foot of her bed, the hide shirt and hide pants – thank God. Meryl grabbed the clothes and speedily changed into them. She did almost a double take when realizing that they have been tailored for her body… The fuck?! What kind of shit was going on while she was knocked out? Did they perform some weird experiments on her too?

Meryl noticed her leather boots were laid against the wall, near to the nightstand. She got up, hissing at the cold oak wooden floor against her warm feet. The chain clanked against each other when she grabbed her boots. When she slipped them on and zipped them up, a reflective glare caught her eyes. She looked at the source which was an object glinting at her, her eyes widened with realization.

"My knife!" without thought she lunged towards the small table, but was yanked back by the shortness of the chains. "_Fuck!_"

Did somebody place it there to taunt her?! She began to reach for it, pulling the chain against her shackled hand. Why did they shackle her, seriously? Was she threat – scratch that- how was she a threat? Was this Connor's doing?

He was really protective of the house she had run to… and who was the old black guy anyway?!

The door creaked open revealing the plus 6 foot bulky frame of Connor at the doorway. Meryl's heart squeezed unpleasantly. The power of his presence changed the atmosphere in the room. His chestnut brown eyes met her grey ones with a neutral expression. He merely looked at her, stepped in, not even surprised that she was up or trying to reach for her knife on the table. He stood next to the table with his arms crossed, for a split second she thought she had seen a flicker of triumph in his countenance.

_Oh he knew! That son of a bitch!_

"I know you placed it there to taunt me, can I have it back, _please?_" she stated with an indifferent tone.

"No."

Meryl's face twitched in annoyance. Of course, how predictable! Why bother asking! She looked around and then down to the chains, inspecting them carefully. They were the weakest chains she had ever seen in her life! Made of the weakest metal ever! Of course this was only the 18th century, what did she expect? If she could twist them and pry the loop of these chains, it should twist open. But of course, no such thing object was available in the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Planning my escape." She stated matter-factly, walking back to the bed, plopping down on the bed with a defiant glare in her eyes and tugging on the chain that was attached to the bed, challenging him to intervene.

"You cannot escape." He took a step closer, the hatchet clanking against his pistol.

"Pfff!" snorted Meryl with ridicule. "Lost count of how many times I heard that one before."

"The chain has been bolted to the wall." Connor responded nonchalantly, jerking his head toward the wall behind her bed.

Meryl followed the direction he indicated, the four poster bed was too heavy to move, but after peeking behind the gap between the bed and the wall she did indeed find the bolted chain.

"Fuck!" she cursed and plopped herself back on the bed.

She swore to herself that she will find a way. Maybe a broomstick could be used as a wedge to break the chain from the bolted chain. She drove her hand through her hair, noticing the bandage around her head, especially concentrated on the back of her head. Meryl pressured it and cursed at the pain.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he suddenly asked in a calm voice, his demeanor still remained guarded and strict.

His prompt "supposed" innocent interest in her coupled by his calm voice, somewhat threw Meryl off guard. She looked at him with bafflement, scanning for a possible double meaning behind his so-called innocent question. However, she had to think how to respond to this question without rousing unnecessary attention. If she really had traveled back in time, it would probably be wise to keep things vague with a heaping of lies sprinkled here and there. Seeing no harm in the question, she cleared her throat, but remained guarded as he was.

"Extensive combat training in mixed martial arts, fighting styles, and battlefield experience."

He looked at her, his chestnut eyes scrutinizing her body language and words carefully. If he was surprised by her response or even showed some disbelief towards her words, it was impossible to tell. He remained aloof and difficult to decipher, but kept his guarded behavior to cover up whatever he was plotting or thinking.

"You're a soldier?" he spoke up calmly after the intentional pause, not with interest (maybe he was, it was really hard to tell) but for the sake of civility and alleviating the already thick tension that was floating over them.

"Well, a retired soldier." She said with pride in her tone.

Meryl knew, at least with her general knowledge in American history, women had little involvement in the colonial wars or in warfare (maybe they were involved but she did not know about it). She was expecting at any moment some derision from him, but he remained calm and civil with his watchful chestnut brown eyes scrutinizing her and her words.

"Don't believe me?" she intoned with mild annoyance, but then she shrugged off that judgment with a confident smile. "I don't really care what people think, it is a great advantage though."

Connor didn't respond but just kept his examining look on her.

"My people told me about you."

Meryl was growing more confused about this conversation, wondering why it was rather civil and not a violent brawl.

"You saved a woman and child from my village. You also saved a chieftain's son from the dead."

"Oh that…" she remembered, it felt like a long time.

"And… you saved me as well." He added, just briefly breaking eye contact with her, unintentionally exposing his wounded pride.

Meryl felt somewhat uncomfortable with being put on the spot like that. It was a natural response, at least for her, to help those in need and it was not something she wanted to brag about. If she can save a person from being killed she would, but that logic kind of backfired when she had to kill this "Steven" guy with a hatchet.

"Thank you."

Meryl was in every word baffled, she didn't know how to react or think about Connor thanking her.

"I was half-expecting a fight to break out, well done Connor for keeping your composure and diffusing the tension." Stated a mildly raspy but calm voice from the doorway.

Meryl and Connor jerked their head in the direction of the doorway.

"_Old man_." Intoned Connor with a groan.

A black man limped into the room with the help of his cane dressed in clean cut and presentable clothes with a hat on his head. He gave a wry chuckle.

"I should also congratulate you both for not tearing apart this chamber, there is only that much an old man's heart can bear."

Connor backed away to the first spot he had occupied when he just entered the room which was next to the table. The old man stopped a few feet away from her, probably knowing how far the chain would allow her to physically lash out.

"How are you doing today, my dear?"

Meryl blinked a few times, feeling weird about how civil everybody was... Did they hit her hard? Was she dreaming? Was the water poisoned with hallucinogens? She expected to be treated like a criminal and possibly tortured. It took her a few moments to recollect herself and respond to him.

"I am fine, except that I am _shackled to the bed_." Meryl said with a forced smile and a little yank of the chain.

"Yes, you are, my dear and it is out of precaution."

"Of course." She mumbled under her breath, but then she reasserted her voice and gave Connor a confrontational look. "I understand your precaution but shouldn't _Connor_ be shackled as well."

The old man gave a wryly chuckle.

Connor released a dismissive breath with a frown on his face, looking annoyed at Meryl with his arms crossed tightly at his chest. The tension was a little elevated again, but the old man cleared his throat and gave a little stomp of his cane against the wooden floor board.

"Tensions aside, my name is Achilles Davenport, master of the Davenport manor and as you know this is Connor. May I inquire your name, my dear?"

The polished and civil manner that he spoke to her with hints of a British accent was a style she never heard before. Even the way he delivered his dialogue, the body language, the tone – it was unbelievably well mannered. His English was clearly that of early colonial America, still evolving and breaking away from the traditions of the British English.

"My name is Meryl Briar, sir."

"Where are you from?"

"From New York, but I was born in New Jersey, sir."

"Huh, I see."

Meryl became tight lipped, not sure whether to be offended or that she uttered too much. Achilles was difficult to read but she had a suspicion that her English was too modern or just overall weird for them.

"Your accent is very unusual." Noted Achilles, trying to coax some more information from her and Meryl merely returned a neutral expression and response to mask her nervousness.

"Yeah well, so is yours and Connor's."

"You have a point." He admitted with the glint of amusement present again, but he kept a calm tone throughout. "May I inquire the reason why you are out here, away from your home in New York, Miss Briar?"

She looked at Achilles for a moment and felt the drilling, frown of mister broody-moody behind him. Meryl couldn't be completely honest, because if she did tell them the truth and if she was really back in time, they would consider her crazy and probably burn her at the stake like a witch. A white lie should be okay, for the moment, right?

"Uhhm, well, it is difficult to explain." She scratched the back of her head and bit her lip with uncertainty, time to put up a show. "A close friend of mine organized a reunion in upstate New York, we had a good time, there were some "disagreements" so I left. I strayed too far away from the log cabin, fell into a river and somehow ended up close to Boston. Aaand for a good week I have been wandering around this area, close to Boston."

Achilles and Connor looked at her with a calculative expression as if she had spoken some gibberish, or lied at their face and that made her feel more insecure and more guarded. After a tense pause, Achilles resumed:

"So, you are lost?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why did my people say you were looking for me?" Connor suddenly interjected with suspicion in his tone.

_Oh fuck..._

Denying it would be suicidal, the old man and Connor would probably cut her to ribbons, and torture her. The old man's appearance and polished behavior was misleading, he probably was as dangerous as Connor – although the limp in his leg looked too real to be fake. She didn't even hear him coming behind her and knocking her unconscious with his cane! And Connor, dear God, he could probably break her like a tooth pick, although she did beat his ass, to some degree.

Meryl released an aggravated and grudging breath of defeat. She stood up, the shackle and chain clanking against each other, she wrapped her arms over her chest and glared.

"Fine. I was looking for _you._"

Tension continued to fill the room, the energy grew intense and she saw Connor's hand gravitating for his hatchet. Meryl narrowed her eyes in Connor's direction, daring him to pull out his hatchet. Time for some more improvisation.

"I found Connor trespassing on my friend's property."

"Trespassing?" both Achilles and Connor repeated, Achilles with surprise and Connor with outrage.

"Care to explain, Miss Briar?"

"Sure. I left my friend's log cabin to get some fresh air, I found Connor trespassing and he threw his hatchet at me."

"Lies!" Connor rebuffed with a resounded voice, stood his ground, clutching his hatchet tightly, denying her every word. "I do not recall this."

"Lies?!" scoffed Meryl, "Are you _fucking_ kidding me? You don't remember landing in a lake, swimming ashore, hearing a suspicious sound, throwing your hatchet before asking who it was?"

"_Miss Briar_!" gasped Achilles, indignantly snapping back at her with the stomp of his cane. "I shall not condone any foul language within my manor, am I understood?"

Meryl gritted her teeth with a hiss.

"Restrain that brute of yours! He nearly killed me!"

"_Brute?!"_ Connor echoed with reproach, he grasped his hatchet now and stormed forward until Achilles blocked him off with his cane and a warning eye.

Connor puffed in anger with his lips tightly shut, his body rigid, and his eyes sharpened with a glare.

"Yes, you are a brute! Armed to the teeth, prowling about, killing first and asking questions later and recklessly endangering the people around you – who in their right mind does that, seriously?"

"Miss Briar, _that is quite enough_!" scolded Achilles with a raised voice, immediately dispersing the anger between the two hot heads in the room.

Achilles took a deep exasperated breath, restoring the calm in his body.

"I apologize for Connor's behavior."

-Old man!"

"Hush, Connor! We still have to temper your youthful hot-headedness, it has gotten you in enough trouble already" Ordered Achilles sternly, and tapped his cane against Connor's dense chest and then he looked in Meryl's direction with an equal stern expression, "However, Miss Briar, I implore you to do the same, have some restraint. Connor might be brutish with his manners, but I assure you his qualities far outweigh his shortcomings."

Achilles words appeased the anger in Connor, he looked somewhat surprised by the compliments he had received and appeared unsure about how to process them and project them in his body language and face. Meryl's lips tightened, processing the old man's words. Connor resumed his glowering stance with his arms crossed, looking down at her. Meryl bit her lip to contain herself from lashing out. He was seething with triumph, that asshole! That Connor having qualities? Psh, well, that's new.

"Anyway, in the spirit of reconciliation I thank you on behalf of Connor, for saving his life and helping his people – "Achilles eyed Connor's near retort with a scowl. –"and thank you on the behalf our Homestead community for saving Myriam." Achilles gave a curtsy of his head, holding his hat in place.

Meryl did not know how to react to the situation and just remained quiet. All of this was too weird.

"I believe we have bothered you enough for today." Said Achilles in a chipper mood now and limped over to her side, pulling out a key from his pocket. "You will not need this shackle anymore."

Meryl raised a quizzical and alarming brow at Achilles as he freed her. Connor looked like he was about to protest and she saw his grip tighten hard on his hatchet - his entire body on high alarm. Achilles backed away and limped towards Connor's rigid body. He tapped his hand reassuringly on Connor's shoulder, eyeing him with reassurance then turned around to look at Meryl.

"I'll have Miss Ingrid and Miss Marie tend to your needs. I am afraid Connor and I have some errands to run over the next few days. In the meantime, I shall confiscate your dagger. We shall talk some more once I have returned."

Meryl and Connor could not believe what Achilles had just done, they both thought he had gone crazy or senile. Then they glared at each other, daring each other to make a move. Achilles limped over to the table grabbed Meryl's knife then limped over to the doorway.

"But sir! What if I want to leave?" protested Meryl abruptly and Connor physically made himself look larger, waiting to leap to Achilles defense.

"Leave?" Achilles limped a little into the room sounding baffled by her statement. "What for, my dear?"

"Uhmm…"

Achilles did have a point. Since arriving into this world Meryl did not even have a plan. Yes, she wanted to find the culprit (Connor), but otherwise…? Pursuing Connor probably was partially for the thrill of the hunt and for licking her wounded pride, but at the same time she had that foolish belief that he could send her back home. She still had to figure out how he would fit into this equation, but it was a gut-instinct.

And, somehow this world was… fascinating. She was curious. She had a feeling in her gut that she should stay with them and her gut was rarely wrong. Her gut got her out of many sticky and dangerous situations both here and during her Marine Corps days.

"I insist you stay, Miss Briar. You need to recover from your long journey." asserted Achilles calmly and then held her knife by the leather loop. "I know you would never part from your _prized_ dagger."

Meryl's eyes narrowed and her mouth twitched.

"It is indeed such a fine weapon. I adamantly advice you to wait until our return before journeying back to New York, Miss Briar."

Meryl now was glaring at Achilles, he was humiliating her! She was the least superficial person on this planet and she would part from any object in a heartbeat, but this knife… It was more than an object, it was a _crucial _survival tool, a present, and a proud reminder of her Marine Corps days. BUT taking _her beloved knife _hostage?! She felt powerless – it was castrating. And Connor…looked more and more displeased, the frown deepening with every minute.

"And Connor can ensure your safe travel to New York."

Meryl and Connor gaped at each other with disgust and Achilles quickly cleared his throat to prevent an outbreak of protests. He rested his hand on Connor's shoulder, eyed him warningly and then looked at Meryl with a calm expression.

"I will see you in a few days, Miss Briar. I shall fetch Ingrid and Marie, they will fix you up with a meal." He bowed his head and ushered Connor's unwilling body out of the room.

Meryl plopped back down on the bed, the events that had unfolded in this room still swimming in her mind. Rather than being enlightened on who these people were and using her abilities to get out of this situation – these men were elusive! Connor was sometimes (more often than not in her presence) very straightforward yet also very mysterious, but the old man takes the cake… He was more than that. She was more worried about the old man than Connor, especially the fact that he released her and didn't seem fazed at all by the idea of her roaming the house. Achilles had her in a pinch, he knew how to press her buttons within the short time they were in the room. Was his limping, his polished appearance and speech all a ruse? He may look like a worn out and kind old man, but he probably had a history maybe like that of Connor, very battle-oriented.

* * *

"_Old man_!" snarled Connor with his voice lowered and irritated. "Has old age gotten to you? Why did you set her free? Do you not realize the danger?"

Achilles ignored Connor (also intentionally moved away from the manor out of earshot from Miss Briar) and continued to hobble down the outside stairs towards the prepped horse drawn carriage. Connor helped Achilles up and into the carriage. When Achilles was comfortably seated he looked at Connor, as composed and as calm as usual.

"Even though my movements are cumbersome and restrictive..." Stated Achilles in passive tone, but then his expression hardened. "My mind is still as vibrant and as sharp as in my youth. Your youth encourages you to question authority and all forms of decisions and it is healthy habit, however for this time – listen to me and trust my decision."

Connor braced his hands against the open carriage, leaning in closer with caution in his behavior and tone.

"Do you not recall what the others and myself have told you about her?"

Achilles returned a small smile.

"That she defeated you with her bare hands?"

"Not just-

-Connor." Interrupted Achilles gently and then sighed. "You are rightfully intimidated by this woman. However, if her intent was to kill us, we would either be still entangled in a bloody conflict with her or dead. In addition, that weapon of hers…"

He unsheathed the knife, inspecting the handicraft of the blade with a mix of marvel and interest as he held it in his hand. Connor too looked at the blade with equal interest.

"I have never seen such a sturdy and nigh indestructible weapon before." Achilles stated in a mix of awe and concern, "Varieties of weapons from different lands and styles have fallen into my hands before, however this craftsmanship is utterly unknown and foreign to me."

Connor's frown suddenly deepened with realization.

"A Templars' weapon?" he voiced with unease.

Achilles looked at the weapon with a hum, pondering the possibility.

"The Templars and Assassins have never been discrete about their advancement in weaponry, both sides (although higher ranking assassins and Templars more so) have always been on-par with each other. I am certain if this weapon had appeared I would have been informed by my contacts."

"Is she…?"

Achilles eyed him briefly, seeing the unease in Connor's demeanor and rigid body language.

"Perhaps, Connor." Responded Achilles with some unease as well. "At present we have no evidence to support her Templar ties. Therefore, I will meet one of my contacts and have them verify the weapon and her identity, they might be able to enlighten us."

"I will come with you."

"No, Connor. I need you to stay."

"Why?" he was protesting now indignantly. "I have the right to know."

"As soon as I return you shall, Connor. At this time, I need you to keep an eye on her."

"You mean _spy_ on her?!" he retorted with offense, as if his trusted master has downgraded his standards and expectations on his pupil.

"Connor, observe this as an exercise to embetter your technique. You may go on with your personal errands, but you have to watch her ever so often without giving her any suspicion."

Connor huffed and clenched his jaw, looking sideways for a moment.

"It would give me peace of mind having you linger about the Davenport manor than accompanying me."

The old man had a point which Connor did not like to admit.

"In addition, Miss Briar is quite attached to this weapon, I am confident that she will be on her best behavior."

"You are too trusting, old man." Connor grumbled.

"Maybe…" Achilles said with a small smile, looking towards the manor with a glint in his eyes.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Heya guys sorry for the delay... I am back, only temporarily, posting this in the middle of writing some essays. I felt really guilty for not posting in a while, I had everything ready and prepared for posting buuuut studies came in like a tsunami, disrupting my ACIII fever T.T Things are beginning to pile up as the Spring semester is soon coming to an end (gaaah, already! .) So, I apologize in advance for the upcoming spotty updates .**

**I prepared you a long chapter, as the title suggests there will be a lot going on XD So yeah, enjoy. XD As usual, rate and review, and let me know if you like it and don't be afraid to give me some criticism (constructive, mostly prefered ;)). Have a lovely weekend and thank you all again for following, favoriting and reading my story. You da best, you da MVP. XD**

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**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**~ 18****th**** CENTURY, MADAFAKAAAAAA! ~**

After Achilles and Connor had left the room, somebody knocked at the door and entered Meryl's room.

"Good morning to you, Miss Briar. I am Ingrid the housekeeper of Davenport Manor. How are we doing today?" announced a cheerful and vibrant voice with a mild accent that Meryl could not pinpoint, but she guessed it was European.

A stout woman tottered into Meryl's room, in a neutral dark green dress with a white apron tied in front and her dark brown hair tied up in a bun. Meryl shook herself out of her contemplation.

"I am fine… thank you...?"

The stout woman with a light complexion and freckles on her upper cheeks, beamed her a warm, motherly smile that caused her blue-green eyes to crinkle. She strode with pronounced steps to the window, pulled the curtains open and turned her full attention back to Meryl with her hands folded in front of her apron.

"I hope you are well rested?"

"I… I think I am, Miss Ingrid."

"Ach, Schätzchen*, no need to be shy and no need for formalities, just call me Ingrid, ja**.

[*note: word of endearment like "oh dear" or "oh darling"; **pronounced "ya" which means "yes" or "right?"]

So, Ingrid is European. Meryl did come across European troops in Iraq in her service and those who sounded similar to her were the German soldiers, but their accent was _pretty _strong in comparison to Ingrid's. Her accent was quite mild even muddled with other accents and since North America was still a British colonies with international immigrants, it was understandable why it sounded muddled. Being exposed to different types of dialects and accents in this young country would eventually create the American language of the 21st century.

"Ach _[oh dear]_, you must have been so exhausted, resting for 2 days like that! Herr je _[Dear God or Dear Lord]_. I could never tell how tall you were, you are taller than I imagined." Ingrid said inquisitively and walked towards Meryl, when she got up in response to Ingrid's approach. "Also very strong and healthy, which is very good, but _ach_ you have so little meat on you, come with me we must do something about that, ja?"

Within the few minutes of Ingrid cooing her, Meryl never felt so relaxed, so comfortable and so welcomed in a person's presence. Ingrid's motherly protectiveness was infectious and heartwarming that she almost forgot what got her here in the Davenport manor. Ingrid grabbed Meryl by her hand and dragged her out of the room.

* * *

They headed into the kitchen hearing two voices humming a duet, along the lines of the possibly early blues and gospel. They entered the rustic kitchen with its heavy emphasis on darkened wooden beams and dark wood tables and counters. Natural light from the windows kept the room bright to counteract the almost black wood and greying walls. Two black ladies faced the stove, one full figured while the other was still filling out and were cooking, humming in sync, their hips gently swaying to the tune.

"Is her meal prepared, Marie?" asked Ingrid as she ushered Meryl close to the dark brown table.

One of the black women turned around bringing a plate over to the table. Her complexion was that of a smooth milk chocolate, with deep set oval and dark brown eyes lined with long dark lashes. She had pronounced cheek bones, a bit of a wide nose and luscious pair of lips. Her face was wide but led to an almost pointed chin. Her body was stocky like Ingrid but curvier and sensual than Ingrid. Her light brown hair was tied back with a cloth. She gave Meryl a beaming, homey smile, flashing her pearly whites at her. She was younger than Ingrid maybe in her 30s judging from the lack of streaks of white hair.

"Welcome to the Davenport Manor, honey." She greeted with a warm southern drawl and a wink. "With the old and young master out of the house, I've made enough for us ladies to dine like Queens for the next few days."

"Marie." Sighed Ingrid. "I hope you didn't waste the supplies."

"Waste? Lord no! We have plenty. We have more supplies coming in over the next few days and I asked the young master to hunt for some critters, hares and buck."

Ingrid gave in and cleared her throat.

"Miss Briar, this Marie our head cook and this is Hanna, Marie's assistant cook."

The other woman was starkly darker in skin color, almost as black as the night. Her skin was incredibly smooth, her nose was flatter and wider, her lips thinner but heart shaped. Her face was still round from her remaining childhood features but her eyes were the most stunning aspect of her appearance. They were perceptive and almost possessed an Asian quality to them in how slanted they were with equally long dark lashes framing them. Her body frame was thinner than both Ingrid and Marie, but she had an air of grace and dignity about herself. Meryl had the feeling that Hanna was probably purely African while Marie was mixed judging from her light brown skin color.

"Hello, Miss Briar." Hanna curtsied and whispered shyly with occasional eye contact, she had an African accent with the way she pronounced the sounds of the words.

"Nice to meet you both." Meryl greeted them both with a smile.

Marie clapped her hands together.

"Let's sit and feast!"

Ingrid indicated Meryl to sit down on the bench, while she sat next to her and the other two ladies sat down on the opposite bench.

They indeed ate like queens. There was venison, soup, vegetables, potatoes and freshly baked bread. This was the heartiest meal Meryl had eaten since she arrived in the 18th century. Honestly her expectation on 18th century food was extremely low, she expected to have the diet of a beggar since arriving here, but she was happy to be disappointed. She was fortunate, because she was staying and eating with a well-off family.

While the spices on the food was limiting, these flavors were exceptionally well accentuated by the salt. Meryl was expecting 18th century cuisine to be, well, barbaric and tasteless, but they were extremely good with the limited supplies and spices they had. It was definitely more refined than if she had lived with a Frontier family, but since Achilles appeared to be a man of some kind of status, the supplies were more available and treated with refinement. Although, since this was the 18th century (Meryl finally came to terms that she had travelled back in time) hearty meals meant greasy, fatty and protein focused diet to survive the harsh life of the Frontier life. It was definitely a perfect diet for this environment, where there was always a risk of survival and death. Each meal could be one's last, that was an extreme thing to say, but it was true.

The conversation at the table was loud and filled with laughter. Ingrid, Marie and Hanna had taken advantage of the last remaining rum from the barrel and they filled up their pints generously. Meryl laughed and smiled along and sipped economically from her pint, she didn't feel safe yet to let her guard down. The domestics spoke about everything possible from tips on cleaning certain parts of the manor to gossips and men. The domestics didn't ask too many questions to Meryl but openly shared everything with her as if she was part of them. In their tipsy state, Meryl managed to gather so much information on the domestics' characters and their information that it was dumbfounding.

Marie was currently 30 years old and a former slave from a cotton plantation in the south. Her father was actually a Native American who happened to be on the plantation with her Barbadian mother. Marie was born in slavery and grew up in it for a great portion of her life, but thanks to Achilles' and his wife, they managed to extricate her from the plantation owner. She was upbeat, cheerful spirit, sassy, sensual and very forward. She was the fun of the party. She always had so much to share and she was brazen about it, but she also had a strong sense of morality, especially when the topic of slavery would briefly resurface.

Ingrid was probably the exact opposite of Marie; she was more restrained, conservative and careful with what she said due to her upbringing in a Protestant household in Hannover, Germany which was still part of Prussia. She left her home to escape the poverty and the monarchy's extreme control over their lives and the incessant wars. In New York she was courted by an Irishman and got married young and had a few children. Her family was very poor, surviving on scraps of food. She was looking for work as a housemaid and came across the limping Achilles, his arms filled with supplies and struggling to get to his carriage. She immediately helped him, earning her position as housekeeper of the Davenport manor; this was _years_ before Connor arrived into Achilles life. She was the most matronly of all, but she was very adorable in the way she laughed, the crinkling of her eyes and the occasional flush of red cheeks from Marie's TMI topics. Despite their differences in character, Marie and Ingrid complemented each other well and agreed on many points.

However, Hanna was half their age; she just turned 16 a few months ago. She was the quiet one of the group, always observing carefully, sparing a few words here and there and laughing along when needed. Whenever the laughter died down and calmness settled down she came up with very astute observations, which caused Ingrid and Marie to gape or stare at her in wonderment or with humor. Marie felt very protective of Hanna. She would pat Hanna on her head or link her arms with her bringing her close to her side, snuggling against her and complimenting and giggling at how smart Hanna was. Hanna came from the Horn of Africa (probably near Ethiopia) which confirmed where she received the gorgeous facial structure. She was a daughter of a proud war chief who had conquered many wars against other war chieftains (clan leaders). Then of course imperialist came and fucked up everything and destroyed the clan with their advanced weaponry. Hanna was sold into slavery and passed around from master to master until she was put into a slave cargo, surviving the gut-wrenching and barbaric middle passage across the Atlantic Ocean. Achilles happened to find her on an auction podium, she was 13 years of age.

Meryl didn't know how long they sat at the table. A wave of painful emotions welled up from within her as she listened to the hardships of these African ladies, slavery the scum of human invention. It left an unpleasant feeling in her stomach, if she really was in the past, this meant it was still not over, it was just at its beginning, things will get nasty in the next centuries. As luck would have it, she felt "nature's call" and she tapped lightly on Ingrid's shoulder.

"Uhm, Ingrid." Meryl leaned in towards Ingrid with her voice lowered.

"Yes, Schatz?"

"Where is the, uhhh, outhouse?" Meryl had to go through her brain to find the right word for "toilet" or "restroom", because probably these words were not even invented yet.

"It is a few feet to the left, it's a little bit in the forest, you won't miss it." Stated Marie with a wink.

"Uhm, thank you, Marie."

"Take the shawl with you. It is dreadfully cold outside." Added Ingrid, grabbing a wool shawl from a hook on the wall and handed it to Meryl.

"Thank you again, Ingrid."

Meryl wrapped the shawl around herself, went for the back door of the kitchen and stepped out into the cold.

"_Fuck balls_!" Meryl hissed after closing the door behind herself. "It is _fucking _cold!"

It was at least maybe in the 30s (Fahrenheit) or even lower for that matter. The sky was grey and murky. She should get her fur poncho back, pronto. She trudged along the frozen ground that branched off into a small patch of naked forest and before long she saw the small wooden brown outhouse. The pungent smell wafted over, shit, piss and all that sewage-y goodness. She had to hold herself from gagging. She took a deep breath, covered her nose and went in.

* * *

"Oh dear God!" spluttered Meryl when she exited the outhouse in a dash, covering her nose and face gagging at the stench.

Meryl returned on the path, but curiosity got the best of her. Instead of continuing her way to the back door, she stopped and turned walking towards the apparent cliff that the manor was built on. She came to an abrupt halt, once again almost underestimating where the cliff began and –gulps- ended. She almost shrieked when she realized how much of a deadly drop it was down to the crashing wild ocean below.

"Woah…" she stared down then let her eyes wander to her left and in awe saw an inlet which had a little dock which was now empty of ships.

The icy wind blew hard. Meryl was after all a few miles from Boston, it was billion times colder than New York and they had the toughest bunch of people she has ever met. The ocean reflected the grey murky color of the sky, but the wind caused the waves to beat incessantly against the shore and walls of the cliffs. The waves looked so menacing and unforgiving. Meryl swallowed uncomfortably. The idea that in this time period the only quick mode of transportation was flimsy wooden ships to navigate from one place to another made her stomach feel queasy with anxiety. And this is coming from a Marine soldier, the armed forces who specialize landings from U.S Navy ships and other stuff.

She heard the screech of seagulls hovering high above her and the howl of the wind slamming and dragging its face against the walls of the cliffs. The scent of salty water and the scent of the wet sand combined with the arctic chill almost scratched Meryl's face. She stared to the horizon, the stillness of it in the distant, calming her nerves and her body. Her mind felt empty and in the moment, taking in the silence, the smells and the energy of nature.

Despite where she landed, miles away from Boston and _light years away from the 21__st__ century, _she couldn't escape a familiarity to this place, specifically to Connor and Achilles, as if she had seen them somewhere, but where? Was it a story she read, was it some pictures she had seen, a movie? On top of that, she was absolutely clueless what year it was, the only thing she could gather was it was colonial America meaning 18th century. She knew she had been knocked out for two days, but month-wise it was either end of the Fall and maybe beginning of Winter.

She promptly turned around feeling a stinging chill down her spine, causing all her back hair to stand up. Meryl had reflexively grabbed for her knife, but cursed when she remembered it had been confiscated. Her eyes darted across the visible forest around the Davenport property. She temporarily stopped her breathing to calm her hammering heart and her nerves and sharpened her senses.

Somebody was watching her.

Instantly, it struck her who it was and she huffed, compelling her body to relax somewhat pissed that she was freaked by this person's presence. She decided not to call the person out and she was sure if she had called the person out, that person would definitely not reveal themselves. A confident and determined smile grew on her face, one day she will catch him and embarrass him, but right now she was cold and she had to find out what year it was to put her mind at ease.

Meryl left the cliff and walked towards the main entrance instead, walking around the house, remembering with vivid detail her wrestling with Connor and her throwing the hatchet against "Steven". She stopped at the porch, staring at the exact spot where the dead body had lain. Some blood stain was still visible on the dirt path.

"Ah there you are, Schätzchen." Called out Ingrid with relief in her voice.

Meryl leaped in fighter mode, crouched in her fighting stance, startled by Ingrid's presence provoking her to chuckle. She came outside and linked her arm into Meryl's and guided her back in the manor.

"Oh Schatz, you are still so high strung from your journey, come now, let's get you something warm to drink." She cooed with a gentle pat on Meryl's arm.

They closed the door right behind them.

"I found her, Marie." Called Ingrid into the manor, alerting the others.

"Thank the Lord." Marie's voice echoed back followed by her distinct footsteps and she met Meryl with her hands on her hips with attitude.

"Honey, we were _assigned_ to take care of you until the Master comes back."

"You mean watch me." Stated Meryl deadpan with her arms crossed over her chest, it was true. "And possibly report everything that I say and do to _said _Master.

"Lord me, Miss Briar, where did that sass come from?" Marie expressed with exaggerated appall and she touched Meryl's forehead and body. "Honey, you are chilled! Let's fix you some hot tea."

Ingrid touched Meryl's body and gasped at how cool it felt, she dragged Meryl in the living room, plopped her down on a plush upholstered seat at the fireplace. It appeared to be somebody's study, maybe that of Achilles? There was tidy desk and some stack of papers neatly placed on it.

"Wait here, I shall get you some blankets. Marie will arrive shortly with the tea." Said Ingrid and rushed out of the room.

Meryl was left to herself, feeling the heat warming up her cool body. She was fine, she dealt with cold before and had a thick skin about it. Their reaction was natural for this era one's immunity was pretty weak. Meryl's immunity was certainly far superior to everybody else in this world, she had all immunization. She sighed with content. Then she spotted not too far from her what seems to be a newspaper. Meryl immediately grabbed it and let her eyes devour its content. It was the weirdest type of paper she ever felt, thinner and less sturdy than the typical modern newspaper she had held in her hands. It was printed with an illustration at the top and center with a woman dressed in a tunic, holding a staff, sitting on something (a shield?) in front of a bird cage with a bird escaping the confines of the cage.

_The Boston Gazette and Country Journal_

_Monday, December 20__th __1773._

Meryl's eyes seared through the paper over and over, at first confused of the archaic wordy nature of the English language and its weird punctuation and "s"s that looked like "t"s. However, one sentence struck her and made her stomach drop.

[Note: This is a genuine article from the Boston Gazette of Dec 20th 1773, it has been digitized, so only the text is available. I left the text as it is on purpose, and disclaimer this _is not my work_.]

"_A number of brave &amp; resolute men, determined to do all in their power to save their country from the ruin which their enemies had plotted, in less than four hours, emptied every chest of tea on board the three ships commanded by the captains Hall, Bruce, and Coffin, amounting to 342 chests, into the sea! without the least damage done to the ships or any other property. The matters and owners are well pleas'd that their ships are thus clear'd; and the people are almost universally congratulating each other on this happy event."_

Meryl staggered, feeling her legs become wobbly from what she just read and she felt nauseous and the blood vanishing from her face. She rested her hand over the ledge of the fireplace, leaning her head against her shaky sweaty hand. She was hyperventilating.

The Boston tea party…

"December 20th 1773." She croaked quietly, the date flashing in her mind, making her body weaker and weaker the longer she thought about it.

Her legs gave away and she was now sitting on the floor, staring wide-eyed into the flames.

She did go back in time. Why was she so shocked? The environment, the lack of anything modern from cars to modern technology, the English language, the _fucking ancient_ weapons, the Red coats, Native Americans and the clothes. All clues pointed to that, her logical mind had already been convinced and even appeared to be accepting of that reality. It had been safer, for her sanity, to assume that she had traveled back in time, to keep her spirits up and be on top of the game for the sake of survival. But when it became an irrefutable truth, the shattering reality felt like the impact of oncoming car crashing into another, smashing into her body and sending her entire being into the spiral of emotional turmoil and insanity. It was akin to having that foolish and naive hope (again for the sake of keeping one's sanity) that your Marine brothers and sisters would come back from the war alive, then later finding them in body bags or coffins.

Yet she was elated and relieved that she now knew where she was and what date it was, but she was bewildered on how she arrived here. Why was she here and why in this time period? Why was she taken away from home and brought here? Then the fear, the dread of never returning home, struck her to the core. She was mentally teleported back to her Marine Corps days with that glimmer of hope that she would go home unharmed or alive despite the possibility of her death being imminent.

Tears that she thought had run dry years ago came down in heavy beads down her cheeks. Ah, this is what hopelessness and despair felt like, she remembers now.

"Um Gottes Willen! [God's Will] Miss Briar! Marie, MARIE! Come quick!" Ingrid almost screamed in horror and rushed to Meryl's side.

Meryl's face was completely pale stained by tears, leaving black rings under her grey eyes and the look of despair apparent in her face. Marie rushed in and shrieked seeing Meryl in that state.

"Make haste, we must bring her upstairs to her bed." Instructed Ingrid urgently. "Don't just stand there Hanna, help us!"

Hanna who had followed Marie was startled by the sudden scold of Ingrid and she quickly helped Meryl up.

"Marie, bring some stew up to her room and some tea. Hanna quickly help me bring her to her room."

Everybody sprang into action and within minutes they lugged her up the stairs and into her room. Hanna went to stoke the fire in Meryl's room while Ingrid removed the shawl and the boots from Meryl. She quickly undressed Meryl so that she was back in her nightgown again. Meryl let this all happen, caught in a trance. She was put to bed with the blankets draped over her shaking body.

"Ach Schätzchen. You almost made my heart stop." Whimpered Ingrid with her hand placed on her chest. "Please do not strain yourself, ja? Your body has still not fully recovered from your journey. For the time being, please use the chamber pot for your needs, I shall empty it whenever necessary."

Her words went through Meryl and barely struck her. It was stupid and humiliating that she was behaving like this, but her mind was in utter chaos and needed some sorting whether it was through simply resting or having time for herself.

The table was brought closer to Meryl's bedside with some tea and a bowl of stew. Ingrid tucked her in, caressed her hair gently with a motherly presence.

"I will check on you regularly, but for now rest, ja?"

Meryl nodded and Ingrid left the room followed by Hanna. When the footsteps receded back downstairs and only the crackling of the fire was heard, the silence fill the room once again.

"Dec 20th 1773…Boston Tea party…" Meryl mumbled quietly.

The Boston Tea party had already passed on December 16th, the front page of the newspaper was merely sensationalizing it for as long as they could, even after four days. Only two years away the American Revolution would break out between Britain and colonial America, sending this country into turmoil. Why the fuck did Meryl land in this time period where shit will hit the fan very soon?

Gradually her sanity was coming back to her when the fog of turbulent emotions lifted. Was that newspaper real, was it current or old? It looked fresh, but she had to verify to push herself to accept her current fate. But for now, she wanted to rest, drink her tea and eat her stew then go to rest. Maybe the next day she will feel better.

* * *

The next day she woke up before dawn, feeling refreshed and energetic. She got out of bed and put her hide clothes on. Meryl spotted, draped over the upholstered seat near the fire place, her poncho-like garment. She ran over and slipped it on, feeling so relieved by its comforting warmth. A ceramic bowl and ceramic pitcher was placed on the vanity dresser. She inspected it, trying to think what it was for until it struck her in memory from an old movie – that it was used to either wash one's face. She took a cloth, poured some water into the bowl and dunked the cloth then wiped her face clean. It was a bit chilled; memories invaded her mind as she looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror. She saw herself back in Kazuma's apartment washing her face over the sink and then another memory of washing her face at the sink in the Master Kang's martial art school. For some reason the memory of herself washing her face at Kazuma's place felt fulfilling and a peaceful, whereas washing her face at her rented out room in Master Kang's school was the opposite filled with loneliness. Realizing this left Meryl reevaluating her life once again, doubting her life choice and her "career" as a Kung Fu instructor. She had nothing against Kung Fu, it was a beautiful martial art with more pros than cons, but maybe that is not what she wanted to do with her life.

Is that why she was sent here? To re-evaluate her life? To change herself, to improve herself? Meryl chortled, like that would ever happen…But her amused face disappeared and was replaced by a solemn one, she stored that sentiment and thought in the back of her mind, knowing that this feeling and thought would resurface in the future.

Her stomach sunk with a queasiness. Did she even have a future in this almost "backward" and even "barbaric" world? The Frontier, the colonial wars, the lack of human rights, the lack of women's rights, high mortality rates both in infants and adults, the systematic extermination of the entire Native American population and slavery. It left such a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, well, at least (and it was difficult to admit) she was on the East coast and in the North where slavery was not as pronounced as the South. Confronting slavery on the day-to-day basis would have driven her crazy with the desire to probably kill the slave owners on plantations and anybody mistreating the slaves. Meryl clenched her jaw tightly, feeling the anger rise in her veins, what vile behavior that was. It is still baffling to her how slavery came to be an accepted practice in human history.

She sighed with a heavy heart and looked back in the mirror. Her face hardened with determination, while she is here in this world, she will help as much as possible. She found a hair brush placed near to the ceramic bowl and brushed through her blond mane. Her original blond hair which was a little darker began to grow out in her roots of her light blond hair. If only she could dye her hair up. She would have to ask Ingrid, maybe she would help. Meryl backed away from the vanity dresser to look at herself, checking that everything fitted well. A coffee would do so much good now, but probably coffee didn't even exist yet or had not arrived in the colonies. Riiiight, tea was all the rage, wasn't it? She peeked out of the window curtains, seeing the clear pinkish blue morning sky accompanied by morning fog covering the surrounding area. She wanted to go outside and stretch her muscles a bit, she felt very brittle.

Meryl went to the door, but paused her hand at the door handle, her heart skipping a beat. What if Connor was guarding the door, would he kill her?

She chortled, yeah not until she killed him first.

She opened the door, finding the hallway quiet and dimly lit. There were many doors leading to different rooms and one of them was Connor's, but she didn't know which one it was. Meryl decided to sneak herself downstairs, cringing at the occasional horrendous creaking of the floor boards (how she fucking hated that!). She heard some activity in the kitchen area, soft voices, soft chinking and clanking of pots and utensils and tapping of footsteps. Marie and Hanna were certainly awake getting things read for the day. Meryl was able to discern their speech pattern despite how quiet they were, but she didn't hear Ingrid's distinct voice. Meryl debated whether to go to them, but chose not to as they would probably want her to stay inside. So, she went down the stairs, remaining crouched and peeking from time to time from the behind the walls towards the entrance of the kitchen. Marie and Hanna stood right in front, prepping something and quietly talking to each other. They seemed too engrossed in their discussion that they didn't notice Meryl slip pass them. She swiftly moved to the entrance of the manor and quietly exited the manor.

Meryl took a deep breath and heartily exhaled, feeling the chilled air fill her lungs and invigorate her body. She would first use the outhouse and do some warm-up exercise afterwards. After she finished with the outhouse she went back to the cliff that overlooked the inlet, enjoying the breath-taking view in peace. She noticed a ship was now docked below and naturally she felt curious. However, rightfully she felt very hesitant about going down there, especially since she was currently under supervision and heavy scrutiny from the Davenport residence (which included the domestics as well). They were all curious about her, but at the same time, who wouldn't be especially in this lawless era? Meryl knew that she was too different from everybody in this world and yes, also more reserved and careful with words than they liked. They shackled up a suspicious stranger who happened to arrive at the wrong time. Either way, Meryl had been treated very nicely since her arrival in this manor (at least within the 24 hours that she's been with them), which was suspicious as fuck, but she rather go with it than resisting it. Resisting it would draw too much attention and it would be a bitch move especially towards the domestics who have been so friendly to her.

She felt itchy to move her muscles and maybe do some training to kill time and also to wake herself up. Her muscles were less tired and sore than few days ago. This area around the cliff was flat and smooth enough although hardened by the cold. She begun with a few stretching exercises to loosen the muscles and prevent more soreness from happening. She jumped lightly, shaking out her arms and legs, then rolled her neck and bend over to touch her toes while breathing deeply. The brittleness in her muscles made her curse at herself. She turned her torso around and gyrated her hips. She repeated the exercises until the muscles felt loose and relaxed.

Finally, with an excited squirm in her stomach she assumed her Kung Fu stance, but instead of starting with brute and brisk moves, she began with flowing movements with her arms and with her legs gently following her. She fell into a slow down version of Kung Fu which was Tai Chi, falling into a graceful and slow dance using arm and leg movements which imitated many of her combat techniques. It was such a personal, meditative and invigorating time where she felt she was exchanging energy with nature and herself. Also she was purging the exhaustion and other toxins from herself. It was very calming and comforting; it made her think of home and placed her in such a state of peace and heightened senses yet she managed to shut out her surroundings. Just a moment to forget what is going on in her life has helped her to cope with things.

A confident smile began to grow on her face, the tingling excitement in her stomach spreading out and filling her body with eagerness. Her stance with her legs parted at the front and behind her became grounded and lowered relying on her calf muscles, her moves became suddenly forceful and brisk. Meryl's concentration intensified the more her punches, palm strikes and heel kicks punctured the air around her. Grunts and loud exhales filled the air, Meryl was completely engrossed in her movements.

"There you are, Miss Briar! What on Earth are you doing in this cold!" called out a horrified voice.

Meryl froze in her movements, spinning her head to the source. Tottering in her direction was Ingrid, wrapped in a shawl with a scowl on her face and looking annoyed.

"Training." Meryl calmly responded, not understanding Ingrid's overreaction.

"Training?! And in this cold?!" she repeated with incredulity, sizing Meryl up-and-down then grabbed her by the arm. "Oh mein Gott [Oh my God]! You are chilled again! Let's get you back inside _immediately_!"

Meryl could not object as Ingrid looked angry and scary. She was dragged back into the house and brought to the kitchen and fed under Ingrid's insisting glare and mothering. Marie and Hanna held back giggles from Ingrid angrily muttering to herself in German. After tensions have settled, Hanna went to help Ingrid with the daily chores and Meryl was stuck at the kitchen table finishing her tea and meal. Marie turned around with a dish in her hand and cloth in another leaning against the counter, drying the dish looking at Meryl with interest.

"You are a little daredevil, Miss Briar."

Meryl returned Marie an "oh please" look.

"Well, I didn't know I had acquired another _mother_."

Marie chuckled with her eyes lowered to drying the dish.

"Ingrid feels responsible for you, hun."

"She doesn't have to be, I am fine on my own, have always been."

"I don't doubt you, hun." She grinned. "But at present until Master Davenport returns, please inform Ingrid of your whereabouts."

"Okay, I will."

"Thanks, hun. By the way, what were you doing outside?"

Meryl looked at Marie, showing she had nothing to hide and straight up told her.

"I have been feeling brittle in my muscles and tired, so I went outside and trained."

"Training, Miss Briar?"

"What is wrong with that?"

"Nuthin', hun. Are you not concerned about catching a cold?"

"Me, getting sick? Pfff!"

Marie became more solemn in her expression.

"Please care for your health, Miss Briar."

Meryl's jaw locked as she realized the motive behind the words of Ingrid and Marie and it offended her.

"Does Ingrid and your concern stem from the fact that I am a woman?" Meryl's voice came across as cutting.

Marie immediately picked up Meryl's tone and returned a calm expression.

"In part, Miss Briar, but like I said earlier I don't doubt your strength, I am just telling you these things out of precaution."

Meryl took a deep breath to steady herself. The one thing she hated is the outdated notion that women were weak and inferior to men. It is especially strongly present in the Marine Corps, chauvinistic behavior is the norm and sometimes nothing is done to change it. Some are trampled over, disrespected and even raped. Women are still restricted to certain positions in the Marine Corps, scratch that, to any kind of armed forces. Most common excuses were biological and reproductive bullshit.

"I'm sorry for my tone, Marie, but I HATE when society and men say that women are weak or even inferior."

"Uh huh, Amen to that, honey. Lord knows how many times I questioned that myself. Fortunately, Master Davenport is very considerate."

It surprised Meryl to hear that response from Marie, a woman of the colonial era. Gender roles were so clearly defined and separated, but maybe the reason why Marie was forward thinking was maybe caused by the Frontier mentality and her background in slavery. Everybody pitched in, men, women and children to work and survive. Meryl cleared her throat, she wanted to say more, because she felt she had to justify her reason for being the way she is, but that opportunity was disrupted.

"Such insolence! How uncouthed these redcoats are!" Ingrid stormed in fuming, her face puffing and red with anger.

"What is the matter, Ingrid?" asked Marie suddenly with concern.

"A tax collector accompanied by two armed red coats is waiting outside on the porch demanding for immediate tax collection of the homestead community and the Davenport property! Master Davenport has never informed me anything about this matter!"

Meryl scoffed, earning a confused expression from Marie and a stern expression from Ingrid.

"They have to be incredibly stupid or completely ignorant and greedy for doing that just a week after the Boston tea party." Said Meryl with a cocky smile. "These men are probably taking advantage of the chaos and tension of the colonies while their superiors are not watching them."

"What are you talking about, Miss Briar?" repeated Ingrid with confusion.

Meryl got up and looked at Marie and Ingrid, rolled up her sleeves and gave them a confident look.

"Ladies, sit down and relax. Let me handle the rest." She turned her heel and went towards the entrance.

"Miss Briar, have you lost your mind?!" called Marie in alarm while Ingrid was hot on Meryl's heels.

"They are armed, Miss Briar!" Ingrid pleaded.

Meryl shook her off and opened the door, finding a rotund, balding and sweating man with two red coats behind him.

"Who are you and where is Master Davenport?" squeaked the rotund man with a haughty attitude.

"I am a friend. He went away and won't be back for another few days." Stated Meryl calmly, her arms crossed over her chest. "What do you want?"

The sweaty pudgy man waddled over to the bottom of the porch and handed Meryl a sealed parchment. She opened it, rolled it out and read it. She eyed all men carefully, they all exhibited nervous ticks from sweat to twitches in their body movement. She handed the copy to Ingrid and Marie, both read the contents.

"What are the charges?" demanded Ingrid.

"Lack of payment." Answered the obese man with his annoying squeaky voice.

Ingrid and Marie exchanged looks with each other and whispered between each other.

"Master Davenport has never mentioned any of this to us."

"Why would Britain hire a fat man and only TWO weak soldiers after the Boston tea party to carry out this task?" retorted Meryl in the men's direction with a glare in her eyes.

The fat man's mouth opened and close in appall. The soldiers' body looked like they had felt a shock wave, their bodies appearing unsteady. The fat man's clammy face and dumbfounded state was all the answer Meryl needed. She descended down the porch and stopped in front of the fat man.

"Such insolence!" he squeaked sheepishly.

"Boo hooo, what are you going to do about that, _fat man_? Unleash your two puppies on us?"

The two redcoats gritted their teeth and immediately pointed their flint lock rifles at her.

"Meryl!" both Marie and Ingrid screamed in dismay and as they were about to run and protect her, the fat man raised his sausage fingers at them.

"One move and she will die!" squeaked the fat tax collector.

Meryl rubbed her face with her palm with a frustrated groan, unfazed by the weapons pointed at her and she merely looked at him.

"Look, you can stop pretending. I know you want to make some money and take advantage of this chaotic time. You are traveling under nobody's orders, I don't think the British are that stupid or I would like to think that they are not that stupid, especially since tensions are really high after the Boston tea party." Stated Meryl calmly with complete indifference to the weapons pointing at her. "So, drop the disguise and walk away, then nobody will be harmed."

"Miss Briar, what are you doing?! Stop angering them!" Ingrid pleaded now with a trembling voice, fear in her eyes.

Marie and Ingrid clung to each other.

"Be silent, you wench! Do as you are told and give me the said amount otherwise you will be shot!" spouted the fat man with menace, his face turning red. "I have been explicitly ordered by the Commissioners of Customs in Boston to collect taxes from this property."

"My ass you were! You and what army!"

"Miss Briar! Stop the provocation!" shouted Ingrid now very angry and she ran to Meryl's side.

She glared at the fat man

"For God's sake, have some decency and lower your weapons in the presence of women! I shall bring the payment!" growled Ingrid, her body trembling. "And by God, if you show your face one more time…"

She grabbed Meryl painfully by the arm and wrenched her back to the porch where Marie was.

"I've sent Hanna to fetch Connor." Whispered Ingrid urgently and cautiously.

"What?!" Ingrid covered Meryl's mouth to silence her, Meryl removed Ingrid's hand with a defiant look. "Forget Connor! I can handle them."

"You can't! Connor will catch up to them and bring it back." Argued Ingrid back holding Meryl firmly with now pleading eyes. "Please, let Connor take care of this."

Meryl gritted her teeth. Ingrid went into the house while Meryl and Marie waited outside. Marie saw Meryl's body occasional quivering with anger; Meryl looked up to Marie, exchanging a tense eye contact. Then Meryl turned away from her.

Ingrid came out with a pouch, walked down to them and handed it to them. Meryl's chest heaved with anger, breathing heavier, her body growing tenser. Ingrid walked away from them and the tax collector continued his merry way to probably the other parts of the homestead area.

"Miss Briar, please do not endanger yourself like this." Ingrid warned her, patting Meryl on her shoulder.

Meryl stood transfixed, staring straight in front of her, body tense and heart beating fast. Ingrid rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

"Connor can retrieve the payment."

Meryl moved away from her touch, looked her straight in the face with defiance and disapproval.

"I find your blind dependence on Connor very disturbing." Argued Meryl through gritted teeth, holding back from lashing at Ingrid. "What if he is far away? What if he fails?"

"He always finds a way and never fails." Said Ingrid with full conviction and Marie appeared at her side with equal support.

"I wouldn't worry, hun, he is very though fella and also very thorough."

"Are you both serious?" Meryl scoffed with disbelief. "Do you not see the problem with this?!"

"Ach, Schatz, please calm yourself. I am confident this will be solved, but for now we cannot do anything." Soothed Ingrid linking her arm with Meryl trying to calm her rigid body. "The Frontier is a terrifying and merciless place, especially for the ordinary woman. I've come to accept that some things are better left for the men."

Meryl backed away with a grave expression, rejecting every word that Ingrid uttered.

"Are you serious? All this sounds more like an excuse."

"What do you expect of us, hun? To run after them with our frying pans?" intervened now Marie with a snap.

"Yes!" countered Meryl sharply, "Fight back! Take back what they have taken from you!"

A tense pause fell on the women. Ingrid then sighed.

"Miss Briar, I understand your anger and we appreciate your strong sense of justice, but it is wiser to let the Master and Connor handle this." Ingrid came down to her side and caressed her arm with understanding. "Master Davenport explicitly informed me if such an event should occur, we should quietly comply. We should not hastily judge these men. We also do not want to draw the attention of the British to this area, because the Master's tense relationship with the British crown. We are not certain whether these men are just con men or official tax collectors commissioned by the British crown. As you pointed out, tensions are high at present, so we must remain composed. It would not surprise me if there was a garrison of red coats stationed not too far away from them."

To Meryl's disbelief, Ingrid managed to reign in her anger and replace it with a sense of logic and composure. Her breathing was still heavy with adrenaline and her body ready for combat, but as she began to mull over Ingrid's response, her body calmed down substantially. It made sense and acting out would be a dumb move. It would instigate unnecessary conflict and attention. The American Revolution was bound to happen sometime soon, why speed it up? Meryl clenched her fists and growled in the direction where the men left.

"Ingrid, I can take them down, you know?"

Ingrid decided not to give an answer for the fear that it would rile up Meryl some more. Of course, Meryl read it as he doubting her words.

"You don't believe me?" Meryl was offended.

"Schatz, I do believe you," reasserted Ingrid her voice and her point "I doubt Connor and the Master would fabricate this story about you saving Connor, his people and also Myriam."

Marie joined the ladies with a chuckle and draped her arm around Meryl's shoulder with an amused expression.

"Hun, you should have seen how devastated Connor was about getting "outsmarted" by you. Oh lord, that was treat!"

Ingrid laughed and chimed in with a comment.

"It did not help his ego that it was a _woman, a powerful woman_ who outsmarted him this time." Ingrid added with a grin.

Despite her anger somehow their lighthearted attitude softened her up. Marie and Ingrid laughed wholeheartedly which brought a smile on Meryl's face. They returned back into the manor in good humor like the event earlier on had never happened.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Heya! How are ya all doing? ... I am so exhausted and stressed . The semester is coming to an end and papers, presentations and finals are around the corner... I don't wanna! . So before I disappear into the dark abyss of stress and writing papers in the month of May, here is another chapter :D**

**Again much thanks to the favoriting, following, it means a lot to me. I wanted to thank you for your reviews, especially the recent ones, I appreciate them ****immensely! It is great to hear that you all are enjoying the story XD**

**Okay, I better go... back to writing papers T.T have a wonderful weekend my fellow readers. **

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE**

**~ Christmas Eve preparation ~**

Three days had passed since the incident with the so-called fat "tax collector". Meryl finally verified the date of the newspaper article she had found in the sitting room. It had been current and it was soon Christmas. The little incident of a few days ago was forgotten and had been handled. Hanna had managed to get Connor, who luckily had been nearby helping out with the Homestead community. Hearing that it had been swiftly dealt with left Meryl relieved but at the same time she was annoyed, because she wanted to help. It appeared (and that was a general pattern in the days that she stayed at Davenport manor) that whenever Connor confronted a certain situation, it was so quickly handled, ironed out and forgotten. It made Meryl suspicious, because it probably meant that he had special ties that would allow him to get off Scott free. Connor was not a simple errand-boy that was clear. That body built, the weapons, the way he walked about, how would that translate to some errand-boy?

On the topic of Connor, since Meryl's arrival in the Davenport manor, not once had she seen Connor. Not once has she come face-to-face with him, _however _she knew he was spying on her occasionally, not in a peeping-tom way, but more like supervising her and probably trying to find out who she was, etc. She only heard his name spoken between the domestics, but never faced him. It was an odd behavior; if he had been ordered to watch her wouldn't it be better if he showed his face more to intimidate her? Or maybe she was intimidating to him, which made her grin, well she did beat his ass, not really, more like stunned him with her –ehm- _female prowess_.

Either way, Connor was the last thing on Meryl's mind. She went on with her daily morning exercise and had dedicated the 3 days to helping out the domestics with cleaning and prepping the Christmas Eve dinner. It was a fun time, everybody was cheerful. Marie was in the most festive mood, singing most of the time, her beautiful soulful voice infecting everybody with her festive spirit. Christmas spirit was so very different in this time period, it was humble and conservative, with a strong emphasis on preparing the food and dining room. The smells of the dishes wafting around the house mixed with herbs, and sweet cinnamon permeated everywhere. Now the only thing that was needed was snow. The sky had been a murky grey in the past 3 days. Marie made a bet with Ingrid that it would snow on Christmas Eve and Ingrid made a bet that it would snow on Christmas day. Meryl was surprised by Ingrid's behavior, she never thought she would gamble as she was a devout Christian, but Marie could be very persuasive, so why the hell not.

On Christmas Eve around midday, Achilles had arrived, everybody stopped their work and went to greet him like it was custom. He had so many little parcels with him, that it almost filled Meryl's, Marie's and Ingrid's arms. Hanna helped Achilles out of the carriage and helped him up the stairs and into the manor. He was seated in the sitting room, on his upholstered seat next to the fire. Tea and some treats were brought to him.

"I see, Miss Briar, that you have settled down well. Are you feeling better?" he inquired his voice sounding gruffer than usual but with genuine interest and a warm glint in his dark eyes.

Meryl nodded with a smile. It still was somewhat unsettling how nice he was to her, was it common courtesy? Or he simply did not see her as a threat.

"I don't think I have ever been this well treated, in a while."

"I am glad to hear that, it confirms that I have chosen my domestics very well." He chuckled and sipped his tea, sighing contently at the taste of it.

"How was your trip?" Meryl asked, just to be polite and to keep the conversation going.

"Very well, actually, I dare say it was very enlightening." He answered calmly with a sudden penetrative gaze in his eyes.

It made Meryl uncomfortable which raised her heart beat a little. Achilles cleared his throat after taking another sip from his hot tea.

"How has Connor been treating you?"

Meryl's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name and her physical reaction confused her.

"Well…I guess?" she shrugged with a quizzical expression on her face. "I haven't seen him at all since you left."

"_That boy_." Sighed the old man heavenwards.

"But," Meryl added with a confident smile "I commend him on his stealth, because I never caught him watching me."

Achilles' expression remained calm and composed, but there was a small change in his demeanor.

"Nothing escapes your attention, Miss Briar."

"Not always, but in this new environment and with my background you grow another set of senses and eyes behind your head."

Achilles chuckled wryly at her response, then paused to sip on his tea and to gaze in the flames of the fire. The crackling of the flames filled the silence.

"My dear, would you be so kind as to fetch Connor?" he asked with his eyes fixed to the flames.

"M-me?" stammered Meryl, dumbfounded by that sudden request.

"Yes, dear. He shouldn't be too far off; Ingrid told me he is by the docks."

"The inlet, you mean?"

"Yes… If it bothers you I can send somebody else to-

-No, no, please, I can handle it. Your request was very sudden and unexpected, but let me get him for you, that is the least I can do to repay you for your hospitality." interjected Meryl gently with a nervous smile.

Achilles nodded with a small smile and Meryl left the sitting room.

* * *

_Oh Fuck me…_

What the hell is wrong with her?! Why the fuck was she so nervous around this guy?! He is just a guy! A man! A strong Native American man, nothing else yet her mind and body are acting like it was the first time she had seen or heard about a man. She has been surrounded by men in the Marine Corps and has seen everything, hair, balls, penis, ass, everything – it should not even phase her, yet there she was stammering and nervous like a sheltered, innocent girl. _What the fuck!_

Yes, he was different from the men she has met in her life, but come on!

She stepped out of the manor and stopped at the cliff to see how she would get down to the shore.

"Again staring off into the distance, honey. Are you missing your lover, or somethin'?"

Meryl almost shrieked and turned around to find Marie walking over to her smiling coquettishly at her. Meryl crossed her chest and returned an unimpressed face at her.

"Yeah I wish. Anyway, Master Davenport wanted me to get Connor from the docks, do you know the way?"

Marie's interest was instantly piqued.

"Oooh, the master ordering you to get Connor, hmmm? Usually he sends Hanna to get him, how curious indeed."

"Look, I don't know what you are trying to say and this point I don't want to know, but can you tell me how to get there."

"Sure, hun. You can take Connor's route which is basically jumping down the cliff, either into the water down below or running along the edges until your reach the docks." She explained casually and Meryl returned her "are you serious" face which made Marie chuckle. "I am just pulling your leg, hun. If you follow the path right in front of the manor and go in that direction it will directly lead you to it."

"You are not trying to get me lost, are you?"

Marie gently smacked Meryl on her back with an amused scoff.

"Lose ya? Nah, hun, you make things _interesting_ around the manor."

Meryl smiled at her and then moved in the direction that Marie indicated.

"Don't worry, hun, he don't bite." Added Marie with a wink.

Meryl paused and turned back with a raised eyebrow.

"Well you've never met him in combat."

"True, hun, but he is a real swell guy, and sometimes a pup."

"We'll see about that - anyway gotta go." Meryl said with a grin.

"Come back to the kitchen when you're done, I need some help with preparing the dinner dishes."

"Okay, Marie."

And finally off she went, walking along the path that descended gradually which then broke off to the right. She went right and continued in a quick pace. It was the first time somebody had sent her out or even trusted her to do on an errand beyond the Davenport manor. Meryl still felt weird and suspicious about Achilles' behavior towards her, but for the time being she will pretend like this was an act of sincerity and politeness. She began to jog now, the cold had gotten to her. She had fashioned herself some leg and arm wraps made from buck skin, mimicking Connor's style from vague memories of him. He probably saw her more than vice-versa, but she had a good memory, at least that's what she thought. Either way, she was getting closer to the docks as the terrain descended quite a bit and the trees grew sparser, the path followed the curve of the inlet until she finally came to a clearing where she saw the elevated wooden docks and an enormous ship parked along it. Meryl stopped in her movements, her heart almost jumping to her throat.

_What is the fuck is wrong with her?!_

She had no time for this! She had to get him. Meryl took a deep breath, raised her chin, set her expression to that of neutrality and walked on. The docks were somewhat busy, men were leaning against the cargo and crates, chatting idly while others scampered about hauling cargos onto or off the ship. The closer she approached the dock, the bigger the ship was. It was dark in color with a white streak along its body and long masts. She had never seen a _fucking wooden ship _in her life, maybe in movies, but never in actual tangible life. Then she saw Connor emerging from the ship with a large barrel in his arms, walking down the plank and placing it on the deck where the other sailors sat. He gave them small smile when they patted him gratefully on the shoulder, thanking him for his help.

_The fuck?! Connor and smiling?! He can smile?!_

Meryl continued her pace, her footsteps echoing with every footsteps against the wooden deck of the docks, drawing the attention of the sailors but not Connor's as he had rushed back onto the ship.

"Well good day to you, young miss." Announced a distinct and charismatic voice.

Emerging from the group of lounging sailors, was a middle aged man with greying hair and a greying beard with deep set eyes and pronounced dark eyebrows. His face was weather-beaten and held the hardship of experience in the lines decorating his face. Yet his serious face lit up at the sight of her and of course he put on his best face. He was the only man well-dressed enough which separated him from the rest of the sailors. He wore a long coat made of patches of red and black fabric, a belt slung across his chest and carried himself with determined strides.

"And you are, Miss…"

"Briar, Meryl Briar, sir."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Briar." He took Meryl's hand and placed a light kiss on top of it, trying to charm her. "I am Robert Faulkner, the captain of the Aquilla."

She chuckled at his manners, in part charmed and weirded out by the man, it wasn't revolting in fact it was tastefully executed, not pervy or leery, just very respectful. Meryl looked at the ship in awe.

"She is a beauty, sir."

"Aye! A woman of my heart! Fortune has smiled upon me today."

Meryl chuckled at his response and she noticed the sailors were now fully observing her.

"Are you new to the Davenport Homestead?" Mister Faulkner asked.

"Uhm, not really, I am just visiting."

"Hmmm, indeed. May I inquire why you have graced us with your lovely presence down at the docks?"

Meryl had been a little bit distracted by her nerves and the beauty of the ship, that her answer came out as a stammer.

"Oh yes, right! I am looking for Connor, Achilles needs him."

For a moment Faulkner looked disappointed, but did not let it affect his spritely behavior towards her.

"Connor!" called out Faulkner to the ship.

"He's below deck, capt'n." Yelled back a sailor.

"Well, don't just stand there and get him!"

"Aye, sir!"

The sailor went below and called for Connor. Within a few seconds Connor emerged from below deck and stood in front of the loading ramp.

"You called Mister Faulkner?" Connor's face froze at the moment when he saw who Faulkner was talking to and when Meryl met Connor's gaze.

"Yes, Connor, come here."

Connor's body had gone rigid with tension. Meryl's heart almost gave away from looking at him for too long until she broke eye contact with him first. Connor walked down the ramp causing it to groan under his built and he lumbered slowly over to Faulkner's side.

"What are you doing here?" asked Connor unabashedly direct, inciting a horrified gasp from Faulkner.

"Now, Connor that is not how you speak to a lady!"

Faulkner sighed and resumed his charming smile.

"You have never informed me that you had a beautiful guest at the manor, Connor."

Connor looked at Meryl with a sharp eye, his displeased expression resting on the word "guest", but Meryl returned a defiant look, her hands resting on her hips, daring him to say otherwise.

"She arrived a week ago." Said Connor, nonchalantly.

"A week ago?! And nobody has informed me!" retorted Faulkner aghast.

"I am sorry, sir. I was very exhausted from traveling." Added Meryl quickly and sweetly to diffuse the tension.

"Oh, please, Miss Briar, needn't apologize. I hope you are well rested."

"Yes, I am, thank you for your concern, sir."

She could feel Connor rolling his eyes at her, but she didn't care at this point. She now drew her disinterested attention at Connor.

"Achilles came back and wants to see you."

"And he has sent you to get me?" his tone remained unabashed and unconvinced.

"Yes! Is that a problem?"

"…" he didn't reply but kept a scrutinizing eye on her which made Meryl sigh in defeat.

She returned her attention to Faulkner with a smile.

"I have to get back to the manor. It was nice meeting you and your men, Captain."

"My pleasure, Miss Briar." He bowed at her.

She returned Connor an impassive expression, turned around and walked back on the route that brought her to the docks in the first place.

* * *

Meryl was just a few yards from the entrance to the manor. Connor had not followed her and she really didn't give a shit. She had an excuse prepared in case she met Achilles.

"_What are you doing here_?" she mocked with exaggeration Connor's almost woody and emotionless voice. "Well, fuck I would like to know that myself!"

"Hello there." Called out a voice from behind her.

Meryl turned around to find, Myriam the huntress coming out from the forest with her rifle slung on her back and arms filled with some freshly gutted kills. Meryl saw ferrets, hares and maybe a few birds.

"Hi." Meryl greeted back curtly with a neutral expression.

Myriam stopped in her tracks on the path with a few feet separating the ladies from each other.

"You are still residing at the Davenport manor?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

There was a tense pause between the ladies. Meryl didn't want to be involved with this right now, as it was this woman and some of the Homestead people that got her tangled up in this mess. Myriam felt the tension and she cleared her throat.

"I kept meaning to meet you; I wanted to apologize for embroiling you in the incident in front of my cabin. Thank you for rescuing me and my supplies."

Meryl's facial muscles gradually lost its intensity, leaving her more neutral than annoyed. Intentionally, she left another pause rest between them, rearranging her thoughts and trying to restart the conversation. However, Meryl's thought was suddenly struck by the memory of her impaling "Steven" with the hatchet.

"I am sorry…" the words slipped out of Meryl's mouth and her voice was quiet and her eyes lowered.

"Oh, please don't apologize for that heartless bastard!" Myriam interjected adamantly. "He had it long coming."

"I killed your husband."

"_Former husband_."

Meryl exchanged a tense stare with Myriam's sincere expression. There was no hate or revulsion in her eyes or countenance.

"You have removed a burden from my heart and I am eternally grateful to you." Myriam reasserted her tone with the continued sincerity that she projected.

In spite of herself a smile began to form on Meryl's face and she returned eye contact with Myriam, displaying the warmth of appreciation on her face. Her body relaxed. Myriam was very receptive to Meryl's lowered guard and display of affection. Myriam grinned at her.

"Are you heading back to the Davenport manor?" asked Myriam and Meryl nodded. "May I join you? I want to give them some of my fresh supplies."

"Sure." Meryl nodded, showing no qualms whatsoever.

Myriam joined her side with an excited gait to her stride.

"Where did you learn to fight like that? I have never seen a person let alone a woman move like this." inquired Myriam with sudden curiosity which made Meryl chuckle.

"You won't believe me even if I told you."

Myriam gave a little bit of a pout.

"Nobody would believe that I am female hunter living alone in the Frontier."

Meryl chuckled again, nodding at her valid point.

"That is true, well, I am a former soldier."

"_A soldier, you_?" she repeated with astonishment, her eyes scanning her from head to toe. "Under whose regiment?"

"Not with the British, if that is what you're implying."

"No, no, of course not!"

"Yeah, if Connor and Achilles would have discovered that, well…" snorted Meryl

"You don't sound British, where are you from?" Myriam was really curious, she did not leave a moment to pause in the conversation

"I was born in New Jersey, but grew up in New York."

"Huh… what an interesting accent you have."

"Yep, that is what I have been told."

Finally, a pause settled between them, Myriam looked like she was mulling over the conversation but she was quickly back at it again.

"I apologize that may come across as impertinent, I can't fathom a woman being a soldier."

"Fathom, as in understand, right?" Meryl had to verify, because some of the sophisticated vocabulary that these people used around her were completely foreign.

Myriam nodded.

"It is not easy, men still resist it, but it has its _great_ _advantages_." Meryl winked at her playfully. "Especially in this new environment."

Myriam had a flush of red cover her cheeks, but she grinned back remembering something.

"Connor was utterly caught off guard, no woman has ever struck him down or evaded him."

"I know, that is the best part of it all, men _least expect it from a woman_."

Meryl and Myriam laughed. They finally arrived at the bottom of the manor and climbed up the stairs.

"What is your name?" asked Myriam.

"Meryl Briar and you?"

"Myriam, nice to make your acquaintance, Miss…"

"Meryl is fine, we are equals."

Myriam was somewhat surprised by Meryl's response but then smiled appreciatively back. A mutual connection and respect was created between the two independent women. Meryl entered the manor with Myriam right behind her. Myriam immediately declared her presence which roused the attention of Marie, Hanna and Ingrid.

"Nice to see you, honey." Marie glided over to Myriam and gave her side hug, looking down in awe at Myriam's catch. "All this for us?"

"For the sake of festivity and gratitude."

"Oh hun, you are too kind. Hanna bring that to the kitchen and boil a kettle. Do you want to join us for some tea?"

"And some liquor." Myriam added with a grin and indiscretion.

Marie and Ingrid slapped her on the back and laughed. All women went into kitchen.

"Did Connor get back?" Meryl inquired over the noisy clatter of tea cups, saucers and platter.

"Ja, Schatz, he is with Master Davenport in the sitting room." Said Ingrid, busily working on the Christmas Eve roast.

"Hold on. Hun, did he leave you without guiding you back to the manor?!" remarked Marie with exaggerated intonations of appall in her voice.

"Uhm, well…"

"He didn't?!" Marie and Ingrid repeated in horror, exchanging a scowl with each other.

"I don't remember raising a boy with such lack of decorum."

"Ingrid, Marie, it's fine, really." Meryl interrupted gently both disappointed women. "It was already awkward enough for me to approach him, to talk to him and I made it less awkward for the both of us by leaving quickly. And I got to meet Myriam on the way, so it wasn't that bad."

Her encounter with Connor at the docks was truly awkward and she was glad to have slipped out of it without having Connor accompanying her back to the manor. Ingrid taped her foot on the floor disapprovingly while Marie had her hands on her hip sharing Ingrid's sentiments.

"It is not safe to walk alone in woods, especially as a woman."

"Oh God, really, Ingrid?" groaned Meryl, rubbing her face. "Do you have to bring this up every time? Yes, I am a woman, but I can defend myself."

"Not from wolves and bears, hun, especially unarmed."

"But you send _Hanna_ to fetch _Connor_ all the time!"

"Yes, we do, Schatz, but she knows the Homestead forest like the back of her hand."

"Are you telling me that Achilles send me on a suicide mission to get Connor?! Well, it didn't work, I am still alive. " which earned the repressed laughter from Myriam, Hanna and Marie.

"Ach, don't be foolish, Schatz, he would never do that." Ingrid scoffed and patted Meryl on her shoulder soothingly. "He sent you to get Connor, because he trusts you."

Meryl twitched her mouth with a raised unimpressed eyebrow.

"I'll see it when I believe it - oww."

Marie gave a gentle smack on her back without giving her a comment, but giving her a dose of her sassy face.

"Hun, it has nothin' to do with doubting your strength as a woman, it is simply by common decency and gentleman behavior that a man should accompany the woman back to her home." Marie supplied calmly, over the clatter of pots and pans that she placed on the stove, emphasizing "gentleman" with a dreamy tone.

Meryl huffed with her arms crossed over her chest. _Gentleman_. That kind died out of her world.

"Anyway, let us drink!" intervened Myriam very eagerly at the sight of tea and pints of liquor.

Tension was diffused again, the ladies interchangeably navigated between sitting down and helping to prepare the dishes while maintain the animated chatter. The candles were lit in every room; darkness of the night began to overtake the homestead and the Davenport manor. The temperature dropped considerably pushing the domestics to stoke all the fire places in the manor.


	11. Chapter Ten

**SURPRISE MADALUVERS! **

**Hey guys! I just managed to crawl out of Hell's mouth carrying my charred body with me with a brand new chapter in my hands (surprisingly it didn't catch fire one the way out O.O) and I will be returning back into it shortly... Oh God help me T.T. But yes, another chapter to start the month, yaaaaaaaay! XD **

**The reason why I am giving you another chapter so quickly after Chapter 9 is because I will be _busy_ for the month of May and June (and mayyyybe into July we will see) T.T It's no joke . And the second reason is because chapter 9 and 10 was technically ONE HUMONGOUS CHAPTER before I decided to chop it down for reasons that you will see once you read chapter 10. So, if you were wondering why chapter 9 had a somewhat abrupt ending, well, that's why . Sorry about that, it won't happen again .**

**Once again thank you all for your continuous support, it means a lot to me, seriously, it does :D Keep doing what you do.**

**Have a wonderful Month of May! I will see you in the next update!**

**(Don't worry, I will be working on this story regardless :P Can't stop...It' . . . . But yea, once things are calmer I will be back :P)**

**Now back into the fiery pits I go, byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~ **

* * *

**CHAPTER TEN**

**~ Best Christmas Eve party EVER! ~**

The dining area was prepared and set with elaborate plates, utensils and a several decorative candle holders. Meryl helped as much as she could, but became confused by the amount of utensils needed, a fork, a spoon and a knife was just enough for her, but apparently more was needed. It made her nervous. No, actually, the whole idea of her sitting within close proximity of Achilles and _mister moody-broody_ made her uneasy. She would prefer to chill with the domestics, they were a load of fun. However, Ingrid had gone back to her family who were within the Homestead community while Marie and Hanna remained.

All hot dishes were placed on the table, turning the dining table into a beautiful and delicious display did Marie and Hanna quickly change out of their work clothes which was the simple removal of their aprons and tied up hair. They brushed their hair, down and tied them in an elaborate and beautiful fashion that highlighted their facial features.

And there was Meryl, looking like bum.

Marie had preemptively dragged Meryl into her room, forced her into a corset that made her boobs almost explode out of the top her plain dark thick cotton dress. The dress hugged her form nicely, giving her feminine shape that she thought she never had. The dress' collar dropped down in an half-oval with a little coquettish flair. Some frills decorated along the edges at the collar and end of the sleeves. Hanna tied Meryl's hair up, as Meryl had probably the longest hair from the rest of the women.

"Why am I the only one getting this, uhm, "spruced up" for this occasion?" Meryl asked, feeling a little sheepish with how much attention was being given to her.

They had even rubbed her up with oils and scents. This was getting too much. They were treating her as if she was part of the family when she was clearly not!

"It is an experiment I had been planning to do on you for a while now." Added Marie with a mischievous glint in her eyes and in her smile. "And it is Christmas Eve too, we can't have you lookin' like a man."

"What does that mean?!"

"Hush, honey, just play along."

"But you and Hanna aren't even wearing a Corset!"

Marie groaned and playfully squeezed Meryl's cheeks between her thumb, index and middle finger.

"Please, indulge me in this honey, I want to see with my own eyes the impression you create on our fellow _men_."

"M-m-men?! More people?!" Marie covered Meryl's mouth with her finger to stop her stammering.

"Come on, we'll have some fun tonight."

"Can you at least loosen the corset a bit?" whined Meryl.

"All right, a little bit, hun."

She loosened the straps to the point that Meryl could actually breathe a little better. They finished preparing her and in the dimly lit room she stood in front of the mirror, gaping at how she looked.

"I thought I would never wear a dress."

"Now, you are, hun." Marie came to her side, resting her hand on Meryl's shoulder. "Whatcha think?"

Meryl looked at the dark navy dress in the dim light, it hugged her breasts and rested on her hips than dropped straight down to the floor, although there was much space for movement.

"Uhm, nice?"

"You mean _ravishing_." Corrected Marie sternly. "What do you think, Hanna?"

"Very lovely." She quietly responded.

"How long do I have to wear this?" Meryl groaned.

"Until we all retire for the night."

"Which means early in the morning, right?" added Meryl dead-pan.

Marie chuckled, patted her shoulder than linked her arm with hers and dragged her out of the room.

"I am not ready for _this attention_, Marie." Hissed Meryl in a low voice with anxiety gripping her, but Marie didn't respond and just continued to drag her along.

There was more activity and sound coming from downstairs now, the mingling of laughter and chatter created a festive atmosphere. But Meryl was not liking any of this. She was downright confused about this. Why would they have her be part of this when she was practically a stranger to them? It has been only a week, yet they treat her like they have known her for life, well except Connor, God knows what this man's feelings were towards her. Gripped by uncertainty, she froze in her steps, prompting Marie to unexpectedly let go her go before entering the room.

"What's wrong, honey? You have the jitters?"

Meryl lowered her eyes, a mix of emotions flooding her body.

"This is too much to handle, Marie."

"Why?"

Meryl paused, wringing her hands nervously.

"I am practically a stranger to this household."

"Pff, nonsense, honey! Not to me, Ingrid or Hanna."

"But to the others, Achilles and Connor specifically." Meryl said in a low dejected voice. "At first I was shackled, treated like a prisoner then suddenly released – can't you understand how conflicting this all is to me?"

"Perfectly, Miss Briar." Said a mildly rasping voice behind them. "However, that should not disrupt the cheerful and festive spirit of Christmas Eve."

It startled Meryl to the point that the remotest emotion she had on her face had disappeared leaving a neutral expression. Achilles hobbled to her side, he was dressed in his best clothes as well.

"You look lovely tonight, Miss Briar. The dress suits you well."

"Thank you…?"

"Could you accompany me into the dining room?" he offered her his arm. "My leg is quite bothersome at present."

"Uhm, sure, Achilles." Meryl hesitantly placed her hand on his arm and they walked into the dining area.

The laughter and chatter seized the moment they had appeared. The room was filled with so many unfamiliar faces that it stressed Meryl more. There were at least over ten people or more, she recognized the Scottish lumber jacks, Myriam, Hanna, Marie, but the other faces she really didn't give two fucks about, because she was stressed out of her mind.

"Good evening to you all and a merry Christmas Eve to you. May I introduce our guest, Meryl Briar from New York." Announced Achilles graciously to the guests.

Meryl looked around the room, feeling all the eyes resting on her. Then she saw _him_, all the way in the back of the room leaning his back against the wall with his arms over his chest with his serious face on lock down. His expression almost came across as distrusting and tense. He was the only one in the room that didn't bother to dress up.

_What's with that frown, seriously? _

_Was he constipated? _

That thought lightened up her mood and she mustered a smile. Fuck him! She will enjoy the night. Achilles led her to the guests, the first people that came to her were the Scottish lumberjacks.

"Hullo there, Miss Briar." Greeted the bearded Scottsman with a grin accompanied by the other younger Scott. "We wanted to apologize for the little misshap with Myriam."

"Aye, sorry 'bout that, Miss Briar." Added the young Scott.

"Oh, uhh, no worries, it happens." Meryl said with a nervous smile.

The party was now in full swing, everybody took a plate of food from the buffet table and drank heartily. Captain Faulkner had been also invited and he drank to his heart content. Faces from the Homestead and beyond were invited. Marie and the Scottish wives were chatting loudly in the corner between bouts of laughter, munching of food and pastries while Hanna remained in the presence of Connor. She listened to the conversation that happened around Connor with a glass of wine in her hand. She was smiling brightly albeit shyly at times.

Meryl had been sitting a seat away from Marie and the noisy Scottish wives, watching absently the people in the room. She saw the grand father clock ticking away, agonizingly too slow, the hour hand resting at 9 PM.

"Only 9 PM." Meryl sighed with disgruntle in her glass of whatever the fuck it was.

Was it rum? Beer? Wine? Moonshine? Argh, she really didn't give a fuck. This shit was not getting her drunk enough and quickly. At least Connor looked like he was "mildly" or even pretending to enjoy himself, talking away with the lumberjacks and other men which made Hanna smile. There were fleeting moments where his face lit up, his facial muscles sometimes awkwardly trying to make him smile but he kept repressing it. He never had a toothy smile on his face. The dead giveaway of his emotions were his chestnut brown eyes, they acquired a certain warm glint about them which allowed others to see his emotions. Or at least he allowed that to happen. His body looked more relaxed, not guarded or tense, he at times used his hands to express things or lightly touched whoever he spoke to. He kept unwavering eye contact with whomever he spoke. She couldn't hear how much his voice changed when he spoke to those familiar to him, as the clatter of dishes, chinking of glasses, loud chatter and laughter blotted out his voice.

Meryl instinctively lowered her gaze when she saw Connor had directly looked at her from across the room. Her heart jumped to her throat.

_The fuck, was wrong with her? Why was she staring at him in the first place?!_

"Hanna looks positively happy." Marie suddenly said with a little poke of her elbow into Meryl's side.

"Yup, she does." Meryl stated with indifference and looked at Hanna's beaming face. "She is _thoroughly enjoying_ Connor's presence that's for sure."

She downed the contents of her glass with a hiss.

"Huh, you noticed?"

Meryl nodded without even looking at Marie. It was pretty obvious from the beginning. Hanna was always all smiles and flustered whenever Connor was mentioned. And she always was the one to get Connor whenever Ingrid, Marie and Achilles needed some help with manual labor. She was shy about her feelings, like a school girl with her first crush.

"Pretty obvious, symptoms."

"Symptoms, honey?" Marie eyed her with a raised eye brow

Meryl rolled her eyes and looked at Marie with a forced smile.

"Oh I am sorry, I meant "traits" or "patterns". Is that better?" Meryl corrected herself with exaggerated sarcasm.

"That is a very detached manner of viewing love, honey." Marie noted with concern, but then widened her eyes in realization with a knowing smile spreading on her face. "Does your bitterness stem from the lack of finding love?"

Marie's words struck Meryl so strongly that she quickly scoffed at Marie, to cover up her insecurity.

"No, actually life has made me bitter instead." answered Meryl nonchalantly, without looking at her, painful repressed memories of her mother, her grand parents death and even the losses in her Marine career flooding her body.

Meryl took a deep breath, to quickly clear her emotions and feelings. She put up her best smile in Marie's direction.

"Anyway. I will get me some more of _whatever the hell it is_ and come back, I am not drunk enough to enjoy this party." Meryl got up from her seat, grinning at Marie.

"Careful now, hun. Watch your liquor."

Meryl chortled at Marie's sass.

"Pff, do not insult my Scottish ancestors, liquor runs through their veins."

Marie laughed at her comeback. Meryl got up and winked at Marie. She made her way towards the dining table, she looked at the pitchers finding them empty. She sighed. This was going to be a looooooooong night. She looked around, then headed into the kitchen and lo-and-behold liquor in dark bottles! Meryl exhaled in utter bliss as her fingers gripped the smooth surface of the bottle. She looked around her, checking if anybody was watching her. Meryl grabbed the bottle, wrapped the wool shawl around herself and stepped out of the back door of the kitchen.

The chill of the night air hit her strong against her body, almost like the impact of a truck. Hah. _Truck_…

Fuck.

She walked to her now proclaimed favorite spot on the Davenport property, the cliff - secretly and officially christened "Briar cliff"…that has a nice sound to it. She heard the waves crashing against the rockfaces below, drowning out all sounds around her.

Fuck, she was homesick. She wanted a Cheese burger, Mac and Cheese, Doritos, Cheetos, Coke, COFFEE, a shower, and a warm bed! With her teeth she uncorked the bottle, spat the cork on the ground and took a few heavy swigs of the liquor with a hiss.

"Damn, that _fucking_ hit the spot!" She hissed almost delirious with pleasure.

"I have never seen a woman vigorously relishing a bottle of liquor." Spoke out a British baritone voice from behind her.

Meryl almost shrieked, nearly losing the bottle and also her footing. (What the fuck is wrong with this world, with people surprising her like that?!) The person quickly steadied her, both his warm hands clasping her upper arms.

"My apologies, Miss Briar, I didn't mean to startle you." His baritone voice was apologetic, the silvery-quality of his voice almost teasing her ear.

Meryl abruptly broke from the person's physical contact and stepped away having actually forgotten the warmth of a man's touch _(Oh God had it been that long already?!)_. She finally faced the individual, quickly putting the liquor bottle behind her back to save herself some dignity, but that failed when she saw who had approached her.

In front of her stood, a tall and slender man, dressed in very well-tailored clothes which complemented his slim frame. His garments consisted of a heavy dark wool embroidered coat which extend to mid-thigh highlighted by thick stitching or braid around the lapels and along the golden metallic loops and buttons of his coat. Underneath the coat peaked maybe a dark silk waist coat which was completely buttoned, accompanied by a silk scarf wrapped around his neck. He wore knee-length breeches that fit his lower body rather, uhm, snugly which also held in place his dark stockings. Over these stockings he wore a dark leather riding boots that again were perfectly tailored for his calves. The ruffles from his white shirt sleeves poking out of his coat's sleeves was such a strange thing. 18th century fashion was downright comical to look at, especially if it was ill-fitting, but damn this man… Meryl could not ridicule the wearer of this particular outfit.

The face that accompanied that body was of light complexion as if he didn't get much sun. His hair was auburn and wavy, tied back in a low pony tail. His face was equally slim, well shaved, and oval with pronounced cheek bones and an angular jaw and squared chin. He had a fine nose and fine lips. The area of his dark eyebrows protruded a bit to frame his deep set eyes which were difficult to see due to the dim light of the starry sky. A dazzling smile appeared on his face which made Meryl's heart skip a beat. _(Since when has she become a fucking damsel?!)_

"Are you all right?" he inquired with concern, maintaining his charming infectious smile.

Meryl was speechless for a moment, but then quickly cleared her throat, her senses and logic returning when realizing there was a stranger talking to her, a rather good looking one, outside and away from everybody else.

"I am fine, thank you." She replied in a reserved manner, scrutinizing him carefully.

The young man who was maybe in his early thirties, leaned his hand against the cane he had brought with him. He then cleared his throat.

"May I join you?" he asked her, raising his eyes to meet hers.

"Uhm…" Meryl could barely utter a sentence, this man was dazzling her senses with his charms, maybe his _applied charms_.

It made her feel more guarded now, this guy was the dangerous kind that women fell for and who disappeared at the sight of trouble. She also could be completely wrong, but she had to remain on her guard and if he turns into a rapists, he will be the first 18th century man to have his testicles torn off.

"I haven't seen you at the party, Mister…"

"Alexander Leighton, Miss Briar." He answered calmly, his smile was toned down a bit (Thank God!).

"Nope, I haven't seen you or heard of you at the party."

"I was there when Master Davenport introduced you to the guests."

"I would have _seen you_, you are very hard to miss." Justified Meryl with a curt tone in her voice, then realizing that she said this out loud.

"So are you, Miss Briar." He added with a confident smile.

_Fuck. The game is on! He wants to play, okay fine, we will play._

"And why didn't you approach me earlier on, hmm?" Meryl crossed her arms over her chest with a raised eye brow.

Not once did this man's behavior falter or flinch, he kept his playful face and charm.

"I was discussing business with Master Davenport."

"Where?"

"In Master Davenport's study, right across the dining room."

"How about afterwards?"

"May I inquire the reason for this Spanish inquisition interrogation, Miss Briar? Do you doubt my intentions?"

"Of course I do." She responded blatantly, her distrust evident in her tone and body language. "Who would wait until a person is on their own and away from company to approach them, hmmm, _Mr. Leighton_?"

"Who would stroll outside by themselves with a bottle of liquor in the middle of a night, Miss Briar?"

Meryl scoffed with her hands on her hips, waving her finger at him.

"You are good." She admitted with a "touché" smile and he responded with a suave chuckle.

"I am also a rather timid gentleman, Miss Briar." He asserted, moving a little closer using his cane, but leaving an appropriate distance between them (why does he even need that?! He is not even limping?!) .

"Pff. Oh yeah, sure, _you and shy?_" she waved her hand at him dismissively. "You are pretty direct for a _shy_ guy."

Alexander's lips pursued to contain his amusement.

"You are a very peculiar woman with a peculiar sense of expression, Miss Briar."

Meryl scoffed at him, offended by his comment, but at the same time annoyed that her comments were not chasing him away.

"And you are not peculiar too? What are you supposed to be? A _timid_ _gentleman_ stalking his prey?" she back sassed him.

Alexander's couldn't contain himself anymore, his face turned red and he burst into belly-deep laughter. Meryl's face puffed up in anger and humiliation. What was he laughing about? A part of her wanted to walk away and leave that asshole, actually no scratch that, a part of her wanted to stomp his face in, but she remained still trying hard not to beat the shit out of him. When his laughter died down and he wiped away the tears, he noticed Meryl's angry face nearing its exploding point. He quickly readjusted himself, cleared his throat.

"Pardon my manners, Miss Briar," he gave a quick apologetic bow. "I cannot remember the last time I had laughed this much before. Please, forgive my indiscretions and accept my sincerest apology."

This man was good, she had to give him that, switching between the charmer and the sensitive man – props to him. But at the same time, if he truly was after her, in a taking-advantage situation, wouldn't the laughing be fatal for his ruse? Pff! She was being too nice to him. With little regard to 18th century womanly decorum she took a swig from the liquor bottle, her chin raised and eyes looking at him with defiance. He rested both his hands over his cane, the right corner of his lips raised in with a mix of amusement and some cockiness. She hissed after finishing her last swig, but she still didn't feel tipsy, with a disgruntled look on her face she stared at the remaining liquid swirling in the bottle. Where is the fucking vodka? She turned away from him, looking at the view with a sigh.

"You better try your luck elsewhere, Mr. Leighton." She declared loudly over the sound of the crashing waves down below, then she eyed him. "I am not blind or stupid, I know that cunning ruse all too well."

Alexander released a hum, leaving a moment of silence settle between them. The wind rustled the skeletal trees nearby and the waves crashed against the shore and the rockface. Meryl looked at the dark horizon, taking note of the bright stars overhead. It was impossible to see the stars in 21st century New York City due to the pollution. To her dislike Meryl felt him join her side.

"I find your company very pleasing, Miss Briar." He said his baritone voice, sounding so smooth and pleasing to the ear.

"Wow, now that is a first, _a man actually enjoying my presence_." Meryl snickered without looking at him.

"Let me be the first man to prove you otherwise." He declared affirmatively.

His statement actually threw Meryl off completely and she reflected her surprise by staring at him with astonishment. The warmth and sincerity in his face was intimidating for her, because in her experience with men, many of them had manipulated her, the weak, fragile Meryl. Yes, she had trust issues, but doesn't everybody? Especially when a rather handsome man approaches them out of the blue and please, she was not sheltered. She knew more about men than she liked to admit, especially the more grimy details.

"You have a strange taste in women, Mr. Leighton. Are you sure you are not drunk?"

Alexander chortled at her.

"I am clean as a whistle, Miss Briar." He stated calmly, both his hands resting on his cane and looking out to the horizon.

"I can't shake you off, can I?" she mumbled, chewing on her lip.

"Your strategy to warrant unwanted attention has failed on me." Alexander stated in a playful which made Meryl scoff.

"Failed on you? Oh honey, this is no strategy, this is who I am, but if you truly _knew_ me," she took a hearty swig from the bottle and gave him a mysterious eye. "You'd be running with your tail between your legs like all men."

She bit her lip, the sourness of her topic and tone making her look away to the horizon.

"Miss Briar, are you implying that I am merely judging you like a cover of a book?" he asked after a pause, earning her attention as his tone had become earnest.

"Yes. Men always do."

"Don't we all, Miss Briar?" he responded with a rebuttal, keeping eye contact with his warm penetrative gaze. "Beauty is in the hand of the beholder."

The fuuuuuuuuuuuuck?!

The intensity of his gaze coupled by his voice and what he said made Meryl's heart lurch. She looked away and sighed in abandonment. _Can this guy just leave already, please?_ He keeps her on her toes all the time, driving her stupid woman brain crazy with his witty comebacks, his voice, his charming smile and deep eyes… At the same time she had to admit that it was quite ego-boosting that a handsome man had taken some interest in her, _even in the middle of the fucking 18__th__ century Frontier_.

"I do not think I have properly introduced myself." Alexander cleared his throat, straightened himself out and faced her with a bow. "I am Alexander Leighton, a tea merchant from London, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"I am Meryl Briar from New York, nice to meet you." She curtsied, which Ingrid and Marie drilled into her.

"A tea merchant, huh? Rather interesting profession right now."

Alexander knew very well what she insinuated, but did not let that affect him and merely returned a playful smile.

"You have penchant for antagonism, Miss Briar?"

"Penchant?"

"A fondness for antagonism."

"Oooh." She realized and then smiled at him apologetically. "Sorry, your vocabulary can be a little foreign to me."

Alexander tilted his head with interest.

"Miss Briar, your expressions and speech pattern is something I have never heard before even though I have been living in the colonies for many years. Where are you from?"

Meryl's heart sank with apprehension. _Shit! _What to do? Play dumb, good idea.

"What do you mean? If you haven't realized there are so many immigrants of different countries with so many different accents living in New York, you put that together and you get what I speak. The only thing I know about is that my ancestors were Scottish."

"From Scotland?" he repeated, thinking it over and when it clicked maybe from the name and something else, he added with a sly smile "That explains your high tolerance for liquor."

_Or she was Russian and she did not know that. _

Alexander was about to open his mouth to probably question her more when an all too familiar distinct voice called to him.

"Mr. Leighton,"

In the darkness of the night there came Connor lumbering in their direction, his hatchet lightly clanking against his pistol that hung at his hip and he stopped a few feet short from them his expression grave and his arms crossed over his chest. Meryl's heart lurched at the sight of Connor which confused her and made her uneasy. Connor's intense eyes gazed both at Alexander and Meryl, but Meryl felt more self-conscious, because for some reason her paranoid body was telling her that his stare was more intense towards her.

"Achilles wishes to speak to you." Said Connor with a curt and direct tone again with an air of distrust gracing his features.

"Oh?" noted Alexander with surprise, thrown off by the interruption, but quickly he recovered by clearing his throat.

"Well now, I must not make Master Davenport wait," Alexander resumed with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he then directed his full attention to Meryl. "Miss Briar, it has been a pleasure and an honor to make your acquaintance."

"It's been a pleasure too, Mr. Leighton." She responded with a smile.

Without warning or without foresight from Meryl's part, he gently grasped her hand, bringing his face close to the back of her hand to plant a light kiss. Meryl's heart jumped to her throat, sending an electric shock through her body… when did this act and his heart shattering penetrative gaze make her so weak kneed? He backed away with a bow and with his charming smile.

"Until our paths cross again, Miss Briar."

He turned away and headed back to the manor while Meryl was left dumbstruck. Never in her life had a man done that to her, left her so utterly speechless and brain dead. Her brain had turned to mush, nothing was coherent. What the fuck just happened? What the fuck did he do to her?

"You look cold."

"Sorry, what did you say?" she stammered absentmindedly, hearing Connor's voice bringing her to the painfully realization that Connor has been there staring at her the entire time.

"It is getting colder. You should go inside." His blunt statement, actually surprisingly didn't annoy her maybe because her brain was probably still like mush.

"Okay…" she replied in a meek tone without looking at him.

She willed her body to move but it wouldn't budge, that bastard had paralyzed her with his charm. Meryl sighed. Then rather impulsively and for the sake of loosening her body, she gulped down the remaining the contents of the liquor bottle that she had been holding in her hand the entire time. She hissed when the liquor washed down her throat, leaving a burning trail behind. When she felt the numbness and the sudden heavy weighted feeling in her head, did it make her crack a big grin on her face.

"_Fuck yeah_, I am tipsy now." She cheered with both fists raised to the sky.

She misjudged the eagerness of pumping her fists in the air that it made her stumble backwards. Connor had immediately lunged for her, grabbing a hold of her arm, coming over to her side and steadying her. His rough hand grasping her arm had sent sparks down her spine. Her physical senses were set aflame. Although he was at her side and his chest just a few inches away from her arm – her senses were on overdrive. She practically felt his body radiating with heat, her body again reminding her that it had been too long since she felt a man's touch. Their eyes met, which made Meryl's stomach squirm, it was too dark to clearly see what emotions they had in their eyes.

Immediately noticing the danger of this contact, the closeness and eye contact and the fact that her inhibitions were questionable with alcohol in her body, she quickly broke away from his contact to avoid any more awkwardness.

"Thanks, I can manage." She stated succinctly.

"Are you certain?" he verified, asking for the sake of politeness rather than concern.

"Yes, thank you, Connor." She dismissively answered. "I had anyway my fill of liquor and this party. Some shut-eye sounds _damn_ great now."

She walked back at the manor with Connor walking behind her, probably ready to catch her if she fell over again. Pfff! They walked towards the manor in silence, entering through the kitchen. Meryl left the empty bottle on the table. Then she sped her pace, focusing her attention on the stairs. Luckily, everybody was too busy chatting, drinking, eating and laughing to notice her go up the stairs.

When she stood in front of the entrance to her bedroom, did she hear the lumbering footsteps not too far behind her. She turned around, back pressed against her door with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I am fine, _Connor_." She sighed with exasperation, seeing him approaching her and coming to a stop at a respectable distance.

"Your poor footing outside proved otherwise." He stated cooly.

"_Okay, Connor."_ She rolled her eyes heavenward, internally chanting to herself not to hack Connor to pieces with his hatchet. "Thank you for _your help_. I'll see ya tomorrow. Good night now."

She gave him a forced smile and a casual salute in his direction then entered her room without another word. Meryl went to her fireplace and stoked the fire, feeling the chill in the room. She peeled off her clothes, sighing with blissful relief being freed from the evil clutches of the corset and the dress. She undid her hair and slipped on her nightgown and threw herself under the covers of her bed.

A stupid smile appeared on her face as she snuggled into her pillow and within no time she was in slumber land.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Hii... I am posting this as I am drowning in my Summer classes... =.= Why on Earth did I do this to myself I will never know. I need to go punch the people who told me Summer classes were fun and easy, because it ain't. I have to do at least 300+ pages of reading for one class in just a week and at least 200 pages for another in also a week and rinse and repeat for six DAMN WEEKS... I guess that happens when you want to graduate faster and also if you are majoring in English =.=**

**Sigh... **

**ANYWAY! Back to the fun world of fanfiction. Thank you all for your continual support and encouraging words. Reading, favoriting, putting on alert and all that stuff makes me really happy. Sorry about the past two chapters being cut like that, it had to be done, otherwise it would have been too long. Chapter Eleven is another long chapter, so I hope y'all will enjoy.**

**Oh yes, one more thing. Things should calm down for me by mid-July (because the EFFING Summer classes will be done, thank God!) So, I should be back on schedule with 1~2 uploads a month.**

**I wish you all a wonderful weekend and see you at the next upload XD**

* * *

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**~ It hurts so good ~**

"Good morning and Merry Christmas, Miss Briar." Chirped Ingrid's cheerful voice as she yanked the curtains wide open, allowing the bright daylight to strike Meryl body like a sledgehammer. "Or should I say good afternoon, it is already past noon."

"_Aw, hell nah_." Groaned Meryl, burying her face under the pillow. "Ingrid, close those _damn_ curtains."

"Schatz," Ingrid tottered over to Meryl, removing the pillow from her face. "Your meal is waiting for you in the kitchen. Some food and a tea should help you with your discomfort."

"What discomfort? I am perfectly fine, just tired." Meryl said as she slowly sat up with a grimace on her face. "Why is it so _damn _bright outside?!"

"It snowed this morning."

"_Snowed_?!" Meryl got up on her feet and zigzagged to the window. After some squinting, her eyes had finally adjusted to daylight. Snow hung from the branches and covered the ground, but as her eyes scanned the area her heart skipped a beat. From her window on the 2nd floor, which overlooked the entrance of the manor, there stood Alexander Leighton halfway down the cleared steps. He was looking in the direction of the porch, talking to Achilles as she could make out some of his distinct speech patterns. Alexander was leaning riding boot against one step in front of him while the other one was a step below him. He held his cane by the middle with his gloved hand, keeping it above the ground. He wore a dark great coat (overcoat) made of wool that reached to his knees, it had a similar stitching and appearance like the coat he had worn last night at the Christmas Eve party.

He tucked a loose strand of his auburn hair behind his ear after he adjusted his three cornered hat made of dark felt. This man's posture was so refined and dignified that it was fascinating to watch. He was c_lassy as fuck_. Alexander smiled more conservatively in the direction of the house, then his eyes looked up, staring directly at Meryl's window. She gasped. Alexander's lip curled in a confident smile and he tipped his hat in her direction. Meryl bit her lip, her heart racing in her chest. Alexander looked away, tipped his hat in the direction of the manor towards Achilles. He turned around and walked down the stairs. A loud snort followed by dampened clopping of hooves approached. Connor appeared from behind the bare trees with a rope halter, walking alongside a beautiful black stallion. He stopped the horse at the bottom of the stairs and Alexander came down, exchanged a few words, handed him something and climbed the horse. Alexander was fully seated on his black stallion, he steadied the fiery horse and tipped his hat again to Achilles and rode away.

"So, this is the gentleman Marie was talking about." Added Ingrid rather curiously.

Meryl walked back towards her bed without looking at Ingrid's knowing grin. Meryl scoffed at her as she had her back facing in her direction, she pulled off the nightgown over her head revealing her bare back.

"Miss Briar," began Ingrid with an uncertain voice. "I know I should not intrude upon personal matters, but what are those markings all over your body?"

Meryl momentarily jerked at the personal attention. A tense pause settled between them. A heaviness began to spread in her stomach followed by some discomfort.

"The tattoos…or the scars?"

"Those ink markings that spread from your right shoulder to your upper back then to your left shoulder."

Meryl gave a poignant smile to herself, memories swirling around her mind.

"Those are tribal tattoos."

"Tribal?" Ingrid noted with surprise. "Like those of the Indians?"

Meryl forgot that it was part of Native American culture to have tattoos done to symbolize their prowess. She wondered if Connor had them too.

"Yeah, based off of them actually."

Meryl left a pause to ponder.

"I am surprised you haven't asked me earlier about this, Ingrid."

"Marie and I knew about it, but we never knew when to approach you on this matter."

"I see."

On Meryl's right shoulder was a tribal, flame inspired design of wolf climbing up and over her shoulder almost ready to pounce on its prey while there was another one in similar design in-mid pounce descending down touching her right collar bone. Then flame-like tribal pattern extended further along her upper shoulder blades area until it conglomerated on her left shoulder and a trickled a little down at the ball of her shoulder.

"They almost look similar to the Indians, yet very different from what I have encountered." Ingrid added, she stood just behind Meryl, probably looking at the tattoo more closely.

Meryl tossed her shirt over it, covering up her back and tattoos. With her back still facing Ingrid, she tightened her shirt by the strings at her collar and put on her pants. She sat down on the bed and began binding her arms and legs like how Connor did.

"I had that tattoo done when one of my close friends' had died in battle." Meryl said with her eyes focused on the binding.

"Schatz, I am sorry." Ingrid stated emphatically.

Meryl smiled at Ingrid and waved her hand dismissively.

"Don't worry it was long ago."

She got up after she was done, looked in the mirror and made some minor adjustments to the bindings. It was still a healing wound, the loss of friends, the loss of brothers in arms.

"And since you brought up scars, they were all received in battle." Added Meryl as she combed her hair and looked Ingrid straight in the eye through the vanity mirror.

Ingrid looked disturbed by that sudden confession. She lowered her eyes, her hands folded over apron in front of her.

"Is that why…you shy away from men?"

That seemingly innocent observation by Ingrid, was a blow to Meryl, but she quickly brushed it off with a chuckle.

"Wow, Ingrid, that is a bold statement."

"Oh, I apologize, Miss Briar!" interjected Ingrid quickly, horrified that her question was too direct. "I…I didn't meant to be so intrusive."

Meryl grinned in amusement.

"Anyway, let's go downstairs, I am starving."

"Of course, Miss Briar."

They left the room without a word. The dining room had been fully cleaned up, leaving Meryl a little guilty. She should have at least stayed up to clean up the party. Now that she thought about it, it was probably even very rude of her to have gone to bed without letting anyone know. Argh, now she felt uncomfortable about confronting everybody.

Meryl heard the loud clatter of dishes in the kitchen accompanied by movements and chatter. When she entered the kitchen she found Connor, Marie, Hanna sitting at the table, they all looked up from their chatter and their food to look at Meryl enter. Meryl's heart squeezed when Connor looked in her direction. Marie almost leaped from the bench and swooped over to Meryl's side, her warm brown eyes filled with concern.

"Are you feeling better, hun?"

Meryl raised her eyebrow in confusion, as Marie was patting her back tenderly and ushering her to the table, _right next to Connor_. Marie made Meryl plop down next to Connor, as Marie and Hanna sat together on the opposite side. Meryl's heart hammered harder against her rib cage. By God, he was huge (well, who knows maybe in that way too) and more intimidating closer up. Meryl didn't know whether she was nervous around him because of his daunting exterior or his sheer size. Those neck-breaking forearms resting on the edge of the table and the half gloved callous hands gripping the bowl and spoon – he looked more warrior-like by closer inspection. His front hair had been tied back to keep them out of his face, which revealed his prominent forehead that had deep lines from the frowning and hard life he endured.

Just a few inches separated them, their legs almost touching each other. It was ridiculous how that closeness was sending her senses on overdrive. Sitting next to him even with a straight back, her eye-level reached his only because he was hunched over. If he sat with a straight back she would have to look up to him. Being so close to him, she could even detect a pleasant earthy, wooden scent about him. His scent made her think of treading on the mossy ground in a dense forest with the sun filtering from above through the green foliage. Yet within that peaceful scent there was the undercurrent of danger and the hunt which was, uhm, quite delectable. With disinterest he had returned his attention back to eating, ignoring her presence, restoring the stability and normalcy in the universe.

"Connor said you were not well." Hanna's quiet voice spoke up.

Meryl blinked a few times.

_He what?_

It took her a moment to process what Hanna said. Wow, her expectations of Connor must be so low. The idea of him putting in a good word or a good excuse was… weird. She was bewildered that Connor would say that. Then she felt Connor almost searing glare from the corner of his eye. He clearly was "dissuading" her from countering his words. Meryl faked her best "moment of realization" face and chuckled nervously.

"Oh yes, right!" Meryl said with a forced grin. "Had a little too much liquor. Thank you _Connor_ for letting the others know."

Meryl eyed him, checking whether her answer sufficed which Connor did not acknowledge (at least openly) and continued eating the left over Christmas Eve dinner. He was sloppy in his posture and he held his spoon in his palm rather than with his fingers. It kind of reminded her of a toddler holding the utensils poorly. Yet he was a full grown man scarfing down generous amounts.

"Lord, Connor, this is your third helping." Marie sighed. "Where does all that food go?"

"Do you want me to stop?" he replied back so succinctly that he stopped his spoon in mid-motion maintaining a very committed expression as if he was dead serious about it.

"Of course not, hun! Please, eat we have more than enough to last for a few days!" rebuked Marie willfully with a chuckle finding Connor's severe demeanor funny.

Marie raised her head, peeking in his direction at his body.

"You always surprise me with how much you eat and you never grow fat from it."

"His consumption is normal, Marie. He is pretty tall, muscular, bulky and active." Meryl stated casually after taking a few bites from the food and she grinned. "I think you should be happy that _somebody_ is willing to clean out all the remaining food."

"Uh huh." Intoned Marie with a raised brow, acknowledging Meryl's response and now eyeing her. "Speaking of consumption, you haven't been eating much hun, are you unwell?"

Meryl shook her head.

"I don't have a big appetite."

"But Schatz, I still think you should eat more, you need a little more meat around your bones." Mothered Ingrid, pinching Meryl's arms.

"_Yes, mother_." Grinned Meryl with her tongue poking out and Ingrid pinched her arm harder.

"Lordy, I am surprised that you are very strong for someone that skinny."

"Thank you, Marie." Meryl smiled and eyed Connor cockily which he pretended not to notice.

Meryl knew he was listening to the conversation as he considerably slowed down his eating pace. Something was going on in this kitchen. Meryl felt a certain vibe from Marie and it looked like she was plotting something. And Connor was in the kitchen too – something was going to happen.

"How old are you, hun?" Marie questioned out of the blue, which made Meryl cough on her food.

"28." Meryl added after taking a sip from her tea.

"28?!" both Ingrid and Marie exclaimed in horror while Meryl jerked back by the sudden response, baffled by the reaction.

Even though Meryl was not directly looking at Connor, she felt he was still listening to the conversation or maybe it was her paranoia making her think that way. Growing uneasy by all this commotion, Meryl responded swiftly.

"What is so shocking about that?" Meryl demanded sheepishly.

"At your age many women are already married with children." Responded Hanna so promptly that Meryl formed a guarded expression.

Wow, so not even in this place, in the fucking 18th century, can Meryl avoid being harassed about gender specific societal expectations. Her mood was already affected by this, but she was better than this, she was an adult. She took a deep steady breath.

"Well, some people take longer than others." Meryl responded calmly "And I am one of them."

"At 28?" Marie added rather snidely.

Meryl released another deep breath.

_Don't pummel them, don't pummel them…_

Meryl forced a smile.

"Okay, tell me what is the "norm" around here? When should women get married?" asked Meryl dryly with her eyes rolling.

"15~16 years old, hun."

Meryl burst out in laughter, thinking about how she was at the ages of 15 and 16, which drew confused faces from everybody in the room.

"What is so funny, Miss Briar?" demanded Ingrid, a little bit heatedly.

Meryl calmed herself down and grinned.

"I was definitely _not marriage material _at your suggested ages."

"But your parents surely would have wanted you married." Said Ingrid.

"Maybe." Meryl replied rather curtly, the sourness of the topic left a bad taste in her mouth, killing her appetite instantly.

She had to divert the topic quickly, the last thing she wanted was to run out of the kitchen, and then an idea came to her.

"I am more curious about why _such a handsome man_ like Connor hasn't gotten married yet." Meryl directed her full attention to Connor with a playful smile, who had stopped eating and he glowered in her direction.

_Oh he was displeased._

_Nope, he was definitely pissed._

"Hun, he is as mysterious as you are." Marie stated very casually "He plays everything close to the vest, _right _Connor?"

He returned her a cool expression, which did not phase Marie the slightest. Then she sighed.

"He is only 17."

"Whaaaaaaaaaaat?!" exclaimed Meryl in honest and complete disbelief, scrutinizing Connor's face and body, going over her mind how that couldn't be true, which made him more and more uncomfortable and irritated. "You are kidding me, right?!"

"No, Schatz, he is truly 17."

Meryl continued to gape at him.

"I can't believe it…"

DAAAMN! Puberty must have hit him like a fucking truck! Meryl honestly thought he was close to her age. He is a fucking minor…with a body of a 27 year old.

"What?" Connor barked back, which made Meryl's face twitch.

"Nothing" Meryl retorted indifferently "I thought you were much older."

A tense silence brewed between them. Then for a split second she thought she had seen a flash of cockiness tug on his lip, when he reached for his coat pocket and pulled something out. It was an envelope.

"This is for you from Mr. Leighton." He placed the letter on the table in front of her and he got up with his plate, triumph and defiance in his air.

Marie and Ingrid shrieked like fan girls, pressuring Meryl to declare the contents of the letter. In the commotion, Connor had cleverly escaped out of the kitchen unnoticed by the domestics but not by Meryl, she was seething.

_That fucker!_ _He snaked his way out of it and threw her UNDER THE BUS!_

"Praise the Lord, He has graced you with an opportunity for happiness!" preached Marie very melodramatically that it made Meryl cringe.

"Uhm, your definition of happiness is clearly different from mine." Meryl supplied with disinterest. "I don't need a man to find happiness."

Marie and Ingrid gasped.

"What do you mean, Schatz?" Ingrid was shocked.

"Oh hun, have you forsaken your interest in men?" Marie was positively horrified if the issue was true.

Meryl chortled and shook her head with amusement.

"No, no, no! Believe me…" Meryl took a swig from her tea with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I am _very interested _in men."

Ingrid released a sigh of relief while Marie chuckled with equal mischief in her eyes.

"But if you don't mind, I want to read this letter in private."

"Of course!" exclaimed Marie with excitement, went over to Meryl, forced her to get off the bench and lightly shoved her out of the kitchen "Go read it in your chamber!"

Meryl was protesting against the shoving, but at the same time she would be out of their eye sight and ear shot, so that is a good thing. As she was about to ascend the stairs, she called into the kitchen.

"Could you bring up a pot of tea?"

"Sure, hun." Replied Marie quickly.

"Thanks!"

Meryl walked up the stairs, feeling the strange and ancient quality of the paper. She stopped in front of her bedroom door in the hallway, staring at the envelope with its seal made of red wax and with an emblem stamped on it. Her heart started to hammer, she was nervous and also apprehensive about the contents.

Why was she afraid?

Was she afraid of a man being attracted to her? Or was she afraid of commitment or rejection? Or was it the fact that she was a 21st century woman living in the 18th century? Also there was this uncertainty of whether the 18th century would become her permanent home or if it was just a phase. But deep down, she prayed that this situation was only temporary. Her life is in the 21st century, not the 18th century.

She took a deep breath, to clear out the helpless emotions she felt and entered her room. She stoked up the fire and sat down on the upholstered seat, staring at the envelop. Her palms grew sweaty, she turned the envelope around and pealed it open. She pulled out a thicker paper and unfolded it finding a beautiful cursive hand writing. This was written with ink and a fucking quill! She covered her forehead with her palm and whimpered, the reality of the 18th century life smacking her in the face. Of course they didn't use the printing press to write letters, they used it for official documents and letters were still hand written.

But it was the most beautiful cursive writing she had ever seen. She took a deep breath and began to read the letter.

_Morning of December 25__th__ 1773_

_My dear Miss Briar:_

_First off, a very Merry Christmas to you. Forgive me for presuming to write to you without permission. I must apologize for my sudden departure. I did not wish to disturb you as you appeared unwell last night. I feel compelled to assure you that my sentiments were pure and without ill intent. I have to admit that I have accepted Master Davenport's invitation with strong hesitancy but I must now congratulate my impulsive nature for it has given me an opportunity to meet you. _

_I wish to express the object of this letter. I feel a strong and unshakable interest in you that is difficult to describe in words. I wish you could appreciate this feeling from my heart, and with your permission allow me to indulge in friendly visits to the Davenport manor. If you are pleased to accord me a response I shall feel very flattered. I have the address listed below of my home in Boston._

_It was a great pleasure to have made your acquaintance Miss Briar, and I hope there will be more to come._

_Yours with much esteem,_

_Alexander Leighton_

Meryl fell back into her seat, dropping the letter on the table then covering her face with her palms.

"Oh fuuuuuck." She groaned, rubbing her face. "I…I can't deal with this. I just can't!"

She got up and paced the room. Her mind was racing, she grabbed the letter, scanning it, scrutinizing it and thinking whether this letter was real or not. Was he truly interested in her? How can this be?! He is probably more messed up in his head than she is. She whimpered. She paced more determinedly around her room, mulling over the words.

A light knock at her door, shook her out of her contemplation.

"Come in."

"Here is your tea, Schatz – what is wrong?" Ingrid's voice fell from her cheerful chirp to sudden concern, she placed the tea set at the table then walked hurriedly to her side. "Has the gentlemen offended you?"

Meryl shook her head in rebuttal.

"No, he hasn't."

"Then what is the matter, Schätzchen?"

Meryl looked at Ingrid, her inner self in turmoil, the words couldn't come out of her mouth. Ingrid probably saw the storm in her eyes and caressed her gently on the shoulder with an understanding smile.

"I can't do this Ingrid…" Meryl said quietly, her eyes lowered.

"Why?"

Meryl snapped her attention at Ingrid which exposed the turbulence in her countenance and in her eyes. Meryl backed away, putting some distance between them.

"He doesn't know me."

"If you allow him, he will in time, Schatz."

Meryl shook her head with a hopeless expression in her face, turning her body away, the emotions surging from the pit of her stomach and tearing at her heart.

"The moment he sees who I really am, he will run away like all men."

"Oh nonsense, Schatz!" Ingrid asserted in earnest, grabbing Meryl by the arm and turning her around. "If he does, then he is not a man but a boy and he will be treated as so! But if you constantly keep yourself closed and live in fear of rejection how will you find love, Miss Briar?"

Meryl was breathing heavy from the emotions in her, Ingrid's point struck her and made her think.

"You are probably one of the smartest women I have met in my life, Miss Briar." Supplied Ingrid with a tender smile and cupped Meryl's cheek with care. "You will immediately know if his feelings are genuine or not, but first you must open yourself to him."

Meryl looked at Ingrid, the storm in her body grew weaker and clarity began to settle in her followed by calmness. Then her face contorted into a whimper.

"But I don't know how to write so sophisticated like him!"

"You don't have to, just be yourself."

"Ingrid, you don't understand! I don't know how to write like his style." Meryl grabbed the letter and pointed at his cursive writing.

"So?"

"Come on, Ingrid!" whimpered Meryl. "He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth! I had nothing of that!"

Ingrid really was unfazed by Meryl's worries.

"If he can't like you for yourself, Miss Briar, then he is not the one for you." She reiterated in a subdued temper then her face changed to an amused one. "But he has already taken interest in you to begin with."

"How do you know?" Meryl responded with her arms crossed over her chest, denying those allegations.

Ingrid chuckled with confidence.

"If a man is serious he will not wait to make his intentions known."

Meryl twitched her mouth, reluctant about this matter.

"Ingriiiiid!" called the urgent voice of Marie, her thundering footsteps approaching Meryl's room.

"What is the matter, Marie?" hollered Ingrid back and she tottered to the door.

Marie barged in.

"We have again a stupid leak from the Master's bedroom!"

"What?! Again?! Where?" repeated Ingrid with exasperation.

"Hanna discovered it after cleaning the master's bedroom."

Ingrid groaned.

"Make haste get a few buckets and call for Connor!" She ordered in a stern tone and stormed out of the room with Marie.

Meryl breathed a sigh of relief. At least for now the topic has been dropped. She went over to the letter, folded it, slipped it back into the envelope and placed it inside the drawer of the nightstand next to her bed. She decided to see what was going on. Meryl followed the sound of Ingrid's exasperated voice, it was at the opposite end of the hallway in the last room. The door stood ajar with some buckets and cloths lined up. Meryl stood at the doorway looking in and finding Marie and Ingrid gathered at the corner of the room with a bucket between them.

"We need Norris to come and patch this up, Ingrid."

"Um Gottes Willen, Marie! It is _Christmas_! I do not want to bother him for this!"

"I can go check the roof if you want?" intervened Meryl still at the doorway which made all women turn in her direction.

"No need, Miss Briar, Hanna has gotten Connor and they are outside."

"Okay."

Meryl walked away, went quickly to her room, grabbed her furred poncho and went downstairs. She put it on and went out of the main entrance. She spotted a pair of footsteps heading around the back of the manor. Achilles room was located upstairs towards the right of the manor, which meant Meryl had to walk around. She followed the imprints until she found Hanna in a shawl looking up to the roof with concern and mixed with an expression of tenderness.

"Oh ,hello, Miss Briar." She stammered shyly, lowering her eyes quickly at the sight of Meryl in fear that somebody could read her.

"Connor went up?"

Hanna nodded.

"The snow is tricky right now, it is melting from the heat of the sun."

As she said that some snow rolled off the roof and both ladies moved back.

"Do you know where I can find a shovel and some rope?" Meryl asked as she scanned the wall, windows and ledges.

"I know where they are, I can get them." Hanna said and quickly left.

Meryl stood there for a moment. There were no ledges or anything for her to have a proper grip on. How did that monkey, aka Connor, climb up the manor? Hanna returned with the shovel and rope. Meryl took it from her and walked back towards the back entrance.

"What are you doing with the shovel and rope?" asked Hanna who walked behind her.

"I'm going to help out."

"It's too dangerous."

Meryl ignored Hanna and walked upstairs to her room, opened the window and placed the shovel and rope on the side. Since the roof over the porch stuck out from under Meryl window, it was flat enough for her to walk on it. She stepped out of her window and lowered herself so that her feet touched the roof of the porch. The bricks were not even, so it made it easier for her to climb up.

"Can you give me the shovel and rope?" Hanna passed it to her

With the rope Meryl fastened the shovel behind her back and then climbed up to the bricks that stuck out. With a grunt she hoisted herself up the roof, but came in contact with slushy snow. She moved some of the snow away with her hands to make a path for her to hoist her body over the ledge of the roof. Finally, she stood on the roof and trod carefully upwards until she came to the arch of the roof and saw Connor tinkering at the far bottom corner of the roof. He immediately snapped his attention at her, looking stern and mildly annoyed.

"What are you doing up here? It is dangerous."

Meryl ignored him, untied the shovel from her back and cleared a path in his direction. Maybe it was a stupid decision to come up here with the snow being slushy, but a part of her just wanted to spite Connor.

"I thought you might need some help." Meryl said as she had finished shoveling the path in his direction.

She shoveled away the slushy snow around the area that Connor had been tinkering with. They found a few wooden shingles that had been either ripped off or moved by the wind. Connor knelt down to inspect the damage.

"I will get some shingles. There should be some in the shed." He declared and stood up.

"You don't have to go down and get some. I have a rope and Hanna could get the shingles put into a bucket, tie it to the rope and we can pull it up."

Connor looked at her, his usual intense chestnut eyes boring through her in annoyance. He didn't reject the idea. Meryl went back to the other roof towards the front of the house.

"Hanna! Are you still in my room?" called Meryl from the edge of the roof

"Yes! Are you all right?"

"I am fine, thanks. Can you get a bunch of shingles from the shed, a hammer, nails and a bucket and bring it to the other side of the roof where Connor is?" she called down from the roof.

"It shall be done. Stay safe, Miss Briar."

Meryl slowly trod to Connor, who was standing and looking in her direction in his usual aloof demeanor. Admittedly, he was impressive to look at. The way he stood there, legs parted, body erect and on guard, a trained warrior and maybe trained killer. He had such a strong presence, not that of charisma but power that oozed from his muscular limbs. Meryl has never encountered a man who left such a strong impression on her, both visually and physically.

"You weaseled yourself out nicely from the kitchen, well done." Stated Meryl coolly to distract herself from how he affected her, "Ingrid and Marie harassed me quite a bit about the letter _thanks to you_."

Connor did not respond but returned his attention to the damaged roof. Meryl didn't care if he responded or not, so she knelt down across of him to look at the damage.

"Connor, Miss Briar!" called Hanna from down below.

Meryl slowly got up and Connor stood up quickly ready to react if something goes wrong. She waved at Hanna down below.

"I'll toss the rope down. You tie the bucket at the end and place the tools and materials inside." Shouted Meryl down to Hanna, who nodded eagerly.

Meryl tossed the end of the rope to the bottom. As she held on the rope, she felt Connor looming behind her and it made her uncomfortable, before she could make a comment on that, she felt a tug of the rope followed by Hanna's voice.

"It's ready, Miss Briar."

"Okay, thanks Hanna."

Meryl began to hoist up the bucket carefully, hearing it clang and scrap against the brick walls of the manor. She backed away from the edge of the roof and Connor grabbed the bucket and brought it closer to damaged area of the roof. Without a words he already expertly plunged himself into unshingling the damaged section of the roof.

"Can I help?" Meryl asked as she knelt again across of him.

He looked up with the same intense gaze in his eyes, he looked unwilling about her help but decided to nod.

"Can you remove these shingles right here."

"How do I do that? Tearing them off with the hammer or breaking them?"

"Breaking them."

Meryl did as she was told and smashed the damaged shingles to bits while he cleared them out. Then he placed the new shingles in while hammering several nails into each one of them. Meryl looked at her surroundings, taking note of the ocean behind Connor then letting her eyes settle by the trees on her right. Her mind wandered. She rested her elbow on her knee while her chin rested on her palm.

Again, home called her. Kazuma, Leesha, Stephanie, Gabriella, Darren, Brian, Thompson and Master Kang; the people in her life. Her 21st century life almost seemed forgotten and foreign to her now. What were they doing, were they looking for her? Has it been really been more than a week since she had arrived in the 18th century?

"Was the letter troubling to you?" Connor's calm voice rang through her reverie and she jerked her head in his direction, surprised that he even spoke to her.

"Huh? … Oh! No-no, it wasn't." Meryl stammered nervously and then shook her head with a smile. "I am thinking about home, that's all."

"I see."

He kept his interaction so minimal that he didn't even look at her. He continued to hammer the nails into the shingles. He had still one more shingle to hammer in. Then Meryl chuckled.

"I find it interesting that you thought my distracted behavior was caused by Leighton's letter." Meryl noted with her eyebrow raised and her curiosity piqued. "Are you curious about what he wrote?"

"Not really." He promptly responded, again without looking at her.

Meryl looked at him, mildly annoyed by his rebuttal. She rolled her neck to release some tension from her muscles and bones and sighed how it popped. Connor was completely ignoring her. She chewed on her lips uncertainly, looking at Connor's concentrated face.

"Basically, he is interested in me and wants to remain in contact." She stated straightforwardly, gauging Connor's reaction.

He finished hammering the last nail into the shingle and placed everything back into the bucket.

"It was evident in the way that he spoke to you last night." Answered Connor directly still not looking at her.

"I guess, it was, huh." She supplied absentmindedly, but then she groaned "But it won't work out."

"You judge too quickly."

"Of course I do and there is a reason for it." She rebuked in defense, then scanned him tentatively "And if I didn't know any better, you surely understand what I mean."

Connor snapped his attention at her, stopping in his movements, his gaze intensified to intimidate her as if he was trying to hide that her words had affected him. The fact that he did react by looking at her proved that her words did strike him. Meryl offered a satisfied smile in his direction.

"Ah, so we do have something in common: trust issues."

Connor still kept his intense gaze and remained silent. Either he was trying to find something to say or he was studying her. Meryl guessed the latter. She was very cryptic about herself and so was he. Her satisfied smile now looked more like a façade with her eyes sharpened by insight. They exchanged a tense stare.

Since Meryl could not provoke a response from Connor she sighed with defeat. She rolled up the rope, stood up and headed for the arch of the roof. Connor quickly and silently followed suit carrying the bucket and shovel along, when she peeked behind her shoulder finding him so close behind her, it startled her a little. It was astounding to see this bulky young man moving around so effortlessly and stealthy. She cleared her throat after they made their way down the other part of the roof.

"Don't get me wrong, I am flattered that Mr. Leighton has taken an interest in me, but…" her voice faltered and paused a little, insecurities gnawing at her "He has no idea what he has gotten himself into, he won't find the so-called expected stability and comfort from me..."

They came to the ledge of the roof. He climbed down first then she passed him the bucket that was tied to the rope. She also passed him the shovel. Meryl climbed down the wall until they both stood on the roof over the porch. They both climbed through the window and into her room with the shovel, bucket and rope. Connor closed the window behind him. Meryl immediately lunged for the spot in front of the fire place, throwing some logs in and stoking the fire some more. She knelt, rubbed her hands then held them close to the fire feeling the growing heat.

"Dear God… I actually feel sorry for him. " sighed Meryl with sympathy, resting her chin on her palm and gazing into the flames. "This is a little bit of a stretch for me to say this so incredibly early, but I am not the traditional woman meant for settling down, having children and being a housewife."

The fire crackled gently in the silence. Connor had closed the window and leaned against the window sill, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I believe…" began Connor after a weighted pause, momentarily looking down on the oaken floorboard. "You are worrying about this too much. Wait and see how your relationship progresses. If he can't accept you and your flaws, he will move on."

Meryl looked at him with surprise, it did stun her that this quiet man of few words (at least around her) said quite deep things. Maybe she judged him too quickly.

"I guess, you are right…" Meryl stared back in the flames, deep in thought now.

If only she could express these doubts she had. Was her stay in the 18th century only temporary or permanent? Was it worth having attachment to this place and to its people? Is even the idea of having a relationship with a man conceivable in this place? Is it worth the risk? It was a dangerous slippery slope. If she allowed herself into this, it would be difficult to get out of it.

"Are you seeking a relationship?"

His blunt question made Meryl's heart skip a beat and her stomach squirm. She didn't want to look at him in fear that his penetrative gaze would expose some emotions in her eyes. Meryl did not like being cornered and she will not let herself be cornered.

"You seem awfully curious about my life all of a sudden - why?" she eyed him with suspicion and stood up but Connor did not waver in his behavior, he still remained aloof and serious.

"I am not." He responded promptly, pushing himself on his feet again and keeping his cryptic grave eyes on her. "I find it interesting that you are at war with yourself about Mr. Leighton."

"Interesting? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she countered now more defensively. "Are you expecting – wait – were you expecting me to welcome him with open arms, just like that?"

Meryl was now on the defensive, were they plotting against her with Mr. Leighton? He moved closer to reassert his point, which made Meryl tense. Then it struck her.

"You eavesdropped on our conversation, didn't you?" she exclaimed and for a split second she saw a reaction on Connor's body language confirming her suspicion. "_Oh Greaaaaaat! I did not see that coming._"

She rolled her eyes and groaned. Of course! What did she expect? Privacy? Nope, never.

"I guess I should have expected that since you have been spying on me the entire time while Achilles was away." She saw a brief inflection to her words on Connor's face. "Oh don't play dumb with me Connor, I am not stupid or blind!"

Connor moved closer to her until they were face to face and an arm length apart. He looked down at her, intimidation mode set on high, but Meryl did not waver or backed down. She fearlessly glared back at those eyes with more defiance.

"You should have known that Connor." She hissed at him, her eyes sharpened with a keen awareness. "I guess, Achilles should have trained you better."

Connor's hand reflexively rested on his hatchet, his body tense and eyes now hostile.

"Oh please! Don't bother because I _will stun you like last time_."

When she waved her left hand at him, he instantly enclosed his callous broad right hand on hers in a tight vise grip, which she promptly responded using her right fist to try to punch him but he caught it with his left hand. They were at a stalemate, hands and arms crossed and pressing against each other.

"Do you seriously think I would not suspect you and Achilles of suspicious activities? You of all people I have met scream of mercenary work."

His grip instantly tightened on her hands, she felt her knuckles pop by the squeeze. She merely glared at him, showing how unfazed she was to his "little squeeze".

"Go ahead and break them." She snarled at him "I will use my legs to _beat the shit out of you_."

Connor brought her closer so that their faces were just inches apart.

"_Do not test me._" He growled back with such an icy glower in his eyes that it sent terrifying shivers down her spine but also provoked a strange undercurrent feeling that almost left her weak-kneed.

In her distraction Connor had managed to shove her away then press her against the wall with a knife at her throat. The moment the cool blade touched her pulsating throat, she came back to her senses. His right hand pinned her left shoulder against the wall, his body acted as a barrier in front of her while his left hand held the blade against her throat. He had felt Meryl's high pulses against the blade while her wide grey eyes showed a mix of defiance, anger and fear. The icy detached look in his eyes still remained, but his eyes fell on the blade and just briefly the corner of his lip tugged with satisfaction then it vanished. He withdrew the blade quickly and retreated to get the shovel, rope, and bucket. When he got to the doorway with the tools he stopped and looked at her.

"We are even." He declared then left the room and closed the door behind him.

Meryl slid down the wall, touching her throat; she wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, trying to calm herself down. It was not the act of having a blade against her throat that reduced her to this heap, but it was that indescribable and overpowering feeling she had felt earlier on in his most aggressive mode. Her body was overheating, her knees were weak, her heart rate was through the roof, and she was sweating. Thinking of Connor shoving and pinning her against the wall with a blade against the throat, their bodies and faces oh so intoxicatingly close…

Then and there it struck her.

She buried her face in her hands. Did she…Did she actually _enjoy_ this?!


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Hey guys, finally another update. Woo hoo. XD I am gonna keep my blah-blah short, I am still stuck with summer classes but freedom is near .**

**Either way thank you all for the support and for the lovely reviews which really made my day! It excites me to see how you all are reacting to the story! Keep 'em coming! Give me the power to power-write through this fanfic that I am really _really _obsessed with...**

**Take care, have a lovely weekend and a great start to the summer! XD**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

**~ A crack in the indestructible dam ~**

Of course no encounters happened with Connor after what had happened in her room. He was out of the house for two days. According to Marie and Ingrid Connor had decided to visit some of the locals in the Homestead area and also visit his tribe. Anyway, Meryl did not care, she welcomed his absence to process, question and resolve her abnormally vivid and physical reaction to Connor's threatening move on her. This guy could have killed her and yet her fucking body decided to focus more on the purely carnal sensations he provoked within her.

_Wait a moment, carnal? What is that supposed to mean?!_

Meryl briskly sat up from her bed, rubbing her eyes with a groan. Her room still bathed in the dimness of the early morning. With another groan she let her body fall back on the bed. It was the 2nd day since Connor left. He should be arriving home sometime soon which send Meryl's heart aflutter. She drew the covers over her head, feeling her cheeks warm up.

What the hell was wrong with her?

What were these weird sensations?

Was she afraid of him?

_No, that was definitely not it._

She mulled over her physical reaction to him. The memory was so fresh and so vivid that her body immediately revived the reaction at their confrontation. Her heart beat instantly increased, her breath grew heavier, her body heated up coupled with a heightened sensitivity. Connor's face, hands, body appearing in fragments, blinding her to the reality. The accidental grazing of her fingers against her skin elicited a moan which sent a powerful shockwave of hungry desire down to her core.

She snapped her eyes open, wide with realization.

Meryl immediately sat up, belting a horrified gasp which she tried to muffle by covering her mouth with her hands. She grabbed her pillow, hugged it comfortingly looking like she had seen something so traumatizing and so private. She was shocked speechless. It took her God knows how long to find the words to express what had just happened.

"I…want to... Ffff-fuck…Connor?" her voice faltered, she couldn't bring herself to utter these words.

She buried her face into the pillow, smothering the growing heat in her embarrassed and aroused cheeks. Her heart still vicious hammered against her ribs and her core still pulsed and swelled with the intoxicating want for sex, some dirty, wild sex.

"Girl, you act like a guy hasn't touched or fucked you ever… Oh wait, it has been in fact years." She sighed and whimpered, realizing that it had been maybe years (give or take 2 years) since she had sex.

Yes, she did indulge in some night stands, so? She had needs. She wasn't successful at finding a man who would commit to her and her background either. But, she never felt something this incredibly intense. It was such a strong carnal need that it bordered on the animalistic side. Just the idea of her and Connor having some wild sex made her blush so deeply that her face could have burnt through her pillow. She couldn't help but picture their possible hanky-panky, which kind of made her chuckle and blush more. If they did have sex it would look like two wolves engaging in a deadly and bloody mating ritual. It would be a blood bath. Or like Mr. and Mrs. Smith, just bloodier coupled with violent sex.

Meryl jumped out of the bed, her feet making contact with the icy cold oak floor board which took down her sex drive by a few notches. One day she will rub it off, but not today! If she caved in now, first it would be awkward to see Connor again having done that and secondly it would fuel her desires for Connor even more. Ugh, this sounds just disgusting!

Even admitting to herself that she had some desire for Connor was a little…unnerving, no, scratch that _disturbing_. He is a minor! A mother fucking minor! But he was quite a mature minor, argh, she sounded like creepy pedophile.

She got up, dressed up in her usual clothes with the bindings around her arms and legs. The room felt a bit chilly so she put on her warm poncho and found an extra leather string on her vanity dresser which she used to tie up her blond hair into a high pony tail. She looked into mirror, taking note with a sigh at her true blond color showing at her roots. She had her hair dyed several shades lighter to her original dirty blond hair, she didn't like how her darker blond hair looked against her face. Meryl felt the darkness of her blond hair made her more masculine, more off-putting and yes, less special. It was deliberate choice of hers right after she left the Marine to dye her hair very light blond, because it signaled a departure from her past. With another sigh she walked away from her dresser and left her room.

Meryl arrived in the kitchen finding Marie up and about her usual chores.

"Already up? Did something happened, hun?" greeted Marie with a grin and a wink.

Meryl rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"I wish. Is there some tea? I could go for some tea _right fucking_ _now_." Meryl plopped down on the bench at the table, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

The gentle clatter of cups and dishes filled the silence. Marie pushed a cup of tea in Meryl's direction and sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"Rough night, hun?"

Meryl eyed her, taking note with disinterest the mischievous twinkle in Marie's eyes. But no sooner Meryl caved into Marie's playful game, she rested her elbows on the table crossing her hands and placing her chin on them, eyeing Marie with mischief.

"You wouldn't find me awake and talking to you at the crack of dawn if my night was as "rough" as you are implying." Replied Meryl, infected by Marie's game. "You forgot one thing though."

"That is?"

"A man, Marie. By myself is one thing but with a man that is more preferable."

Marie replied with a coquettish chuckle. She lowered her eyes to her tea in front of her.

"And no, Connor doesn't count." Interjected Meryl quickly which then ignited immediate curiosity in Marie's features.

"Connor?" Marie repeated with a raised eye brow. "Hun, he didn't even cross ma mind, unless…"

-No Marie, he is a _kid_!" interrupted Meryl swiftly, to shut down not only both her discomfort and her raised heart beats but also to stop Marie from suspecting anything.

_Suspecting?_

_No-no-no! There was absolutely nothing between them to begin with! Why was her mind and even body thinking this?!_

"But he is a man too, hun." Marie rested her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her palm to analyze and stare intently into Meryl's face. "A rather good lookin' fellow, if I say so myself."

Meryl chortled loudly, rejecting her observation with the shake of her head. But then it struck Meryl when she realized the intentions of Marie and how she manipulated the conversation.

"Ohhhh, Marie, you are good, I give you that." Supplied Meryl with a confident smile, her eyes becoming unreadable by Marie's keen ones. "It will take you more than your conversational skills to figure me out."

"What are you saying, hun?" Marie feigned the dramatic wide-eyed innocent and not guilty look in her demeanor which Meryl countered with an unimpressed expression.

"The one thing I can tell you about myself is that I am not a virgin."

Marie responded with a knowing coquettish smile, which Meryl understood as something that confirmed her thoughts about her.

"Wow, your expectations of me are pretty low." Noted Meryl nonchalantly.

Marie grinned and chuckled. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hun, I can tell very easily that you are a person with a lot of _experience_."

"Why thank you, I would like to think the more experience, the better it is, right?"

Marie and Meryl exchanged a mutual knowing look in their eyes and they chuckled. The playful air in their conversation slowly dissipated after they paused to sip on their teas. Meryl cleared her throat and lowered herself across the table, to ask Marie a question.

"Speaking of experience," Meryl glanced around her with alarm, checking if the coast was clear. "I am having difficulty imagining this but has Connor ever brought back a girl or has he been with a woman before?"

Marie muffled her laughter, but out of respect she didn't make fun of Meryl's question.

"Hun, like I mentioned recently, he plays everything close to his vest." She replied calmly, although there was some hesitancy in her eyes, possibly pointing out to Connor's true profession. "After working for Master Davenport for years and watching Connor grow into the man he is today, he still remains a mystery to me… but I know you have shaken his world."

Meryl chuckled with triumph towards Marie's playful smile.

"Of course I did, nothing is more satisfying when a woman overpowers a man when they least expect it."

"Amen to that, hun." Marie took a sip from her tea, relishing the common sentiment they shared between each other. "But you have to admit, hun, Connor is quite special."

"Well, yeah, but so are the other men I have met in my life."

Marie raised an eyebrow in Meryl's direction, indicating that she wanted a serious answer which Meryl obliged grudgingly with a sigh.

"Okay, Marie, I get it. Yes, he is _special_." She admitted in dead-pan tone.

"What about his appearance, hun?"

"Uhm…where are these questions leading to Marie?"

"Just curiosity, hun. I am curious how different women react to Connor…" Marie paused a little bit, hesitant on pursuing the topic of the conversation. "You as a woman of lighter complexion from New York, it is a rarity to see a judgment-free interaction between you and Connor who is an Indian."

Meryl grew quiet and focused.

"The person's character matters to me more than their skin color." Meryl responded promptly without leaving any shred of doubt or waver in her answer.

Marie suddenly regarded Meryl in a different light, she was both surprised but also in disbelief of these words. It was not that the answer came from Meryl as a person but of a light skinned person, telling her that skin color was insignificant. Marie was quiet and stared at Meryl. Meryl stretched her back and yawned. She kept a grin on her face.

"If some of the staunch white people knew about the different races of men that I have slept with, they would banish me for life."

Marie just seemed more in awe about Meryl and she felt a strong sense of respect growing between them.

"Love is blind, isn't it?" Meryl's voice became softer, thoughts of home swirling in her mind.

Marie gazed at Meryl, watching how her words affected both of them.

"Have you someone?" inquired Marie equally softly.

Meryl looked her in the eyes with an affected smile on her face.

"Maybe I did, maybe I do." Meryl chuckled with melancholy, lowering her eyes to her tea cup in front of her. "But right now, I need to get my life straightened out and find my priorities in life."

As these words resonated within her, memories of home swirled in front of her eyes once more, filling her with conflicting emotions. She snapped her eyes back to Marie's to show her conviction about her words. Marie's blank expression melted away and was replaced with genuine warmth. It seemed like their relationship had reached a new level of respect and understanding. They were kindred spirits.

"But you gotta admit that Connor looks a lot older than he is." Whined Meryl suddenly to break the tragic atmosphere which caused Marie to laugh whole heartedly.

"Oh honey, if you know him as well as I do, he is very youthful impulsive and rash as every 17 year old."

"But Marie, his body is that of a man in his prime! None of the 17 year olds have those gigantic arms and legs and chest!"

"Honey, I don't know what you're expectin' but this is the Frontier," declared Marie, channeling her own experience of the frontier life. "It is a hard life and this experience changes a person. Connor is the outcome of generations who survived off the land long before the settlers arrived. Additionally, I heard he comes from a healthy and _headstrong_ stock." She added the last part with a chuckle.

Meryl smiled, looking at her tea cup. She finished its luke warm content with a swig and poured herself some more.

"So, is Connor the real thing, a full Indian?"

Marie raised a confused eyebrow in her direction, showing her surprise at the sudden weird question.

"Well, uhm, I met another Native American, I mean, Indian, who looked _quite_ different from Connor, so I wondered if Connor was mixed."

Marie for a moment froze looking at Meryl with a more guarded expression which was very unfamiliar to Marie's character. Meryl sensed the tension she inadvertently created which deepened her suspicion some more. Why was everybody so secretive and guarded about Achilles and Connor? Either these men were doing some criminal activities or they were just very reserved people.

"I am sorry, that was over the line, I think I've prodded too much." Meryl quickly added with a dismissive smile. "No need to tell me. I will ask him myself once _they _trust me."

"Trust you, honey?" there seemed to be genuine confusion in Marie's face.

"Oh come on, Marie," Meryl scoffed. "You are one of the most observant person I have met, this would not slip your sight. For one they have taken my precious combat knife hostage, Achilles is _too friendly_ towards me while Connor is very watchful of my words and movements like he is expecting me to go on a murder rampage sometime soon."

"Well, hun, you are a stranger and a fairly strong one."

"No shit." Meryl crossed her arms with disapproval and Marie quickly leaned in with a reassuring smile.

"It's the frontier, hun. It's a dangerous, cruel and a lawless place to be." She explained matter-factly. "It is common sense to be more guarded in this unpredictable environment. Being too trusting brings trouble. We will distrust strangers out of precaution, once we become familiar with the strangers (if they allow themselves) then trust can be built."

"Basically be wary of strangers then?"

"Exactly."

Meryl sighed. Absentmindedly she combed her fingers through her hair, realizing that the leather string had to be tightened and adjusted again. She undid her hair and tied it up again.

"Meryl."

Meryl froze as she heard for the first time Marie using her name. She looked at Marie's face that was now more earnest.

"Where are you from?"

"Pfff, Marie, from New York of course." Meryl answered swiftly, to hide the startle she received from the direct question. "Why?"

Marie was on to something. She was a shrewd and observant lady, which often contradicted her outgoing, and loud mouth traits. It wouldn't surprise Meryl if Achilles gathered intel about herself through Marie.

"I can't put my finger on it, but you are definitely not from here."

"What makes you say that, Marie?"

"The way you speak, and your manners – is so very different from what I have seen from an English speaking white person."

Oh-oh. They were entering dangerous waters now. Meryl had to get out of this. She crossed her arms, and kept unwavering eye contact with Marie.

"Alexander Leighton said the exact same thing that you said." Meryl offered a confident smile. "I guess I was raised by an uncultured swine."

Marie chortled then covered her mouth with disbelief.

"Lord have mercy! Master Leighton said that to you?" she stated with aghast. "That is very unbecoming of a gentleman."

"Maybe but I think he was testing the waters since I had been giving him much sass."

"Hah! We are truly kindred spirits!" Marie exclaimed with a cheer. "If they persist throughout your sass, it is a testament of their affection."

"Affection?! Marie, it is still too early!" Meryl squeaked in horror. "He just wrote me _one letter_."

"And he conversed with you, expressed his interest in you and also in the letter."

"_Affection_ is still a little far-fetched, Marie."

"Don't you believe in love at first sight?"

"Yes and no."

"Ohh? Miss Briar you are awake?" Ingrid emerged from the door behind them with a cheerful smile. "I was wondering what that chatter was."

Phew, crisis averted.

"Marie, have the master's breakfast ready by 7 o'clock."

"All righty." Marie got up from the bench in a sprightly manner and got back to prepping at the kitchen counter.

"Schatz?"

"Yes, Ingrid?"

"Can you lend me a hand with a few chores?"

"Of course, anything for you, _mama_."

Ingrid gave a little smack at Meryl's shoulder which she responded with a grin.

* * *

The said chores were rather strenuous and also very dull. Meryl thanked the Gods that she was not born in this era, or even born as a domestic servant because holy fuck. The gigantic list of the chores was so time consuming and mind boggling numbing her brain. She probably lost brain cells just scrubbing the floor. One was polishing and waxing the railing of the stairs, the balustrades and parts of the floors near the entrance and dinning area. There was also the polishing of the silverware and the perfectionist way of washing, rubbing and drying of the glasswares. Then there was dusting, mopping, tidying up ALL ROOMS. At least Hanna was there the entire time otherwise Meryl would have gone crazy and destroyed all glassware in a fit of insanity.

"Where the fuck is Connor, that asshole should be helping out!" growled Meryl as she was scrubbing the floor on all fours, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her forearm.

Hanna was just a few feet behind her, mopping and drying up after her. She chuckled. Meryl scrubbed down the last stretch with such a fervor so she could get that fucking shit done and out of the way.

"Why do I have to endure this fucking Mr. Miyagi bullshit – oh yes! Now I know why, they are trying to tire me out so that they can _murder me easily._" Meryl mumbled in anger, scrubbing that motherfucking floor boards so vigorously like it was her exes.

When she reached the end of the hallway of the 2nd floor which signified the end of the chores for today, she got up on her feet, the bristle brush in her hand raised in the air in triumph and victory. In a loud triumphant grunt.

"DONE! Fuck yeah!" but then she covered her mouth in alarm, remembering Achilles scolding her for her bad tongue.

Hanna burst into giggles. Meryl decided to be ridiculous.

"Arrrrrr! Quit your sniggering you lily livered maggot, the decks won't swab themselves." Meryl mimicked the gimmicky pirate with a wooden leg, limping over to Hanna with a grimace and one wide eye and brandishing her finger hook. "Young missy, you better keep swabbing otherwise you'll walk the plank, arrrrrrr."

Hanna broke out in belly full of laughter which reverberated throughout the manor. Meryl had her back facing the stairs, keeping up her gimmicky pirate shtick when she noticed Hanna trying to compose herself and muffling her laughter.

"Welcome back Connor." Hanna greeted with a shy smile.

Immediately Meryl's body went rigid. She lowered her fake hook, cleared her throat and clenched her jaw. She mechanically turned around finding Connor just a mere few feet behind her, arms crossed, feet parted, chin raised and with his usual frown. Meryl's heart skipped a beat, the weirdness of the morning creeping back into her system. She dispelled it quickly by letting her inner Hulk return. She was pissed so she decided to be defiant. She crossed her arms in his direction, assuming his same posture, mimicking his behavior.

"Cute outfit, are you going to a costume party?" she stated very dead pan which made Hanna chortled, covering he mouth quickly and lowering her eyes.

Connor was dressed surprisingly spiffy and very, uhm, Western or more English. He wore a blue coat which reached his knees with pronounced white lapels lined with brass buttons. He wore a white piece of material around his neck, almost like a cravat with a dark grey neutral shirt. A leather strap draped down and across from his shoulder to his side which touched his pistol on his left. His trusted hatchet hung at his hips on his right, he wore dark fingerless gloves (what is his obsession with these gloves, Jesus!) and he wore a three cornered hat which matched in color and material to his coat. He wore a dark neutral trousers that were once again, uhm tight-fitting around his thighs and he paired it with high leather boots. That was a damn fine outfit…which made him also look so damn fuu - fine.

"I was in New York."

"That's great - now can I have my knife back?" she quipped back to his statement with nonchalance, hiding her apprehensive heart beats and sinking stomach.

"Achilles wants to talk to you."

"In his study?"

"Yes."

"Aye-aye Captain!" she saluted him Marine-style in posture and form "Let me freshen up a bit and I will join you in a moment."

She walked right passed him and went to her room. She pressed her back against the door, feeling her legs quiver. Finally…it was time.

The moment of judgment day was upon her.

Since they were a smart bunch, Achilles probably had sent Connor to verify her story and she was sure he came empty handed. Meryl's only knowledge about the Briar ancestry was that they were Scottish, but where they settled, and who they married was completely unknown to her. Her eyes looked at her window, she could escape, but being pursued by Connor (while a tempting idea leading to some awesome sex) it was a bad idea. But she had to be ready for a possible fight or flight situation. Achilles and Connor were not ordinary people, these guys possibly have an agenda, and she wasn't sure what. She went over to the ceramic bowl and poured some water from the ceramic jug. With a cloth she dipped into the water and wiped her face, arm pits and other sweaty parts of her body. How she wished to shower again or simply bathe! When Spring comes around she swears on her head that she will scrub her body raw!

After she finished wiping herself down and changing out her shirt, she was ready to take on whatever Achilles and Connor would throw at her. She left the room, each step feeling heavier with the apprehension spreading further and further into her system. She had to be ready for anything and everything.

Expect the unexpected.

She went down the stairs and made a sharp right, walking right into Achilles' study. There she found Connor dressed back in his usual gear gathered at Achilles' desk. Achilles slowly got up from his chair to point out with his cane to the seats near the fire.

"Have a seat, Miss Briar."

"Does _he _have to be here too?" remarked Meryl with a jerk of her head towards Connor, who look mildly annoyed by her statement.

"Yes, my dear. It concerns him as well."

"Oh the joy." She walked over to the seats near the crackling fire and decided on the upholstered chair that was leaning against the wall, away from the rest.

"Miss Briar, I insist you sit on one of these seats."

"Out of safety reasons I rather sit here, thank you." She folded her legs and also folded her arms, showing her tenacity and defiance.

Achilles sighed and consented, he limped over to a seat that was close to her which was separated by a small upholstered sofa. Her chair was almost behind that little sofa which acted like a buffer zone. Of course Connor moved over to her side, blocking one of her possible escape routes. Either way she preferred that then having her back unguarded.

"Connor, can you fetch some tea?"

Connor nodded silently and left the room.

"He was in New York?" Meryl did not waste one second with the absence of Connor.

"Yes, he was."

"Why?"

"I had him do a few errands for me."

"Meaning you wanted to verify my backstory." She stated bluntly, leaving no room for bullshit.

Achilles grew quiet and watched her. Before it could go out of hand Connor came back with the tray and placed it on a table between the gathered seats that were close to the fireplace. Connor actually went ahead and poured tea in all three tea cups. This brute of a man handling the beautiful china tea pot and tea cups so gently was such a weird and surprising spectacle to behold that Meryl could not keep herself from staring at him. So, he was capable of gentleness, fascinating. When he finished pouring the last cup Meryl got up, grabbed her own tea cup and returned back to her safe spot. Connor had taken a quick sip and placed his cup back on the saucer to reassume his standing pose.

"So, can I have my knife back, _please_?" Meryl asked bluntly adding the "please" for Achilles sake.

"In time, Miss Briar." Achilles replied calmly "First off let us talk."

Meryl's heart squeezed with apprehension.

"Okay."

Achilles held the cane sideways, studying it momentarily, probably also thinking about how to approach the conversation with Meryl.

"In all my years of traveling, never have I come across a weapon such as this." Achilles pulled out her sheathed knife and unsheathed it in front of her, his eyes bored into hers "Where have you procured this from?"

"A soldier friend of mine gave this to me as a present."

"Who is the maker?"

"A factory - I mean a manufacturer of military weapons, I guess?"

"And that blade and the hilt – of what material do they consist of?"

This was a deadly question which demanded a deadly answer. Meryl's heart was ready to burst from her rib cage. She had to stall the conversation or turn it away from this. Revealing to them that she was from the future was not safe yet. They would have to reach a certain level of trust and respect for each other before that could even cross her mind, but right now they probably were suspecting her as their enemy.

"Why do you need to know? How would this help you?" asked Meryl, displaying her suspicion openly to them.

"Harmless curiosity, my dear."

_Harmless curiosity, my ass!_

"This was _a gift_, Achilles, how would I know what material this was made off?"

Achilles observed her response and scrutinized her carefully. He stood up holding this knife in the palm of his hands.

"My contacts have never seen this weapon before, Miss Briar." He emphasized his words, keeping his firm eye contact with her. "Miss Briar, these are not simple contacts, they have connections throughout all continents even to the depths of the Orient."

"Okay, taking my weapon to have it checked by some "contacts" is a blatant violation to my trust!" she snapped back now, losing her cool in earnest. "Do you do this to every single person that enters your circle?"

Then something struck her.

"Are you working for some organization?"

The tension immediately dropped in the room, turning the atmosphere almost uncomfortable to breath and move. Then Achilles chuckled.

"That is a fascinating assumption, my dear, I can reassure that it is not the case."

Meryl was not convinced by Achilles' answer, especially from the way the atmosphere changed when she brought it up. Connor still looked like a bundle of tension, ready to explode.

"Achilles, it is just a weapon, _my combat knife_." Meryl reiterated, visibly showing her growing annoyance with the conversation. "I frankly can't see how my weapon is such a problem to you."

"It is not a problem, Miss Briar, it is rather the foreign element of it that is very disconcerting to us."

She intentionally paused to allow herself to plan an escape route while also putting up the guise that she was contemplating his answer. She raised her arms in defeat.

"What do you want me to say?" she protested in annoyance, really fed up of this, "Do you want me to say that it is maybe more advanced than any of the weapons that you have ever held in your hand? Then yes, it is. Now can I have my knife back?"

She outstretched her hand, expecting her knife back. Achilles looked over at Connor, they exchanged brief eye contact then looked back at her.

"And no, I don't know the secrets of how to replicate this weapon, after all it was a gift." She supplied curtly, crossing her arms and leaning back into the wall and staring into the crackling flames of the fire place.

A tense and ambiguous moment of silence settled in the room. She could tell that the level of trust was not fully established between both parties. Right now she was more suspicious than ever about their too keen interest in her knife. The average person might gawk at it and then get over it. Somehow they were making associations with her and her knife with something. Were they suspecting her of ties to some type of criminal organization, maybe their enemies? Their behaviors seem to indicate that. In addition, when Connor had chased her to this manor, he was very, very protective of the manor. Of course, there was nothing wrong with being protective of one's property but throwing a hatchet at a person? That was borderline paranoia, an overreaction. So, they are not only hiding something in this manor but also hiding who they truly are… How interesting.

Connor moved a little closer to Meryl which immediately drew her attention. His frame almost took up the small escape route behind the sofa. His chestnut eyes were cold and glowered down at her.

"I did not find anybody with the name "Briar" in New York." He declared in a stern tone, the distrust oozing from his entire being.

Meryl scoffed and she rubbed the palms against her face. She got up too and looked at both men with her hands on her hips, they had to be fucking kidding. The sight and smell of bullshit has never been this pungent in her life, ever.

"You mean to tell me, that you've asked the entire population of New York about my family name?" Meryl took a stand, expressing in hand gestures and body language just how ridiculous this bullshit was. "Okay, you know what? This is the biggest bullshit I have ever heard in my life."

"Miss Briar, we have connections in New York as well and the community is fairly small." Achilles confirmed with a very stern voice that she never heard before, he even got up using his cane. "Everybody is familiar with each other, however your full name is unfamiliar, even the name Briar does not appear to exist."

Meryl raked through her brain trying to remember what her custodial grand parents have told her about her Scottish ancestors about. She felt Connor's presence growing more menacing with distrust and hostility and she just kept her ground not the slightest intimidated by either of them although in the inside she was crumbling to bits.

"Okay, you know what? I am done with this, _all of this_!" Meryl exclaimed reaching her point of restraint, patience and politeness. "What if I don't want to reveal my background for personal reasons, hmm? Has that ever crossed your mind before? I find it frankly disturbing that it appears to be common for _you_ to treat visitors or travelers like this! You have lost the ability to trust a person by their actions and by their words!"

"Miss Briar-

-_No you listen to me, Achilles_!" Meryl viciously snapped back at Achilles which made Connor growl in protest. "I have taken all your abuse without any complaints! I saved Connor's people then saved _him, _I saved Myriam, I have been friendly to you, Connor, your friends and the domestics, I have helped around the house, I have been friendly all this time – and yet these actions prove absolutely _nothing_ to you? Instead you repay my kindness by suspecting me, _spying on me!_"

Meryl bit her lip, lowering her eyes, emotions welling up in her, the knot in her throat that she hadn't felt in years making itself present. She tried to control her heavy breathing, then she snapped her attention to Achilles then to Connor, the defiant fieriness in her eyes trying to cover up the growing moisture in her eyes.

"_What more_ do I have to do prove the world that I can be trusted!" she exclaimed in hoarse voice, the wall of control and discipline disintegrating with the vividness of her emotions tearing through her body like a flash flood.

The tension in Connor's appearance vanished and so did the hostility in his eyes and body language, it was replaced by genuine surprise but also a foreign emotion that bewildered him so much that Meryl was able to run out of the room.

Overpowering emotions that had been suppressed for time immemorial took over her mind and body, controlling her, and propelling her body. She had no idea where she was going, the cataclysmic hurricane of emotions blinded and numbed all her senses and injected her limbs with a surge of energy to run away, escape from the pain, escape from the world.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**HELLO HELLO my dear readers! I AM BACK! YESSSSSSSSS! Phew! I finished summer class a week ago and needed to recover a little bit. My body had decided to give me a horrendous cold to celebrate the beginning of my summer break...Yeah, it was a such a fml week, but I am close to fully recovered (I can breath through my nose again XD). So, since I am back, this means more chapters will be published for your pleasure XD I am SUPER PUMPED! **

**I hope this story continues to entertain you as much as it has been entertaining me :)**

**Thank you very much for your support and your encouraging reviews. I am sorry I am not individually responding to your reviews (I will try .) but I immensely appreciate all of them 3 Keep them coming ;P**

**Now, put on your seat belt fellow readers and enjoy the ride into Chapter 13.**

**PS: Another chapter will be posted very soon, so keep that seat belt on ;P**

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**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

**~ A friend in the darkest time ~**

The vapor of her breath escaped her cold trembling lips and chattering teeth. The sound of the scrunching of snow beneath her feet grew louder with each step signaling the gradual return to her senses and self-awareness. She felt the resistance of the snow, the texture underneath the soles of her boots. Her senses expanded further to incorporate more elements. The silence of the night, the darkness, the chill of the air, the occasional arctic breeze that carried a mix of wet and dry air, and the scent of wet wood.

Meryl stopped in her steps, fully regaining control of herself and her awareness. Clarity returned leaving such a strong sense of acuteness of her surroundings that it immediately put her on guard. She realized that she had somehow managed to grab a thick shawl with her and had it draped around her body. Well, at least she was not entirely stupid. All around her as far as the eye could see was dense, thick forest with pine trees outnumbering the bare ones. Darkness and shadows lingered everywhere preventing the human eye to distinguish anything beyond a certain parameter. She had no clue where she was. The sky was dark and murky with no stars. Small snowflakes had begun to fall lowering the visibility to a lousy few feet which also encouraged a blizzard like fog to descend upon her.

She was fucked and nothing could save her.

The despair, the hopelessness and loneliness struck her like the impact of a boulder on her shoulders. She was hyperventilating when the realization hit her that she was possibly going to die in this deadly wilderness.

"Get a grip, Meryl." She muttered to herself, surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded. "It's the wrong time to bitch out; you are a Marine for fuck's sake! _Act like one!_"

She slapped both her palms against her cheeks; letting the stinging sensation reel her emotions back in. Meryl looked around. The snow was covering her tracks at deceptive speed. She had to hurry up and trace them back as fast as she could. She turned around and jogged, following her footsteps. The snow was at times knee deep and other times ankle deep. Meryl had no idea how far away she was from the Davenport manor. It could be miles. The fact that it was night crippled her ability to find her bearings.

She was angry at herself. Great, her emotions killed her! It was akin to willingly walking into the line of fire.

In her mumbles filled with curses at herself, she pushed and persisted until the tracks became covered from the snow. She saw a clearing up ahead, a break in the fog caused by the blizzard which filled her with elation and relief. Meryl was filled with hope again. She ran towards the clearing, but it was too late.

The clearing was actually a cliff caused by recent erosion which dropped to a seemingly harmless few feet below into more snow. Meryl had attempted to stop herself from falling down which failed causing her to be catapulted forward sending her rolling down the sloping terrain.

She cried out as she rolled down. She tried to grasp onto anything but the centrifugal forces prevented her from doing anything other than hitting every single obstacle in her path. In mid-roll her left arm got snagged somewhere pulling it so hard at an awkward angle that it dislocated it from its socket. She screamed from the pain and the shock. Then her body smashed midriff first into a tree which abruptly halted her from rolling further. The impact restricted the air and preventing her from screaming in pain. Then her body gasped and heaved like an asthma attack, desperately trying to breathe again. The panic set in. Overpowering dizziness seized her and disoriented her knocking her to the side. The darkness began to crown above her vision with her body desperate for air. She mustn't pass out! With a growl she tried to crawl onto her knees which she managed, she grabbed a hand full of snow with her right hand and smashed it to her face to shock herself.

_Stay awake! Breathe! Breathe for fuck's sake! _

Fearful tears rolled down her cheeks her breath coming out hollow and in short bursts. Panic set in.

As she kneeled on the ground her mind was utterly focused on the body's pain and discomfort, she had to wrestle that attention away to calm herself.

"Meryl… get a fucking… grip of yourself!" she panted, clenching her jaw with growing anger and determination. "You… have been…through worse things… _this is nothing!_"

She began to focus on her will, the will to live and then home and the people. Kazuma's warm face appeared in her sight like punch to the face, overwhelming her to such a degree that it filled her up with renewed energy and hope.

Her breathing had evened out and it was a little painful. She touched her lower ribs, hissing as she felt they were maybe cracked or broken from the impact. The bottom two ribs on each side were damaged. Her left arm dangled at her side, she locked her jaw, placed her right hand on her left shoulder and with a grunt placed it back into its socket.

"ARRRRRGH!" she bellowed in guttural voice and grunted through her teeth to calm herself down.

After regaining again some clarity of mind, she realized that she was probably back on low terrain. She grabbed hold of the tree trunk, raising herself up to her feet with grunt. Her ankle was fucked once again, this time on her left, so basically the left side of her body was fucked, left leg and left arm. Luckily her dominant limbs were still fine, maybe bruised, but still functional. She dragged herself to her feet, limping down the sloping hill, hoping to come to more flat terrain. Swears escaped her lips whenever her body made the slightest movement. She was sure that she was covered in bruises from head to toe, everything ached.

An eternity later of pain and curses she was finally at the bottom of the hill. Somehow the blizzard had lifted in this low area but it was still incredibly dark. She exhaled with relief. Some infrared and night vision goggles would be so fucking helpful right now, she would be able to trace her way back to the manor. But alas, she would have to wait another 200+ years for that invention.

She pressed on, limping away in the darkness following her gut instinct and relying on her limiting eye sight to prevent herself from walking into obstacles. It was terrifying to limp through the forest in the middle of the night, surrounded by the cold and snow. It was so quiet only the scrunching of snow filled the eerie silence. She was dead meat for pretty much every predator in this forest. She was wounded and crippled, the perfect opportunity to be preyed on. But oh no, she will not go down without putting up a fight!

Yet there she was crippled and powerless without her knife. She had to get back to the manor quickly and yes face them… Face them with shame that she was once again crippled and coming back to them. Did they even give a shit about her? Connor probably shrugged off her tantrum while Achilles claims her knife for himself or something like that. The ladies of the manor she was not sure. They were very nice to her, but did they _really_ like her or was it part of the ruse to make her feel comfortable with the goal of spitting her guts out?

Yup, she had a load of trust issues and she had her reasons for it. Most of them were for survival which still applies.

A wolf's howl rung in the air causing Meryl to flinch and hunker down behind a tree and some shrubbery. Then another series of howls erupted from very close, even several feet in front of her, chilling the air around her. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She decided to stay rooted in that very spot without moving a muscle.

She heard the hurried light scrunching of snow ahead followed by snorts, barks and yelps. The yelp sounded like that of a puppy while the other snorting and light bark came from maybe the mother. Meryl dared to look through the shrubbery and indeed she found a mother wolf, holding her baby by the nape of its neck with her mouth. It was difficult to tell her fur color but she was certainly on the greyer side while her pup was black. She quickly and gently placed the pup down. She raised her head, body erect and ears sharp in alarm listening to her surroundings. After a few moments of remaining like that she relaxed and surveying the area, she focused on a particular part of the terrain. She trotted over towards a boulder that had some shrubbery surrounding it and she began to dig it a hole somewhere behind it. The young black pup yelped and whined for the mother's attention but she was digging out that particular spot. The little skinny pup attempted to waddle in the mother's direction, but whined some more whenever it got stuck somewhere. The mother wolf was done with the digging; she quickly grabbed her pup by the nape of the neck and gently placed it into the hole she prepared. The mother wolf lowered her face so that it was obscured by the shrubbery, a few affectionate snorts and whines were exchanged between the mother and pup until another volley of wolf howls shot through the air.

The mother wolf's body jerked, her head was raised, ears perked and staring in the direction of the howls. Her pup's whines were silenced by the howls. She paused to listen. Then she quickly lowered her head to her pup one last time, exchanging another few last tender seconds of time they had together before she broke into a brisk run leaving her pup behind. Within just a few minutes, a series of scrunching of snow followed by haggard panting, growls and barks grew closer and closer. A pack of wolves, at least 6 of them, sprinted passed the boulder. More howls erupted from that chasing pack and it grew fainter and fainter the further they went.

Meryl waited and waited until nature was quiet again. She breathed easily, now it was time to move. She got up; grinding her teeth to contain the pain then slowly continued her way straight ahead. When she walked further along, just a few feet away passed that boulder she heard a whimpering from the shrubbery. It was the pup.

She couldn't take it with her, what if the mother comes back and sees her? She would get killed. As she took another step the whimper grew louder which made her tense up. That little shitter would alarm the rest of them and they would tear her to shreds!

The blizzard was rolling back in again and the snow grew heavier and bigger. Meryl looked back to the boulder. That pup was going to die in this cold… Why should she care? Countless baby animals die in the natural world because they were either too weak or their mothers were killed. It was hardcore survival of the fittest and this was not any different.

Another scared, mournful and pained cry erupted from the pup, tearing at Meryl's heart strings like she never felt before. She knew if she left this little guy, she would never forgive herself. With a sigh, she turned around and walked towards the boulder. She heard the excited yapping of the little pup. When she kneeled down and pushed some of the shrubbery away from her sight. There a little wolf's head bobbed with a pair of round arctic blue eyes staring back at her. Locked and sealed forever into her mind and body. She immediately fell in love with that pup. She tentatively brought her hand close to his snout; it hesitantly sniffed it a few times until it gave her a small lick of approval. She chuckled and smiled, feeling a strong sense of affection and tenderness wash over her. The pup rubbed its head against her hand as she caressed him. He crawled out of his spot. He was tiny and skinny, still a little awkward on its feet, but strong and stubborn. Meryl scooped him up gently, placing him in the crook of her right arm and wrapping him warmly within her shawl.

The little black wolf was so quiet and relaxed that it actually even fell asleep, snuggled against her shawl.

"This is what maternity feels like, huh." She mumbled to herself, watching affectionately the little pup sleeping.

Then she returned her full attention to survival and getting back home to the manor in one piece. The blizzard had gotten worse; the wind blew and howled whipping the snowflakes about in Meryl's face. She was freezing now, the wetness of the snow sinking through her boots. Her clothes were wet around the legs from trudging through the snow. The pup in fear and discomfort burrowed itself deeper into the shawl. The snow was falling so heavy that she was not able to see more than a few feet in front of her.

Then finally to her left, she saw an outline of a crack against the rock face which expanded further down to reveal a cave. She immediately moved in that direction, limping quickly and swiftly across. It was an oversized boulder the size of a small apartment complex. She found the carved out cave and went in without hesitation. It was not deep, but if a fire was prepared then it would keep them nice and warm. The ground was dry and she found bits of dried shrubbery and some sticks lying about. She placed the pup on the ground carefully with the shawl wrapped around it. The pup looked up from its spot with curiosity, cocking its head and ears about. She grabbed the sticks and shrubbery and tried starting a fire cave man style by rubbing the tip of the stick to the middle part of the other laid out stick.

She attempted a few times and failed and failed, until when she was about to give up a spark caught onto the dried shrubbery. The pup backed away with a frightened yelp, hiding behind the shawl. Meryl quickly gathered the sticks and shrubbery to kindle the sparks and she gently blew and blew until she had a small little camp fire in front of her. Her body shivered uncontrollably even as her hands hovered close to the flames.

The pup whimpered. She looked over, chuckling as she saw the little pup having difficulty crawling out of the shawl. She crawled over to its side, scooped the shawl and puppy into her arms and sat in front of the fire. She put the shawl over her trembling shoulders, stared into the flames while she caressed the little guy. The little creature equally stared into the mesmerizing flames.

"You better not touch it, little guy, otherwise you will turn a roast." She chuckled then lifted him up against the flames to look at him more carefully.

The little wolf had a shiny black pelt with a gorgeous set of blue eyes. It's face was still very round and small, taking on the typical puppy German shepard features. It panted with its tongue poking out of its mouth with a carefree and cheerful expression in its eyes. She brought it closer to her and rolled him on its back to inspect it.

"Awww, you are a boy too, aren't you?" she cooed as she rubbed his tummy which he responded with a pleased yap.

Her body gradually warmed up to the little camp fire, but she knew it would not last for long. She maybe had 30 minutes or less to soak up on the heat, after that... Hypothermia would kick in.

She lay down on her side, covered herself with the shawl and brought the pup close to her body. He didn't resist much and equally allowed himself to be drifted away by sleep. No sooner Meryl felt the drowsiness overcome herself, her eyelids grew heavier and so did her body. She was exhausted, cold and injured… She didn't have much energy to stay awake for long. Then her body dropped into deep slumber.

* * *

"Stay awake, Meryl." A deeper voice and concerned voice echoed and nudged her.

She felt the rhythmic sway under her body followed by the clopping and crunching of steps below her. She was straddling something that was very warm and furry. She heard the snorting. Somebody was holding her in place, as she felt the warmth behind her back and around her arms, as if somebody was embracing her from behind.

Meryl managed to strain an eye open, the blizzard was everywhere, the wind howling and the snow hitting them like needles. She felt so weak; the person behind her quickly caught her before she could tumble off the horse. Her eyes caught sight of the strong arms clothed in a faded whitish-beige rough material accompanied by fingerless gloves revealing tan fingers.

Almost instantly her heart dropped. She turned her head around to confirm her fears.

That tanned face that was obscured by a hood, looked down at her, she could vaguely make out his stark chestnut brown eyes staring at her from underneath the shadow of the hood.

She was on a horse!? A saddled one, thank God. She sat upfront while he sat behind her. A rope was tied around her midriff to prevent her from falling off the horse. This was the closest that she ever came to Connor and it felt on one hand nerve wrecking while on the other soothing and pleasant.

"Connor?" she breathed weakly, surprised that he had rescued her.

Then she looked down and around herself, panic gripping her as if she lost her child.

"Where is the pup?"

Connor pointed to a satchel that hung on the side of the horse. Without a moment to spare she opened it, the pup lay curled inside, its paws over its head, cowering in fear from the blizzard.

"Poor baby," she mumbled and caressed the pup affectionately. "We are soon there, hold on."

Thankfully the pup was still small enough to fit in that satchel if he was any older it Connor might have abandoned him.

"He has claimed you as his mother." Connor stated loudly over the howl of the wind.

Meryl chuckled and she caressed the pup one more time and closed the satchel.

"Where are we?" she asked still feeling weak, titling her head so that she looked back at Connor.

"Close to the Davenport manor." He responded quickly, his straightforward chestnut eyes looking at her unblinking.

She looked at him, feeling beyond grateful and relieved that she was rescued. Then the drowsiness and cold got ahold of her again, dropping her body temperature and slowing down all her body functions. Darkness began to spread from on top of her vision once again and she didn't have the strength to fight it.

"Thank you…" she managed to breathe one last time, before her entire body became limp and slumped over.

She heard him calling her name a few times with high alarm and concern, but his voice faded away and so did the sensation of his strong arms holding her in place.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Hey guys XD I am going to keep the commentary to a minimum. I am back with another chapter XD Chapter 13 and 14 are closely connected so I wanted to keep the flow going ;) **

**THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS! THEY ARE SO AWESOME! YOU ALL ARE SO AWESOME! ON WITH THE SHOW! And I will see you next month :3**

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**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

**~ Reconciliation, bitch please ~**

Meryl's subconscious wandered everywhere. The sensory overload caused chaos. For a moment there was light and darkness, then hushed and hurried voices.

After struggling to keep her sanity, everything finally evened out, peace and relaxation returned. It was warm. She was cozy, surrounded by warmth and softness. Then she heard the sudden scrapping of something, maybe a critter, crawling about on the floor.

A rather meek and high pitched howl erupted, followed by a yap and a whine. The scraping and scratching continued which sounded more like a creature slipping and sliding on the oak floor trying to find something to grip with its claws.

Meryl groaned, feeling how parched her throat was. Her heavy eyes cracked open. After blinking and rubbing her eyes a few times, she recognized the familiar dull grey ceiling and the familiar musky smell of the room. She was in her bedroom again at Davenport manor in her four poster bed. With a grunt and pained groan she managed to make herself sit up. Her entire body ached, it was the worst kind of physical worse than muscle pain. She felt like shit. She took a deep breath which was kind of difficult due to her damaged ribs. She wore another set of clothes made of the hide material, a loose fitting shirt and somewhat loose fitting pants that were a little too big around her body. She sighed.

A meek bark erupted again.

With a hiss Meryl leaned over the edge of her bed. She found the little bobbing head of the black wolf, sitting and tail wagging, with the tongue poking out and panting cheerfully. Meryl's heart swelled in utter happiness.

"Hi boyyyy." She cooed her voice coming across as a whisper due to the dryness, making the little pup stand up and wag its tail more excitedly.

He could not stand still as he paced and twirled around. Then her eyes spotted something which made her heart hammer and her eyes widen in disbelief.

An upholstered seat leaned against the bookshelf which lined the wall where the fireplace was. In it sat Connor, sleeping. He sat with his head slumped to the side, his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his chest with his feet outstretched in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

_A tamed slumbering Connor! That was quite a sight to behold!_

She stared at his slumbering figure with a mix of fascination and curiosity. She could actually blatantly stare at him without any repercussions! YESSS!

He looked so at peace and untroubled. The wrinkles caused by his frown were less noticeable. She sighed with relaxation as she scanned his entire body and let her eyes wander about his body. Her eyes returned to his face. He actually saved her. He had gone out of his way with a horse to find her in that blizzard.

_Had he – had he… been watching over her like this, the entire time? _

A warm fluttering feeling spread at the bottom of her stomach which flooded her system with happiness. Was he doing that out of courtesy? Probably, but the idea that she was worth getting saved, was always a very comforting and pleasing feeling. Now she was in his debt…

_Fuuuuck_.

Then the entire fiasco came back to her which made her slap her palm against her face, in embarrassment.

_How fucking stupid she was! Running out in the middle of a fucking blizzard, well done Meryl! Marine instincts, gone out of the window! If Thompson, her former Marine superior, had heard about this he would have beaten the shit out of her. Her injuries were justified, it was her punishment for her stupidity. _

"Are you all right?"

Meryl violently jerked from the Connor's distinct voice, she hissed grabbing her left arm, feeling a shot of pain at the socket of her shoulder. Connor was wide awake now in his seat. He stood up, rolling his head and then stretched his massive arms and rolled out his broad shoulders.

Meryl suddenly felt self-conscious in his presence. She averted her gaze to avoid his piercing chestnut eyes.

"Uhm, fine, I guess?" she replied her voice sounding hoarse and parched, she grabbed her neck.

Connor moved over to her bedside, the oak floor board creaking under his weighing steps. He poured her a mug of water and handed it to her without saying a word. She shyly accepted it with gratitude, just glancing at him briefly then drinking the mug. She downed the water so quickly that it made her cough, which made her hiss at the pain in her ribs and abdomen.

"_Fuuuuck_." She growled to herself.

She stretched out her mug for another helping which he obliged and she downed the water quickly. He took the mug off of her hands and placed it on the table.

"Thanks, Connor." She said, unsure how to react to his rather accommodating behavior.

She moved to her beside, her feet just barely touching the floor. Meryl suddenly giggled when she felt the licks of the little black wolf at her feet. He yapped happily at her.

"Awww, you stinker." She cooed affectionately, she wanted to reach down to him, but her movements were hindered by not only the thick bandages but by Connor's warning tone.

"Don't overexert yourself."

"Heh, yeah I probably shouldn't."

Connor knelt down on one knee, the little black wolf waddled over to his side with a pleased yap and pant, waging his tail eagerly. Connor's hand touched the wolf's head and the pup rubbed his face against his coarse hand with a whine. Connor displayed a content and peaceful expression, removing the frown from his features. He petted the wolf.

"He is very taken by you." Connor said as he was concentrated on the pup's playful attitude, who now was love-biting Connor's hand. "He was very protective of you. It took him some time to understand my intentions… Where did you find him?"

Connor was kneeling at an angle which made Meryl look directly down at him. Her height and angle over him was in part empowering, he was vulnerable to get stomped in the face by her but also unnerving because he was willing to be in a vulnerable position.

"His mother hid him from the other wolves while she ran away to distract them, at least that is what I hope she did…"

"I see. Wolf packs usually don't take kindly to outsiders…" Connor meant the mother of the pup, so he knew that she was long gone, maybe even killed by the pack.

"I know you would probably say let nature takes its course, but…" Meryl tried to justify herself. "I didn't have the heart to let him die."

Connor observed her for a moment, studying her response.

"It is a common occurrence to encounter wolves, even to fight them if attacked. Their pelts are beneficial and so is their meat." He explained, navigating his attention between Meryl and the pup. "Yet it is rare to find the pup still alive, healthy and also very curious of humans."

It was the first time that Meryl had heard Connor speak that much. That was actually pathetic thing to say, but he spoke very sparingly, at least in her presence. And of course he was still direct with his words.

"I always had a fascination with wolves." Meryl said with a smile, watching the pup fool around. "They are forest assassins, stalkers of the night, the perfect warrior..."

Connor hummed, petting the wolf while listening to her attentively.

"I had a friend who served with me in my unit. He was part Indian and he got me into wolf tribal tattoos."

"Tribal tattoos?" noted Connor with full attention and surprise in his tone and expressions, he even stood up.

"Uhm, I mean drawings with ink into my skin."

"Yes, I know what you mean."

Connor was very stark with his words. It appeared to Meryl that he believed he had misheard her.

"I can show you if you want."

He didn't show any objection until he saw what it entailed. She had to undo the string at the front of her loose fitting shirt that kept her chest well concealed. Immediately she saw hesitancy even discomfort in his demeanor as he lowered his eyes out of respect. It was kind of cute to see him do that, but she did want to show her tats at him. She pulled down her right sleeve revealing her bare shoulder and with the other hand she held the other part of her shirt.

"Here you go that is one part." She said, showing the flame like design of the wolf climbing up her upper arm then another climbing down and touching her collar bone.

Connor flicked his eyes at her, glancing at the design. Then she popped out her entire bare right arm from her shirt, still sitting on the edge of her bed and twisting her body so that he could see the full frontal image of her upper arm. She waited until she saw his eyes scan the tattoo, the unease still visible in his face. She popped her arm back into her shirt, then climbed on the bed, turned her back on him, loosened the front shirt completely so that she could reveal her bare upper shoulders at him. She brushed her hair to the side, revealing the nape of her neck. The fiery tribal design spread like ivy, climbing and clinging along her upper shoulder. Then she turned around to face him, popped out her left arm with a hiss, revealing some miscellaneous tribal flame design on her upper arm. She paused a little then popped her bare left arm back into her shirt, tied the cords and sat back with a content sigh.

Connor's expression and demeanor was quite a mess, there was a mix of interest, curiosity which was overshadowed by tension and unease. The awkwardness that it created made Meryl realize that she might have gone a little overboard with exposing that much skin to him.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to offend you with this." She said apologetically, rubbing the back of her neck and looking sideways. "I get sometimes carried away, I am very proud of my tattoos, probably one of the best decisions I have done in my life."

That awkwardness in the air continued for a bit, both of them didn't look at each other, although at least one of them dared to look more. Connor shifted his weight and cleared his throat.

"Uhm, they are…nice." He said, knowingly trying to clear the awkwardness in the air between them. "I have never seen such distinct markings like that. Is it permanent?"

"Yup." She grinned. "I might need to do a few touch-ups, patch ups I mean, when it starts fading with age, but whatever."

Another silence fell on them, this time it was less awkward but there lingered a foreign tension that Meryl could not pinpoint. Despite the awkwardness, they were finally talking. Meryl gently moved closer to the edge of the bed so that her feet now touched the cool oaken floor. Her left ankle was bandaged tightly. She wanted to inspect her reflection at the vanity which Connor was standing right next to. Meryl got up on her feet a little too quickly, underestimating significantly how weak her body was which caused her to lose her balance.

A strong arm laced protectively around her waist while the other arm steadied her with a grip of the hand on her right forearm.

"Uhm, heh, thanks." She stammered with a nervous chuckle.

Her heart rate shot through the roof and her body became absolutely and acutely aware of the body contact. It made her stomach squirm. It felt like the first time a man had touched. Her mind went blank and then her body went on overdrive.

She wanted more.

Meryl looked up, her eyes immediately staring into his chestnut brown eyes. Their faces were so close, _within fucking kissing range_! It appeared that he too was unsure how to react. The longer they stared in each other's eyes the more their breathing grew heavier. The sudden squeaky bark shattered the atmosphere instantly, grounding both Meryl and Connor back to reality. Meryl chuckled, looking at the pup. Connor withdrew his arm from her waist.

"Do you need assistance?" Connor asked, resuming his neutral calm voice and expression.

"I just want to check my reflection and see… the damage."

He nodded and gently guided her over to the vanity dresser. When she encountered her reflection she gasped, grabbed the edge of the dresser, causing Connor to let her go and she intently inspected her face.

"Holy fuck, Meryl! What the fuck did you do to yourself!?" she almost shrieked.

She turned her face to both sides. Her forehead was bruised near her right temple while on the left temple ran a scratch cutting into her eyebrow. She had a little gash cutting down her lip on her right and some abrasions at her chin. Then she patted down her stomach, she lifted her shirt to reveal her bandaged stomach which caused Connor to avert his eyes. She pulled on the bandage to loosen it until it fell to the floor. She looked into her reflection and groaned.

_It was hideous! It was purple and blue! It looked like she had run at high speed into an object, getting clothe-lined in the process. _

Connor saw the damage and showed discomfort in his expression.

"You should rest." He urged.

"After seeing my face and _this_, I would be glad as hell not to see my reflection for a while."

Without warning he immediately scooped her up in his arms, bridal style and carried her to her bed. He went to get the bandage that was on the floor and brought it over to her bedside.

"May I?" he asked cautiously coupled with responsibility.

Meryl stared at him, the wheels in her turning very slowly. He indicated at the bandage in his hands.

"Oh? … Ohhhhh, okay!." She realized with some embarrassment, feeling her face heat up. "You don't have to, you know."

He shrugged off, indicating with hand gestures that she should move closer to the edge of the bed. She did as she was told. She rolled up her shirt and she twisted it so that it cleanly stopped right under her breasts. She sat up straight while he knelt down at her legs. With so much focus he began to bandage her carefully, tugging a little here and there as he wound the bandage around her bruised lower ribs area. His arms grazed her sides as he wound the bandage around her sending sparks up and down her body.

_It was torture._

_Was he teasing her? Was he testing her reactions?_

She looked down at him, his entire demeanor focused and committed to the task at hand. So many powerful feelings swirled within her…

She wanted to touch him, yet her body reacted like it would be touching fire. She couldn't bring herself to do it.

_This is temporary, remember? _

Her body went numb. What if that was really true? What if all this was temporary? She shouldn't even grow attached to anything in this world. The strong feelings she had felt towards Connor now disintegrated and filled her with disgust. Thankfully, he withdrew before she could act upon these sentiments. He finished with bandaging her and took a few steps back, once again out of courtesy. She covered herself up quickly. Another wave of tension rose between them.

But the persisting and impatient cute barks drew both Connor and Meryl's attention away from each other. It also removed the new tension that had been created. They both looked at the pup who had waddled over to Meryl's bedside. He tried to climb up the bed, but it was too high for him to reach. Meryl chuckled and with a hiss caused by a shot of pain in her abdomen, she scooped up the pup and brought it close to her.

The little pup wagged its tail, yapped and whined in utter happiness. She petted him which he relished so feverishly that he thumped his front paws against her chest to lick her face. Meryl giggled and cuddled him.

"Aren't you a cutie." She cooed, giving the little pup a hug. "I should give you a name…"

She lifted the pup up to look at it intently. The pup's curious blue eyes looked at her, its small mouth giving her a long drawn yawn that ended with a squeak and a wiggle of discomfort from being held up like that. Somehow as she studied the wolf, memories of home came to her and one particular face stood out.

"Kazuma…"

It slipped out of her mouth unconsciously, leaving a saddened undertone to her voice. It made her pensive. Kazuma's face appeared in front of her eyes, his warm eyes and thick coarse black hair.

"Kaz…" Connor tried to pronounce the name but faltered with insecurity.

"KAH-zoo-mah." Meryl dictated to Connor. "Ka-zu-ma."

"Ka-zu-ma." He repeated slowly after her and she nodded approvingly.

He continued to practice the name under his breath.

"You can shorten the name to "Kaz" as well. It's the name of my childhood friend, his name means "true harmony" or something like that." Meryl explained with a grin, cuddling with the pup. "The pup kind of reminds me of him and it is such a strong and fitting name for him."

"In what tongue is it?" Connor asked, curious about the name.

"Japanese – to the far east of Asia."

Connor probably pretended to understand (or maybe he did understand) as he did not show confusion or more interest in the topic. Meryl somewhat cringed at the information she divulged. For all she cared Japan was maybe not even open to the West yet or not even discovered. Maybe since Achilles was his mentor Connor might be educated about the maps of the world. Either way he seemed to be taking the information pretty well.

Connor went to the window and opened the curtains so that more daylight could pour into the room. It was still the early morning judging from how dim the light was. For a moment he looked out. Meryl watched him. His frown deepened. There again was that expression in his eyes and in his face. His body was immobile but his mind was wandering, searching, chasing after something – it created a storm in his dead-set eyes. He interrupted his stare, lowered his eyes for a moment then turned his body and face to Meryl.

"I have a few errands to do." He declared, his eyes glazed over to cover up the ever-searching restlessness in his eyes.

_What was he looking for? _

He walked to the door and then stopped in his steps to look at her.

"Please, rest and get better."

"I will…," Meryl responded promptly but then showed some hesitance. "Thank you… for saving me, Connor."

There was just a flicker of appreciation in his eyes and a mild tug of his lip. He didn't feel the need to express it in words, so he gave her a nod and left the room without a word.

* * *

On the same day the sun began to climb the clear cool morning sky with its sun rays touching the expansive terrain of the Homestead community. The Davenport manor sprung to life, the patting of footsteps against the oak floors, the clanking of dishes, pots and pans, the idle chatter and laughter between the domestics and the gentle slam of doors.

Meryl got out of her bed with a hiss, her entire body still stiff and achy. She walked very slowly to the dresser, she wanted to have a look at herself once more and also do something about her blasted left arm. She found some leftover bandage and made herself a sling to hold her left arm in place. That felt better. With her right hand she poured some water into the bowl and dipped a cloth into it to wipe down her face.

She looked like she had been through hell. At first glance people would think domestic abuse, but at closer inspection it looked like she took a tumble. Little Kazuma whined and took a mouthful of fabric from the hem of her pants, tugging at it for attention.

"What's wrong Kazuma?" she studied the pup's behavior and then it dawned upon her "Are you hungry and thirsty?"

He whined some more which seem to confirm her assumption. When Meryl was about to make her way to the door, she heard approaching footsteps. The door opened and in walked Ingrid with a tray of tea and some breakfast. With a shriek of surprise and horror she quickly placed the tray on the table and scrambled to Meryl's to give her a tight hug.

"Ach, Schatz! Thank the heavens that you are all right and awake!" she cried out with relief, caressing and patting Meryl as if she was her child.

Meryl grew rigid from the sudden physical contact and from the mothering. Ingrid caressed her hair with care and she pulled away showing a sincere smile which then quickly changed to a concerned one.

"You had us very worried, Schätzchen!" she declared in earnest. "What possessed you to run out into the storm like that?"

Meryl opened her mouth and she tried to say something but Ingrid sighed with exasperation.

"I still cannot forgive how Master Achilles and Connor have treated you, interrogating you like a common criminal!"

More hurried footsteps came from the hallway and in barged Marie and Hanna, their faces beaming at the sight of Meryl.

"Hun, you are awake!" cheered Marie and she rushed over to give a big hug.

Hanna walked over, keeping her distance but giving a bright smile.

"Hun, I swear I have given the master and Connor a piece of ma mind!" said Marie unabashedly honest and displeased by the occurrence, "How dare they treat you like this, you were nothing but an angel to us."

_Okay, "angel" was a bit extreme. If they could take a look at her life, they would immediately reconsider that word._

But, it did feel very nice to feel cared for. It has been a while since she felt the directness of these genuine sentiments. It made her grin how these ladies gave Achilles and Connor an earful.

"Ach Gott and these horrid injuries." Ingrid cupped her own cheeks in dismay, looking at Meryl with saddened eyes "What have you done to yourself, Miss Briar? Do you have so little regard for your well-being?"

"Not really," Meryl replied for the first time since they all were in her room. "I am just prone to injuring myself."

Ingrid raised her eyebrow unconvinced and mildly annoyed by her response.

"Either way, back to bed with you, you need your rest." She instructed Meryl sternly and then showed some disapproval looking down at the little black wolf who had been quietly watching them all "And don't worry, we will take care of the little mutt of yours."

"Ingrid, he is a wolf!" Meryl corrected in defense, scooping up the wolf into her arms and caressing the tummy. "He is such a cutie, look at him."

Kazuma barked with approval, panting with his tongue out. Ingrid still looked at him with some repulsion, but Hanna immediately swooped over, her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement like that of a child. She wanted to hold the pup. Meryl noticed her expression with a pleased smile and handed the pup to her. Hanna received the pup with an expression of awe, looking at Meryl with the widest grateful grin she could muster. She held him close, giggling as he licked her cheek.

"Good, we have that settled. Now Miss Briar, back to bed with you." Ingrid ordered, ushering Meryl back to her bed. "We will take care of all your needs, so I beg of you, _please,_ keep to your bed."

"Fine, Ingrid. I will do as you say." Meryl sighed with defeat then she looked at Marie. "Marie can you find me some kind of entertainment? Me and boredom, absolutely don't mix well."

"Hun," Marie placed both her hands on her hips with a sassy sway, the playful glint back in her eyes. "The potential source of "entertainment" has left the manor hours ago."

Meryl eyed her with a dismissive "are you serious look". Marie was talking about Connor of course. Marie's confident smile widened while her insinuations made Meryl feel queasy in the inside, but she shook off that sentiment quickly before Marie could read it. Hanna shrugged off the conversation as she was engrossed by the little black wolf. Meryl quickly changed the conversation.

"By the way, the black wolf is a boy and he is named "Kazuma"."

"You have named him now?" remarked Ingrid which made Meryl cross her arms over her chest in disapproval towards her attitude.

"His name is Kazuma, meaning "true harmony" and the abbreviation of his name is Kaz."

Hanna looked up at Meryl, mouthing the name which Meryl helped to enunciate for her. Hanna got the hang of the name and smiled approvingly of the ring of it. Then Meryl remembered something in regards to the pup.

"How is Master Achilles about the pup staying?" Meryl inquired with unease.

Ingrid walked over with the tray and placing it on the night table next to Meryl's bed.

"He is fine with it, hun." Marie chimed in, gathering some of the old dishes that were lying on the table near the window. "As long you take responsibility for him – of course once you get better – in the meantime Hanna shall watch him, right Hanna?"

Hanna looked like she was about to squeal in utter delight and she nodded so energetically that it earned a round of laughter from Marie and Meryl.

"Enough chatter and laughter, ladies." Ingrid interrupted gently. "Marie take the dishes down to the kitchen and work on today's meals. Hanna take the pup with you and for God's sake make sure you watch him and clean after him. The last thing I want is to clean _another_ stain from the carpet or a puddle in the middle of the hallway."

Marie and Hanna left the room quickly, knowing too well about Ingrid's flare ups. It even surprised Meryl how fast the ladies left the room. Now only Ingrid was left, prepping some tea and toast for Meryl. Meryl moved to the head of her bed so that the night table was in front of her. Ingrid handed her the tea and Meryl sipped from and sighed with content.

"Miss Briar."

"Yes?"

Meryl saw how troubled Ingrid looked. She backed away, her hands placed in front of her apron.

"Please take care of yourself, Miss Briar."

Meryl studied Ingrid's behavior with some reservation.

"This is the frontier, please watch yourself."

"Ingrid, it's okay. I am fine." Meryl reassured her, but Ingrid seemed little convinced judging from her lowered gaze. "Ingrid, please don't worry about me. I am capable of watching myself"

Ingrid left a pause to gather herself, she took a deep breath and looked Meryl straight in her eyes.

"Promise me that you will not senselessly endanger yourself."

"But I-

-_Promise me, Miss Briar_!" Ingrid raised her voice sternly.

Meryl was taken aback by Ingrid's stern tone and the vivid concern visible in her face. She was still surprised that people cared for her.

"I promise I will try, Ingrid," asserted Meryl "But like you said this is the frontier, danger is everywhere."

Ingrid sighed, crossing her arms across her chest in denial.

"I beg you to be on your guard and make wise decisions."

Meryl chuckled.

"Believe me what I did was beyond stupid, I assure you this will never happen again."

"I will take your word for it, Miss Briar." She gave Meryl a challenging look which Meryl responded with a confident smile.

"You were out cold for two days, Miss Briar, hence my concern." She added now in a lighter mood which stunned Meryl.

"2 days, huh." Meryl repeated with disbelief.

Then Ingrid's behavior grew very giddy and she smiled.

"Connor was very helpful and attentive during this time."

"He was?"

Ingrid sensed in Meryl's tone some doubt and surprise which made Ingrid disappointed.

"Schatz. He may be aloof and rough around the edges, but deep down he is a good man." Ingrid explained with a hint of bitterness, as if Meryl and Connor's banter was a bound to end in a tragic drama "Give him a chance, in time you will see what I mean."

Meryl did see what she meant. Connor had begun to show a more human side to himself. But he still remained distant and mysterious, but he was interacting with her which was at least something.

"Uhm, Ingrid?"

"Yes?"

"Did Connor by chance stay at my bed side the past two days?"

Ingrid gave Meryl a warm smile and nodded.

"I presume you met him this morning?"

Meryl nodded and Ingrid smiled wider, the warmth making her presence beam.

"I have caught him sneaking peeks into your room while you were unconscious and he asked about your well being very regularly." Ingrid continued with a proud smile. "I also caught him sleeping in that chair."

Meryl's heart fluttered from the information. She was thrilled that he felt responsible but this did not prove if he actually cared for her. He could be doing this out of courtesy.

"Ingrid, I too would do that if he had been in my situation."

Ingrid responded with a smile although there was a glint in her eyes which Meryl chose not to pursue. Ingrid cleared her throat and moved to the door.

"Anyway, I shall leave you to enjoy your breakfast. Please rest and let me take care of you." Declared Ingrid, but then she noticed something as she looked at Meryl's clothes. "I apologize for the garments you are wearing; they were the only loose fitting clothes we have in our possession."

"No worries, I prefer this over a dress." Meryl chuckled, but now she was curious of the owner of these clothes "Who do they belong to?"

"Connor, when he was younger."

Meryl's heart jumped to her throat and she looked down at her body with surprise. Oh great, now she was having skin contact with Connor.

"Give me a shout if you need anything, otherwise as scheduled I shall bring your lunch by noon."

Ingrid left the room with a smile, leaving Meryl to her own thoughts.

Meryl helplessly groaned. Nothing, not even an innocent pair of clothes could separate her from Connor. Then realization hit her, actually did reconciliation happen with Connor or was it all in her imagination? Another exasperated groan escaped from her lips.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Hey hey heeeeey! Here is a new chapter XD Sorry for the delay, been so busy with life and writing. I wanted to thank all of you for your continuous reviews and feedback. I really, really appreciate each one of them, it makes me happy and proud knowing that you all enjoy the story and its characters. It's is going to be a long ride and I hope y'all have enough supplies to last for this journey. I am investing my energy and love for this story and I hope it will continue to make you smile, laugh, cry and affect you as much as it has been affecting me.**

**I want to keep the updates to twice a month, the beginning of the month and end of the month. But when classes start again (very soon .) I might have to reduce it to once a month or once every other month. I will let you know whenever I make any updates on the chapters or my profile.**

**Thank you all again for the support, reviews, following, favoriting and so forth, they mean a lot to me. Without your encouragement this story would not have taken off in the first place.**

**Y'all have a pleasant week and see you very soon XD**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

**~ Hitting a brick wall ~**

A week passed and Meryl was still healing albeit slowly due to her restless state. Against the wishes of Ingrid, Marie, Hanna, Achilles and Connor, well everybody, she constantly moved around a lot which probably did hinder her from healing up faster. One of the reason was her new pet wolf, Kazuma, needed her attention and the other reason was that she could not sit in one place for too long. She has always been an active person and remaining in one spot for too long drove her crazy. Her ribs were healing up nicely, the swelling had receded and bruises were still present and painful but less pronounced. Some scabs had formed on some of her scuffs on her face, particularly around her eyebrow, upper lip, cheek and chin. The bruises were still some purpely-green-yellow. Her left arm still felt rigid and uncomfortable especially around the socket but it was getting better. She kept her left arm in a sling. Her left ankle was fine now although her overall body movements were still sluggish, restrictive and rigid. She could only do Tai Chi routines in secret in her room even though it still was painful to do some of them.

Her little wolf, Kazuma was quite the handful. He grew a few inches and gained a few pounds so that he was more stocky and healthy but still a pup. He waddled less, he looked like a few weeks old puppy with his features taking more and more definition. His snout area was growing longer and so were his ears. There was a joyful, carefree yet dignified air about him, but he took every waking moment of his conscious state to annoy everybody by pissing and shitting everywhere. Of course he had to be litter trained but since he was a wolf, a rather sly one, he cleverly weaseled himself out of everything. He knocked over things, gnawed and scratched at fabrics (particularly leather things). He appeared to pay great attention to Meryl but Connor's command and presence seemed to affect him more than she liked to admit. Connor had that natural connection with nature and beasts which made him able to tame Kazuma very quickly whenever he was around.

New Years passed without much activity or festivity. It was a personal time for the residents of Davenport manor. Of course, Meryl drank with the domestics to celebrate the New Year of 1774 while Achilles kept to himself in his study, scribbling down notes and doing accounting related things. It had snowed again so everybody remained indoors, well, except Connor. He was always on the move, waking up at the crack of dawn and returning back at sunset or even later while everybody was asleep. He did that everyday regardless of the weather. Everyday Meryl heard him leave and return to his room. His careful lumbering steps against the creaking oak floor kept her wary of his presence. Out of the 7 days that had passed she had seen him only once (and a half), passing her in the lobby/entrance of the manor. Either he was so fucking busy or he was deliberately avoiding her, but she honestly didn't care if it was one or the other. She was busy recuperating while also trying hard not to lose her shit due to boredom. Ingrid's overprotective behavior was driving her nuts and she found herself constantly reminding Ingrid that her injuries were not life threatening and that she had worse. Ingrid did not like the latter half of her explanation and she always threw her a dirty look in her direction.

At least Marie and Hanna were pretty chill, they cheered her up, kept her company whenever they could and were extremely helpful with taking care of Kazuma. At least Marie had more restraint and was more sensitive to Meryl in that she did not go overboard with her usual very nosy self. Not that Meryl minded, but sometimes it made things more awkward than it should.

As for awkwardness, even though there had been some reconciliation between her and Connor it was still weird. There was an underlying tension between them that was difficult to define. For Meryl the awkwardness she felt towards him was the result of discovering a strong attraction to him whereas from his side it was related to distrust or something.

And finally…

_Where the fuck was her BELOVED KNIFE!?_

They still hadn't returned her precious knife! She almost died without it! Achilles, that old man, avoided her like the plague. Every time she happened to be downstairs, he was never to be found! To sum it up, she was in a weird stage in her relationship and status with Achilles, Connor and the residents of the Davenport manor. She could be trusted but not really, they cared for her but not really. Again, it was an odd state.

Anyway, back to the present. In the 7 days that Connor was in and out of the manor, on the last two days he did not come back. The domestics did not show any concern as they reassured Meryl that it was a common thing. He could be gone for days, weeks even months and come back as if nothing happened. As Ingrid put it, he came and left as he pleased without much objection (unless Achilles explicitly had a deadline set up for him). Meryl was still very curious by Connor's little _errands._ Her curiosity kept growing and it won't stop until she got to the bottom of this. What was he doing exactly that required him to not only be out of the house a lot but also be so secretive about? The ladies were tight lipped about Connor's and for that matter, Achilles, profession.

Meryl was in her bedroom, sitting in the darkness of the night on the seat facing the crackling fire of the fire place. She had taken her covers, wrapped it around her body and was sitting in the upholstered seat gazing in the flames. Little Kazuma was nestled on her lap, lazily gazing with her into the flames. He gave a long drawn yawn, ending in a whine. She pet his head with reassurance. She had no idea what time it was. They didn't really have any clocks set up in her room. There was one grandfather clock standing in Achilles study and another one in the living area. She didn't need to know the time. She knew it was late into the night, probably even early morning as the manor was utterly silent. Meryl felt strangely wide awake on this particular night.

_Creak._

Meryl's body jerked in response to the sudden low creaking sound coming from the stairs further down the hallway. Kazuma instantly sensed the tension in his master, perked his ears and head up towards the door. The creaking stopped.

Meryl was wide awake. She got up quietly and placed Kazuma on the seat. Kazuma whined in protest but she hushed him so that she could listen carefully.

The creaking resumed in a consistent pattern but it was less careful even rather sluggish. It appeared that the individual made no effort to remain stealthy. Meryl moved to her door with a hiss, her body still a little dull and uncomfortable. She kept close to the door, pressed her back against the wall beside the door. The creaking approached closer and closer, but it was painfully slow. Either that person was too tired to move quickly or that person had difficulty moving about in the dark. She grabbed the door handle, her heart hammering and her body ready to expect the worst. She opened a split, took a deep breath still leaning against the wall and then she peeked through the split. At the other end of the hallway, just a few feet away from the stairs in the dimness of the night stood the towering frame of Connor. He had his back facing in her direction. He was walking in a rather strange way, his balance was quite a bit off. It looked like each step he made weighed more than a ton each. His body appeared rigid with discomfort. He also was grabbing his left arm. Meryl's eyes widened.

He was injured!

Connor's legs gave away and he dropped on one knee, hissing. Meryl stood there glued at her door. Should she help? Or…

Resolutely she opened the door and closed it behind her. Meryl jogged down the hallway rushing to Connor's side. Connor's body jolted from the sound of footsteps, he turned around, putting himself in a fighting stance. Noticing his fighting stance, she stopped just a few feet to allow him some space and also allow him to recognize her. He was pretty banged up. Bruises on his cheek, a gash on his left eyebrow. His hair and clothes was disheveled, he was out of breath and weakened. His hostile face calmed down a little to reveal a scorn when he realized who was standing in front of him.

"Connor, it's me, Meryl." She reassured him in a calm voice, keeping her voice low.

Connor looked like he was high strung from the adrenaline. His breathing came back more deeply and controlled. His legs shook and once again he collapsed on one knee with a hiss, grabbing his sides.

Meryl's stomach dropped with concern, she rushed over to his side, laced her arm around his side while she took his arm and laced it around the back of her neck to hoist him up. He hissed some more trying his hardest to keep calm and help her support his weight.

"Where is your room?"

He groaned and gestured in front of him. It was two doors down on the left side. They hobbled to the last door, opened it. She ushered him to his bed which he plopped down on. Meryl quickly looked around the room, she found a candle sitting on a table in corner. She went over and lit it. Not even his fire place was burning! The logs were fresh laid and prepared but not lit. Meryl lit the fire, and stoked it. It took her a moment to create a strong fire. Then she grabbed the candle to bring it to Connor's night table which was on the right side of the bed.

Connor had begun to take off the weapons from his body and was beginning to peel off his coat.

"Thank you…you can leave now…" he said with heavy breathing, struggling to peel off his coat.

Meryl stood and watched him with amusement as he tried in vain to take off his coat. Meryl sighed then right away went for the sleeve of his coat. Connor spotted her movements and tried to pull away but he hissed in pain. Meryl stood in front of him, holding onto the bottom of the sleeve of his coat, almost touching his right hand.

"Connor just let me help you with this, okay?"

Connor looked at her, his chestnut eyes questioning the motives behind her words and actions. Meryl of course noticed the distrust so she took a deep steadying breath, more out of sanity and unwillingness to admit she owed him.

"You saved my life, at least let me return you the favor." She stated, carefully tugging on his sleeve, her sincere eyes locked with his.

The crackling of the fire filled the tense silence of their stare-down but he eventually yielded and sighed, casting his gaze aside with grudging defeat. There was something very boyish about his response. He looked like a pouting boy who looked annoyed from being defeated in a fight and it was quite endearing. Meryl's eyes flickered in amusement. She began to help him take off his leather strap that draped across his torso, removing his bow and arrows in the process. With his ever watching and distrusting eyes he followed her movements, watching as she carefully placed all the weapons on the night stand or beside it depending on the size. Connor appeared to prefer having his tomahawk sitting on the night table within reach in case of an emergency. She pulled on his sleeve while he tried to pull out his right arm. He hissed, his face grimacing from the pain in his right arm. Finally, she took note of a tear in his shirt further up on his upper right arm. It was stained dark against the reddish-orange glow of the fire. She managed to pull off the left sleeve after a few hisses escaped from his lips. She pulled the coat around him, looping behind his back and tried to pull it off of his right arm but it was hindered by his vambrace. He quickly loosened it, undoing some strings and other stuff, away from her sight and slipped it off. Meryl pulled the sleeve off of his right arm and held onto the coat. It was surprisingly heavy and coarse to the touch, it was at least 10 pounds and if it got wet it would add another few pounds. She walked over to a chair and draped it over it. The material made her think of a mix of hemp and linen which kept its shape nicely which prevented wearing and tearing from happening. If she compared the material of Alexander Leighton's coat to his, Alexander's coat would not last one bit due to its velvety and maybe silken material.

Now Connor was clad in his white loose shirt with the interesting horizontal stitching lining along the buttons. It was a tight fit around his torso, accentuating his muscular shoulders, chest and his flat stomach but it was wide and loose around the sleeves. She saw a spray of blood spatter that stained the front of his shirt. She quickly moved her eyes from it, her thoughts coming up with possible causes of these blood stains. Her eyes glanced over to the tomahawk and she did see some dark color coating the blade. Maybe these spatters on his shirt were his, but judging from the spraying pattern it seemed like it was someone else's.

Meryl turned away to stop the pursuit of her thoughts and found a ceramic bowl and a jug. She went over to the table, poured some water in it, grabbed a nearby white cloth and dipped it inside. Unfortunately, it was not hot water, but it would clean up his face and some of his wounds. She came over to his side, sat down beside him, placing the bowl on the floor. He appeared to have tensed up, judging from how he looked and responded to her closeness.

"What are you doing?" he questioned with distrust, looking at her with his defenses up.

"Cleaning up your face and wounds."

"There is no need for it."

"Psh, Connor." She waved her hand at him dismissively. "Of course, you do. You look like you went through hell."

She held the damp cloth in her hand and was about to touch his face with it when he abruptly and roughly snatched her hand. The sudden impact of his hand made her gasp, she looked at her hand which was enclosed by his big rough hand. Once again, he could so easily break her hand and fingers if he wanted to with just a squeeze. She raised her eyes to meet his.

His chestnut eyes unwaveringly bore through hers, the reddish glow flickering in his eyes coupled by the darkness of the room surrounding them. The fire and darkness highlighted his facial features in a way that it made him more intimidating and menacing than in broad day light. Meryl's heart sank with trepidation, feeling the physical strength he had over her. The air in the room felt still and cool, the fire crackled behind them.

"What are you doing?"

It was not a question that demanded a simple answer. _He was directly asking her what she was doing in here, in this room and what were her motives behind her actions_. Meryl froze, startled by the nature of the question. It made her question her own motives as well, how did she end up in his room? She invaded his personal space by being in his room, sitting on his bed next to him and trying to care for his wounds…

She realized that her actions were too invasive and rather bold for a stranger, especially around unpredictable Connor. But it also made her realize that Connor still did not trust her. What they shared in her room a week ago, was it not a form of reconciliation?

Suddenly she chuckled, dismissing his question and ignoring how hurt she felt by his question.

"I am just paying a debt I owe you." She stated straightforwardly, returning a detached expression in his direction. "And we better have a look at the wound on your arm before it gets an infection."

"Why do you care?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe because I am human, that is all." She rebuked cuttingly which Connor responded with a huff.

"I am accustomed to tending to my own wounds."

"I see that." She remarked but deep inside she felt sorry for him "But there is nothing wrong with relying on others."

It looked like he was glaring at her now, denying her and her words. The one thing that Meryl still resonates with her from her Marine Corps days is the unshakable bond of brotherhood between the Marines. Brotherhood was genderless to her, it simply meant an unbreakable bond that was created in boot camp and the battle field. It was a bond between forged siblings that could not be shattered. They entered the Marine Corps as acquaintances and left as blood brothers. No matter how many times she thought she was alone, her Marine buddies were always there, always backing her. A lone wolf can function in the short term, but in the long run there is strength in many.

"If there is one thing that I have learned in my Marine days, I mean, soldier days," Meryl explained in a serious tone, her eyes looking at him with determination. "That there is greater strength in numbers."

The intensity in his eyes gradually began to dissolve. He looked at her, his breathing calming down.

"I have lost many soldier friends across my different units, because they allowed their pride to blind them."

She grabbed his hand, coaxing it off of hers and allowed her hand with the cloth to touch his face. Meryl gently rubbed the cloth across his face, passing from his right cheeks to his forehead wiping away the dirt, blood and sweat. She wiped carefully the gash on his left brow and the bruise on his left cheek. He watched her intently, his eyes searing her face. She felt his gaze but kept her eyes focused on the task at hand.

There was something intimate and comforting about them being alone in his room with the fire crackling in the background, sitting next to each other like that. She felt at peace. Meryl felt an indescribable feeling of intimacy. In the comforting silence, she spoke up.

"What happened to you?" she inquired her voice was gentle and she looked at him briefly before dipping the cloth in the bowl and wiping away the grime from his gash.

His intense stare was still fixed on her. She stopped in her actions to look him straight in the eyes, there it was again, distrust.

"What's with the distrust in your eyes?" she directly pointed out and she sighed with aggravation "Jeez, I am not here to kill you or anybody. And if I did want to kill you, I would have had ample time to do it in the hallway."

"I don't understand why you are tending to my wounds." He stated straightforwardly which Meryl responded with a chortle.

"Hah! I can say the same thing about you." She remarked. "One moment you are actually pleasant then next you are distant and hostile. Am I that untrustworthy?"

His breathing got heavier from the annoyance he felt towards her and his glare was tenfold. Either he was ready to stab her face or just implode with anger. Meryl sighed again, got up and looked around the room. She found a dark unopened bottle of liquor sitting on his bookshelf. She went over, uncorked it, sniffed it and grimaced at its potency. She rinsed the cloth in the basin again, took the cloth to the mouth of the bottle and soaked it. Meryl walked to his side, sat down and dabbed the cloth to his gash which he hissed at angrily through gritted teeth. His body jerked and she grasped his right arm to steady him.

"Let me check your right arm."

He glared at her more, unwilling to comply. He was so close to growling at her. He acted partly like a stubborn child but also like a wounded animal. She rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Connor please, your stubbornness will be the cause of your death. Do you I have to stun you?"

There was an angry twitch in his lip and he became tight lipped. With an exasperated sigh, he turned his head away from her in irritation and he outstretched his right arm in defiance. Meryl bit her lip to stop herself from chuckling. Carefully she grabbed the sleeve of his right arm and tried to roll it up, but the sleeve got stuck around his wide biceps.

"You're going to have to take your arm out of your shirt."

He snapped his attention at her, looking fed up with her shit. His body movements were exasperated and prompt. With an abrupt upwards tug with his hand from the middle of his shirt, he pulled his shirt out of his pants so that he could pull his right bare arm out of the sleeve.

Meryl swallowed uncomfortably, realizing that it was the first time she saw his exposed skin, even though his white shirt covered a huge part of his left side. He had a beautiful tan and smooth complexion on his torso which was occasionally tattered with scars on his well-defined arm, abs and pecks. Those were battle scars. Meryl's heart squeezed with empathy at the unpleasant nature of the scars but at the same time her heart rate shot through the roof from seeing more of his skin. She felt her body and face heating up. He turned his body so that she had the full sight of his upper right arm.

She saw the injury, her face contorted in pain. His skin was split open, revealing a valley of flesh, muscle and blood. Luckily no bone was visible. It looked like he dodged (actually failed to dodge) a soaring projectile.

"A bullet grazed you, didn't it?" she speculated with annoyance. "Let me guess you had a little brawl with the red coats, hmm?"

He was too sullen to respond at her comment. She went to get a clean cloth and wet it to dab the wound. He hissed and his body jerked at every dab she did. Then she grabbed the cloth doused with the alcohol then pressed it against it. His body jerked strongly, a growl escaped through his locked his jaw and he looked away, hiding the pain in his eyes. She doused more alcohol over the cloth and continued dabbing it. His body twitched less and less until his body had gotten used to the burning. She was finished now. She gathered the cloths and bowl and brought it over to the table.

She needed some bandage to dress his wound. Then she remembered she had some on her stomach. She pulled out her shirt from her pants and begun to loosen the bandage.

"What are you doing?" he interrogated directly, his voice clear and strong but with an underlying uneasiness to his tone, he felt uncomfortable.

"Giving you some bandage."

He paused caught in-between being stunned and uneasy. His eyebrows were mildly raised and he scanned her face, her hands grasping her shirt and her stomach, then he averted his eyes to clear his throat to look away.

"Do you… not need it for yourself?"

When she finished removing the bandage from her stomach, she tucked her shirt back into her pants, she turned around and walked towards his bed. She tore off a chunk from the bandage and began to dress his arm injury.

"Don't worry. Ingrid made sure I had enough." She chuckled, thinking about Ingrid's rather protective behavior towards her.

The fire crackled peacefully against the silence of the room as Meryl sat on the bed dressing the wound on Connor's shoulder. There it was again that sense of intimacy between them. Meryl kept her eyes focused on bandaging him, while Connor had placed his left elbow on his left lap and resting his chin in his left hand, looking away mildly annoyed. She could tell that it was a humiliating for him to be taken care of, her discovering him semi-collapsed in the hallway and her tending to his wounds – yup it must have wounded his pride. He had a lot of pride and he didn't want to show any weakness, he was a man all right, _a rather stupid one_.

But he was quite endearing. He had these moments where his boyish face would show up whenever he was being embarrassed or humiliated and it was oh-so tempting to coax more of that out of him. She will eventually, she promised herself that, once their relationship is more solid and stable. He was still quite on the fence with her. It appeared that at every turn he was expecting her to ambush him. This guy was not an ordinary man, well he was a Native American from the 18th century, so he was not ordinary from her 21st century perspective, but being in a state of constant vigilance seemed a bit overkill. Okay, yes she was freaky herself because she was different from the ordinary woman, but still she was trustworthy, she was friendly – why the lack of trust? Then a thought came to her, she lowered her eyes, finished with dressing Connor's wound.

"Why did you…" she began in a quiet voice with hesitancy. "rescue me?"

The atmosphere that hung over them (Meryl knew it was sexual tension, at least from her side but from his it could have been awkwardness) changed its substance a little. Connor withdrew his right arm and popped it back into his shirt, covering now his body from her sight. He still remained seated on his bed, hunched over, placing his elbows on his parted knees and he took a deep breath. He didn't look at her.

"They wanted me to."

"They?"

"Ingrid, Marie, Hanna and Achilles."

The names he listed struck Meryl that she paused to take a breath, her thoughts swirling in her head.

"Even Achilles?" her words slipped out of her mouth with a quiet voice.

Connor just nodded. Then she raised her eyes to look at him.

"What about you?" the words slipped out of her mouth.

"What do you mean?" his voice was abrupt as he turned his head slightly so that he could look over his shoulder to eye her, the reddish glow from the fire flickering in his chestnut brown eyes.

There again was his defense mixed with distrust. It struck her, harder than she anticipated. His guard was still up, and she immediately backtracked realizing how stupid and futile it was to talk to him about this.

"Actually, never mind." She got up and walked over to the fire place, stoking the fire some more and putting more logs into it.

This was stupid, she was fucking stupid. What kind of demented question was that _"What about you?"_? Hah! Like fuck he would say something remotely nice. She could smell from a mile away how he not only didn't trust her, he probably also didn't like her! Achilles was doing a good job at being friendly, but Connor… ! He was even flaunting how much she was an outsider, how she could not be trusted or even liked and with that hulking body of his, he could potential break her like a tooth pick if push comes to shove.

"Your scars."

"Huh?" she snapped her attention to Connor.

He had turned his body to sit at the bottom end of the bed so that now he had one leg folded under him while the other was planted on the floor.

"Your scars." He motioned to her stomach, keeping his aloof expression, at least he wasn't frowning at her.

"Yes, what about them?"

"Where… did you get them?" he asked momentarily hesitating whether he should pursue the inquiry.

In an instant, she had flashbacks of the battlefield, the hectic shouts of command, the deafening whistles screeching of missiles, the deafening explosions, followed by the vibrations in the ground, automatic rifles shooting and… soul-tearing screams of agony.

"Battlefield..." The words trickled out of her mouth in one breath, as she was staring down at the ground affectedly, the memory of the battlefield and the faces of her fallen comrades swimming in front of her eyes.

"Why…?" Connor's distinct voice broke through the haze of memories.

She understood what he meant. It wasn't a question of how she got those scars but more about why she was on the battlefield. Meryl closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying to recollect her thoughts and regain control of herself.

"It was an impulsive decision, but I have no regrets" she answered, looking straight at Connor with an ironic smile on her face "It actually brought out the best of me. If I had taken a different path… my life would have… ended sooner."

She cleared her throat, turning her whole body and attention back to the fire, realizing what she had admitted in the open for the first time and to an actual person (although that person currently gravitated between the friend or foe camp). Then a flash of anger seized her caused by the futility of her words. Of course, he didn't believe her, nobody believed her! Who would? A 21st century woman and a Marine was absolutely inconceivable! Women in the 18th century were viewed as the dainty little damsels that needed to be provided for, coddled, put on a pedestal and protected. Yet of course the whole idea of man protecting the woman thing is very romantic, even for Meryl's standards, but Meryl as a woman was an anomaly _especially in the fucking 18__th__ century_! She had to do something, even if it was reveal some truth just to reassure herself and Connor that she was a friend. She took a deep breath and turned around with resolution in her stance and expression.

"I know that I may come across as very suspicious and distrusting and I don't blame you." She admitted without hesitance in her tone and behavior, keeping firm eye contact with Connor from the fire place. "I am _different_ from the common woman I acknowledge that, but please… let my actions and scars speak to you as a soldier, as a warrior: I am not your foe, _I am your ally_."

She paused right afterwards, keeping unwavering eye contact with him, exposing the blunt truth, she was not lying, she was not an enemy.

The crackling of the fire filled the silence as they both kept eye contact with each other. The angle of his face and the way the reddish flickering hue of the fire bathed Connor's tanned face, darkened the area around his deep set eyes turning his grave eyes ever more piercing and invasive than normally. His chestnut eyes looked at her, void of any semblance of warmth or any emotions, but there was an understated coolness and calmness about him.

Feeling a little intimidated by his rather piercing gaze, she was the first to break eye contact and returned her attention to the fire. He won this round. She had to get her hammering heart under control again.

"So, are you gonna tell me how you got injured like that?" She asked after a pause resuming her usual calm and comfortable expression and voice. "You owe me that for helping you out."

Then somehow Connor's demeanor changed, it was subtle but for Meryl it was quite noticeable. The muscles in his body relaxed a little, not fully as his instincts probably warned him not to get too comfortable around her. He placed both his feet on the ground and placed both his hands at his side, gripping gently at the edge of the bed. He momentarily looked aside either recalling the event or fabricating it or changing it around. Meryl will found out what Connor's little errands are – she will keep her eyes peeled and ears sharp for any hints and clues. She was not blind or stupid, they were withholding information from her. The only logical explanation is that he must be doing some mercenary work. He appeared to come back with more blood spatter and minor injuries than supplies or the spoils of the hunt. He had everything that mercs possessed, the weapons, the prowling and his intimidating demeanor. She met quite a few "colorful" mercs on the battlefield, but Connor would be considered a unique kind of merc, maybe even have his own category.

"I encountered some red coats," Connor spoke up.

"Oh, really?"

"They were harassing some of the townspeople in Boston."

"For what?"

Connor looked at her, she saw a flicker of disgust in his eyes which made him avert his eyes as the sentiment was not directed at her.

"Three redcoats cornered a woman in the backway, trying to force themselves on her."

"Those scumbags." Hissed Meryl, repulsed by their behavior while also feeling a strong sense of empathy towards the woman, it was a situation that was not unfamiliar to her. "I hope you beat the living shit out of them."

For just a brief moment a self-satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, confirming it.

"_Yes! Sweet vengeance!_" she cheered with a fist pump, but she quickly realized how immature and inappropriate it was so she cleared her throat returning to her calm composure. "You didn't kill them, right?"

He merely returned a neutral expression, which probably meant that he did kill them.

"So, you did kill them then?" she sighed with irritation

"Not all of them." Connor corrected quickly in such a matter-factly tone that it disturbed Meryl.

She was not going to respond to this, because it would inevitably break out into an argument and she had the feeling that Connor sensed her disgust or unease about what he did.

"If I had not responded accordingly, I would not be sitting in my room." He replied so succinctly with his chestnut eyes boring into hers by the gravity of his words.

The tension rose again in the room, but a certain heaviness hung in the air created by the words he had uttered. Death. It never was a pleasant matter to talk about. Meryl scratched the back of her head, casting her eyes to the oak floor, feeling a little bit guilty that he had picked up her uneasiness.

"Yeah, that's true, sorry about that" she uttered quietly with an uncomfortable chuckle.

Now the atmosphere was awkward between them and it had gone quiet too, again. There was this insurmountable wall between them, created by the secrets they harbored from each other: her true story and his. Meryl knew if that barrier crumbled down, not only would their conversations flow better, but it would also maybe (depends on both parties) deepen their trust in each other and avoid that damn awkwardness. Both were dancing on the edge of a knife, trying their hardest not to fall off by not revealing much about each other. She knew Connor probably understood this as well.

Meryl sighed, gathering the attention of Connor who also had stared off absentmindedly somewhere. It looked like the exhaustion was kicking in.

"I hope you realize that the distrust is reciprocal."

"Yes, I am aware."

Meryl turned her full attention to him, even taking a few steps in his direction so that she stood right in front of him, looking down at him. Her figure cast a shadow on him, darkening his brown hair and chest nut eyes to almost a black.

"And you can establish that until there is a certain level of trust created, we can - so to speak - stop dancing around the flames."

She kept a deliberate and tense eye contact with him, to express the point that she made. Meryl cleared her throat, she too felt the exhaustion kicking in.

"Anyway, you better get some sleep and I will see you tomorrow or something." She supplied casually, putting the distance between them again.

She backed away from him and made her way to his door. Turning her back on him, whether it was physically or metaphorically, was probably the most daring thing she had ever done to somebody she did not fully trust. In that split he could throw his tomahawk at her, but when she had reached the door knob and felt nothing embedded on her head or back she was relieved. He also did not stop her, which again was a relief.

Despite herself she stopped in her movements, some strange feelings surged within her and she couldn't deny them.

"Connor," she began then turned her attention to him with her very grave eyes "Take care of yourself..."

As she said this she left his room quietly without even looking at him, realizing how her voice had become shaky towards the end.

She was thrilled to help him out (with a part of her drooling at the sight of his bare skin) but as time passed that sentiment died the longer she remained with him. He was very distant towards her and would not allow her to get any closer to him both physically and metaphorically. Feeling and seeing that also discouraged her from prying more. Overall, it was just excruciatingly awkward time spent with him and she just wanted to get out of his space even though it was pleasant and fun.

She arrived back into her room, finding Kazuma lifting his head with his ears perked and looking at her inquisitively. With a smile she went over to him, scooped him into her arms and brought him with her to bed.

As she lay in bed with Kazuma nestled beside her with the fire place flickering and crackling gently in the background, her thoughts swirled with memories of her Marine days and memories of her friends at home. The heaviness of homesick settled on her, but she pushed those thoughts away quickly and closed her eyes to welcome her comforting friend, sleep.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Hey hey heeeey, fellow readers XD Sorry for the delay. I know I was supposed to post two chapters a month (August was so damn hectic) but now since classes have started again I have to unfortunately shift priorities. I will have to stick to a "once a month update" regimen from now onwards . Sorry about that :(**

**But thank you all for sticking around, it's been already a year since I started this fanfic... Thank you all for the support and please keep 'em coming XD**

**Happy reading and see you guys soon XD Have a wonderful weekend XD**

**PS: If I am not super busy I might upload another chapter, but otherwise the once-a-month update should be my monthly quota ;) **

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**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**~ Leverage ~**

Meryl woke up to somebody licking her face. She groaned when the smelly batting breath poisoned the air around her. A yap followed by a whimper, coaxed her out of her sleep. She found Kazuma's black fluffy face hovering over hers with his eager and curious blue eyes, begging for her attention.

"Okay, I am up." She groaned tiredly and sat up, placing him on the floor before her.

She changed into her usual clothes made of hide, slipped on her boots and threw on her poncho. She laced her still injured arm into a sling and went in front of her vanity dresser. The bruises on her face still had some dark noticeable epicenters. Her other injuries on her face had scabbed over. She still looked like a domestic violence victim, but at least she felt better and less lethargic.

Meryl walked to her bedroom door with Kazuma trotting at her heels. She decided to take him into her arms and leave her room. Once she arrived in the kitchen, she found Marie and Hanna doing their daily routine, preparing the meals for the day.

"'Morning, hun, y'all already up?"

"Well, yeah, can't really rest with this guy breathing down my face."

She placed Kazuma on the floor and he immediately bee-lined for his food bowl somewhere in the corner. With eagerness he loudly licked, slurped and munched away at the left-over roast from last night while switching between his water bowl and food bowl. Hanna's eyes immediately followed Kazuma's every move with an expression of awe and adoration.

"Did you sleep well?" asked Marie and Meryl nodded, taking a seat at the bench.

Marie brought her some tea which she happily sipped from and sighed with content.

"Is Connor up yet?" Meryl asked which earned her a curious look from Marie.

"Oh? He has returned?"

"Well, yeah, do you want him not to?"

Marie chuckled.

"Was he all right?" she inquired, with again that knowing glimmer in her eyes which made Meryl roll her eyes.

"In Connor's fashion, he is fine, _Marie_." Meryl supplied with disinterest, sipping more on her tea, ignoring Marie's mischievous grin.

Connor was exhausted from the incident that he intercepted God knows when. He did get a beating after all which made Meryl chuckle internally. There were moments, very brief ones actually, where being with him in one room was actually pleasant, but the rest was quite _meh_. She noticed with disappointment and also with discomfort that being in his proximity last night was not beneficial at all, there was no progress in their relationship, at least that is what she felt. In addition, by tending to his wounds she thought she would get more information about him and his secretive work, but no luck. No revelations, no information, nothing. He remained aloof and it frustrated her to no end. Which brings the most persistent question back to the foreground: did they reconcile at all?

"Did he come back…_injured?_" Marie lowered her voice purposefully, even mouthed the last word as to not rouse the attention of Hanna and potentially Ingrid's.

Meryl nodded with annoyance, then she whispered back.

"I tended to his injuries."

Marie nodded with an appreciative and grateful smile. She returned to the counter near the stove to bring a few breakfast condiments over to the table. She brought a pot of porridge, some jam, bread, butter, some dried meat and some left-over food from last night's dinner. Meryl whole heartedly dug in.

The sun rose warming up the still snow covered landscape surrounding the Davenport Homestead. The sky was clear and blue, but it was still quite cold since it was just the beginning of January. There was a peaceful wind blowing over the landscape with the snow twinkling against the growing sun. The untamable dark ocean continuously crashed against the cliff and rock faces, leaving behind a comforting background noise whenever Meryl strolled around the property or for the outhouse. When Meryl happened to be outside, enjoying the view she heard a call from Ingrid from the back door to the kitchen.

"Schätzchen, Master Davenport wishes to speak to you. He is in his study."

"Okay." Meryl responded and returned back inside.

She took off her poncho, knocked off the snow and wiped the wetness from her boots on the rag that was laid out for the occasion. Meryl made her way through the dining room, crossed the lobby and walked into Achilles' study where he sat on the upholstered seat facing the fire place.

"Good morning, Miss Briar, how are we doing today?" he immediately greeted without even looking at her as he had been gazing in the fire while he rested his sore leg on the ottoman.

"Great, I guess." She responded with some hesitance which he picked up with a chuckle.

"The uncertainty or should I say the discomfort in your tone tells me otherwise."

Meryl scratched the back of her arm, looking sideways, feeling a little self-conscious in his presence because last time she had acted like a douche around him.

"I am fine, Achilles." She reasserted her tone. "My arm is recovering well, so is my energy - I still look battered though."

Achilles chuckled and turned his head sideways so that she could see his profile. He outstretched his hand, indicated to a seat on the opposite of the ottoman. She complied and sat down on the seat, keeping her eyes lowered. He intentionally left a pause to allow the awkwardness to dissipate. He cleared his throat and looked at her with unwavering eyes.

"So, you are a Marine."

Meryl's heart sank and her body became rigid.

_Connor! That son of a bitch! He told him!_

Her face went blank and the color washed out of her face. Achilles kept a calm eye on her, patiently waiting and not even trying to coerce an answer from her unlike "Mister hot head" who would have wringed her neck for an answer. In his dark eyes that glimmered against the flames, there was a knowing look in his eyes, as if he had trapped her.

"I suppose, you are not from the Royal British Marine?"

Meryl tilted her head in confusion.

_What? Was he talking about the 21__st__ century Marine or something else? Marines existed in the 18__th__ century?!_

Achilles read her reaction.

"It is the under the branch of the British royal navy, they are naval infantries who specialize in landings, except that…" Achilles paused intentionally; his eyes and demeanor had taken a grave turn. "This branch is relatively novel to the Royal Navy due the growing tension with the North American colonies."

He took his foot off the ottoman and placed his cane in front of him, folding his hands over the handle and keeping stark eye contact with her.

"My dear, I can tolerate you deceiving and making a fool of Connor, but I draw the line with me." He declared straightforwardly with gravity, not a shred of warmth in his countenance. "I am perplexed as to why you are stubbornly withholding your identity and your life from us."

"I can say the same thing about you and Connor in particular." She replied with an equal "no bullshit" face. "Who would have somebody like Connor armed to the teeth prowling the area? Connor's injuries confirmed the doubts I had on the nature of his little escapades. He is a mercenary and you're his handler or master, right?"

Achilles did not waver or show any reaction to her words. She knew he was crafty, he specialized in this and had honed his skills in deception, so why did she hope that he would crack and expose anything? He was definitely Connor's master and she was certain it was along the lines of mercenary work.

A tense silence almost crushed the room.

This situation could unleash an explosion of complications that could not only severely cripple her chances of being trusted or seen as an ally, but kill her. She could not escape and also she had no place to go. She did not have a choice, should she tell him?

"Achilles… can I trust you?" she asked him in the most quiet voice that she has ever offered to anyone.

She heard Achilles give a long sigh after a moment.

"Miss Briar, you underestimate me. I have brought you into my manor, allowed you to mingle with the domestics, do chores, attend parties with very little to no supervision. We tended to your well-being and injuries and allowed you to stay for a few weeks, if this is not a sign of trust then I don't know what is."

Meryl's heart squeezed and she looked up, meeting his now calming dark eyes. It stunned her, his words and the sudden change in his demeanor surprised her.

"But Connor…"

"As long as he obeys my orders there is nothing to worry about, Miss Briar."

Meryl gazed into the flames, a rush of thoughts and nervousness seized her body. She was understandably afraid.

"So you want me to be completely honest?"

"Yes."

"To what degree?"

"To assess whether you are a threat to us or not, my dear."

Meryl looked at him with annoyance.

"I will expect the same thing from you, Achilles."

"You have my word, Miss Briar."

Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably.

"I have one condition though."

"Let's hear it."

Meryl raised her eyes to meet his.

"Where is Connor?"

"I have sent him on an errand."

Meryl's brow's furrowed with a mix of astonishment and annoyance. Even if Connor's arm had been hanging by just a piece of flesh, _he would still be doing his fucking errands_. She sighed, accepting the situation.

"He is beyond eavesdropping range, right?"

Achilles nodded firmly. Meryl looked at him carefully. Her heart was hammering; she felt the sweat build at her forehead and her hands turning balmy. This was a gigantic risk that could backfire big time.

"This is has to be strictly kept between us, not Connor, or the domestics or anybody else should know this."

"But Miss Briar-

-Achilles, please!" she hushed him urgently, showing her genuine concern and sincerity. "It is for their own good, I will tell them eventually, but for now I beg you, please keep it to yourself."

She could tell that Achilles was getting more and more piqued by curiosity and interest as his body was leaning in closer into the conversation.

"Miss Briar, I can't make this promise until I know the nature of your secret."

Meryl softly chuckled with expectation.

"I know, but I am sure once you hear this, you will change your mind quickly."

She paused to take a few deep breaths, her eyes focused on the oak floor. The nerves were getting to her, her adrenaline was on full throttle ready to fight or flight. Yet somehow Achilles sat there patiently and quietly without pressuring her. She released another breath, sat up straight and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I warn you. I will be direct, no sugar coating but brutal honesty." She declared with unwavering commitment although her bottom lip trembled mildly due to the nerves. "I am from the 21st century, the year of 2014. I was born February 14th 1986 in New Jersey but lived most of my life in New York. I have a mother who is a drug addict and my father ran off when I was a kid. At the age of 18 after I graduated from School I joined the United States Marine Corps and fought wars in the Middle East, the former Persian Empire. After I was honorably discharged I found work as a martial artist studying Chinese martial arts for several years. Then one day when my school friends organized a reunion in Mohawk valley, I found Connor snooping around my friend's property. Somehow he had created a crack in time between the 18th century and 21st century. I was able to see him but he wasn't able to see me. He had a weird electric current around his body that distorted anything he came in contact with during my time period. The next day I decided to follow him and fell in a river and was somehow transported back in time to the 18th century."

A deafening silence followed.

This was not good.

The ticking of the grandfather clock and the crackling of the flames filled the on-going silence. Meryl's gaze had sunken to the ground after she told her tail, afraid what she might meet in Achilles' eyes. Realizing that she might have come across as really loopy, she quickly cleared her throat.

"I know this sounds insane and not believable, I would not believe it myself, but let my knife convince you." She reiterated, strengthening her voice. "You said yourself that you and your contacts have never come across this weapon and its material before. The material of that knife is forged out of the strongest metals of the 21st century. It will take another several hundreds of years for humanity to discover that material."

Achilles looked at her with genuine surprise in his features especially noted by his wide eyes and his mouth being slightly parted. She even noticed a sheen of sweat at his temple. He was literally stunned into silence and he tried to make it less obvious, but it appeared the wheels in him were turning, making sense of things that she had said or done.

She didn't know how long they sat there in silence, but it tormented her endlessly. She preferred an outright rebuttal so that she knew the person's reaction, but Achilles was deathly silent, partly contemplating deeply while also looking bewildered, astonished and surprised.

"Miss Briar, I hope you are not jesting." He said, his voice raspier than usual, he took a sip from his tea, recovering from his stunned state and allowing reason to govern his mind and senses once again.

Meryl exasperatingly sighed.

"Do you seriously believe I would make this all up as a joke? Why would I waste energy to deceive you? I may be crazy in some aspects but not to that degree." She argued. "Knowing that I would receive a beating from both you and Connor warrants me to be honest with you."

Achilles released a breath that he had held for a while, he looked in the flames briefly then looked back at her.

"Miss Briar, the peculiarity of your story makes it harder for me to trust your words, I hope you understand this."

"Yes, Achilles I know that all of this sounds like utter bull, uhm, nonsense, but I need you to trust me on this and keep this to yourself."

"Why should I, Miss Briar? What good would it do to Connor or anybody else for that matter?"

Meryl thought she misheard him and she gaped at him. Was he fucking with her? Or was he just testing her? It seemed like a pretty damn straight forward answer that probably anybody with a brain could answer. Meryl stood up, her breath coming across heavy and deliberate.

"I know the history of this _soon-to-be _country, Achilles." She declared with in earnest, "Do you know what people would do with this valuable information? I can't believe I am saying this - if this falls into the wrong hands it could permanently alter history, for the worse."

A heavy atmosphere accumulated upon them as they kept eye contact with each other. Yet Achilles' expression gradual changed to that of denial and then amusement.

"What information could you possibly have that could alter history, Miss Briar?"

"This country will unite its colonies to declare its independence from the British and fight a bloody revolutionary war against them for under 10 years, this will be spear headed by George Washington." She stated straightforwardly. "The first physical confrontation with the British will be at Lexington and Concord in the Spring of 1775 followed by the Battle of Bunker Hill in Boston."

Meryl surprised herself knowing these facts although she swore she sucked at history, but it appears her brain did remember these things.

Achilles who looked momentarily amused, saw the seriousness in her countenance and in her words, causing him to reevaluate his behavior and thoughts.

"Is this your only proof, Miss Briar? Your words?"

Meryl observed him momentarily, keeping calm.

"I know you have eyes and ears everywhere Achilles and I am fairly certain that you understand the tensions brewing in these colonies: They will fight their oppressors soon enough. I just happen to know when and where."

He gave a chuckle that appeared to dismiss her words.

"You can rest assured that your outlandish prediction and your baffling secret is safe with me, my dear. To entrust Connor or the domestics with this information for that matter would be ill advised if not reckless."

Meryl huffed at him with the insults that he had hurled at her. However, Achilles' demeanor changed once again but back to his habitual calmness.

"Admittedly, your secret was enlightening, it confirmed many suspicions I had of you: that you are from a foreign and maybe advanced place… But understand this, Miss Briar." His calmness was replaced by a menacing allure, he grabbed his cane, unscrewed the handle unsheathing a narrow sword while keeping eye contact with her. "Let this be a warning, I am no ordinary man, I made my living on squeezing out information from my enemies regardless of their story or their sexes. Fool me once and your life is forfeit."

Meryl's heart lurched with fear but she mustered a confident smile, to defy his threat.

"And you, do not underestimate me as well, Achilles." The cockiness graced her features almost giving her an insane look in her eyes. "I know how to kill with my _bare hands_."

They glared at each other for a moment until Meryl broke the silence.

"I told you my part, what about yours."

"What do you need to know, Miss Briar?"

"Who you are, what you do, what is Connor's role in all this?"

"We are a mercenary organization; I am its head in the North American colonies. We target enemies that pose a threat to freedom and justice."

"And Connor basically does your grunt work for you?"

Achilles nodded.

"Who are your targets?"

"That is confidential, my dear."

"What?! Are you kidding me?!" she snapped at him.

"Out of precaution I cannot reveal the targets, Miss Briar."

"_But I told you everything about me!_"

"Yes, you did, Miss Briar, which I am very grateful for, but at the same time Connor was not invited into this conversation – therefore it seems fair that I can omit certain details."

"_Are you fucking kidding me_!?" Meryl roared now. "You could be spouting _utter bullshit_ now and I would not be able to tell if it is truth or lies!"

"Exactly, Miss Briar and I would like to keep it that way."

"Son of a bitch!" she growled at him.

Achilles merely leaned back into his seat with a satisfied yet triumphant expression on his face.

"Now I have enough leverage to keep you on a leash, Miss Briar."

Meryl clenched her shaking fists tightly, holding back every desire to beat the shit out of him. With her jaw locked in place, she extended her hand.

"Can I have my knife back, please?"

"Connor has it with him," Achilles responded with a confident look in his eyes, he did intentionally give it to Connor before leaving. "He will return it to you once he returns from his "errands"."

Meryl's lip tightened with more tension than she could muster. She turned around to breathe deeply, trying her hardest not to curse him out.

"Can I be excused _now_?" she requested through clenched teeth.

"Yes, you may leave."

Meryl walked out of the study then stormed out into the lobby stomping up the stairs, along the hallway and locking herself into her room for the day.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Heeeeey, here's a new chapter XD September was such a hectic month with class starting and me simply not feeling super inspired =.= I am in such a weird state right now, where School is just bleh and I just want to do something else other than being a student... Yep, weird.**

**Unfortunately, as classes and the workload will start picking up soon I will have to reduce the upload to one chapter a month. I know, I am sorry, but priorities ya know ;) **

**Thank you again so much for the reviews and responses. I hope to continue to make you smile and enjoy the story to the very end.**

**Anyway, I wish you all a wonderful new month and hope to hear from you again. Good luck with classes and work! Keep dem feedbacks coming, it always makes my day XD**

* * *

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**~ Wheels are turning ~**

Two weeks passed. _Yes, two fucking weeks_.

It was already January 15th on a Sunday and 2 PM now to be exact. _Two fucking weeks_ of twiddling thumbs, waiting for Connor to come back with her _beloved knife_. Apparently his little "errand" had drawn him to New York…Yeah, sure it did. Despite how much death she wished upon him, she couldn't do that until her knife was safely returned. He can die after her _precious_ knife was back in her loving arms.

To make matters worse, she had the misfortune to dine with Achilles these past few days. Either he was rubbing her face into how much power he had over her or he just wanted some company. Thankfully, he was a gentleman and very friendly.

Her arm was partially healed and so were her bruises. The bruises have turned to an ugly yellow-green shade, fading gradually as time passed. She didn't need to wear the sling anymore, but she was still careful with making abrupt movements or placing weight on her arm.

But dear God! She had the greatest itch to do some activity! She hadn't properly trained in _weeks_! She had been thinking about doing something along Connor's line of work. Don't they realize how great of an asset she was! She had all the skills necessary to fight off anybody and the best part was that nobody would suspect a woman of ANYTHING!

A gentle knock at her bedroom door woke her up from her thoughts. She got up from the seat in front of her fireplace. Kazuma's black head raised, his ears cocked and he got up to his feet trotting to the door. He had grown a few inches again and gained some weight, but he was still lanky with a prominent snout. His shoulders reached at least a little more than half way up Meryl's shins.

"Yes, come in." Meryl called out and she walked over to the opening door.

There stood Hanna smiling shyly at her and she handed Meryl a letter. There appeared to be some excitement streaming from her presence.

"You have a letter from Master Leighton." She said with a beaming smile.

Meryl's heart skipped a beat as she received the letter. She stared at it.

"Uhm, thanks, Hanna…"

Kazuma gave an enthusiastic bark and darted over to Hanna's side. Meryl took note of it and nodded in approval towards Hanna. In turn Hanna gave an eager curtsy and left with Kazuma tagging along after her. Meryl closed the door and returned to her seat. She stared at the letter once again, her heart pumping wildly with apprehension, especially after realizing that she had forgotten to respond to his letter.

She flipped the letter, feeling the thin, weirdly textured envelop, she undid the wax seal and pulled out the folded piece of paper. She opened it to find once again the beautifully handwritten words of Alexander Leighton adorning the letter. It had taken exactly two weeks for the letter to arrive to its destination.

_Morning of January 5__th_

_My dear Miss Briar,_

_How have you been? I hope you had a wonderful time during the holiday festivities. Mine were rather uneventful yet peaceful, which I admittedly prefer as it was a challenging year. I am still relishing the remaining peacefulness I have left before my business commands my unrelenting attention. _

_Miss Briar, almost a month has passed since we made our acquaintance. My mind remains at unease. I cannot seem to find a cure for my restlessness. Then, I have come to realize that maybe if you could grant me a chance to meet you once more, your lovely countenance could cure me of this maddening restlessness. _

_This restlessness has come at price. Patience, my strongest trait, has been reduced to nothingness. I fear the only cure for this strange malady is to meet you once more. Forgive me for my indiscretions; I have taken the liberty to ask your Master to grant me permission to visit you. He has eagerly accorded me this request and I shall be arriving in the afternoon of January 16__th__ on a Monday..._

Meryl's heart hammered harder and harder every time she re-read the letter until she couldn't take the intensity of her emotions anymore. In no time she found herself making a mad dash down the stairs. She grabbed the railing in the last bit and jumped over it, almost kicking Connor square in the face if he had not thrown his upper body back to dodge her. She landed under the doorway entering the dining area completely ignoring his glare and retort. She dashed towards the kitchen and barged into it causing Marie and Ingrid to yelp with surprise.

"Um Himmels Willen! What happened?"

"Are you all right, hun?"

Meryl panted wildly, her wide panicked eyes staring at them pleadingly. The two women stopped what they were doing to give Meryl their full attention.

"He's coming TOMORROW!" Meryl's voice cracked.

Meryl flailed the letter in the air with a panicked expression.

"Who is, Schätzchen?"

Meryl couldn't find the words to express how she felt. Her wide eyes did most of the talking.

"Hun, just spit it out! Who is coming?"

Then the door from the dining room opened and lumbering in came Connor.

"Hun, if you mean Connor, he is just behind ya." Marie added with a dead pan flick of her head behind Meryl.

Meryl glanced at him very briefly then vividly shook her head.

"_Not him_." She hissed dismissively.

Connor stood behind her with a frown and arms crossed over his chest.

"Who is coming?" he too asked, clearly pretending to care what she might say.

Meryl just wordlessly shoved the letter in Marie's direction which she took and read. By the seconds that she read the words, Marie's face grin widened with amusement until she laughed and passed it to Ingrid.

"Oh that? We knew about it for a while now, hun. He just wants to see ya again." Marie winked at her with a grin.

"You what?!" Meryl repeated, horrified.

"Ach Schatz, this is old news. Master Davenport made arrangements with him since the Christmas Eve party."

"He _what_?!"

She plopped down on the nearest bench because she felt faint. Ingrid readily brought her some tea which Meryl sipped generously from.

"Are you speaking of Mister Leighton?" Connor inquired in his usual voice, his tone unchanged.

His name sent a shockwave of shivers down her spine, making her feel more nauseous. She whimpered, resting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands.

"_I didn't even respond to his letters_."

"That is not an issue, Schatz."

"Of course it is, Ingrid."

"I want nothing to do with this guy."

"Huh, what's that, Hun? I thought you liked him?"

Meryl lowered her hands too early. That treacherous flush of color went to her cheeks which made Marie chuckle. Meryl felt suddenly very self-conscious and aware when she realized that Connor was listening to the conversation.

"But I look like I was beaten up…"

"Hun, some powder, scented oils and a dress can fix that."

"And a good bath too." Added Ingrid

"_But I don't wanna dress up_." Meryl whimpered again, she really didn't want to do this.

"Shush, Schatz." Cooed Ingrid and patted Meryl on the shoulder. "We had Connor fetch some water and wood."

Meryl gaped and twitched, looked to the people surrounding her with a dumbfounded expression.

"Why are you people so desperate to play match makers?" Meryl retorted with suspicion, regaining herself and her reason. "Nobody consulted me!"

"You did not show any objection, hun."

"I don't know how to write like him! My bird scratches of a handwriting pales to his fancy and elegant hand writing!"

Marie swooped over to her side, lacing her arm over Meryl's shoulder.

"Come now, hun, just give it a try. What are you going to lose?"

"My insanity and spare time perhaps?" Meryl remarked snidely.

Ingrid muffled her laughter and patted her shoulder with amusement.

Connor had moved to the other end of the kitchen table and sat down on the bench. Marie had taken note of him and fetched him some stew and some bread. She had given him some tea and also some deer jerky. Marie also poured some tea for Meryl and gestured her to sit down. Meryl sat down at the far end of the table so that Connor sat across diagonally from her. She did not want him looking at her, especially right now, when everything was awkward with the Alexander Leighton thing.

_Seriously, what is up with people trying to put her together with Alexander Leighton!_

She sighed to herself. Despite herself her eyes gravitated to Connor. He was devouring the stew and bread like he hadn't eaten in days. Meryl watched him with a mix of awe and curiosity as he scarfed down his now third bowl of stew. With almost an animal ferocity he tore with his teeth a piece of bread and chewed on it eagerly at first but then slowed down. His eyes were fixed on the meal, so fully absorbed in thoughts and focused on the food in front of him that he appeared to have shut out the world around him.

Ingrid and Marie had quickly left the kitchen to begin the preparation for Meryl's bath and other stuff, so only her and Connor were left in the kitchen.

Meryl took a sip from the tea surveying him with a growing playful interest. Judging from how his actions had slowed down, he must have noticed her staring at him or noticed that they were both in the kitchen alone.

"So, Connor. Where did you go this time?"

"New York." he promptly answered as usual without looking at her as he was decidedly more interested in wiping his bowl clean with the bread

"New York, huh… Any luck finding _my family_ yet?" her lips curled with a cockiness and her eyes sharpened with intent which mildly annoyed Connor as he realized what she meant.

"No, I had other more important matters to attend."

"Sure ya did, did it perhaps involve some neck-breaking and skull-cracking?"

His lips tightened and his frowned deepened when he encountered her playful defiance, then she chuckled and waved her hand at him dismissively.

"Oh come on, Connor, lighten up. I am just fooling with you."

She sipped on her tea and sighed. The simmering and bubbling of stew on the stove filled the silence in the kitchen.

"It's great that you are not battered and bruised like the last time." She said with a rather peaceful expression as if all the tension she felt had left after seeing him alive and well, but then she realized what she said and cleared her throat quickly with a dismissive gesture of her hand. "Uhm, you know, for everybody's sake."

Meryl felt him staring at her and she purposefully did not look at him. She kept her attention focused on the cup in front of her, running her fingers down along the smooth ceramic loop of the cup. The tea cup was oddly fascinating to her, God knows why.

Another awkward silence filled the kitchen.

Meryl began to realize a pattern now that whenever these two were together or alone, some awkwardness brewed between them. She wasn't even sure why! If it was deliberate, surely Connor was the cause of it or maybe she was overthinking it. Connor was a guy of few words, for all she knew, it was maybe a pleasant silence for him and maybe he was unsure how to speak to her, not very uncommon thing.

"How is your shoulder?"

"Huh?".

"Your arm…" he indicated, looking at her arm then her face with his calm and collected expression.

She blinked a moment and then realized with an exclamation.

"_My arm!_ Yes, it's doing great! Give me maybe another week before it is fully functioning again, I am trying not to place much weight on it right now."

"Good."

She was surprised. He has these moments, bouts of care or concern or whatever it was towards her. He had returned his attention back to cleaning out his bowls with a piece of bread. His forearms rested on the table's surface, encircling his food as if ready to defend it if somebody tried to take it away from him. There was nothing childish or even unpleasant about that body language (if Ingrid saw that she would smack his head for bad table manners), but it was in fact very revealing. It demonstrated how aware he was of his surroundings, even if that was home…or because Meryl was around.

_But dayum he was pleasant to look at! _

His usual dark hair looked lighter today against the afternoon daylight and his front strands were always tied back leaving the bottom hair near his neck loose. It was the first time she noticed that he had a braided strand on the left side of his face which had some tribal beading attached to it. Was it for stylistic or tribal purposes? Of course she will never know until they have become well acquainted with each other. Bringing that up will sound too creepy.

His attention was still fixed on the last bowl in front of him, his facial expression was relaxed no frowning visible. The creases on his forehead were like lines drawn across his forehead and he was just 17, turning 18 soon… How could an 18 year old look twice his age? Was it common for people back then to age so quickly or actually become so mature so quickly?

But.

_What a beautiful rugged man…_

He promptly turned his attention to her, startling her momentarily. His expression was rested, calm and neutral with no tension visible and his eyes reflected the same. One could take a perfect picture of that exact pose and look in his face. Meryl was so unprepared for this, her heart lurched and she felt the color rising in her cheeks that she abruptly turned her attention away to the stove and stammered.

"Oh look! Th-the stew is boiling over." She chuckled nervously and got up rather clumsily.

She walked over to the stove to stir the stew, thankfully her back was turned in his direction. She bit her lip, holding back from cursing at herself. Her discomfort was so fucking obvious and if he didn't notice it, well I guess the better. Thankfully, the awkwardness was cut short since Ingrid and Marie's footsteps were heard and their chattering grew louder the closer they were to the kitchen door. The door opened and in they came.

"Oh honey, thank you for watching the stew, but you shouldn't be doing this."

"You know, a _thank you_ would've sufficed, Marie." Meryl barked.

"Schatz, let's not get you more dirty than needed."

"How is this dirty?" Meryl stated dismissively.

"Dear Lord, Connor!" Marie exclaimed, interrupting the interaction between the women and focusing on Connor. "Darlin', did you not eat for days?!"

All women looked at Connor and he gave them the usual neutral face.

"I was hungry." He specified succinctly with a shrug.

"Ach, you mean "famished"?" Ingrid removed the dishes from in front of him with an exasperated sigh. "Connor, you must nourish yourself better! That body of yours needs a lot to sustain itself."

Then Hanna entered the kitchen through the backdoor with Kazuma trotting at her heel. Hanna's face instantly lit up even Meryl could hear her heart beats. When Kazuma spotted Connor he gave a heartfelt yap and dashed over to Connor. He kneeled down to pet him, the pup excitedly threw himself against Connor's body. A small smile graced Connor's face, watching the eager pup wag its tail as he passed his rough hands through his short black fur.

"Myriam is requesting your help, Connor." Hanna reported, shyly glancing at Connor.

The smile vanished immediately resuming his neutral expression and he got up.

"Where is she?"

"She is down at the river near her house."

"I will go see her." He declared and made his way to the back door when for some unknown reason Meryl decided to join the party too.

"Can I come along?"

This drew everybody's attention, even Kazuma. Connor paused in his actions and turned to her.

"But Schatz we have to begin preparing you." Called out Ingrid

"And it's freezing out there, hun."

Meryl sighed exasperatingly.

"Come on, ladies! Let me stretch my legs otherwise I will go _insane_. I promise that I will behave and comply to whatever the heck you want! Pretty _pleeeease_?"

Ingrid and Marie exchanged a quick glance with each other and without much convincing they complied.

"You must be back before supper, Schatz."

"Yesss!" Meryl exclaimed with triumph and then looked over to Connor with a nervous smile. "May I come along…_please_?"

Connor's body stiffened a little and he briefly looked to the side, thinking quickly. He returned his amber brown eyes in her direction and nodded. Meryl beamed and speedily grabbed her poncho. She joined his side, fully clothed and ready until a bark drew their attention. Pup Kazuma trotted over, waging his tail and panting with his tongue out. He eagerly looked at them and at the door. Meryl chewed at her lip looking at Kazuma and outside, she was not convinced with taking him out on a prolonged outing. She knelt down, the pup trotted over to her, eagerly enjoying her caresses.

"I am sorry boy, not this time, it's pretty cold out there."

Kazuma's head hung and he whimpered with disappointment. He immediately went to Connor, sitting in front of him, looking at him pleadingly. Connor too knelt down and patted Kazuma's head.

"Another time little wolf. For now stay with Hanna." He instructed Kazuma gently with a flick of his arm in the direction of Hanna.

The pup whined. His ears fell and his head hung as he waddled over to Hanna's arms with disappointment in his features.

Both Meryl and Connor got up and left the kitchen through the back door.

* * *

The landscape was still dusted by snow. An icy layer had formed on the top of the snow, so it made walking a little tricky. Meryl was thinking about how well behaved Kazuma was in Connor's presence.

_Jeez that bias. There goes the potential to use Kazuma as a watch dog to chase Connor away. _

At first Connor walked in front but then fell back noticing how Meryl's pace was slow.

"Why does Kazuma like you that much?" Meryl said with a pout.

Connor shrugged.

"Oh wait, it is the natural connection that the tribes have with nature, right?"

Connor glanced at her and shrugged again.

"Maybe."

They walked along the snow covered path, the crunching of snow below their feet filling the silence. Each of his steps was deliberate and lumbering with his hatchet clanking against his pistol. He always maintained perfect balance not once slipping or stumbling, he knew the terrain by heart. Meryl followed his every moves and footsteps as he navigated through the snow. They were getting closer to Myriam's property as Meryl recognized the brook near her home.

"Have you talked to Achilles yet?" Meryl blatantly asked, deliberately throwing some oil to the fire in her bored state.

Connor who had been in front of her slowed his pace to join her side.

"I did."

"So, what did he say?"

Connor fully stopped, which made Meryl stop too. He approached her so that they were facing each other and he released a deep breath.

"He said we should trust you." He informed her in a neutral tone although his eyes did not reflect his answer; they were considerably sharpened by his stubbornness. "He said there is nothing suspicious about you."

Meryl was amused when she saw the qualm in his eyes. She was elated and relieved that this was finally in the open. Connor couldn't do shit, but obey.

"Well, thank you." She grinned confidently and triumphantly at him.

Apparently her facial expressions was incendiary enough to immediately provoke Connor.

"I do not know what you have said or done to Achilles..." He spoke to her directly with a growing threatening tone. "I _will _find out."

Meryl gave an amused huff, placing her hands on her hips and flicking the tip of her tongue against the corner of her mouth in a playful gesture.

"Sure you will. Now…" her eyes noticed the leather strand around his neck which disappeared behind his shirt. "May I have my knife back?"

Connor's mouth twitched with disapproval.

"I will tell Achilles that you are withholding my knife to spite me." She said in a sing-song voice which annoyed Connor even more.

Connor's jaw tightened with utter displeasure. His self-control was wearing thin and Meryl relished how much that debate was reflecting in his face. He abruptly yanked the leather cord from his neck without breaking eye contact, fully displaying his irritation at her. He pulled the knife from his shirt and handed it to her.

"Ohhh, how nice you kept it warm for me, thank you." She grinned and tied it around her neck and plopped her knife into her shirt.

She rubbed her hand over her shirt over the knife, expressing utter delight.

"Ahhh, my baby is back, I missed you." She cooed to herself, feeling so gloriously happy for the return of her knife.

Connor continued to glare at her and she released a content sigh looking back at him again. The corner of her lips curled into a confident and playful smile, when a devious plan formed in her head. She stepped closer to him, invading his personal space. Their chests almost touched each other. Connor immediately became guarded and suspicious of her intentions, but did not back down.

"You will never find out."

"Do not underestimate me. I can, I will _break_ you." He snarled with clenched teeth which she responded with a defiant chuckle.

"With what, your hands?"

"_With torture_." He said through clenched teeth.

Meryl raised her eyebrows with some surprise then with curiosity. She hummed with interest, spurring that inner flame of hers to annoy the shit out of him.

"Wow, with torture, huh…" she intoned playfully with the glint in her eyes changing to fit her cocky smile "I have some great suggestions. Maybe smack me around a little bit? Punch my face until it's unrecognizable, maybe break my fingers or better batter my legs raw? Or the best part stomp my knees in until you hear them crack? The list could go on, but my favorite one is waterboarding. It is about creating the illusion of drowning your victim as they are tied to a sloping plank with their head at the bottom and dumping a bucket of water over them – it makes them squeal _ .quickly_."

Connor looked at her with a mix of disgust and an angered frown. She saw his chest heaving with every puff while he glared holes through her eyes. She shrugged off his venomous glare with a huff.

"I can survive torture, but the question is would _you_ be able to do it to me?"

She kept her ground returning him a challenging look of defiance. He remained still, his jaw clenched twice as hard, his lips tightly shut although mildly twitching while he kept his glare fixed on her. There was a one-sided "glare-down" between the two but after a while Meryl sighed, realizing how ridiculous it was.

"Either way, I wish you good luck." She supplied with a grin, clearly showing that she was immune to his _menacing_ demeanor. "Let me know if you find anything."

She gave him a casual salute with a wink and backed away a safe arm's length if he decided to lash out. As she moved passed him with her left shoulder almost grazing his upper arm, she suddenly felt his large rough hand grab her upper left arm in a vice grip stalling her movement.

She hissed, attempting to conceal the minor shot of pain through her body since he was grabbing (surely intentionally) her former dislocated and healing arm.

"_You do realize that you are grabbing my injured arm, right?_" she intoned with annoyance, snapping her glaring eyes in his direction.

He returned a grave facial expression the subtle tension in his lips and in-between his two eyebrows betrayed his irritation. He held her silently for what felt like all eternity either making a point that he was determined to hurt her or actually warn her that he could hurt her. Yet, there stood Meryl as defiant and as stubborn as ever, not caving in to his vice-like grip although her body too betrayed the pain in subtle micro expressions in her face. Connor spotted these micro expressions and a very subtle change in his overall demeanor occured.

"Are you debating to tear off my arm, or say something?" she added dryly with a sigh, glaring at his hand on her arm and then turning her body in his direction keeping her disinterested expression on her face "Or kiss me?"

Connor immediately raised his eyebrow in utter bafflement at first, mishearing what she said. Then his mind processed her words, his expression quickly transitioned from bafflement, into disgust then into more aggravation towards her and her motives.

"I beg your pardon?" he rebuked in defense, feeling insulted.

"Well, you are holding my arm and not saying or doing anything to me..."

"…" he glowered at her in deathly silence, disgust and disapproval growing stronger and stronger in his face until he yanked his hand away from her as if she was a contamination and stormed off.

Meryl stared at him agape as he walked away, dumbfounded by his _brutally_ honest reply.

"_Jeez, Connor_." She huffed with her arms crossed over her chest. "That was way overboard, even for your standards."

Connor completely ignored her, marching ahead of her. Meryl caught up with him at his side, his eyes fixated in front of him. Meryl rolled her eyes heavenward and groaned, she was so done with him and his behavior around her.

She seized his arm, yanked him which made him stumble against the snow and to the side. He turns to her looking surprised. In the confusion, she swooped in, fueled by mischief and a forbidden internal urge, planted a kiss at the corner of his lips as she held his chin in place by the palm of her hand.

The world stood still and grew silent.

Conner's eyes were wide and staring at her, his face blank and he forgot to breathe. He was completely caught off guard.

"_Be decisive_, Connor, otherwise the decisions will be made for you." She said and gave one last pleasant squeeze of his smooth chin.

She fully withdrew from him and walked ahead, leaving a dumfounded Connor behind.

"Oh. Hello Miss Briar – uhm, Meryl," greeted Myriam with surprise and smiled towards Meryl's approaching figure.

" 'Morning, is everything okay?" Meryl found Myriam crouched over her frozen bank of a stream just several feet away from her log cabin tugging on something.

"Where is Connor?"

"He got lost on the way." Meryl responded promptly, in such a casual dismissive tone that it made Myriam laugh.

"How?"

"Oh you know, Connor. He has this _deep seated_ love affair with redcoats. I am sure he will be back once he has _satisfied himself_."

Myriam burst into laughter, almost making losing her balance. Meryl joined her side, kneeling down at the bank of the frozen stream to see what Myriam needed help with.

"So, what do you need help with?" inquired Meryl, scrutinizing the rope Myriam was holding.

"A part of my trap is trapped underneath the ice."

"You don't have an axe or a hatchet – oh I get it, you need Connor for his hatchet, right?"

She nodded but then Meryl gripped the leather band from her shirt and pulled out her knife with a grin.

"I finally have my prized knife back, so I can actually be useful this time. Show me where it got stuck."

Myriam indicated further up the bank towards a group of little rocks. They walked just a few paces and Meryl saw a weird wooden contraption had gotten sucked into the now frozen stream.

"It is really deep in there." Meryl touched the frozen surface, this stream was at least knee deep. "How the hell did it freeze up? I think the bottom layer is moving though."

"This stream is from an underground spring and is more stationary than other rivers nearby."

Meryl released a breath, studying the icy surface

"Let me see how much _my baby _can cut through this damn ice." She unsheathed her knife and made her way to a spot on the ice holding it with the blade facing down.

"Be careful, I broke my knife breaking through the ice."

Meryl grinned confidently with a tinge of giddiness in her eyes.

"This is no ordinary blade, Myriam, it was especially crafted for these occasions."

Meryl grabbed the hilt of her knife with her palm, raised it high and brought into down hard vertically, cleaving through the ice like butter. The ice cracked and groaned loudly under them, prompting them to become wary of the instability of the ice. She heard Myriam gasp in wonderment. With every grunt Myriam hacked at the ice until she formed a crevice that could be wide enough for a hatchet to break through the ice. Meryl got up with a satisfied grin on her face as she looked at her blade with immeasurable pride.

"May I…" Myriam came over to her side, her eyes transfixed at Meryl's knife.

Meryl proudly nodded and passed the knife over to her which Myriam held so carefully and gingerly with eyes wide in awe. She balanced the knife on the flat of her palm then carefully held it by the hilt, flexing her fingers around the rubber handle while tilting the dark blade.

"Where…" Myriam was so entranced by the splendor of the knife that she did not finish her sentence.

"A friend of mine who was my superior gave it to me as a present…" Meryl's voice quieted towards the end, remembering the face of Thompson and the reason for the gift, bitterness gripped her.

"A lover?" Myriam supplied in a tender tone which made Meryl's snap her attention to her direction.

Meryl chortled and shook her head dismissively.

"Pfff, lover?! Hell nah! Thompson was such a hard ass, he was not lover but definitely a damn good superior of my unit." She chuckled and grinned, lowering her eyes, the bitterness trickling out of her demeanor "He noticed I was intimidated and discouraged by the successes of my friends in their lives and careers. I was having a moment of self-pity and he gave it to me as a form of encouragement."

Myriam had observed her very intently, nodding with understanding.

"I begin to understand why you treasure this weapon."

"Myriam, you are the first one to understand this."

Then they both heard the crunching of snow and both directed their gazes to the sources. Meryl's heart involuntarily throbbed and she quickly cleared her throat.

"Speaking of the devil… Connor can I have your hatchet?"

Connor lumbered over to the women, his neutral expression remaining unchanged. He showed no indication of what happened earlier and even Meryl's request should have incited a reaction but he simply looked at her, standing a few feet apart from her.

"What for?"

"You know, breaking the ice?" Meryl indicated to the gutted surface of the ice.

Connor peered over them, passing them to see what she was pointing at.

"What happened?" Connor directed his attention to Myriam.

Myriam chuckled nervously.

"It was an error on my part I had forgotten about my trap since the snow fell. I just discovered it today."

Connor of course reserved no judgment against Myriam. Meryl was sure if she had done that, at least that's the impression she has gotten from him, he would never entrust her with anything.

"Allow me to have a look." He offered and kneeled down at the bank of the stream, seeing the gash on the ice. "Have you done this?"

"Yup, with my darling knife." Meryl chimed in with pride.

He actually looked back at her, his chestnut brown eyes showing mild surprise, his mouth was slightly parted.

"Told ya it was _too_ valuable." Meryl crossed her arms over her chest, raising her chin with her lips curving into a confident smile.

He looked at her for just a moment then returned his attention back to the task before him. He pulled the hatchet from his waist, gripped it by the handle and scanned the ice. His eyes zeroed on a particular part of the frozen surface, Meryl could tell he had found a weakness in the ice.

"Might as well hack at the area I started, Connor. You can just pull the rope out from there."

"Is the rope attached to something else, Myriam?" he bluntly ignored Meryl's remark and shifted his attention back to Myriam who stood next to Meryl.

"I tied the base to a tree trunk further upstream, but there should be some branches that acted as a support to my trap."

Connor got up and immediately made his way upstream. The women followed him as the stream began to meander a little, by-passing small boulders. Meryl immediately recognized where they were. They were approaching the sloping hill that had brought her down to the Homestead in the first place.

"_Oh memories._" Meryl mumbled to herself, vividly remembering her little tumble, her changing of clothes and then saving Myriam from the thugs.

"I beg your pardon?" Myriam inquired with curiosity.

Meryl chuckled.

"I came through this area before, you know, when I came in time to save you."

Myriam chuckled and her face lit up with gratitude.

"Yes, indeed. Thank you again… I am very sorry for the accusations."

Meryl waved her hand dismissively at Myriam.

"Don't worry, it happens and it was my pleasure." Meryl winked at her. "How's everything now? No more thugs I hope?"

Myriam shook her head with a grin.

"You have scared them off for good."

"Great. Let me know if you are getting harassed again, I will _gladly_ take care of them for you."

Myriam laughed and patted Meryl on the shoulder. Connor was not too far ahead and he probably did hear the entire conversation, but he concentrated on the task at hand. He spotted something and sped up his pace. He stopped at a felled tree trunk that had fallen across the stream. There was a rope attached at its base. Myriam quickly joined his side.

"The snow must have knocked it over."

It was still a very young tree with a thin trunk, but as they inspected the area that it had snapped. Connor grew very quiet. His movements were stilled.

"What's wrong?" Meryl asked, realizing how his demeanor changed entirely.

Connor had been kneeling at the broken tree trunk, brushing his fingers over the jagged, snapped area while his eyes scanned the narrow tree trunk with such intensity that he shut out the world around him. It was just him, the tree trunk and nature. It was as if he was using all his senses to figure out what happened to this tree.

"I should have noticed this…" he finally mumbled, causing the women to perk up to his words.

"What? Noticed what, Connor?"

Myriam swooped down to Connor's side, also studying the tree trunk and also checking the entire thing. There were long scratches running down the narrow tree trunk.

"Bear activity?" Myriam noted with concern, her face alarmed. "Is it near?"

"No, he isn't at the moment." Connor replied, gazing in front, his eyes warily searching the landscape.

"Haven't all the bears moved up north, towards the mountains?" inquired Myriam, feeling very uneasy about this situation as she fiddled with her tied hair.

Connor got up and so did Myriam.

"He is alone. I am uncertain about his reason for wandering away from the herd."

"Are we talking about a young male bear venturing out on his own or an old bear that is dying?" added Meryl into the conversation, standing in front of the two. "And what type of bear are we talking about, brown bear or a black grizzly bear because these two are very different things."

Connor and Myriam, the two 18th century characters who had vastly more knowledge on hunting and tracking, just stared at her.

Never in her life had Meryl felt so out of place.

Their stares amplified that feeling tenfold to the degree that she felt a discomfort in the pit of her stomach. The harmony that they had shared was shattered by an observation, a rather nosy and reckless one. As the awkwardness did not appear to fade away any time soon, she cleared her throat.

"Uhm, okay, well… I guess I've said enough." Meryl chuckled nervously and backed away from them. "If you need me I'll be at the Davenport manor."

She turned around and began to walk awaywhen she heard Myriam call after her. Meryl stopped in her steps and looked back at Myriam's apologetic expression.

"Meryl, please forgive my manners..."

"Don't worry," Meryl gave a forced smile, dismissing what she felt in the inside. "I know it's not my place, a total stranger, to say these things, you two are the hunters and trackers. You go do your thing."

"Meryl—

"It's okay, Myriam. I am anyway expected at the home." Then she shifted her attention to Connor. "Let me know what you guys plan to do about the bear and I will see you two later."

Meryl turned around and departed from the scene without looking back, the loneliness gnawing at her insides.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Hi... ARGH I KNOW I AM SORRY! D: October was just horrendous and the horror will escalate as the semester is closing soon :( I will make it up to you my fellow readers, I swear! I will post chapter 19 this month to compensate for my transgressions .**

**Thank you all again for the support and the reviews. Nothing in the world can express the gratitude I feel towards the encouragements and you all, I sincerely mean it.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter and as usual have a wonderful week and I will see you next chapter! Toodles!**

**Reviews, comments and criticism are always appreciated XD**

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**~ Pushing buttons ~**

Everybody at the Homestead was all up in her face and body, splashing her with oils, powder and some perfumed shit that made Meryl nauseous. They had scrubbed her raw _once again_. This appeared to be a persistent pattern whenever Alexander Leighton showed his face. Did she smell and look that bad throughout the time or was it just a customary thing to do whenever a special event happened? Was it necessary? Wasn't it a little overboard?

"_Yayyy,_ I am getting prepped to be served on a platter, _woooohoooo_." Meryl grumbled and hissed right after the bristles of the brush scrubbed harshly over her already raw red back.

Meryl threw a dirty look at Ingrid and she merely looked back at Meryl with a defiant and triumphant look on her face. Meryl sighed with defeat, her arms slung around her drawn up knees. This wasn't the only humiliation she had to endure, oh no, she was in a fucking wooden bathtub that looked more like a drunk deformed wine barrel. The clear water had gotten to a murky color due to the soap and possibly her filth. 18th century people really didn't bathe much. There was this inherent fear that a slightest cold could kill them.

"You do realize that I want my skin and tattoos intact, right, Ingrid?"

Ingrid just snorted at her. The bathtub stood in front of her roaring fireplace in her bedroom while the last glimmers of the late afternoon sunlight bathed the room and mixed with the reddish hue of the fire.

The crackling of the fire, the occasional splash of water and scrubbing filled this weird silence. Despite the humiliation, it was actually a pleasant bath this time around. Maybe because she had gotten used to it or more like in a twisted way she began to enjoy the pampering.

Ingrid had out of precaution placed an intricately woven green silk folding screen in front of the door which was normally used for changing clothes. _But a particular tall person_ could easily peek over it if they really tried.

"Schatz, extend your arms for me."

Meryl did as she was told and Ingrid came over scrubbing them. She indicated Meryl's legs as well which Meryl too complied. When she finished scrubbing these areas, she moved onto another part.

"Can you stand up? I need to get your lower back and your bottom."

Meryl sighed. _Fuck this_. She got up, turning her back towards Ingrid to allow her to scrub her lower back and her butt raw.

"Why does my _bottom_ need to be scrubbed raw?"

"Every inch must be scrubbed, Schatz."

Meryl grumbled.

"I don't understand why I have to undergo this treatment every time _he _comes around. I doubt he will get to see me naked, Ingrid."

Ingrid paused in her actions and cleared her throat.

"You barely know this gentleman and you already think of that?"

Meryl turned her head to peek over her shoulder with wide grin plastered on her face. It was Ingrid's turn to roll her eyes and sigh.

"Sit down before you catch death." Ingrid hissed to intercept Meryl's sexually charged comments with a little yank of her arm.

Meryl sat back in the water and Ingrid finished the last bit of the bath, dumping water over Meryl's head and then massaging her hair with some oils. When that was finished Ingrid went over to get Meryl a thin but soft towel and she quickly tried herself off with. Then Ingrid gave her a thin bathrobe.

"I am afraid that you will have to wear the dresses I have prepared for you on your bed for the next few days."

"_Why_?" Meryl asked with outrage in her voice.

"Your garments are very dirty at present. You will have to contend with the dresses until your garments have been taken care of."

Meryl walked over to the bed, her expression contorted with displeasure as she surveyed the type of dresses that she was forced to wear. Of course, this time around, they looked more sophisticated and possibly more expensive judging from the smooth and satin feel of these dresses_._

_Wow, so they are they planning to marry her off on the spot…_

"I apologize that these aren't to your liking."

"Of course not!" Meryl interjected quickly, eyeing the dresses with conflicting emotions, discomfort, defeat and interest. "They are beautiful! I…I am not sure why you all are so determined and adamant to marry me off to this stranger."

"Marry you, Schatz?"

"Well yes, you all seem pretty anxious to get rid of me or something."

Ingrid blinked a few times, halting in her movements and reflecting.

"Is that how you feel about us?" she stopped folding the towel and drew an earnest expression on her face. "That we are forcing you against your will?"

Meryl encountered her grave demeanor with a steady and calm expression. Ingrid stood at the vanity dresser, frozen in mid-folding, looking at Meryl. Meryl did not want to respond and returned her attention to the dresses on her bed.

"I appreciate your concern for…my well being." Replied Meryl hesitantly, maintaining externally a neutral stance while internally rebelling with ferocity against all of this. "I rather have nature take its course than be subjugated to this."

"Subjugated? Schatz, I-

-Ingrid, please." Meryl raised her hand to interrupt Ingrid and she gazed at her with detachment, "I will try, but don't expect anything from this."

Ingrid abandoned the folding of towels and strode over to Meryl, her hands folded down in front of her apron.

"What are you afraid of, Miss Briar?" Ingrid addressed her more formally now. "That he will see you - the real you?"

Meryl's face contorted with an ironic chuckle.

"We are back at this again." She sighed.

"Of course we are Miss Briar!" Ingrid rebutted sternly, "There is a reason why we return to this subject. You are being indecisive!"

"_Indecisive_, huh? I think you mean skeptical or careful. Indecisive gets you killed…" Meryl supplied with suppressed annoyance.

Ingrid inhaled sharply.

"Not once have you explicitly expressed your sentiments."

"_I did! Billions of times_, but you guys disregard everything I say!"

"No, Miss Briar." Ingrid took a firm stance now. "You are avoiding any semblance of sentiment or display of affection. Your intentions are very much a mystery to all of us."

"Well thanks for pointing that out." Growled Meryl.

After a tense silence, Ingrid cleared her throat, her voice quieter and now more sincere.

"It appears…that you treat your stay here as temporary, as if you do not want to form any attachment to us."

Meryl's heart lurched and she couldn't help herself but stare at Ingrid.

This _is temporary_! She couldn't stay here! She was from the fucking 21st century! She firmly believed in her bones that 18th century colonial America would catapult her back into the 21st century to reestablish balance and order again. She was a fucking danger to the 18th century! She read a lot of sci-fi shit in her life and watched countless "Back to the future" esque movies to make her understand that if she changed something, it will alter something maybe for the better or for the worse. In a daunting manner, she was God! She knew the past, the present and future, at least in general sense.

And…begrudgingly she admitted that she was a coward. She didn't want to live during the time of Native American extinction and the beginning of the enslavement of all African slaves. She did not want to live through this, she knew if she witnessed any of these events she would go all vigilante and berserk with cold blood.

"Miss Briar, I know you must have your reasons and I will not pry." Ingrid intoned, experience and understanding dominating her voice and features "My only wish is to see your happiness. You need clarity. Commit to a decision. Are you here with us or not?"

Meryl was stunned. Her mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to express what she felt, but nothing came out. Yes, she was here, physically but her mind, her memories and upbringing were all in the 21st century.

"You are evidently interested and curious about Master Leighton, are you not?"

Meryl did not respond, but Ingrid understood that silence very well.

Yes, Meryl was curious and maybe interested in Alexander Leighton, but who the fuck wasn't! LOOK AT THAT MAN! He screamed _gentleman! He screamed every girl's dream of prince charming with a sexy-naughty twist about him!_

But sparks did not go off with him unlike Connor…he had that untamed, natural, feral beauty about him that appealed to Meryl's untamed side too while Alexander was the dangerous kinda hot man, the one your mom and your friends warn you to stay away from.

Maybe she was indecisive after all. On one hand she had Connor and on the other Alexander. But in the back of her mind, a motive had begun to stew. She wanted to test Connor, it was a selfish, immature and a foolish hope, but she wanted to see if there was a change in his behavior. Maybe a little jolt would give him a dose of jealousy or something. It was childish, but she wanted to do it anyway.

"It is understandable that you are bewildered that a fine gentleman like himself has taken a liking for you." Ingrid rested her hand on Meryl's shoulder and she smiled warmly in her direction, "I can tell that you had your heart broken many times and you have been hurt, but nothing good will come into your life if you remain closed."

Meryl lowered her eyes. Was she that transparent? She always thought nobody could read her and many didn't, but since she arrived in the 18th century it changed. Were people in the past more observant and less distracted than in the future? Or was the 18th century bringing forth her true colors?

"Or… do you have someone, you…?"

Meryl jerked up her head, her heart shooting up to her throat, Connor's face flashing in front of her eyes.

"I-I don't think so." She replied with a stammer, averting her gaze.

Ingrid's eyes sharpened with realization and as she was about to open her mouth to interrogate her, a firm knock at the door interrupted the conversation.

"Yes, who is it?" snapped Ingrid.

The door opened and Connor showed up, momentarily baffled by the folding screen that had been almost wrapped around the entrance way. His towering frame easily peered over the top part of the elaborate frame of the folding screen. He looked to his right finding Ingrid covering protectively Meryl's frame.

"_Um Himmels Willen, Connor_! How many times have I told you not to enter a woman's room without announcing yourself! _Avert your eyes this instant_!" Ingrid almost yelled in defense.

Connor nervously averted his eyes and turned his body away.

"Sorry, Ingrid. Achilles wants a word with you." He stammered.

"What for?" Ingrid strode over in huffs, clearly angered by Connor's transgressions.

"He would not say. I believe it is related to the preparations for Mr. Leighton."

"Oh?" she intoned now more attentive, possibly realizing the seriousness of it.

She moved the folding screen aside, gave him a hard whack at the shoulder with a scowl on her face.

"Have her bath drained and removed once Miss Briar is fully clothed." She barked at him, grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the room.

The door closed and Meryl exhaled with relief. She snorted a chuckle.

"That was actually cute." Meryl mumbled.

There was a certain smile on her face, reflecting the palpitating feeling of her heart. She turned around, delighting in the warm nature of that feeling. Ingrid had given her another casual dress in neutral blue made of a mix of cotton and wool that probably belonged to her. She took off the bathrobe, but on some kind of under-dress made of linen which looked more like a nightgown which hung loosely over her body with frilly collar and sleeves which could be tightened with lace. It did a great job shielding her skin from the partially rough material of her dress. There was a bodice piece, a stays, which was reinforced with strips of wood to ensure proper posture and a cool boobie cleavage. However, Ingrid's dress was a little different; the collar had a lower cut allowing a bit of a coquettish cleavage. God it was the perfect tease! She was also given a striped and partially faded apron which she wrapped over in the front.

Meryl stood in front of the vanity mirror with the completed look. Geez, she looked like an average 18th century woman…with a nice cleavage. She had to adjust her undergarment so that the collar hid underneath the dress. The look was complete. She put some stockings which she had to fasten with a garter around her thighs. It was funny how the garters were more considered a sexual thing in the 21st century, but in the 18th century it had a functional purpose since elastic was not invented yet.

A light knock at the door drew her attention.

"Yes?"

"It's Connor, may I come in?" Connor's distinct voice sent a shiver down Meryl's spine.

"Yes." She responded and no sooner the door opened.

Connor entered the room tentatively, glancing about himself until he noticed that she was fully clothed. For a short time, his eyes lit up with surprise and his mouth was lightly parted, but then he returned to his stone face demeanor. He walked into her room, stopping a safe distance

"Well, by a good 15 minutes you missed your chance to see me naked." Meryl stated blatantly, combing her hair in front of her vanity dresser and flashing Connor a coquettish smile.

Connor was momentarily disarmed by her off-hand comment. His eyebrows were raised with his chestnut brown eyes a little wide and his mouth pursued. Then as if realizing her intentions, his entire demeanor hardened with annoyance, he crossed his arms over his chest and the frown was back. He didn't respond, but his first reaction was very enticing to Meryl. She drew her full attention to him and strode over to him, so that they were at least an arm length away from each other.

"What do you think of my _temporary _get up?" she grabbed the dress at the bottom, flaunting it and suggestively squeezing her upper arms against her bodice to create more cleavage.

"It suits you." Connor answered curtly, growing tenser with annoyance as he noticed her flirty attempts.

"Good. It makes me look the part very well, that of a naïve housewife. If I am lucky it might tame me until Mr. Leighton leaves." She answered back nonchalantly and she too crossed her arms. "Anyway, how is the bear tracking going?"

"The thawing of the snow has made tracking a little difficult. We know he is on the Homestead property."

"Uhuh…Anything strange with the imprint though?"

"We found that he is very large. He is of old age. Also he has a bad limp."

"Aha, so it is his last journey." Meryl released a breath. "Do you think he could become a threat to the Homestead?"

"Maybe." Connor's body revealed minor tension in his frown, "I will be tracking him over the next days. I advise you to remain inside until he has left the property. If you need to use the outhouse do it in daylight. Keep your knife near."

"Wow, so he is _that_ dangerous."

"It is better to be safe. I will go warn the Homestead community." He announced and appeared to be ready to leave her room.

"Aww, so you won't be here tomorrow to watch as I _crush_ Alexander Leighton's idyllic vision of me?"

A small tug at his lips revealed for a split second amusement. He cleared his throat to restore his demeanor. He shook his head.

"I need to make preparations and track him."

Meryl took a deep breath. In a rather strange way, she wanted to make small talk with him, stall him for a little longer. As Connor had made his way back to the door, Meryl followed him until she stood at his side, her shoulder leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Do you know where Kazuma is?" she asked him.

"He is sleeping in the kitchen." He replied and then he grabbed the door handle.

"What do you think of him?" she bluntly asked him, he stopped in his movement with his hand resting on the door handle and then turned his head towards her.

"Kazuma or Mr. Leighton?"

Meryl's heart squeezed unpleasantly and she unconsciously bit her lip. She raised her eyes to meet his.

"Both."

Connor studied her, carefully planning his words.

"Kazuma is growing to a strong wolf. He will serve his purpose well." Connor explained in a very upfront manner, but for a split second she saw some hesitation in his allure towards Mr. Leighton. "As for Mr. Leighton…I am not certain what to think of him yet."

His latter answer grabbed her attention and she quickly placed her hand over the door, to stop him from getting out.

"What do you mean by you don't know what you think of him?" she inquired in earnest, because his words left her with some insecurities.

Connor took note of her behavior.

"I do not know him enough to make a judgment."

Meryl groaned.

"I don't believe you, Connor. You must have some impression of him especially as secretive as you are. You've probably spoken to him or saw him talk with Achilles or something."

"Why does my opinion matter to you?"

Meryl's eyes widened and her heart lurched, caught off guard by his blunt statement. Then she shook her head in defense, quickly trying to recover.

"Uhm, it-it doesn't!" she countered with a stammer, averting her eyes. "Just wanted a second opinion, yes, _a man's opinion_, that's all."

Connor scrutinized her. She felt his eyes searing through her face, once again questioning her intentions. Then he sighed as he could not find anything malicious about her words.

"He seems to be a good gentleman. I see, he is - _very_ interested in you."

Despite herself, his response made her smile. She wasn't sure if it was Connor's opinion that made her smile or the idea that Alexander was interested in her. When she met his eyes, there was again some surprise in his feature but he quickly averted his eyes to the door and he cleared his throat.

"I…I will take care of your bath later. I need to warn the others at the Homestead and tell Achilles about the bear."

"I could tell Achilles about the bear if you want."

Connor looked at her, considering her offer and then he nodded solemnly. He opened the door and stepped out. Meryl decided to follow after him since she had nothing to do in her room. They walked along the hallway with Meryl right behind him and when he placed his hand on the railing as he had taken one step down, Meryl placed her hand on his and squeezed it gently. He froze and snapped his attention at her, again caught off guard by her actions.

Meryl held a grave expression on her face.

"Be careful and be prepared." She told him in an unwavering tone without breaking eye contact with him. "I have come across a bear before and I barely escaped with my life."

Connor stared at her. The silence and tension between them almost stifling. He was trying to read her again, always checking if her words were sincere. His eyes darted to her hand on his then back to her stark grey eyes.

"I will." He answered back in a calm tone.

Then they both heard the excited shuffling of footsteps at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh!" Marie's voice fell momentarily with surprise as she noticed Meryl and Connor's close physical proximity, but she quickly resumed her usual self. "Hun! That dress looks _marvelous_ on you!"

Meryl withdrew her hand quickly, hiding her surprised reaction with a pleased smile and walked down the stairs flaunting her figure and dress.

"You think so? Who would have thought I looked rather _fetching _as a _boring and ordinary_ housewife." Meryl added with a raised chin, a touch of posh British.

Marie chuckled and linked arms with Meryl dragging her towards the kitchen, seamlessly ignoring Connor who had been glued to the top of the steps.

* * *

Connor marched out of the house with his heart pounding against his ribs. He came to a full stop at the bottom of the outside stairs which joined onto the snow covered path that would lead into the heart of the Homestead property. He rested his hands against his hips and took a deep steady breath and exhaled, seeing his breath turn to steam.

He drove his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sigh the bead clicking against his jaw. He turned his head aside as if attempting to look away from the images that were tantalizing him. She provoked very conflicting emotions and sensations within him and it was very _distracting_. He unlatched his hatchet from his waist, feeling the worn leather hilt against his fingerless gloves. It immediately grounded him. He felt a surge of power and duty course through his body. The confusion dissipated and he instantly took off running, letting that surge of power carry him through his last task of the day.

* * *

Meryl had the chance to tell Achilles about the roaming bear. He appeared as usual, very calm and collected, as if confident enough that Connor could take care of the situation. It freaked Meryl out how _everybody relied on Connor_. Poor guy, everybody had high hopes and high expectations of this guy. That kind of pressure would have killed her.

The rest of the evening was spent making preparations for Alexander's arrival. Meryl was growing more and more nervous about this whole affair. Everybody, except Connor and Achilles, was too dedicated about this matter.

By the end of the day Meryl found herself lounging in the upholstered seat in her room in front of a fire while Kazuma was sleeping on the carpet near the crackling fire. A creaking floor board roused her attention from her book. Her heart hammered and she got up quietly and swiftly. She tiptoed and pressed her back against the wall, just next to the door, listening to the lumbering footsteps.

It was definitely passed midnight.

When she heard the approaching footsteps, she grabbed the door handle, pulled on it and opened the door. She slipped out, coming face to face with Connor's towering frame. Meryl closed the door with the last bit of light vanishing from the dark hallway.

"What are you doing here?" he interrogated her.

Meryl blinked a few times, temporarily blinded by the transition from a bright room to a dark hallway. When her eyes had adjusted, the only source of light came from under her door which very dimly outlined Connor's frame.

"I, uhhhm, wanted to know how the bear tracking thing was going." She responded quickly and nervously, feeling his aura of hostility stabbing her. "You know, because I am concerned for _everybody's_ safety."

The darkness was really working against her. She had difficulty seeing what his face was expressing. That damn light from under her room barely touched his chin, it was like staring at a black hazy cloud that covered Connor's face.

"Why does it bother you this much?" again he responded reproachfully as if she was being too nosy and maybe she was.

"Well, I am worried, should I not be?"

Connor released a mix of a groan and an irritated sigh.

"Your worry is unnecessary."

"Oh gee, thanks." She barked back. "Sorry for actually caring about your safety."

Connor went deathly quiet. She could not see his damn face, but found that his body language had gotten very tense. For some reason Meryl sensed an imminent danger. She was not wrong.

With a loud thud, her back hit the nearby wall, her back of the head smacking against the plaster/wooden wall, followed by his rough hand gripping her shoulder and collar bone in a vice like grip. Flashes assaulted her vision and she was stunned, but then she felt a cool blade against her throat, bringing her awareness back to reality. She gasped.

"What the _fuck _is wrong with you, Connor!" Meryl breathed, anxiety but also irritation fueling her voice. "_We are at this again!?"_

"Be silent." He threatened her, an iciness in his voice freezing her blood.

She felt his breath on her face. He had lowered his face to her level.

"What are you doing?" he intoned every word.

"Connor, I don't know what the hell you are talking about?"

She felt the blade press against her throat a little more, her heart hammering with fear.

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"_What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_"

He took a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. Meryl was squinting her eyes, trying her hardest to see his expression but it was impossible.

"Are you trying to _seduce me_?" he interrogated her.

"What makes you think that?" she exclaimed with defense.

She hissed when his grip tightened.

"I question your intentions towards me."

"Oh my God! We are back at this again!?"

She began to push her body forward against his pressing hand, then she inched her neck forward feeling the blade back away by millimeters against her moving neck.

"You had your opportunities to kill me and now you have another chance. Go on, slice my throat then_. I dare you_. I am not afraid of you or death!" She grabbed his hand that had the knife and then gave a sultry chuckle. "Or am I too _interesting_ to be killed just yet."

Connor took control of his sharp breathing. There was tense silence. Suddenly, he dropped his knife which clattered against the floorboard and brusquely grabbed Meryl by the wrists and pressed them hard against the wall.

"Don't test me! I _need_ to know," he breathed with an underlying growl.

Meryl's body was on fire and her heart pounded with a mix of fear, anger and arousal. Even in this distressing and threatening situation, she could not help herself. God, she was enamored with being dominated by a man.

In spite of the situation a sigh escaped her lips. With horror she desperately tried to hide it, but when she felt his hands squeeze from her reaction, she had to come up with an answer.

"Ohhh, so you want to know my intentions?" She breathed with an air of confidence and seduction.

"Yes." His voice came across gruff.

"Then get that _motherfucking blade away from my throat!"_ she snapped venomously at him.

Connor huffed angrily against her response, trying hard not to lose his composure further. He withdrew the blade but still kept her cornered.

"I am so sick and tired of this! This has been going on for too long now, Connor. If you won't believe me then speak to Achilles! He will straight up tell you that I am no enemy, that I am not some secret assassin out there to kill you or anybody on this God damn property!"

Connor went completely silent and still. The air felt very tense and heavy. Connor was the cause of the sudden change in the atmosphere.

Then without a word or sound he released her. He backed away from her and grabbed his knife from the floor. He turned his body away and simply walked off in the direction of his room, closing the door after him.

Meryl released a deep breathe, melting against the wall. Shivers had gone down her spine and to her toes, just envisioning what could have happened. Death or sex. Either way, she was disappointed and let down, but she did not hate him for it.

Finally, she had all the evidence.

_Well, fuck._

She was sexually attracted to him and there was nothing she could do about it.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Helloooo, how's everybody doing? Good? Great! Yep, I am fine, just barely floating don't mind me, I'll manage. I am finding myself in Meryl's situation where she is trying to save that Native American boy, except my course is more "move-bitch-get-out-the-way" and jumping off the damn waterfall into the sweet embrace of FREEEEEDOM! **

***COUGH* Anyway, I am fine, I am in my last YEAR of college, so the hunt for internships and throwing myself in the adult world is becoming a reality... (oh dear God .)**

**I usually don't want to spend time babbling as this isn't part of publishing fanfics, but I had to get this off my chest. I WATCHED POCAHONTAS AGAIN AND IT'S BEEN ALMOST 20 YEARS AGO! I have to thank my daughter for bringing this back into my life! OMG! Nostalgia came over and kicked me right in the metaphoric balls and left me in a pile of delirious tears and happiness. The opening scene with the Native American's singing, made me tear up. Also it was a moment of realization. As I am majoring in history, it made me realize that colonial American history is my calling! It makes sense! I had an obsession with Native Americans as a child for as long as I can remember! I had the friggen Pocahontas barbie doll and the smoldering hot Kocoum doll as well (he makes think of Connor now, HAWT DANG!). I know, I know that Pocahontas isn't historically accurate and Disney was quite stingy and uhm, insensitive and maybe disrespectful, with how they treated the actual Algonquin representatives (those who advised on the design, tribal customs, clothing and history, etc) but disregarding that it was truly an epiphany, a return to a child-like fondness and innocence of something that had been suppressed and buried by insecurities and trying to fit in. Believe whatever you will, the divine, destiny or "a horse" as Flynn Ryder from Tangled aptly puts it - follow what you desire. Don't lose or forget that inner child that brought you so much joy in your life and find something that you love to do.**

**Enough with the babble, here is another chapter! Hope you enjoy! Thank you again for the lovely and encouraging reviews! They truly make my day and y'all have a pleasant weekend. Another chapter will follow suit, as it is again a big chapter that I had to cut in half, but don't worry it doesn't end on a cliffhanger.**

**Take care and see you at the next update!**

* * *

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**~ 18****th**** century courting ~**

She woke up with a goofy smile on her face. Oh if Connor knew what kind of filth she had dreamed, he probably would never speak to her again. She chuckled and then stretched her limbs like a feline in her soft bed. She felt weirdly satisfied and proud about last night at both their encounter outside in the hallway and the dirty dream and. It felt like payback and it was empowering. The wheels were finally turning, in what direction she was not sure.

Kazuma gave a loud squeaky yawn as he stretched his paws, nudging Meryl at her right side. She gave him a loving caress on his soft head and a pat on his back. She sat up and took note on how much this little guy was growing. His baby round features were still there, but very gradually she saw the snout growing more defined and his ears taking a sharper look. His pelt too which had a mix of dark grays especially around his face was transitioning into a darker color, possibly black. His eyes too which were still beady and round with the mesmerizing arctic blue was undergoing a steady but slow change in color. The outer rings of his iris were revealing a yellow amber shade. It appeared that the blue color was going to fade away, it was kind of sad. She had gotten used to his beautiful eyes, but if nature wanted to change, so be it.

The entire morning was spent scrambling about the Davenport manor tidying up and prepping the dining and another parlor area which Meryl had been oblivious about. This parlor was actually on the 2nd floor. Her room, Connor's and Achilles' were all on the right, whereas the sitting area was on the left away from all the bedrooms. The servant quarter was actually outside in a separate building within proximity of the Davenport manor, of course. They officially called the other sitting room as the "parlor", as it was kept separated and more private from the house.

This room was the shit, it was designed to impress. It almost felt like Meryl had arrived in a different house. The room was painted in white with a small chandelier hanging over a little coffee table with intricate floral upholstered satin couches and seats. The fire place was very exquisite. The mantle was probably made of the best wood in the house judging from its gloss and vibrant earthy tone. It was so smoothly sanded down that it felt so divine to the touch. The fireplace was so thoroughly cleaned and maintained that it barely looked like it was ever used.

Even the ceiling in the room had some rococo floral carving going on and that was also found between the edges of the wall and ceiling. It really felt like Meryl had stepped into a British home of the regency era, this is how much it stuck out from the old-Americana-colonial designs throughout the manor. It was so surreal. This room was definitely meant for VIPs.

And now Meryl was thrown into it, sitting on the edge of the velvet couch with her hands folded over her lap showing off her _graceful_ posture. If her 21st century friends saw her they would laugh at her. She felt like a dolled up show dog. Her dress was not outrageous or eccentric like a renaissance dress, in fact it was beautiful and…she had to admit she looked very nice in it. It was the process of _squeezing_ her into this dress that made it ridiculous. Apparently, the dress was the latest fashion in London, Jesus…

Her dress was beautiful. It was made of a shiny sky blue satin with a lowered, rounded collar to reveal her décolleté. She wore a white shift which pretty much was an oversized undershirt with a frilly lacy cuff and collar. Over the undershirt she wore, a stay [a type of corset] which squished her torso and boobs, creating that "V" shape that apparently all men fawned over. Even her casual dress of yesterday was more comfortable than this. Some white flower petal like ruching was in the front of the stay to complement the smooth satin texture and the lacy cuffs and collar.

Another thing that was added, which Meryl could not understand about 18th century fashion or fashion in general, was that fucking hooped petticoat. That thing was a bell-like basket thing that hung from the waist to give the illusion of wider hips. Ya know, a la Renaissance Marie Antoinette style. At least it did not make her as wide as the door, but it added a moderate bell shape to her lower body which was…interesting. She could host a circus under her dress, how cool is that!

They gave her a white floral lace Kerchief, a type of little scarf or shawl that covered her exposed skin around her shoulders and above her breasts. Meryl believed its purpose was more for modesty and to keep the antsy, drooling men's eyes away from the chest area. That kerchief was still quite transparent, so it kind of defeats its purpose.

Either way, she looked fabulous in it and she never thought her collar bones and squished upward boobs would look glorious in that get up. Her light blond hair was combed back and tied into some high pony tail, held back by a lovely satin blue headband or something. They curled the ends of her hair into tight ringlets which bounced with every movement. It was hilarious and weird at the same time. Never did she ever have curls like this, it made her look…younger, which she didn't like, but for everybody's sake she didn't resist.

Paired with her dress, she wore some pointed shoes again with the satin blue finish made of silk with a little heel. Dear God… Meryl has worn heels in her life, living in New York, it is necessary to have a pair at least, but this was bad. They were not reinforced enough to give Meryl the assurance that she wouldn't topple over and fracture her ankles. And it was just a MEASLY few inches! FEW INCHES! Six inch heels were easier to walk in than that weird misfit pubescent silk shoe.

The grandfather clock clicked away and the fire crackled. The early afternoon light poured in accentuating the whiteness of the room. It was the first blue sky they had in a while. She sat there, literally twiddling her thumbs. It was just 12:30. He would be arriving either in 15 minutes or more depending on the weather conditions. Meryl groaned. Why has she subjugated herself to this? This is not her! She was never meant to be dolled up and put on a pedestal like that. She wanted to wear pants, boots, shirt and roll around in the mud playing with Kazuma!

Meryl wanted to fall back on the couch as she was getting tired of sitting like a statue. It was like two pieces of wood were placed in front of her chest and on her back, she could not move her torso one bit! She fell back on the back lean, grunting as the stay groaned with her movement and then sighing with content.

"How do these women manage with this fucking piece of shit?" she mumbled to herself as she looked down to her dress, "And more importantly how do they have sex in this?"

By the time the man and woman have pulled off everything, they will have lost all interest and drive. Or maybe, since it was a very prude era, maybe peeling off every layer was such a turn on. Good for them! But not good for Meryl. She was itching to get out of this thing!

Suddenly, the shuffle of footsteps followed by the entrance door opening rang through the manor. Ingrid's and Achilles voices mingled, greeting someone and ushering the person. No sooner another calmer, baritone voice joined in. Meryl's heart shot up to her throat, she grabbed the arm of the chair and hoisted herself up with a grunt. This dress was very impractical and dangerous too. If somebody forced themselves on her, she would be fucked, in both contexts. If she had to run in this, she would be fucked too.

She heard the tapping of footsteps and the creaking of the wooden stairs.

_Oh shit, he's coming!_

She got up, glancing around in a panicked state. She had to _do something_! She didn't want to look like she was sitting there waiting for him! Ya know, first date awkwardness. Meryl wobbled over to the window.

"_Fuck these shoes!_" she hissed to herself "_If you make me fall and embarrass myself, I will toss you into this fire!"_

She got to the window in one piece and stood there, pretending to be _a lonely blossom staring out into the distance, musing about life_.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer and finally they stopped in front of the door. The door opened.

Meryl turned around with a smile on her face.

Connor had pushed the door open, allowing the slender and fashionable Alexander Leighton to stride into the room. Meryl saw Connor standing in the door way, staring at her momentarily perplexed. Meryl's heart skipped a beat and she quickly diverted her attention to Alexander Leighton whose eyes scanned her entire figure with awe and he gave her a beaming, charming smile.

_That fucker with his lethal smile._

"Good heavens, Miss Briar! You look absolutely stunning in this gown!"

Meryl was so taken aback by that compliment that it made her face heat up and she returned a shy smile.

"Uh, thank you." She chuckled nervously, averting her eyes.

"Ingrid will bring up some refreshments." Connor announced, as if notifying the others that he was there in this awkward encounter.

Alexander turned his head to Connor and gave a nod of approval.

"Thank you."

Connor left and closed the door behind. Now they were alone which made Meryl more nervous.

_I have been on the battlefield for fuck's sake! This shouldn't even scare me! Yet here I am, trembling with butterflies in my stomach!_

Alexander today donned a dark green almost black suit, with a dark silk vest, a white cravat which had some ruching. He paired it with dark neutral breeches and white stockings which were once again mostly covered by his dark riding boots. He had his auburn hair tied back to a low ponytail. He held his cane and three cornered hat. A large golden ring with the family emblem gleamed against his ring finger. It was stupid but it was the first time she took note of his mesmerizing green eyes. His entire outfit appeared to complement his eyes. He stood a good distance away from her, evidently being polite and not intrusive.

"Is the gown to your liking?" he inquired and Meryl looked down to her dress and smiled.

"Y-yes, why?"

"I purchased it."

Meryl twitched and her mouth opened and closed, baffled by this "nice" or creepy gesture.

"Y-y-you did?!"

"Yes, I had asked Ingrid to have your measurements taken."

_Sons of bitches!_

"Oh really, she did?" Meryl intoned with a forced smile.

This was definitely a proof that everybody was getting too involved in her life.

"Do you not like it?" he asked, taking a step forward, showing concern in his face.

"No! Of course, I love it!" she stammered anxiously, waving her hand, "It's just, I never had a man give me a tailored dress before."

"Oh. Let me be the first then." He asserted with confidence flashing his dazzling smile that Meryl was part of his strategy to woo her.

Meryl crossed her arms and sighed with a dismissive look.

"Somebody seems to be awfully proud about this."

He took another step forward and shrugged at her words.

"You have informed me on Christmas Eve that no man has treated you like this before, so I must take advantage of that."

Meryl cleared her throat to quell her hammering heart, but also try to contain her amusement at how direct he was.

"You are quite, uhh, forward." She stated.

"That is one of my best qualities." He responded and made one more step forward.

Meryl noticed that he was getting closer which made her a little nervous and he probably read that in her facial expression.

"Shall we sit?" he said, extending his arm to her.

Meryl looked at his inviting smile and then looked down at his arm which he offered to her. He wanted to guide her to the couch, _because obviously she would get lost on the way there_. In reality, she accepted his help because her shoes were killing her feet and she felt very unstable in them.

And horror struck.

She stumbled and he caught her, once again. Of course, that gave him the excuse to lace his arm around her waist to assist her to the couch. Meryl's heart gave a jerk. She caught his earthy and lavender scent in her nostrils and it was actually pleasant. This man really did not escape any opportunity to touch her and that made her eye him with a suspicious but playful look. They moved to the couch and he helped her sit down. He sat down beside her, leaving polite distance between them.

"Are the shoes bothering you?"

"Yes," she blatantly replied then turned a suspicious eyebrow at him "And don't deny it, you were waiting to put your arm around me."

Alexander chuckled and he wanted to interject, but Meryl got to him first.

"And no, me stumbling was not intentional, I can't for shit walk in these." She interrupted him quickly with a flick of her finger and then under her breath she added "I need some training with those _fuckers_."

Alexander laughed and then looked at her intently with his green eyes.

"Are you accusing me of tampering with the shoes so that I could catch you in my arms?"

Meryl nodded in a dead pan manner. Alexander turned his attention away for a minute, flicked his tongue at the corner of his mouth and then rubbed his chin with an amused smile.

"My dear, you have created a very intriguing impression of me, I am not as shrewd as you make me to be." He explained and flicked his penetrative green eyes at her, which made Meryl's heart squeeze.

She snorted at his response, folding her arms over her chest in defiance.

"Well, _dear_, I have my reasons to be suspicious."

"Oh, you do?" he intoned with amusement, which made Meryl pout and she whacked his shoulder.

She gave him a forced venomous smile. From the way Alexander was sitting, very polished of course, with his eyes showing that playful but keen glint, he was fully enjoying their interactions.

"Why can you not accept that a person is attracted to you?" he asked her directly which made Meryl huff.

"Come on, I don't deny it, it's just…" Meryl's voice faltered, momentarily lost in memories and she shook her head to clear her mind, returned a neutral smile at him. "I have trust issues."

"So do I." he supplied without hesitation, rubbing his hand over the golden ring, his eyes quickly resting on it then he looked back at her.

Meryl took a deep breath and turned her body and attention to him.

"Mister Leighton."

"Alexander, please." He corrected her gently.

"I am not what you think I am."

"I know." He answered with a perceptive eyes and a knowing smile. "As I have mentioned at our first encounter, you are very different to other women I have met. I might add that you have more _experience_ than all of the women I have met in my life."

Meryl raised her eyebrow.

"Oh? So I am a whore then?"

"_Heavens no_! Please forgive me! That is not what I meant!" he interjected adamantly, appearing apologetic and alarmed by the offense. "I meant, you appear well travelled, knowledgeable and wise."

"Aaaand that is what you got from me just by our little meet up outside the manor?" she eyed him, unconvinced by his words.

"I am a merchant, Miss Briar, the power of observation is an essential tool for my business." He explained with a cool confident smile.

"Oh I know, I am _very aware_ of that." She eyed him with a confident and perceptive glint.

He is a businessman, whether he denied it or not, he had to be shrewd and very observant. They exchanged a tense stare that wasn't malicious or filled with venom, but filled with a certain intimidation factor and respect for each other. It was as if they discovered that both were capable of manipulation.

Alexander released a breath, breaking eye contact and smiled with amusement. He turned his body towards her.

"I hope you take as much delight as I do in our little bickering, Miss Briar."

The corner of Meryl's mouth curled and she bit her lip, giving him a penetrative gaze.

"Maybe."

A light knock at the door interrupted the tension and flow of the conversation. Ingrid came in with a beaming smile with a tray in her hand.

"Here you go my dears. If you need anything, just pull at the rope over there, ja?" She said with a giddy smile which made Meryl roll her eyes.

_Ingrid was relishing this! Everybody was! It was a fucking conspiracy against her!_

Ingrid left the room and they were back on their own.

"Do you want some tea?" Alexander offered.

"Yes, please."

"Sugar and milk?"

Meryl shook her head.

"I like it as it is."

Alexander was surprised but then gave her an approving smile and nod.

"As a tea merchant I drink it pure, untarnished by milk and sugar."

"Which is expected." Meryl added and took a sip from her cup, eyeing him.

"Does nothing surprise you about me?" he rebuffed with a chuckle.

"You're gonna have to try harder, _dear_. Like you said, I am not like the women you have met." She intoned the last word in a mocking tone, to tease him. "Not much surprises me."

"You were surprised that the gown and shoes were gifted by me."

Meryl gave him a scowl.

"I was more annoyed, than surprised, Alexander."

"Annoyed?" Alexander's face became alarmed and apologetic again. "Have I vexed you?"

"Vexed?... Oh! You mean offend, right?" Meryl asked which he nodded to. "No-not really, just everybody is conspiring against me."

"What for?" he asked with concern which Meryl found very cute of him.

She sighed and brought the tea cup to her lips while gazing into the fire. She held the tea cup in her cold hands.

"Well, everybody in this manor is extremely worried that I am still unmarried and childless."

He looked at his cup and sipped from it. They both intentionally paused allowing the crackling of the fire to fill the pleasant but contemplative silence. Again marriage and kids, what a lovely topic, ESPECIALLY when to adults of the opposite sex in their prime were sitting in the same damn room, on the same damn couch! But, Meryl would not relent to it, not yet and especially in the 18th century.

"It can be arranged." He said _innocently_ which made Meryl almost choke on her tea.

Her face heated up and her heart almost jumped out of her chest.

"_Excuse me?!"_ Meryl stammered.

"_Meryl Leighton_ does have a nice ring to the ears." He mused further with amusement, looking in front of him.

Meryl stared at him agape, speechless and also annoyed that he managed to stun her. He snapped his green eyes at her that were filled with confidence and triumph.

"_That_ surprised you."

Meryl turned her head away, hiding the defeat in her face.

"Wow, somebody thinks very highly of himself." She mumbled, glancing at other things in the room other than Alexander's triumphant face.

"What is wrong with making that offer?" he asked her, his voice suddenly serious.

Meryl snapped her head in his direction, eyes wide and disbelieved. Alexander had indeed become grave with affirmation. If Meryl's heart and head could explode, it should have.

"Are – _are you serious_?!" she exclaimed, denying this.

_He proposed to her! A man has actually proposed to her! _

The worst part is she barely knew him. He was actually very grave, absolutely committed to the idea. Meryl was completely taken off guard by this that it made her get up and walk to the crackling fire place. She placed her hand on the sleek mantle, using it as a crutch to prevent her from crumbling to bits on the oak floor.

"Alexander, this marriage proposal is _very sudden_." She announced gently after the pause.

"I am aware." He stated in a calm tone, expecting her response.

He too got up and joined her side. This time he was closer to her which made her feel nervous. He too placed his hand on the mantle, his fingers almost touching hers. The distance between them was an arm length. He looked straight at her, his body facing her while her body faced the fireplace instead. Her eyes were focused on the dancing flames below, she was intimidated by how he easily disarmed her, of course figuratively speaking.

"Consider me as a possible suitor."

"But Alex-

-Miss Briar." He gently interrupted her by placing his hand on hers which brought Meryl's full attention to him.

His eyes held for a split second a glimmer of torment which was quickly concealed by a warmth and sincerity. Meryl had butterflies in her stomach.

"I understand that my actions are impulsive for a disciplined and meticulous man like myself." He elaborated in a calm yet tentative tone, "I am merely offering myself as a possible suitor and you may do as you wish with me."

Meryl blinked a few times. The wheels in her head slowing turning.

This was too much.

She had trust issues mostly caused by the men she dated and her own personal issues, but it had been amplified by her Marine Corps exposure. She always felt the world was out to get her, even in the 18th century and this proposal or whatever it was, was something that would trap her and fuck her over (and no, not in that way, well actually later on it will). It simply wasn't the time for it, then why the fuck was she doing this?

Right now, she could not see herself settling down just yet, _especially in the 18__th__ century. _

"So, you're basically telling me that you have reserved a spot on my "suitors list"?" Meryl verified with a calm voice.

"The correct term would be _lease_." He added with a cocky smile.

"Oh a lease even? Doesn't that mean you owe me some kind of payment for leasing a spot on my suitor list?"

He flashed her a charming smile which she retaliated with a scoff.

"That charming smile does not count as a payment, Alexander, I know it is a ruse to woo me."

"Someone also thinks highly of themselves."

Meryl gaped and then scowled at him. She huffed and crossed her arms.

"You do realize that I won't go down without a fight."

"I am very well aware of that, Miss Briar." He flashed a perceptive gaze and his smile revealed a cunning expression which put her on the defense. "It will make it all the more _pleasurable_ for me."

"Oh really now." She raised her chin in defiance.

He approached her, their faces almost touching and he looked down with his steady green eyes.

"Yes, I thrive in the thrill of the chase." He breathed, his tone suave and seductive which made Meryl feel quite self-conscious, but she didn't show it.

_Fuuuck! This man was hot. Someone call the firefighters and hose this man down!_

She gave a huff, backed away from him with a confident smile on her face. She walked back to the couch and sat down. Then she indicated a spot on the couch for him to sit.

"Go on, I am curious what methods you will employ to maintain your spot on my suitor list."

It was his turn to flash a cocky smile.

"Oh Miss Briar, do not underestimate my abilities."

"And do not underestimate my ability to undermine yours, _Mr. Leighton_."

They exchanged an almost competitive stare-down until he decided to let go of the mantle above the fireplace and join her side on the couch.

* * *

The plan to shake his interest and shake him off, failed over and over again. Alexander was very insistent and grew more and more eager and stubborn about teasing her and flirting with her. And Meryl had to admit he was very good at it. He made her smile and made her feel great about herself, which every woman loves. His compliments were on point. But many times when she felt he was "winning" she had to take him down a couple of notches. Don't get her wrong, she was guarded and careful around him at least internally, while on the outside she appeared carefree and thrilled of his _abnormal_ interest in her. Maybe as astute as he was, he might have noticed it. She would like to hope that he didn't. She hoped that her random questions and random flirts were distracting enough to keep him oblivious to her motives.

"Miss Briar, you certainly are difficult to decipher, you are making me perspire."

Meryl chuckled with a confident smile.

"That means you went for the easy ones," She added with a dead pan and sassy tone. "Those who melt down to puddles just at the sight of your _dashing good looks_ and _charming smile_."

"Are not you enjoying my appearance as well?"

"Wow, somebody is very self-aware." Meryl chortled.

Then she mockingly rubbed her chin with her fingers as she eyed him from head to toe.

"But _maybe_."

"_Maybe_?" he repeated, with a sly smile. "You are being evasive."

"For the better." She said coyly.

They had finished their tea and pie long ago and it was almost 3 PM. After a pleasant pause, Alexander cleared his throat.

"What qualities do you expect from your possible suitors?"

That question drew Meryl's full attention, but she kept her eyes focused on the tea set in front of her.

"I…don't have any preference or expectations. Whoever comes my way will be the lucky one." She answered truthfully; she was usually very open to the type of men she dated.

"I have a hard time believing that…" Alexander pondered over her words, his eyes meticulously analyzing her words and body language.

Whether it was his 18th century eyes looking at her or the common sense ones, he didn't believe her. It was the 18th century after all, people were more likely to wed within the confines of convenience and safety and only few were lucky to marry for love, uhm, according to what she remembered from high school. Alexander Leighton's rebuttal was understandable but it also gave insight into the narrow minded upper class snobbery. If Alexander knew the men she dated, his posh 18th century heart would not take the horror and that made her smile cockily on the inside.

"That is perfectly reasonable rebuttal. But the moment you let expectations and preferences get in the way, it will ruin your chance to find someone."

"Miss Briar." Alexander cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes averted from her.

For a moment a foreign expression governed his face.

_Oh, she hit a nerve._

_Or he is showing his true colors._

"You treat this subject as something very simple."

"It is."

"_It is not, Miss Briar_." He gently corrected her, his green eyes flashing an embittered glint despite his smile. "It is concept that is too complex to execute."

"I know." Meryl responded back with a stern voice and she pointed to his eyes "You may hide it well in your body language but your eyes tell me you have given up."

Alexander's body froze. His eyes were wide and his jaw slack. He was completely taken off guard as if he had been fully exposed. In the few seconds of his bafflement, a chuckle escaped his lips and he ran his finger through his hair. His charming smile returned and his whole demeanor eased back into his usual casual behavior as if nothing had happened.

"You are very brazen, Miss Briar."

"You mean _perceptive_, Mr. Leighton." She flashed him a smile, her stark grey eyes displaying the seriousness of her words.

It was Alexander's time to chortle.

"Miss Briar, are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Maybe." She replied matter-factly and got up from the sofa and walked to the fire place "I told you I do intimidate people."

"You mean men specifically? Like myself?"

Meryl gave him a miffed look and returned her attention to the logs stacked on the side. She chucked a few logs in.

"Miss Briar, allow me." He quickly got up and was swiftly at her side, he placed his hand on the log she held in her hand.

"_No_, _allow me_." She pulled away the log from him and threw another one in, causing the flames to hiss back at her venomously.

"You would not allow a man to extend his help to a woman?"

"You mean more like _let's see how much I can impress this woman with my gentleman behavior_, so no, I like doing this by myself."

Alexander looked at her with an amused expression. Then he leaned his forearm against the fireplace mantle, so that he could look directly down at her with his frame towering hers. Meryl felt suddenly nervous, this man was…very persistent and very cunning. He was deliberately pushing her buttons, especially by posing like that. She could almost feel his breath against her cheek, as she stood in profile with her eyes cast to the fire.

"Miss Briar." He began with an interested and suave tone, "You may be able to perceive my misery, however do not underestimate my abilities to read yours."

Meryl snapped her eyes to him.

Just in that tiny window of unguarded distraction she suddenly found his lips pressed against hers. Meryl froze.

His left forearm remained rested against the fire place mantle while his right hand had taken a hold of her left hand. His green eyes set ablaze by suppressed passion as they pierced through her stunned grey eyes. He pulled his lips away from hers but still hovered close. His hot breath lashed against her face.

"You enjoy being kept on your toes and most importantly…" his eyes glanced on her lips briefly and his eyes returned to meet hers, "you enjoy men pursuing you."

Meryl's heart constricted. An eruption of a powerful desires coursed through her veins like hot lava.

_Oh fuck_.

Meryl's face immediately hardened and she grasped his face, crushing her lips against his, making him almost lose balance. His soft gasp muffled by her tongue darting into his parted mouth. She kissed him passionately and hard, her tongue dominating his stumped rigidness in his body and in his mouth. Then with a ferocity that required her to break away from the intoxicating pull of arousal and desire she pushed herself away. They both stumbled backwards, a greater distance of several feet separated them now.

Meryl's back came in contact with the wall next to the door. She took a deep breath with a cocky and triumphant smile on her face as she watched the result of her actions ripple through Alexander. He stood there rigid, utterly taken aback. His green eyes were so clouded over with arousal and want that it made it really hard for Meryl not to… continue from where they stopped.

She flicked her tongue over her lips in a very sensual manner, watching Alexander almost charge at her. However, when she noticed him shifting his feet she grabbed for the rope connected to the call bell. She yanked it hard, letting the chime ring all the way down to the kitchen.

"I hope you don't misunderstand about _this_. I can play games too, Mr. Leighton." She noted with a cool confidence and her eyes flashed down at his subtle bulge in his pants, "I will let you and _your friend_ calm down while I go powder my nose. I'll see you at dinner."

She winked at him and left the room.

In the hallway Meryl sped up her pace until she finally reached the sanctuary of her room and plopped down on her bed.

"Fuuuuuuuck me…" she groaned, trying to calm her raging heart beats.

_She was so incredibly aroused! Life was so unfair right now! _

Meryl always had a stellar record of self-control, but since these past several weeks in the 18th century, self-control was gradually and alarmingly eroding away. Why was her body reacting so strongly to this environment?! Yes, Alexander was fucking hot and so was Connor! Both were polar opposite in types, in background, upbringing and status. Alexander teased her by keeping her on her toes while Connor…it was his presence that turned her body and brain to mush. No, she will not admit that she was fawning over both men, she will not give them that satisfaction!

_But fuck!_

_These men were killing her!_


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Hello again! How have y'all been doing? I am doing great, still drowning, but doing pretty good otherwise. The semester is wrapping up slowly, essays, coffee, readings and exams are piling up - BUT I AM OKAY! I've been itching SO BADLY TO WRITE AGAIN AND DIVE BACK INTO THE WORLD OF CONNOR! But, I am gonna have to wait until exams are done before I can get back to this story.**

**Thank you all for your patience with my spotty updates and thank you all for the support XD I will keep telling you this, but it genuinely makes my day knowing that you enjoy the story (and I enjoy writing it too). **

**Take care, have a wonderful weekend and may the coffee and the brain be with you as you brave through the nasty waves of exams and the like. Remember there is an end in sight...Oh my... I think I see - YES! I see Chapter Twenty One waving at you and me at the horizon - it's, it's so beautiful! WE CAN DO THIS! ONWARD CHARGE! **

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

**~ Torn ~**

Dinner with Alexander Leighton was very tense. Of course, Achilles sat with them and Connor was (of course) absent. They sat at a beautiful mahogany dining table that was big enough to welcome at least another ten people. Achilles sat at the head while Alexander sat on his left and Meryl to his right. Meryl thanked the Lord and everybody else for the seating, because she could not trust Alexander from keeping his hands off of her. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating, but that distance was better.

Of course, Alexander played his role as the charming and gallant gentleman at dinner with such proficiency that it made Meryl more guarded about his motives. The kiss was forgotten like the forgotten upstairs parlor. Meryl too did a good job concealing her nervousness in his countenance, but whenever that son of a bitch gave her a lingering gaze her heart almost imploded. His killer green eyes, almost an emerald shade, burned through her leaving her exposed. And whenever he did that she merely sharpened her eyes to a mildly annoyed expression or just returned a neutral stare.

"If you have something to say Mr. Leighton, now would be the time." she politely interjected from across the table, trapping him.

Alexander did not waver at all and pulled an amused smile at her, as he rested his chin over his folded hands, his gaze penetrating her.

"Master Davenport," he addressed Achilles with his full attention then looked at Meryl. "I am very intrigued by your mysterious guest."

"So am I for that matter." Achilles chuckled.

Meryl held back from scowling at Achilles and Alexander, so she forced a grin at them.

"Would you enlighten me about your mysterious guest?" Alexander inquired.

"How so, Master Leighton?"

"Miss Briar has been very aloof about herself."

_That fucker!_

Achilles' raised a quizzical eyebrow which probably was rehearsed since he _knew_ why she couldn't be truthfully about herself. Whether he believed her or not will be determined with how he answers Alexander's question. Achilles released a breath after a sip of his imported Italian wine, his unreadable dark brown eyes surveying both Alexander and Meryl.

"Her father was a family friend of mine. He tragically passed a year ago due to a mishap at the docks in Elizabethtown in New Jersey." Achilles explained somberly with such immaculate recounting that it sounded so real even though he was blatantly lying. "Miss Briar has taken upon herself to help me rebuild my estate and property as thanks for supporting her family during these hard times."

_He is a fucker too! Now she owes some allegiance to him!_

Immediately Alexander displayed how affected he was by looking at Meryl with highest of compassion. It was very genuine from the way his emerald eyes had softened and how his dark auburn eyebrows were scrunched with concern. The sincerity he displayed began to gnaw at Meryl, there it was, guilt.

"Miss Briar, I am very sorry for your loss." He said with a very caring and serious tone. "I deeply apologize for my transgressions."

_I wonder what transgressions he means!_

"Please, don't apologize." Meryl kindly but appreciatively dismissed his apology. "It is…something I do not wish to discuss, hence my reservations on my background."

"I fully understand and respect your sentiments on this subject, Miss Briar. I sincerely apologize if I vexed you with my impertinence."

Meryl just smiled in his direction acknowledging and accepting his apology.

"Do you…have other family?" Alexander asked further.

Meryl shook her head, a sorrow surged from the depths from her heart as she remembered with painful detail her drug addict mom and absentee father.

"Her father was her last surviving relative in North America."

_Jesus Christ!_ This was becoming all too tragic and it intensified Alexander's attention and concern for her. _Fuck_.

"Yep, so I am staying here for an indeterminate time until my _service_ is not required anymore." Meryl supplied with a grin in Achilles direction at the emphasis of _service_, but then she offered Alexander a warm smile. "I am fully enjoying my stay at this wonderful place."

It was true. She was enjoying it despite the secretive shit that was going on behind Connor and Achilles. Ingrid, Marie, Hanna and now Kazuma gave her a reason to stay and enjoy this life in the 18th century.

"Forgive me for bringing this to attention, what is the origin of Miss Briar's dialect, Master Davenport?" Alexander astutely questioned which did throw Meryl and Achilles off their feet, but Meryl quickly retaliated.

"What is wrong with my _dialect_, Mr. Leighton?" she said through clenched teeth.

"Nn-nothing! There is nothing wrong with your dialect, Miss Briar! It-it is in fact quite delightful!" Alexander clumsily stammered. "I am merely curious of its origin."

"Her family is of Scottish ancestry, but her upbringing with different languages and cultures such as the Dutch, Irish and English have probably influenced her dialect. It isn't an uncommon development, is it not, Master Leighton?"

"Certainly not, not an uncommon trait of the colonies."

Alexander's voice had a mild sourness and distance at the mention of "colonies". There we go again being all British and elitist. Meryl tried not to lash at him for having that elitist tone, but she told herself that it was his upbringing that taught him to speak like that.

_Maybe a taste of some nice old America would change his mind_.

As she thought of that Connor's face flashed in front of her eyes. Her air pipes constricted and she almost choked on the bread she had been chewing on.

"Miss Briar, are you all right?" Alexander almost jumped out of his seat with worry, but she waved her index finger at him to stop him from getting up from his seat.

She took a gulp from her wine and let it wash down. Then she smiled in both Achilles and Alexander's direction.

"I am fine." She reassured them, but felt a strong need to leave the dinner table to clear her head. "But I might have spilled my wine on my dress. May I be excused, just for a little?"

They both nodded, but she felt Alexander's eyes lingering on her, reading her or checking whether he had offended her _again_. Maybe he did. She did not pay attention to him or Achilles and left the room swiftly, taking the other way around to the kitchen. She entered the kitchen and found all the ladies sitting at the table sipping on some tea. Marie spotted her first, her round creamy brown eyes wide.

"Oh hun?" Marie noted with a mix of surprise and concern. "Are ya alright?"

"Yup." Meryl closed the door behind her and exhaled a deep breath.

"Is he treating you right, Schatz?" Ingrid asked.

Meryl waved at them frantically to shut the fuck up.

"_He is in the other room you know_!"

Meryl came over her palms resting on the table and seeing the grinning faces of Ingrid and Marie synching together. Marie placed her hand on Meryl's resting hand with an eager and pushy expression.

"So, did somethin' happen?"

"He kissed me." Meryl answered dead pan which earned her a loud round of gasps from the horrified Ingrid and Hanna and a muffled chuckle from Marie.

"_Psh! I kissed him back too_." Meryl hissed at them, warning them to keep their voices down.

Now all domestics had become speechless. They were shocked, surprised and perplexed by what happened.

"He took advantage of my unguarded state, so I took advantage of his."

Ingrid looked like she had seen the devil spawn right in front of her. She grasped her rosary until her knuckles turned white, mouthing silently some prayer to ward of some evil spirit or Satan or something like that. Hanna was shocked, but not as intense as Ingrid, but enough to make her question the morality of Meryl's decisions. However, Marie was like the Cheshire cat grinning from ear to ear, thoroughly relishing Meryl's brutal honesty and youthful impulsive nature.

"Ingrid, for Christ sake, stop looking at me like I summoned the devil."

Ingrid narrowed her eyes with a scowl.

"These actions are not becoming of a woman, Schatz."

"I know, Ingrid and I am sorry to disappoint you," Meryl told her directly with a grave expression, removing the humor in this situation as she lowered her voice. "He is _very _persistent which makes me a little suspicious of him. I don't trust him, I am testing him or challenging him. You might not agree with my methods, but this is the only way."

_It would lead to dating, but even that made Meryl a little hesitant. _

Even for her standard which were either non-existent or very low, he was moving a little too fast for an 18th century man. At least according to literature she read in the past or movies that she watched, this era usually had a lengthy courting, wooing period. But Alexander was different from what she expected. Was it normal?

"But my question here, is his behavior common or uncommon?" Meryl looked at Ingrid and Marie.

"Usually men of higher standing are more restrained or more careful of their actions." Ingrid said in a numb voice, slowly recovering from the shock. "However, there are always exceptions."

Meryl looked at Marie and she just shrugged.

"Hun, you are looking at the wrong person."

Meryl and Marie shared a laugh. As the merry atmosphere returned, Meryl cleared her throat.

"I need to go to the outhouse. Can somebody take off this wooden contraption under my dress?"

Ingrid and Marie laughed and they got up. They hoisted the dress up and removed the wooden inverted umbrella thing from her waist.

"Didn't Connor say we should stay inside?" Hanna's voice suddenly spoke out and all women looked at her with confusion.

"What for, hun?"

Meryl groaned and smacked her palm against her forehead.

"The _bear_."

Ingrid and Marie's face hardened with graveness.

"Schatz you better use the chamber pot, we will-

-_Hell no!"_ Meryl snarled with vehemence. "I am not going to take a piss or shit in that thing!"

Ingrid covered her mouth, glancing at the other door leading to the dining area and then she returned a scowl at Meryl.

"Do not speak in such a foul tongue, Miss Briar."

"Let me go and I won't talk like that." Meryl challenged her. "It is just a few feet away from the house and I can fight."

Ingrid looked at her sternly, not wanting to risk it. Then she saw Marie and Hanna taking her side which made Meryl groan with defeat.

"_Fiiine_ then."

Meryl hoisted her dress and left the kitchen to go upstairs to _do her business._

* * *

Meryl returned downstairs after having her wooden contraption fitted back under her dress. She stopped short before the doorway leading into the dining area. She leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. It was like walking back into the lion's den. Meryl had to admit she was a little intimidated by the intense attention she was getting from Alexander, but on the other hand it was her fault. Her kiss probably had spurned him on and possibly given him some foolish hope. She sighed. At least from her experience 21st century men tended to be more wary of Meryl's kind. She really didn't want to go back inside just yet.

Then something caught her eye and she made a move to the main entrance.

She stepped out of the manor closing the door behind her. Meryl stood on the porch which was illuminated by flickering lamps above the door. Beyond the porch a dense darkness hung that even the occasional pockets of light pouring out from the windows could not illuminate. There was a stillness to the night which made Meryl very acute to her surroundings.

She had stepped out because she had seen a shadow through the window from Achilles study. Meryl moved to the right of the porch squinting her eyes to look at the snow covered ground. She grabbed her dress, lifting it high enough for it not to touch the snow covered ground. Luckily the ground had frozen over, making it just a "little easier" for her to walk on it. Even though the light was dim, she did see some tracks. As she treaded very carefully, her body and blood froze when she inspected the large fresh tracks.

Suddenly, she heard a snort and heavy crunching and cracking of iced snow.

Her body snapped up and she stopped breathing. A mix of grunting and snorting grew closer and louder until it stopped behind the corner of the manor. Meryl's breath came out in a shudder, the steam evaporating from her trembling lips. She had to move back to the porch and very slowly.

She took a step back and another, very gingerly, but a loud misstep followed by her hissing a curse prompted the large head of a brown bear to peek from beyond the corner. The beady dark eyes attached to the gigantic head stared through her, shattering her confidence and obliterating all her rationality. It wiggled its snout, snorting and grunting, the vapor escaping his moist nose. It began to move around the corner and stopped when he was a good 10 feet away from her. In the dimly lit surroundings this bear had maybe a dark pelt, tall ears, a short snout with a straight profile and no visible shoulder hump. It was 5 feet long and maybe 300 pounds heavy. Meryl released a shuddering breath of partial relief, when she analyzed what type of bear it was.

"A black bear, not a grizzly…Thank God." She mumbled to herself, now growing a glare towards the black bear.

She dropped her dress and raised her arms high above her head to make herself look big.

"_Get a move on fatass_!" she shouted and clapped her hands, smacked the wall and made obnoxious sounds.

The black bear's ears folded back, its body tense and eyes narrowing with defense or intent of attacking. Meryl continued with the sounds with the volume escalating louder and louder until she took a deep breath. Then as she grounded her body, her eyes dead set on the bear and fists clenched, she unleashed from the deepest and darkest part of herself the loudest soul-tearing scream. Her scream rung so loud and clear that it echoed through the Homestead and rattled through the Davenport manor. The bear backed with its ears folded back.

"Miss Briar!"

Within a few seconds Alexander had appeared at the porch, his chest heaving with urgency, his eyes wide with concern then with shock. He leaped to Meryl's rescue with his flintlock pistol drawn. The other domestics had ran out onto the porch shrieking with terror. He yanked Meryl behind him as he stood there his pistol drawn and cocked. Without hesitation he pulled the trigger, the scrape of flint followed by an explosion of flash and smoke thundered from the muzzle.

The bear screeched and cried in pain. The bear made a drastic turn in the opposite direction, limping off into the darkness of the forest.

"Miss Briar!" Alexander ran to Meryl's side, his face sweaty and pale with concern as he pulled her up and laced his arm around her waist. "Are you injured?"

His eyes scanned her body and his hand tilted her face to both sides to check her for injuries.

Then from another direction a loud scrunching of footsteps sounded from beyond the low stone wall surrounding the Davenport manor. Alexander refilled his pistol quickly and cocked it, aiming at the nearing sound. However, as the sound grew closer and more distinct, Meryl gently lowered his pistol when Connor came running up, hopping effortlessly over the stone wall and running up the stairs to the porch. .

"What happened?" Connor demanded, but when he took note of Meryl's pallid expression and lethargic body his face tightened with concern. "Is she injured?"

Alexander shook his head, then alarmingly extended his arm in the direction of the fleeing bear.

"It went in that direction!" Barked Alexander, still high strung with adrenaline and worry for Meryl. "Make haste! Kill him before he injures someone else!"

Connor gave a firm nod, his eyes lingering briefly on Meryl's face then he hardened his face and pulled out his hatchet and sprinted in the direction. The icy surface of the snow cracked and groaned with every heavy stride he took as he bounded and jumped over obstacles effortlessly until he vanished into the darkness of the forest.

Meryl watched on, mesmerized by Connor's run. There was something so predatorial and inelegant about his gait yet when he dashed through the area he looked like a cheetah, building momentum to catch his prey. It made the hairs on her back stick up.

In her fazed state Meryl was ushered back into the manor and immediately changed into her casual dark neutral blue dress without that nonsensical wooden umbrella under her dress. Then she was brought to the kitchen where she was served some sweets, pastries and the like with some strong tea.

Now she was seated in the kitchen and it was possibly early morning. They were alone in the kitchen, she and Alexander. He had placed a shawl on her shoulder and was sitting at her side, on the same bench. Kazuma had found his resting place on her lap.

"You adopted a black wolf?" Alexander asked her calmly.

Meryl smiled at Kazuma and nodded. She felt a little self-conscious as Alexander was sitting a little too close to her. She could almost feel the heat from his thigh touching hers.

"I saved him from freezing to death. And who could resist that little ball of cuteness?" She said and cooed at the last bit as she rubbed his head with an eager hand.

Alexander petted the animal and he had acquired a smile when Kazuma yapped excitedly at the guest's attention towards him.

"Does it have a name?"

"It is a _he_ and yes, his name is _Kazuma_."

"What a peculiar name…"

"It is, but it suits him." She said as she raised him to her eye level.

Kazuma gave Meryl's nose a lick and she giggled. She brought him closer and almost snuggled him to death. Kazuma gave a yap of protest and wiggled himself out of her grip. She placed him back on the ground and he trotted over to his food bowl and water.

"Will you stay here, for the night?" Meryl asked after a pause, her eyes focused on Kazuma's wagging tail.

"I have no choice, unless you wish me to become the bear's next meal."

Meryl for the first time looked at him with an unimpressed expression which he returned with an amused grin.

"Mr. Leighton don't flatter yourself, you have not reached that level of annoyance, yet."

"Are you sure? You certainly have given me that impression."

Meryl rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Look, if I really can't stand a person I will make it _fucking obvious_ and I will go out of my way to avoid this person."

"Is that why you haven't responded to my letters?" he promptly stated with a fake hurt expression.

Meryl groaned.

"Are you really interested in my chicken scratch of a handwriting?"

"That is your _only reason_ for not responding to me?" he said, slightly taken aback but also partially relieved and amused.

"I never received a letter from a man, okay? Especially not in such beautiful handwriting." She grumbled and crossed her arms.

"I am puzzled by your pessimistic view of gentlemen, Miss Briar."

"No shit."

Alexander cleared his throat.

"Allow me to be your first."

Meryl snapped her attention at him, as if she misheard him.

"What?"

Alexander chuckled.

"Allow me to prove to you how unworthy they were to have you."

Meryl chortled.

"Now that is a _very tall _order." She sipped from her tea.

For some stupid reason her mind dwelled on sex, probably because she was sex deprived or something. She was piqued by the direction of the conversation, so she decided to play along.

"Does that apply to all _departments_?" she said, eyeing him as she placed her tea back on the saucer.

Alexander of course caught along with the purpose and tone of the conversation. Jesus, they were too like-minded.

"Yes, in all of them." He responded straightforwardly, resting his forearms on the table and lowering his head to her level so that his eyes pierced hers.

Meryl folded her arms over the table.

"I am a woman that is very difficult to _please."_ She stated blatantly, keeping eye contact with him and emphasizing the last word in a suggestive tone.

His face lowered and stopped just a few inches in front of her face. His green eyes searing through hers with an irresistible cocky gaze.

"I am very difficult to _please_ as well, Miss Briar."

Her heart jumped to her throat and her face turned hot, she felt the blush rising in her cheeks and she briskly turned away.

"_Son of bitch."_ She barked to herself and blushed even more when she heard him chuckle in his suave like manner.

"I can apply the same methods of seduction, Miss Briar."

Meryl snapped her head in his direction, forgetting why she had turned away from him in the first place.

"Methods of seduction? PAH!" she scoffed and when she met his growing grin as he had seen the result of his strategy on her face, she barked at him. "Will you stop _looking and doing _that!"

Meryl gesticulated at his face which he responded with a chuckle.

"You are such a delightful tease."

Meryl growled.

"F-fuck you!"

"As long as you are part of the process, I would not mind."

It was Meryl's turn to be stunned. She gaped at him with her eyes wide. Her body remembered to breath and she snorted. She scooted further down the bench, showing some discomfort while annoyance for her chickening out now.

"Okay, wow, this was _unexpected._"

"It is not, Miss Briar."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" she snarled.

"_Fucking_ is a natural, integral part of a relationship, is it not?"

"It is." She said through clenched teeth.

"Hence there is nothing wrong with admitting to the need to quench one's thirst."

"Unless that it the sole aspect you seek in a relationship." Meryl responded now with a sober and grave tone, turning her eyes away from him.

"No!" he exclaimed impulsively and grabbed her hand, holding it tightly.

Her eyes fell on his hand, then wandered to his face etched with a sincerity that Meryl hadn't encountered in such a long time. His green eyes were stark with a mix of torment, desperation and commitment.

"No." he resumed with an earnest tone. "I want – I desire your mind, your soul and your body – all of you."

Meryl was so taken aback by his words that she remained speechless.

_This was a lie._

_Nobody has ever said this to her._

_Nobody has shown her this degree of care for her._

She gasped when she felt his finger underneath her chin. He raised her chin so that their eyes met. Her lower body squirmed at the sight of his glimmering green eyes which had become heavier the longer they looked at each other.

"Alex…" she breathed, his lips hovering in front of hers.

"Oh I adore how you say my name…" he breathed, his eyes lingering on her lips.

He gently rubbed his thumb over her lower lip, feeling her shuddering breath against it. He placed his lips against hers, moving against them slowly and gingerly. Meryl's heart expanded and the tingling in the pit of her stomach grew. He moved closer and wrapped his hand behind her neck to bring her closer. The tingling intensified when he deepened the kiss. Meryl felt powerless.

She never, ever lost control.

She always, ALWAYS was in control, but now, he was.

_But fuck he was a good kisser!_

Meryl threw her arms around him, bringing him even closer which gave her tongue access to the depth of his mouth which he eagerly responded to.

"_This_ doesn't mean anything." She broke away, to look at him with annoyance, but he yanked her back in the kiss.

He chuckled in the kiss and pulled back.

"You are relishing this…as much as I do, Miss Briar." He panted, displaying a cocky smile.

"This does not mean we are in a relationship, Alexander." She told him, sobering up to her words.

Alexander shrugged off her words, still holding onto her.

"Yet we find ourselves kissing and touching each other like lovers."

After a pause where he stared through her eyes, his eyes grew grave, the passion simmering in his green fiery eyes.

"Come with me to my chamber."

Meryl's jaw grew slack.

"_What_?!"

He held her by the shoulders, his fiery green eyes pleading her.

"_Come with me_." He urged her.

"Dear God Alex. Are you- are you serious?!" she exclaimed in a whisper, fearing that the others would hear them.

She untangled herself from his hands and stood up from the bench, taking a few steps back to give space.

"This is going way too fast for my liking, Alexander." Her guard was up which was strange since she didn't care for one night stands or a quickie, but this…this was something different.

"You _still_ question the sincerity of my words and of my emotions?" he questioned her with incredulity, his voice and facial expression affected and hurt by the suspicion and distrust she displayed.

"I warned you, Alex. I told you over and over that I would be difficult to deal with… I come with a lot of emotional baggage." She whispered, also affected by his reaction and her own words. "And… I barely know you and I can't drop my guard down and allow this intimacy to take place when I am not ready for it."

Alexander's body was rigid. He looked at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly parted and some color had left his face.

"I thought a man of your upbringing would, you know, be different."

Alexander abruptly got up, rattling the table and the tea cups on the table when he got up from the bench.

"_I am no different from any passionate man_!" he protested with reproach. "Decorum and titles are for appearance, nothing more! They do not matter!"

He was wrong. Appearance and reputation mattered so much, especially in this world. As far as she could tell, the 18th century was a class society still and each class kept to themselves. Meryl did not give a shit about all this, yet for some reason she found herself concerned about this. Maybe the thought of their relationship drawing too much attention to her was the reason. For now, she sure as hell was not going to sleep with him.

"Your advances have been very ungentlemanly. I am not a common whore that you can sleep around with whenever you please, Mr. Leighton." She interjected curtly. "While I am flattered by your interest in me and yes I know we did kiss – a level of trust has to be established. The fact that _all of this _is coming across as rushed and pushy makes me very suspicious of your motives. I may have slept with men after just one night, but their intentions were clear, but yours…I am not sure."

Alexander looked like he was punched in the gut, but his face remained solemn and his lips were tightly shut almost turning white with tension.

"Miss Briar… you are not without blame." He countered in a quiet and steady voice, "You are more elusive than I. You resist my advances bitterly then you welcome them and then you resist them again. I am utterly baffled by your intentions."

"Live in my shoes and you would understand!" She snapped at him then grabbed Kazuma into her arms and walked towards the door. "Good night, Mr. Leighton."

She left the kitchen with a slam of the door.

"Son of a bitch." She grumbled to herself.

She felt her eyes moisten from the turbulence of emotions she felt towards herself and Alexander. Did she even like him? She enjoyed being kissed by him, but the idea of him sleeping with her was…too much for her. All this was going too fast right now. Normally she wouldn't give two shits about this and just impulsively go with it, but now something was holding her back. Something inside her anchored her to the ground, was it reason? Was it a conscience? What the fuck was it?

_And why was she feeling this way?_

She woke up from her personal torment when she saw the entrance door handle move. The door creaked open and Connor's towering frame entered the manor. He appeared surprised to meet her right at the bottom of the stairs. Meryl looked down on his clothes, seeing the blood spatter on his abdomen and on the cuffs of his sleeves. Her heart squeezed.

"Are you injured?" she asked him immediately.

He tightened his jaw, averted his gaze for a moment and cleared his throat.

"I am fine. The bear is dead."

"Good." Meryl responded with a sigh of relief. "Thank God it was a black bear and not a Grizzly, I mean brown bear."

"Yes…"

There was a weird and tense pause between them. She had her attention divided between the wiggling Kazuma and the peeling tapestry in the corner of the wall. She felt his gaze one her.

"Are you all right?" Connor inquired in earnest as he studied her face carefully and zeroed on her eyes. "You seem still affected…"

Meryl blinked at few times, struck by how observant and straight forward he was. The bear thing was forgotten but if he could spot her looking like shit that meant she had become too readable and that Alexander had the ability to do that to her. The feelings that Alexander had provoked within her rose again with a ferocity like a tidal wave. She felt her eyes prickling with tears that she had a hard time suppressing. She averted her gaze quickly, taking a deep breath. It made her happy that he asked about her well-being. She chewed on her lips that had been kissed.

"I am fine, thank you." She replied calmly, although her voice grew to a whisper which she quickly cleared. "The most important part is that you are alive and uninjured. Anyway, I will head upstairs to bed now. I wish you a good night."

With her eyes lowered she turned away from him and ascended the stairs, the warm tears flowing down her cold cheeks like melted water carving its way through a glacier.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

**So, uhm, hi... Yeahhhhh, here's another chapter since apparently I rather work on my fanfic than study and write papers for the end of the semester . Anyway, it helps me to relax and no I am not procrastinating, I am simply suspending reality for a little...**

**Thank you all again for the support and reviews :D I hope you have a wonderful weekend and good luck for those who have exams and other stuff going on. **

**Oki byyyyyyyyyyyyyyye~**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE**

**The price of being stubborn**

Meryl woke up in a better mood. She checked if her door had been messed with, nope it was still locked and untampered. The last thing she wanted was to wake up next to Alexander. _Okay, Alexander would not do that but the way he looked at her and kissed her, it was better be safe than sorry. _

She left her room dressed in her casual neutral blue dress with Kazuma trotting at her heels. She scooped her pet wolf into her arms and headed downstairs for the kitchen. As usual Marie had tried to coax out some juicy info, but that failed because Meryl was not in a mood and made it very clear to Marie. Marie respected her wishes, albeit grudgingly.

Meryl was in no mood to deal with _any _shit. She made up her mind last night that she will sort this thing out with Alexander, meaning that she will clarify her intentions towards him. However, when she met him at the bottom of the stairs with his elegant gait, his slender and tall frame, dashing smile, she wavered.

_Fuck him and his looks! _

"A very Good morning to you, Miss Briar." He greeted her, his green eyes held that damn knowing glimmer from all the events that had transpired yesterday. "I hope you are well rested?"

She gave him a forced smile.

"Somebody looked like he had an _enjoyable _sleep."

"Oh, I certainly did, Miss Briar." He stepped closer, looking down into her eyes with that confidence that was infectious and also very alluring.

"Oh! Good morning, Master." Ingrid came out of Achilles' study, surprised of meeting both Meryl and Alexander, together, at the stairs. "Breakfast shall be served very shortly – if you wish you can sit in Master Davenport's study until everything is prepared?"

"Yes, please." Alexander supplied with a smile, deftly setting a trap to contain her.

He offered his arm at Meryl in the presence of Ingrid.

_Fuck._

Rejecting him would earn her a slap from Ingrid or something like that aaaand Ingrid has taught her about customs and manners around here. She looked at his arm then at his conservative smile which had traces of triumph and confidence in it. Meryl linked her arm around his and allowed him to guide her to the upholstered seat next to the fire.

"I'll bring some tea while you wait." Chirped Ingrid, her eagerness and excitement rendering her cheeks flushed.

She left the room quickly.

"That was very, very cunning of you." Meryl added with a sigh, showing her mildly annoyed expression.

"I do not know what you are suggesting, Miss Briar." He replied innocently with a smile, those damn green eyes maintaining that triumph.

Meryl chuckled at him and she looked into the flames of the fire. She took a deep steady breath as if emptying her body of all emotions that she felt towards him. Alexander kindly enough allowed a pause to settle between them. He too was momentarily captured by the mesmerizing dance of the flames. His face had become relaxed and a graveness took over his features. They sat next to each other in two seats, separated by an arm's length.

"Miss Briar…" he began in a calm and partially detached voice. "I must apologize for last night..."

"I… I should apologize too." She stammered.

Alexander immediately perked up to her response, his green eyes looking at her.

"No! Miss Briar, you mustn't." he defended her with a sincerity in his face that she had never seen before. "It is I who must apologize for my immoral actions - it was very unbecoming of a gentleman of my standing."

_Well, yes, it was._

But it was kind of nice to see him apologetic and guilty about his actions.

"I am still sorry that I led you on like this." She expressed in all honesty because it was true, she felt she went overboard.

Men of the 21st century liked forwardness in women and maybe 18th century men liked more restraint. She really didn't want to raise his hopes, even though he was a _fucking hot man_. She felt she needed to explain herself.

"I was not raised with much, uhm, manners and decorum, whatever you call it. So, uhm, I am not so familiar with _your courting customs_ or how to deal with your _type_."

Alexander surveyed her with a raised eyebrow.

"Have you never encountered a man of my standing before?"

Meryl froze, realizing what she had just revealed about herself. She snorted to cover up her faux pas.

"Psh, Alex, don't make it sound like I never met your kind, please and no you are not the first one to have crossed my path. What I meant – and I am sure you are very familiar with this – is how society's discourages any interaction or direct relationships with anybody of higher or lower status."

Alexander cracked a small smile, the amusement glinting in his green eyes.

"This is America," he directly responded back without hesitation, keeping firm eye contact with her. "Status matters less than on the continent."

Meryl's heart squeeze.

"Well… isn't it normal that men of your standing don't go for women of no social status?" she added, her eyes still lowered to her folded hands as she fumbled with them and she chewed on her bottom lip. "That's why I - I am politely suggesting to you to look elsewhere, for a more suitable woman. Believe me, you do not want to be with me."

Alexander opened and closed his mouth, averting his gaze momentarily then returning back to her ready to argue.

"We are having this discussion again?" he repeated with incredulity.

"Alex, please listen to me." She interjected with a seriousness that caught Alexander off guard. "Ingrid, Marie, I mean the domestics and of course Achilles have told me about you."

"What have they said about me?"

"Your background, Mr. Leighton, or should I say Sir Leighton of Cornwall."

Ingrid and Achilles had enlightened her about Alexander's upbringing. This dude was serious business, his role in the tea industry, specifically with the East India Company, it was no joking matter. He held an important role in the North American colonies, ensuring and maintaining the tea trade in the colonies. Of course, like many adventurous entrepreneurs of 18th century Europe Alexander wanted to pave his own path regardless of his background. He started from the bottom and climbed all the way up, spiting in the face of his influential family. He was tired of living in his father's shadow or the family's shadow. This man truly was the early vision of the American Dream, starting with nothing and rising to prominence on his own two feet and even helping the notorious East India Company establish proper roots in the North American colonies. She was in awe of such men and Alexander was no exception. However, she fully understood why 18th century society kept these classes apart, a stellar background and reputation can be easily destroyed by foolish actions like getting married to Meryl.

Alexander didn't even care, he treated it as unimportant and inconsequential information.

"What of it?" he responded with disregard.

"That is the problem, Sir Leighton. I have been told how important you and your father are in the court of King George."

"What does it matter?" he scoffed curtly.

Meryl took another deep breath, memories swirling in her mind of her Marine days.

"I understand with all my being what reputation means to a person and how it can affect a group of people." She stated with unwavering eye contact towards Alexander's growingly confused green eyes "While I did not grow up as an aristocrat I understand what life is like being burdened with upholding one's reputation. So, please, _please_, reconsider who you are asking your hand in marriage to."

Her grey eyes pierced him with a directness and somberness that he probably never saw in a woman before. It appeared that he learned something new through her words that she really was _very different _fromthe women he met. Meryl saw that transformation happening in his features, the amusement went away and was replaced by a distant and guarded look. He did not distrust her, it was more like being on guard, as if somebody had touched a very sensitive and personal matter.

"Miss Briar…"

His still voice drew her full attention.

"_Who_ are you?" his inquiring green eyes sharpened.

Meryl's heart throbbed. He eyed her carefully.

"Miss Briar, your words... You speak of truth and experience…" he leaned in, scrutinizing her carefully "What has happened to you for you to speak these words?"

In spite of herself, she gave him an ironic smile.

"I cannot tell you."

"Why not? Do you not trust me?"

She shook her head.

"When I come to terms with my life, maybe I will share, but for now I want to keep it in my heart." She explained to him, her sharp grey eyes also scanning his face. "You too are harboring torment."

Alexander's body stiffened and then he scoffed with a rebuttal, smiling at her.

"Miss Briar, human beings have fallacies: torment is one of them."

Meryl looked at him in earnest.

"Your manners, body language, voice and facial expressions may hide it, but your eyes tell me otherwise… I have seen and felt torment, I have seen people being tortured by it and being driven mad by it."

He leaned back into his seat. He looked vulnerable but also taken aback by her words.

"Two tormented souls…" he sighed, "There is no better match."

Meryl shook her head slowly, her eyes lowered down to the fire.

"You don't want to go there, believe me, Alexander." She spoke gravely, "These kind of relationships lead to abuse. When both parties bring their emotional baggage, there is no comfort there, but pain and anguish…"

Alexander grabbed her hand, holding it with a light squeeze making Meryl's heart hammer.

"Why have you resigned yourself to misery?" his voice came out in a hushed whisper, deeply affected.

Meryl froze. His words striking her at the core of her being. Was that true?

Alexander grasped both her hands in his and brought them close to his mouth. His fiery green eyes glimmering against the fire and cutting through her body, puncturing through the walls she had erected.

"I can mend all your miseries." He declared with a fervor, planting a firm kiss on her hands while his eyes stared through her. "I promise to protect you from all the harm in the world, to cherish you for the rest of my life."

Meryl's mouth was parted and she was stunned. She was utterly taken aback by the passion she saw in his eyes and in his speech. It was sad to think that he was the first man who had spoken to her with the directness of his feelings.

"Alex, I…"

Her voice died down when he squeezed her hands and he planted another kiss on them. A heavy atmosphere hung over them and they both went quiet. Meryl had withdrawn her hands.

"Miss Briar, I must-

"Oh Connor! What are you doing here in the hallway?" Ingrid's loud voice sent a jolt through both Meryl and Alexander. "Do you wish to speak to them?"

Ingrid appeared at the doorway with her tray in hand walking gleefully into Achilles' study while Connor stopped at a safe distance at the doorway, shifting his gaze about and correcting his body language from being caught red handed.

Meryl caught his eye but he looked away, she felt her insides coil in guilt and self-hate, as if she too was caught red handed. _He…He heard everything_.

"I wanted to inform you that the bear has been taken care of." Connor announced, his expression neutral.

"Splendid." Alexander smiled and resumed with his usual tone and behavior. "Was it a quick kill?"

Connor nodded.

"The bear had sustained a grave injury to the head. I put him out of his misery."

"I see. What will you do of the fur and meat?" Alexander inquired.

"You needn't worry, Master Leighton." Achilles raspy voice called as he limped into the doorway. "We have everything sorted. However, I must have a word with you. Ingrid can you escort Miss Briar out of the room, please?"

Ingrid stammered and nodded. She placed the tray down on the coffee table nearby and she ushered Meryl out of the room while Connor followed suit. When they entered the kitchen, Meryl could breathe again.

"Thank you for getting me out of there." Meryl sighed deeply and she plopped down on the bench, rubbing her fingers against her tired eyes.

The door closed behind them. A wave of shivers went down her spine when she felt Connor's lumbering figure enter the kitchen with them. Marie and Hanna weren't in the kitchen thankfully. Ingrid had instructed them to go to the docks to check on some shipment of supplies.

"Ingrid, please give me some liquor."

"What? So early in the morning, Schatz?!"

Meryl looked at her pleadingly.

"He just dumped all his feelings on me plus a marriage proposal – so yea, I need a pint _now_." Meryl stated unabashedly, her eyes buried in her fingers while her propped up elbow became a crutch to her exhausted body.

Slowly after being stunned, Ingrid conceded and brought a glass and poured her some wine. She also placed a cup of tea on the side.

"I shall make the finishing preparations for breakfast." Ingrid supplied, grabbing a bunch of dishes and silverware and she left the kitchen.

Now both Meryl and Connor were left in the kitchen. His hovering and silent presence sometimes made him invisible and forgotten in the room, but Meryl always sensed him. He stood far behind her, maybe even leaning against the door and maybe glaring holes through her back. She knew he was staring at her, maybe with judgment, anger or disapproval, whatever it was. He shifted on one foot then the other and then made his way across to the backdoor of the kitchen.

"Where do you think you are going?" blurted Meryl, her eyes still buried in her rubbing fingers.

"Down to the docks. Marie and Hanna need my help."

He grabbed for the door handle but Meryl got up so loudly and roughly, knocking over with a clink the tea cup.

"If you move one muscle I will _break your fucking fingers_." She hissed in a low voice.

Connor stopped in his movements and turned around towards her trembling frame.

"You heard everything?"

"I don't-

-Stop lying!" she interjected harshly rendering him immobile but also more guarded. "Tell me, you heard everything?"

Her stark grey eyes glaring at his aloof chestnut eyes. She walked over to him, facing him.

"You couldn't help yourself or Achilles but to eavesdrop on this private conversation?"

Connor averted his eyes, which enraged her even more.

"_Look at me when you are talking to me!_" she snapped in anger, keeping her voice lowered.

Connor returned his gaze at her.

"I am tired of you snooping on my conversations, going through my things – oh don't pretend that I haven't noticed you tampering with my things – and you listening to my conversations! Tell me why Connor?"

Meryl saw Connor's lips move and twitch, but his chest heaved more than it should.

"Achilles made it clear to you and me and the rest that there was no more need for this, snooping and sneaking around." She challenged him, moving closer to him so that he was cornered with his back against the back door. "You can't even trust your own mentor's words. So, I personally ask, no, beg you why are you doing this?"

Connor's body was guarded and not threatened yet his lips looked taut and his jaw subtle moved from side to side as if grinding his teeth. She saw something brewing in his chestnut eyes. Her chest heaved in sync like Connor's with many intense emotions. She grew quiet. She had to risk it, she had to clear the air.

"The way you look at me... I always feel your eyes on me." She said softly, looking him straight in the eyes. "If you disapproved of everything that had happened in the parlor upstairs or in the kitchen or even now in Achilles study – you should have said something or intervened."

Connor's entire being froze, all emotions, everything went blank in his face and his eyes.

Then a powerful wave of tension seized him. The ferocity of that tension gave him tunnel vision. He grabbed Meryl by the shoulders making her gasp at the surprise and tightness of his grip and he pushed her aside. He walked away without looking back, storming out into the hallway.

Meryl stood there stunned for a moment.

After recovering from that shove she walked to the door that was just open by a split. She peeked out onto the hallway, seeing Connor's bulky frame standing and ready to implode.

"Achilles." He called with a firm and insisting tone.

"Yes, Connor, what is it?" Achilles voice called from the inside of his study. "Excuse me, Master Leighton."

She heard him limping from inside the room and joining Connor's side.

"What is wrong, boy?"

"I need to see my people."

"What? So suddenly? Have you not visited them recently?" Achilles inquired, very baffled of Connor's sudden declaration.

"I _need _to see them." Connor reiterated with much conviction, his chest heaving with a restlessness that Achilles took careful note of.

After scanning Connor, Achilles sighed with defeat.

"When should we expect your return?"

"Early spring."

"That is 3 months away!"

"I know…" Connor took a deep steady breath, "I…I need time…"

Connor didn't have to finish his sentence because Achilles read his troubled state or understood the _other _implications of his words. Achilles gave him a pat of the shoulder, a sign of approval.

"Do whatever you must. The doors are always open."

Connor gave him a nod and exited the manor without looking back.

* * *

Breakfast was okay. Misery craftily hid behind her smiles, chuckles and casual demeanor. Oh Mr. Leighton did keep her on her toes all right. His heart-stopping lingering gazes across the table did wonders to his strategy to secure her. Whenever he did it too often, she would return a forced smile. He would scrounge up his lips, holding back from chuckling at her grimaces.

There was a lot of discussion going on about worldly politics and other things, but Meryl was too zoned out to give a shit. She was feeling a mix of emotions, anger for Connor's lack of response and now he was gone. However, underneath that confusion she felt a sense of relief and even triumph that she brought this out to the open. She wasn't an oblivious and naïve teenager but a grown adult woman with an abnormally heightened awareness for her surroundings. Not many things slipped her sight and Connor's gaze, his ever watching eyes and even the tension in his body was obvious. Now whether he was interested in her or simply very unfamiliar with women is still something that has to be worked through. Connor rejected her. Now whether he meant it directly in response to how he feels for her or if he was thrown off guard is also a matter that needs to be clarified. Judging from how busy his life was and how committed he was to his tasks for Achilles, he probably did not welcome the distraction. She saw the struggle in his body language and most importantly in his eyes, whether to trust her, to like her and even allow her in his comfort zone.

Sigh.

It will take her a few weeks to get over herself and the disappointment from the rejection, but life had to go on. She won't be the weak sobbing love-struck damsel Meryl of the past. If the one thing that being a Marine taught her was to get over things quickly and immediately seize the opportunity to distract herself by constantly improving on herself and her surroundings.

"My dear, are you all right?" inquired Achilles' raspy voice which promptly drew her full attention.

Meryl snapped out of her deep thoughts, realizing they had moved back into Achilles' study and were seated around the fireplace.

"You have been very pensive, Miss Briar. Are you troubled?" inquired Alexander with concern.

"I'm fine." She responded quickly with a smile, looking at both Achilles and Alexander.

Both men did not openly question her word although she knew Alexander doubted her words, but he returned his full attention to Achilles as they continued rattling away about politics, wars, ideologies and Europe's state affairs.

When the Grandfather clock struck 11 AM, the conversation ceased and Alexander took a deep breath, looking directly at Meryl.

"Miss Briar, I have informed Master Davenport of my intentions towards you."

Meryl's eyes widened and her heart almost lurched out of her chest, surprised by his sudden and unexpected declaration.

"Miss Briar," Alexander reiterated and approached her, standing in front of her. "Unfortunately, my other motive for visiting you is to inform you that business calls me back to London for the next 3 months."

Meryl was stunned. Her lips were parted and she did not know what to say.

"I apologize for burdening you with my… sentiments." He declared, his voice mildly stammering. "I wanted to reveal my true intentions towards you before I set off to London… tomorrow morning."

_Was this a coincidence or purely intentional (divine, cosmic or not!) that both of her possible love interests are simply taking off for 3 months?! What the actual fuck?! Can somebody please tell her it was just a coincidence!_

_Jeez, both could simply tell her that she was a chore to deal with and that she should be the one disappearing for 3 months!_

Meryl regained her strength or more likely her attitude.

"Uhm, okay, whatever floats your boat." She blabbered without much thought or care.

"Care to elaborate, my dear?" Achilles peeked over to Meryl, as if he was trying to correct her or cover up the lingo she was using.

"What do you want me to say?" Meryl raised her arms in defeat. "Yes, Alexander, great go do your thing and, uhm, stay healthy and I will see you in 3 months?"

Alexander muffled a chuckle, but the seriousness returned in his face. He took her hands in his which startled Meryl.

"I was hoping…you would join me?"

Meryl's jaw went slack as she stared at Alexander.

After she regained some feeling in her face and eyes she glanced at Achilles, immediately hinting at him to save her from this situation..

"Master Davenport has accorded me his approval."

Meryl's mouth opened and closed.

_Now apparently Achilles was her fucking guardian too?! What the fuck?!_

"Uhm…"

Alexander looked like he was glowing with hope, his smile again almost giving her a fucking heart attack, but no, she couldn't, she wouldn't allow herself to give in.

"Mr. Leighton, I appreciate the invitation, but…" she explained to him in all sincerity, she saw Alexander's expression gradually changing on a micro-level with signs of disappointment, as if his thoughts were confirmed. "This is very sudden, I hope you understand and you don't get offended if I decline for this time. I have barely set roots in Master Davenport's residence and I _owe _him a lot. Please, this is not an excuse, I rather go when I am comfortable with my situation."

Alexander briefly averted his gaze, nodding at her response then he recovered quickly to look at her in the eyes.

"No offense taken, Miss Briar." He responded with his warm smile and chuckled. "I expected as much, but it was worth the try. I shall hope to exchange correspondence with you?"

Meryl nodded with a gleeful smile, relieved that he took it in good strides. They heard approaching footsteps and turned towards the doorway.

"Master Leighton your baggage is ready and your horse is waiting." Announced Ingrid with a quick curtsy, as she held his cane, hat and overcoat over her arm.

Alexander took a deep breath, looked at Meryl then Achilles.

"I believe it is time." He walked towards Ingrid, who helped him put his jacket on and handed him his cane and hat.

There he stood fully clothed, looking spiffy and elegant, just like an aristocrat. They walked out onto the porch. Achilles bade him good bye, remaining on the porch as there still was snow and ice everywhere. Meryl was polite and accompanied Alexander down the stairs and in front of his black stallion.

"You really had to announce _all this_ to Master Davenport? I hope you realize that it will be more difficult for me to get _out_ of this." She told him in a lowered voice, their arms linked to each other when they descended the last step.

Alexander chuckled.

"Dearest, you know me too well, maybe we are meant for each other after all."

Meryl gave him a playful smack of the shoulder.

"Don't get your hopes up, Romeo."

He chuckled and they stopped at the horse. Hanna held onto the leach then passed it to Meryl when she indicated in a hand gesture.

"Will you be all right for the next 3 months?" he verified with some concern.

"Please Alexander, I will be fine, don't worry. I will keep busy and I hope you do the same."

He gripped the saddle, ready to mount the horse but stopped in his movement.

"I shall… miss you." He declared, showing a second of weakness and unease in his expression and eyes.

"And I will miss how you _keep me on my toes_, nobody does that as well as you."

Alexander flashed her a beaming smile. He took off his hat and quickly leaned in, planting a kiss on her lips while his hat covered their action from the rest. Meryl pulled back with a red face.

"_Heeey_! We said we would lay it off, remember?!" she hissed as she covered her mouth in embarrassment.

He flashed her a cocky smile.

"The temptation is too powerful for a mere mortal such as myself."

"Psh, behave. Get on your horse, don't miss your ship." She grumbled.

Alexander chuckled, placed his hat back on his head and climbed his horse. Meryl passed him the leash and he steadied his hot-blooded and snorting stallion.

"A heads up, my handwriting is bad, okay? So, a million apologies in advance."

Alexander chuckled in his deep and suave way.

"Fear not, my love. I have come to terms with your uniqueness."

"_Come to terms, uniqueness?_ What does _that_ mean?"

"That is what I love about you." He stated very directly that it left Meryl red-faced and speechless. "See you in 3 months, my love."

He gave her a tip of the hat and took off with a gallop, dashing down the path and leaving a trail of dusty snow particles as he disappeared behind the bend.

"Son of a bitch…" she groaned. "Recovery period: estimated a month."

Meryl turned around and walked up the stairs. Any minute now she expected a clamor of cheers to happen. When she entered the house squeals of excitement broke out. Yup, it was party time, at least for everybody else.

"He actually kissed her!" Marie exclaimed and laughed giddily with her arms raised to the heavens, praising the lord.

"How improper! A fine gentleman even in broad daylight and in public?!" Ingrid remarked with horror in her face, finding the PDA disgusting.

Marie gave Ingrid a slap on the shoulder.

"Will you stop being such a bore? Be happy for Miss Briar!"

"I-I-I am!" stammered Ingrid with an angry pout and she crossed her arms, "I simply disapprove of public display of affection, it belongs in private and preferably in the bedroom."

Meryl and Marie gave a snickering laugh at Ingrid. The two mischievous ladies of the manor, eyeing each other knowingly.

"Oh please Ingrid, don't tell me you haven't kissed your husband or more outside the bedroom." Meryl coaxed her with a raised eyebrow.

Ingrid turned beet red and Marie and Meryl laughed very loudly.

"Miss Briar, Marie." Achilles cleared his throat and appeared in the hallway, making both Meryl and Marie freeze with alarm and with regret. "This is a fine establishment. What you do in private is none of my concern, however I shall not condone the inappropriate nature of this subject in public, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir, understood, sir!" Meryl called out in her deeply ingrained Marine salute posture.

Marie held back a muffled laughter and quickly made her way back in the kitchen, while Meryl went up the stairs and disappeared into her bedroom.

She finally peeled off her dress and put her casual wear back on, enjoying the freedom of movements of her legs and arms. She sank in the chair in front of the fire. Her mind wandering as she stared into the flames.

_What in the hell was she going to do for the next 3 months…_


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

**Happy New Year fellow readers! Happy 2016! I hope your 2015 ended with a bang, mine did XD I got an internship opportunity at a museum dealing with the American revolution! EFFFF YEEEEESSSS! I am so friggen excited and nervous about it, we'll see where that will go... **

**Anyway, so, I hope this story has been keeping you entertained and I thank you for bearing with my slow updates, but I am back for the month of January and maybe a little into February as well!**

**Thank you all for the support, the reviews, favoriting and the general input. I've had some really lovely and encouraging reviews during the year of 2015 and I hope to see more of your opinions and voices XD **

**Thank you again for taking your time out of your busy schedule to read my story and I will see you at the next update! **

**HAVE AN AWESOME START TO 2016!**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO**

**~ An inconsequential slip of the tongue? ~**

The birds chirped. The sun filtered through the green foliage casting a halo of green on the moist ground. The warm breeze carried the scent of bittersweet leaves, a spice from spring onions, mingled with the saltiness of the ocean water and wetness of sand. The leaves were of a vibrant fresh green almost blocking out the azure blue sky and the warming sun and the fluffy white clouds.

The continuous rustling of shrubs, the chirping of birds, the scampering of squirrels, rabbits and deer revived the once barren forest and ground. Rich berries, variations of herbs and mushrooms sprouted from the once slumbering ground, baiting the wildlife back into the open.

A sudden crack of a branch brought an immediate stillness to the forest.

Behind a tall and dense shrubbery kneeled Meryl whose once light blond hair had been turned back into a golden blond and tied into a high pony tail. She peeked through the branches, her cheeks smeared with mud and grime as her steely cool grey eyes scanned the surroundings in front of her. Her hide clothes were finally custom altered, fitting snugly around her limbs and the entire trunk of her body. From memory she tried to imitate the Native American garbs which were designed to be agile and not cumbersome. Her breasts were bandaged and any loose clothe was tightly wound to her body with pieces of hide or soft thin leather. She had to be agile and fluid.

Meryl slowed down and lowered her breath, her eyes watchfully scanning the scene in front of her. There was a doe who had cocked its head at the sound of the snapped branch earlier. When the Doe sensed no danger it returned back to grazing. Meryl kept her heart beat calm and her body ready for imminent action. She raised her index finger, bent it and placed joint first into her mouth. She almost had her lips fully draped over it and with her practiced tongue and air intake she released a pleasant whistle. It drew the full attention of the doe while also unleashing a storm.

The rustling of leaves, the patter of steps and light rhythmic thudding against the moist ground grew closer. Then bursting from another shrubbery pounced an adult black wolf with magnetic gold yellow eyes, baring glistening white fangs as it chased the startled doe. The black wolf pursued the prey his speed growing in momentum with every fluid step he took. Finally, he jumped and latched onto the throat of doe, dragging it down and biting hard, tearing through its flesh.

Meryl had a spear ready with her blade attached to the end. She jumped out of the shrubbery and ran to the spot. The doe squealed and flailed with terror, as the black wolf bit harder and harder down its throat.

"Kaz! To me!" she ordered.

The black wolf cocked its ears and head, backed away with obedience and Meryl threw the spear, hitting the doe in the heart. The doe gave one last soul screeching whine before it took its last breath and ceased all movements.

The forest went silent for a moment.

Then the usual tranquility of nature returned. Meryl resumed her normal breathing. Kazuma trotted to her side, wagging his tail with his tongue sticking out and giving her a pleased yap. Meryl beamed a smile and gave him a good rub down, making him yap with eagerness and pleasure.

"Such a good boy." She cooed, "I will reward you with a nice piece of liver or maybe some heart, what do you say?"

Kazuma gave a delighted howl, wagging his tail with such excitement that he could barely stand still on his paws.

"Before that, let's bring her up to Marie's kitchen."

Meryl walked over to the slumped body of the doe, turned it over so that it lay on its sides. With a grunt she managed to scoop that thing into her arms and lift it over her shoulder and placed it on her shoulders. She held onto the hooves to keep it steady and walked back up an incline.

"Let's go boy." She said and whistled.

Kazuma trotted right after her.

Within a few minutes they arrived at the back door of the kitchen. Marie and Ingrid immediately spotted her through the window.

"Dear Lord, hun." Marie barged out of the back door with a grin. "You are spoiling us rotten with all that game you've been hunting for us."

"Um Gottes Willen Schatz, please place that creature on the ground! You are going to throw out your back!" Ingrid quipped as she and Marie helped to unload the dead doe to the ground.

"Marie, I've been craving your famous and heavenly deer stew for weeks!" Meryl noted with a grin. "And I feel that today is a special day for it."

"Well, it will certainly take care of the remaining red wine that you two were drinking away." Ingrid mentioned with a sourness, which made Meryl and Marie chuckle.

"But it was delicious!" Meryl whined. "It was either drinking wine and maintaining a jolly mood or wasting away in boredom, Ingrid."

Ingrid snorted at her.

"Dank der Heer [Thank the Lord] the wine will be used for something better."

Meryl stuck her tongue out at her but Ingrid gave her scornful look.

"Let's prop up the deer for skinning and all that nasty stuff." Marie gently intervened with cringe.

"Hanna! Hanna! We need your help." Ingrid called and Hanna came running out.

All women helped propping up the deer, against the wooden frame they had erected tying the deer's legs apart to every corner in an X so there was full access to the belly. Ingrid was the first one to begin with the skinning process.

"Schatz, why don't you go down to the river and get yourself washed."

"Are you sure you don't need help with the doe?"

Ingrid waved her hand dismissively at her.

"Go Schatz, enjoy the river. Marie and Hanna are already helping me." She said and then she read Meryl's thoughts about Kazuma. "And yes, we will leave something for Kazuma."

"He likes the chewy and bloody stuff."

"I know, Schatz and give him a bath too, he has been rather smelly lately."

Meryl snickered. She had grown so accustomed to Kazuma's smell that it was difficult to tell whether he was clean or not.

"I will get some soap, spare clothes and a cloth."

Meryl went into the manor to fetch the stuff and came back outside, undid her knife from the spear, sheathed it and tied the leather band around her neck. She left in a dash down the path in the direction of Myriam's hut with Kazuma excitedly running and panting after her. Meryl ran at full speed, skipping over roots, rocks, holes with ease. She followed the river down as it tucked further and further away from the light forest into a rocky terrain that had been eroded from weather and landslide. She slowed down her descent, grabbing the branches along the way down to slow down her sliding. The terrain became very rocky with crevices and uprooted trees lying around. She hopped over the rocks, parkouring her way through the rough terrain with Kazuma right behind her.

They came to abrupt halt at an overhanging cliff and down below in that pit was a secret water hole stemming from an underground spring. The spring was definitely a nice private spot but it was a serious disadvantage for an ambush. That is why Kazuma always came with her. She climbed down, sliding on the little stones until she came to a full stop to the boulders encircling the spring. The cliff around her had trees still looming over her giving her good protection from prying eyes. There was some shrubbery growing on one side of the spring where she usually bathed and draped her clothes. Kazuma jumped into the water, paddling away, enjoying the cool water.

Meryl giggled, she undid her boots and removed the hide and leather strips that kept her clothes tightly wrapped around her limbs. Then she too jumped into the water, letting the water soak her through completely.

"Kaz, come here. We need to wash you." She whistled and he paddled over to the rocks getting out of the water.

She grabbed the soap bar, dipped it into the water then began to lather up Kazuma's thick raven black fur. Luckily she had remembered to bring a flat boar bristle brush that they gave her for Kazuma's fur. They had too many spare ones in the stable. She lathered up Kazuma until his fur looked like a creamy grey. He wagged his tail with such excitement, his tongue sticking out with pants and again he could barely stand on his paws. It was his favorite treatment, the lathering up part plus giving him a long rub down and combing through his dense fur. He had been shedding his winter fur for some time now, so Meryl had to comb him out thoroughly. She ended up with almost another pile of Kazuma's fur, he had been shedding that much.

With a yap the adult wolf jumped into the spring paddling away in the same giddiness she saw when he was just a pup. Meryl went towards Kazuma, washing off the remaining soap on his fur until he looked like a large black mop of fur. Then with another happy yap he got out of the water and shook his fur dry.

"Don't wander off, Kaz, I need you near." She called out to him, Kaz gave a bark in affirmation and wandered off, his nose glued to the ground and sniffing away.

Meryl moved a boulder to let the water drain properly although there already was a stream coming from the spring. She wanted to clear the pocket of water before she began to wash herself. For a few minutes she allowed the water to drain and then she closed it off. She lathered up the soap and rubbed it all over herself washing her clothes. Then she began to strip bits of clothes from her until she was completely naked and her clothes were draped over the shrubbery to dry.

She draped her arms over the boulders and leaned her head against the stones, sighing with content as she relaxed in the refreshingly cool spring water. It was still a little bit chilly as it was still Spring and not summer. She stared up, watching the sun light glitter through the green foliage and seeing bits of the azure blue sky. If a helicopter would fly over her, they would see everything. She sighed once more.

Indeed 3 months had passed.

It was crazy, it has been at least 5 months since she arrived in the 18th century old America. She had arrived early December and now it was the first week of April. Spring had just really begun, especially the warm weather part. Everything smelled and looked fresh and lush. Meryl never thought she would be so excited to go outdoors, but that was because 18th century America had little to offer for inside activities, other than the strenuous and menial housework.

She had noticed an increasing desire to go back to the 21st century, even though 18th century America held her tightly like an amorous lover. In the back of her mind she was evidently worried about her friends who were probably searching for her. Her dear friends, human Kazuma, Master Kang, Sergeant Thompson, Brian, Darren, Stephanie, Lisha and Gabriella. As sad as it was, she could barely remember the sound of their voices or their typical expressions on their face, it felt like years had passed…

She still had no clue what brought her here in the 18th century and she actually didn't make an effort to look since this era was keeping her busy. Also she didn't know where to start looking. Meryl had a weird feeling that Achilles would know about this or help her and yes it was a weird thing to assume. But judging from how he took her word on her time travelling thing with much ease, makes her question him entirely and the nature of his work too. And yes, Meryl didn't figure out what Achilles secret work was, yet. It was laziness, a combination of procrastination and strong hesitation. She was worried what she would discover about them and also worried about how it would change her perception and relationship to them. Against her better judgment and principle she did go through Achilles' files, notes, accounting, books, etc. and found nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary other than business transactions and a weekly income. He was luckily not in the red, he had no debts and if he did, he was quick to pay it off. She saw the Homestead ledger with all the people, the Scottish lumberjacks, Myriam and some new faces making business transactions or building the community.

Now for the juicy part: Alexander Leighton. Yes, she had written him at least 3 times. Meryl learned that it took at least an entire month or more depending on weather conditions for a letter to arrive to London. So, that meant these letters were almost the length of a short story, 5 pages double sided or more. Honestly, his letters had cheered her up and kept her company through the gloomy period before spring arrived and the snow melted. After all this time they still warmed her heart. She re-read them often to give herself a boost. The common pattern in their letters was reporting what they were doing, how they felt, the weather, what they were planning to do, how they looked forward seeing each other again (stronger from Alexander's side, Meryl was still hesitant) and telling about exciting things that happened to them. For Meryl the most exciting part during the 3 months was raising Kazuma to be such an obedient and loyal wolf and watching him grow. Meryl told that in her latest letter to Alexander. However, what she didn't say to him was her new found ability to hunt and parkour through the forest. She found herself climbing trees, jumping over obstacles with little effort. Yes, it was one of the hardest training she had done to herself in recent memory but it filled her with a thrill and excitement that she hadn't felt in a while. As for Alexander's presence in her thoughts, he was not as present as she thought he would be. She knew she didn't love him, but she acknowledged that she was attracted to him.

As for Mr. Scowl, well, he never showed up in the past 3 months. Yet some of the dock workers and sailors from the Aquilla willingly and intentionally relay to the Davenport manor that Connor was fine and busy sailing to-and-fro between New York and Boston.

Meryl gave a long exasperated groan to herself.

"Connor." She breathed, her mouth feeling weird after pronouncing his name for the first time in 3 months.

Yep. She did wipe him away from her thoughts. Whenever his face, body or voice showed up in her memories or in dreams, she had to go outside and unwind herself. He made her heart hammer, he made her knees weak and made her bite her lips. What she felt for him could almost make her insides implode, how a man could do that to her, is still a mystery. She had to be hard on herself, to detach herself from him and what he provoked in her. As cliché and stupid as it was she could not admit her feelings to him. And yes, what she had done to him, by cornering him in the kitchen was selfish on her part. Yes, she foolishly clung to the idea that Mr. Scowl would reciprocate her feelings, but she could clearly tell that he could not commit to a relationship or a woman right now. His secret job was his only lover that is what she realized. She was a distraction to him and she realized that with such clarity during these 3 months.

However, in his absence she inquired or prodded Ingrid and mostly Marie about his behavior around her. Meryl did not want to start some shit with Hanna since she nursed quite a strong crush on Connor. This girl was sighing and moping to such an obvious degree that it required Marie and Ingrid to coerce her out of her gloom. Ingrid reported with much honesty that she did find Connor's behavior more reserved and watchful whenever Meryl was in the same room with him. Marie went as far as to say that he was stalking her, watching every move she was doing and she even said (in joking, but it still made Meryl uncomfortable) that he probably watched her as she slept. Of course, she expressed her confusion why he wouldn't just go into her room and fuck Meryl to get over that tension they shared. Yeah, if only life was that simple.

Meryl now gave a deep sigh, as if expelling the thoughts she had on Connor while also trying to release the tension in her body.

The cicadas buzzed, the birds chirped, critters scampered about, leaves rustled against the breeze, the water trickled and plopped. The forest was very alive with pleasant sounds. Then she heard a distant howl which made her tense up. It wasn't a distressful howl, but it made her unsure about the source. She sat up and then whistled with the side of her index finger in her mouth. She climbed out of the spring, wiped off the dripping water with the semi dried cloth. She quickly slipped on her almost dried pants and loose shirt which she stuffed into her pants, not caring to bind them close to her body. She hastily grabbed her other remaining items tied it into a bundle with the bindings. She slipped her boots on.

She whistled one more time.

No response again.

Her heart squeezed unpleasantly. She tied her wet hair into a pony tail and made a run down along the stream. She pulled her knife from her sheath, ready to strike if Kazuma was in trouble. She heard some yapping and barking ahead.

"Kazuma! To me!" she called out.

She burst through a shrubbery and landed on a down trodden path that was cleared. It was a path that led away from the docks of the Aquilla. She turned her head to the right, following the light incline of the path and froze with her jaw gone slack.

Kazuma perked his ears and turned his head, barking gleefully and he ran back to Meryl almost pushing her over as he placed his front paws against her chest.

"Down, boy." She hissed at him with a scold, returning her knife back into the sheath. "I told you to stay nearby! I whistled _twice_!"

Kazuma's tail wagged with delight, as if he didn't register her worry and he gave her cheek a generous and smelly lick. He snorted and yapped, dismounting her.

"He has grown." The direct albeit wooden voice spoke.

That voice, Meryl did not want to look at that person. She had taught herself these past 3 months to discard any thoughts leading to him. Her heart hammered anxiously. What felt like forever she finally raised her eyes.

_Connor._

Her heart almost gave out. The sun was setting, the rays filtering through the sparse foliage and highlighting his features as he stood erect in profile looking over his shoulder at her. His hands were clenched and at his sides. His clothes looked a little more worn and stained. He was still as imposing as usual, maybe grew a few inches. Due to the sun rays the light hit his face from the back, casting a shadow on certain parts of his face defining the creases around his mouth, the depth of his deep-set wakeful eyes and the sternness of his expression. He had a bundle slung over his shoulder and his hatchet and pistol glinted with a marked presence.

_Fuck._

_He still made her feel weak._

Meryl immediately withdrew all her expression of surprise and projected a calm and collected demeanor.

"You're back." Meryl dully noted. "And alive."

Connor nodded, averting his gaze briefly.

"You bathed?"

Meryl nodded. Kazuma trotted back to Connor's side waiting for a caress from Connor. Connor evidently obliged petting Kazuma with a flicker of a smile on his face.

"I found a nice secluded spot, a spring actually."

"I see." Connor answered, distracted by Kazuma's need for attention.

Meryl forced herself to walk up to him, the pebbles and dirt scrunching under her feet signaling her body and mind that she was getting closer to him. Her attention was on Kazuma, she placed the side of her index finger in her mouth and whistled gently.

"Anyway, Kazuma, let's head back to the house." She commanded, Kazuma withdrew from Connor's touch perking his ears in her direction and panting with his tongue out.

With a flick of her hand she motioned Kazuma to walk ahead. He obeyed with a yap and trotted on ahead. Connor straightened his body as Meryl walked passed him.

"Marie is making her famous deer stew, so I want to hurry back before everybody eats it away." Declared Meryl without waiting for Connor's response or waiting for him.

He picked up the pace, trailing a little behind her. Kazuma was busy keeping his nose to the ground sniffing away.

"You have trained him?" asked Connor.

He was really trying to talk to her, whether it was to reconnect or formality she didn't know, but at least he was doing the small talk.

"I had to keep myself busy for the past 3 months. Looks like my Marine training came in handy I turned him into a great hunter and great bodyguard." She explained with a proud smile.

They continued walking up the winding incline of the path until it reached a plateau. The terrain evened out and more forest was present. They had entered the Homestead woodland area. Meryl was debating whether to say something, but whenever her body and mouth was ready to spit out some sentences, her brain immediately went on lock down, cutting down the neural signals to her tongue, teeth, facial muscles and her vocal cords.

_Why bother_?

Finally, they stepped on that one path when she was trying to flee from Connor several months ago. They walked a good distance until they could finally see the Davenport manor. They walked the light incline which curbed around in front of manor.

"Miss Briar."

Meryl froze in her steps, completely distrusting her ears.

_He called her by her formal name… What the fuck._

They thankfully stood in front of the overgrown hedge that grew along the stone wall. It obstructed the view and it was pretty close to the stairs leading to the main entrance. She turned around to face him, displaying the surprise on her face. Connor too seemed a little surprised that she was giving her full attention at him, so he shifted his eyes between her face and the ground at her feet and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I…I wanted to apologize for my abrupt departure." He stammered.

Meryl tilted her head with her eyes searching the heavens for what he was talking about, then it struck her and she gasped with realization.

"Oh that? Psh, no need to apologize." She chuckled with a dismissive swipe of her hand.

"I had no right to push you like that." He asserted, taking a step forward and his gaze finally focused on her with intent and honesty.

_Wow. He was actually talking to her and in full sentences too!_

"Connor, I deserved it. I was being an asshole, I mean, very stupid and irrational." Meryl rebuffed his words, realizing that what she done in the kitchen to him was indeed very senseless and also quite tactless.

Connor had taken a few steps in her direction until he stood in front of her. They were separated by an arms-length. Her heart pounded in anticipation against her chest. She saw tension in his body and face. He knit his brows together, carrying a grave expression to his eyes. She saw him swallowing with difficulty, he averted his eyes briefly and his hand found itself rubbing the back of his neck.

Meryl's body was ready to implode with anticipation, is it really what she thought it was?

"You words struck me." He averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck with a pensive expression in his face.

"What do you mean?" she stammered and quickly cleared her throat to cover up her nervousness.

He returned his attention back at her, encountering her nervous expression with a puzzled raised brow. He was confused by her general behavior, meaning he did not understand the cause of her agitated state.

"Didn't you say you were confused of my motives?"

"Y-yes." She nodded almost too eagerly because of the nervousness.

Connor exhaled, his lips tightened into another pondering gesture.

"I…" he began and he looked back into her eyes with Meryl's heart pounding with the highest anticipation she had ever felt in her life. "I wanted to apologize for intruding upon your privacy. It was unfounded and unjustified. I wish to make amends."

A punch in the gut would have been more acceptable than this.

Meryl released a long breath, as if she had held her breath the entire time. Her body felt numb, but she felt also incredibly cold.

"Miss Briar?" Connor's calm voice called to her which drew her attention back to him.

She crossed her arms and then she chuckled in spite of her state and her thoughts.

"Jesus Christ, Connor!" she snorted. "No need to be so serious about this! It is _just_ an _apology_ and nothing else! Jesus…"

She groaned to herself and yanked the leather strand from her hair to let her hair down.

"What else were you expecting?" he remarked with a sharpness in his tone, he really did not expect that response from her.

"Are you…!" she groaned with exasperation, unable to complete her sentence with the disappointment and anger she felt, resulting her to hiss with a resolute. "_Nothing_!"

Connor groaned with frustration.

"Do you expect me to grovel for your forgiveness?" he barked, his arms apart and outstretched offended that she would demand that of him.

"What? No!" she countered back insulted by his insinuation. "Why would I do that?!"

He slammed his hand against his chest, his face challenging her and his frown intensified with anger.

"_What do you want from me?_" he demanded, his voice strong and piercing.

Meryl's body stiffened and she locked her jaw tightly. She felt his huffing breath against her face, his fiery chestnut brown eyes searing through her grey turbulent eyes. For the first time in her adult life control was slipping from her hands. It was too late. Her mental self-control and her jaw loosen and the barrage of emotions exploded from her mouth.

"_Are you that fucking dense?!" _she yelled and then gave him a hard shove, pointing her index finger at him. "_I WANT YOU!"_

Meryl covered her mouth in horror, realizing what she had just revealed. Connor stumbled backwards from the impact, catching his balance. He raised his bewildered eyes, his body rigid. It looked like he stopped breathing his wide chestnut eyes visibly stunned and confused, scanning her face and body to understand what was going on. Meryl huffed, her chest heaving with the intensity of her emotions and feelings. She wanted to stand her ground and wait for an answer like an adult would, but as the seconds flew by and as she saw the confusion and startle cementing clearly into Connor's face and body language, exasperation and hopelessness seized her.

She brusquely turned away and stormed off towards the manor, leaving the bewildered Connor behind.

"Ach, Schatz! – w-what is the matter?" Ingrid's tone immediately changed as she encountered Meryl's troubled presence in the hallway before the stairs.

Meryl took a deep shuddering breath.

"I'm- I'm not feeling well." Meryl responded, clearing her throat to remove the lump in her throat. "Ingrid, please have my dinner brought up. I think I will stay in my room for the remainder of the day."

"Schatz," Ingrid couldn't finish her sentence since Meryl disappeared up the stairs and out of her sight.

* * *

"Your cooking as always never disappoints me, Marie." Achilles said with a small pleased smile and he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

Marie offered Achilles a bright smile. She went over to his chair, pulled it out and helped him up to his feet. With his cane at his side she escorted him to the stairs.

"Has Connor returned?"

Marie nodded.

"He's having dinner in the kitchen."

"Good. What of Miss Briar?"

Marie's face fell, the usually perky and beaming demeanor dimmed by concern.

"She is troubled and unwell, I brought her dinner to her room."

Achilles for the moment did not react to Marie's words, briefly thinking what the cause could be. If manners permitted he would have rolled his eyes to the situation.

"Drama follows him everywhere…" Achilles sighed with defeat, shaking his head with disappointment.

"So it is Connor who is the cause of Miss Briar trouble!" Marie's snarled with a hushed angered voice.

Achilles looked at her straight in the eyes, giving her the knowing and the "cut the bullshit" look which made Marie sigh.

"Marie, of all the people I have met, I know that nothing every escapes your sight. Do not pretend that you have not noticed."

Marie opened and closed her mouth, crossing her arms over her chest and she pouted, insulted by his insinuation. However, her eyes scanned the surroundings and she lowered her face and her voice with caution.

"When have you noticed?" she asked with hesitancy.

Achilles gave a chortle.

"My dear, even though I am aging and my eyesight too might be affected, these signs do not escape my attention, especially when Connor is involved."

Marie sighed.

"What should we do?" Marie leaned in further, her voice more cautious and she carried a knowing look pertaining to the nature of her question. "Do you think it will affect his performance?"

Achilles entire demeanor hardened, but somehow his face and dark eyes welcomed the nature of the challenge which was reflected in the calmness of his face. Slowly, Achilles shook his head.

"That boy is too proud and too stubborn to allow any distraction." Achilles gave another raspy chuckle, his dark eyes twinkling with nostalgia. "Rest assured if it does get out of hand, we will straighten them both out."

Marie and Achilles locked gazes for a moment until Marie spoke up again.

"When should we tell Miss Briar?"

"Not yet."

"What if she discovers it?"

Achilles gave a silent smile.

"So be it."

Marie observed him with an uncertain tug of her eyebrow

"Achilles, I hope you understand my hesitation, I am surprised that you've come to trust her." Marie explained to him, the warmth gone from her round milky brown eyes with her lips displaying a graveness and tension which was very out-of-character. "Usually, it takes you time to allow a stranger to enter our circle, it was the case with Ingrid, me and Hanna – how is Miss Briar different from the rest of us?"

A small smile tugged at Achilles lips, his gaze averted momentarily, something stirred in his dark eyes, a memory or a particular feeling he had towards Meryl.

"Miss Briar," Achilles said after exhaling, returning his gaze towards Marie "Is an exceptionally knowledgeable, proficient and powerful character – a rare and unique breed of a woman that could be both a threat or help to us. I might add that if she had arrived before Connor I would have taken her in and taught her everything I know."

Marie almost staggered, feeling the blow of his words. She stared at him, agape with disbelief.

"Are…are you certain of this? Is that what you perceive of Miss Briar?" Marie breathed, still taken aback by his words.

Achilles chuckled.

"Good night, Marie. I will see you tomorrow." He patted her hand which she had placed on the railing as support.

Then he hobbled up the stairs, humming a tune to himself.

* * *

"Oh, it's so nice to have you back, Connor." Ingrid chirped as she paced around the kitchen, prepping the upcoming meals.

Connor sat at the table, his forearms resting on the table as he was contently devouring the deer stew from his bowl. Of course, he was on his third bowl.

"My, Mäuschen [cute way of saying little mouse, usually targeted to little children]! Have you not eaten for days again?" Ingrid glanced at Connor's already empty bowl, she went to his side extending her hand and he wordlessly gave her his bowl so that she could fill it up again.

Connor munched away at some bread and downed a pint of water, then sipped on his hot tea. His eyes were focused dead straight in front of him, staring a hole through the kitchen cabinets below the window.

"You certainly are quiet tonight, are you all right?" Ingrid cooed as she placed the bowl in front of him and affectionately rested her hand on his shoulder.

He looked at her, softening his expression then patted her hand with his right hand.

"I am thinking."

Ingrid chuckled.

"Ach, Connor you are always in thought, but usually you are a little more energetic after you come back."

"It's been a tiresome journey."

"Ah, I see." She chirped with a warm smile. "Oh well, welcome back, enjoy your meal and rest up."

She moved back to the stove with her back turned, stirring the stew and tinkering away at something which Connor didn't really care to notice. The door opened with a loud creak, briefly startling Connor and rendering him tense, but when he saw it was just Marie he calmed down.

"Achilles is going to bed now, I think he might need some help." Marie said.

"Marie! You must address him as your master, he did hire you, you know."

"Alright, alright. Go tend to him, please." Marie ushered Ingrid out of the kitchen.

Then Marie spun around and plopped down next to Connor, resting her arms on the table and staring at him straight in the side of his face.

"So, hun, what have you done this time to offend, Miss Briar?"

Connor's body immediately tensed and he spun his head in her direction, surprised by the unexpected accusation.

"What?" he stammered

"You heard me, hun."

"I've done nothing wrong!" defended Connor with a terse voice.

Marie huffed and got up. She placed her hands on her hips, glowering at him.

"I don't know what you said or did to her, but you better apologize."

Connor brusquely got up from the table, knocking over his empty wooden bowl with a _clack_.

"Why should I?" he retorted with a growl.

Marie's milky brown eyes turned into slits as she unleashed the fire from the pits of hell.

"While you selfishly wandered off, _she took upon herself to fully provide for _us!" Marie roared and she slammed her hands on the table, then with a sharp gest of her arm indicating to Meryl upstairs. "Every day for the past 3 months she went out, sometimes not returning for 2 days! She taught herself to fish and hunt game!"

Marie huffed angrily, her eyes clouded over with the growing presence of tears in her eyes. She lowered her eyes, using her palms as support as she placed most of her weight against the table's surface.

"I would do anything to erase that memory of the pale, exhausted and grave face of Miss Briar… She had no reason to subjugate herself to this burden. I even heard her staying awake at night, unable to sleep, poor Miss Briar… Yet, she swore full responsibility because she felt she was the cause of your sudden departure." Marie snapped her attention at Connor, clenching her fists tightly. "The deer stew that you so generously ate, it was Miss Briar's catch of today. She even carried the doe all the way up to the manor."

The anger and defiance vanished from Connor's face and his body. Surprise and the clearest signs of guilt governed his entire body. The corners of his mouth tugged downwards while his eyes became narrow as if in pain. His eyes had sunken to the knocked over bowl, his eyes scanning the remaining stew sticking to the bottom of the bowl.

"She did not say…"

-Why would she? The shortage had been solved and it was done _without you_." Marie interrupted him with such a sharp tone that it made Connor's face transition into guilt then a mix of hurt in his face.

"I will not talk or pay attention to you until you made peace with her. _Now leave my kitchen!_" She barked and turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Connor opened and closed his mouth. He couldn't find the words to express or defend himself. He lowered his eyes, momentarily clenched his fist and locked his jaw. Then without a word, he moved away from the table and left the kitchen for the night.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

**Hiya... Another chapter for you guys XD I thought I would be productive during the vacation but it is proving to be difficult . I am just not feeling inspired =.= Maybe it is writer's block or either I am getting pretty anxious about my upcoming internship opportunity, dunno... I just don't feel 100%, but don't worry THIS FANFIC WILL BE COMPLETED REGARDLESS. This story cannot be abandoned it is too good, it is testing my boundaries as a writer and I AM LOVING IT (in a masochistic way)! I guess I need inspiration to hit me like A TRUCK because right now vacation is the one hitting me like a truck~.~**

**Thank you all again for the lovely reviews and overall support. It truly means a lot to me... Have a wonderful week and see you in the next update - BUh-BYEEEEE**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY THREE**

**~ First Blood ~**

Meryl stepped out of the manor, taking a deep breath of the early morning dewy air. The sun had just begun to rise. The red sun rays barely scratched the top of the trees and the dew still glistened against the leaves and the grass. The birds chirped, the seagulls cawed and the critters scampered about rustling through the foliage above or the shrubberies below.

Kazuma snorted and then shook his fur after a good scratching behind his ears. Then he sat down, staring out into the landscape patiently waiting for Meryl to finish gazing out into the distance. Meryl looked down, a pleasant flutter in her stomach as she looked down at Kazuma. Is this how a parent feels when they stare at their growing child? Meryl never knew she had the ability to love in a very unconditional way towards an animal or any living thing for that matter. Having a child surely was very different, but now she understood why humans babied and humanized their pets. These creatures had the ability to tap into the human heart and unlock the ability to love.

God, the loneliness she felt for so many months prior to her baby wolf's arrival was gone and replaced with warm and fuzzy memories of him.

Now if her human friend, Kazuma, knew that he had been temporarily replaced by a black wolf –maybe he will be a little pissed but maybe also proud that she had bestowed his name on such a majestic creature.

"Kazuma Maeda…" she breathed absentmindedly.

Even though she could barely remember her friends' faces, human Kazuma's face and body stuck out the most in her memories. It was weird that he in particular stood out when truthfully her Marine buddies were probably the ones that should have stood out from the rest. Yet, here she was remembering Kazuma almost with crystal clarity how the corner of his dark eyes crinkled whenever he laughed and smiled. She remembered his wild coarse hair which he routinely had it maintained by a Japanese hair stylist somewhere in downtown Manhattan. Even though he was born in Japan and had moved to the States when he was four years old, he stayed in touch with the Japanese culture and trends, hence the regular visits to his hair stylist. He dressed so fashionably that everything appeared tailored to his body type and his style. Interestingly, when Meryl and Kazuma had gone to school together he really didn't give two shits appearance and presentation wise. He never dressed like a slob, just very uncaring about his peers' trends. He preferred jeans and sometimes khakis, paired with a buttoned up shirt which at times was buttoned all the way up. He wasn't so much in touch with the mainstream stuff but knew all about the latest video games.

But, after seeing Kazuma with a towel wrapped around his waist with a ripped body – this was not the scrawny and lanky Kazuma anymore that she grew up with. He was a full grown man in his prime and at the peak of his career as a program developer. Through Master Kang and Kazuma's sister Reina she heard that he had been out of the dating scene for a while. Meryl was surprised of that, he was such a good looking guy. Of course, he had nurtured relationships here and there, so it was not like he was not living his life like any healthy person or man would. Meryl never wanted to pry about his love life, but now that she was stuck in the 18th century with no guarantee that she will ever return, the regret for not asking him about it made her stomach shrivel.

A bark brought her out of her pensive state.

Her black wolf playfully chased a terrified squirrel around the property, barking and yapping giddily as he continuously blocked the squirrel's potential escape route.

"Kaz! What have I told you about playing with your food?" Meryl called, walking down the stairs and onto the path with the stone wall running alongside it.

Kazuma perked his ears and his attitude completely changed. His golden eyes sharped on the squirrel and with a loud toothy growl he chomped down on the squirrel's head. Meryl cringed. She heard the dying squeal followed by the cartilage and the bones of the squirrel cracking.

After Kazuma finished feasting on the measly body of the squirrel he raised his snout, still dipped in blood, his golden eyes still hazy from the blood thirst and he gave a deliberate, triumphant and long drawn lick over his chops. Every time he came in contact with his fresh kills, his inner predatory wolf shone through which constantly reminded Meryl that he was still a beast of nature and not a "pet".

Now, the beast had been temporarily sated.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed your little snack, we have some hunting to do. Are you up to the challenge?"

Kazuma's face lit up and he gave a giddy howl, wagging his tail and dancing on his impatient paws. Meryl grinned. She then raised her eyebrow in his direction, seized by a surge of excitement. She broke into a sprint, calling over her shoulder.

"I'll race you to the river!"

Kazuma gave a howl and chased after her. They both ran down into the lower terrain heading for the dense forest.

* * *

He heard her move this morning.

Of course he always did. Just by ear he could tell apart whose footsteps they belonged to. He took much notice of the differences of every inhabitant in Davenport manor. Everyone had a unique walk and pace. Yes, if they knew to what degree he was knowledgeable about their gait they would be frightened. But Ingrid, Marie, Hanna and Achilles have long come to terms that he knew who to expect just by their approaching footsteps. Rarely if ever was he surprised. He remembered overhearing some of his village elders arguing at the fire about how much a person's stride or walk can reveal about the person. For instance, Marie's walk is very pronounced and fiery which is very much like her character, she is outgoing and very direct and also quite fearless. Ingrid was the opposite very polite and lofty almost gliding noiselessly across the floorboard with an occasional, maybe intentional click of her heel against the floorboard to announce her presence. While Hanna's strides were meek, short and very quick they always halted at the stairs or when she happened to walk in front of his door. As for Achilles, well, he was damn obvious with his limp but sometimes he could surprise everybody with his stealthy maneuvering. And as for Meryl she always had a weightless and agile gait about herself. There was a certain tension and vigilance that never left her despite spending months with them in the Davenport manor. Could she still be afraid or wary of a possible ambush?

But he could not let go of that nagging suspicion that she was concealing something from him. Something in her bearing made him feel that way. He knew or even sensed that she and Achilles had come to some kind of agreement, about what he was not sure. Achilles was extremely and abnormally tight lipped about it. Getting the old man to talk about anything was like trying to get a wolf to speak in the human tongue. For all he knew Achilles could be harboring the ability of foresight.

He sighed. He sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his parted knees. He looked down on his callous hands, turning them around and mindlessly examining them closely as his mind wandered to what Meryl said.

_ I want you…_

His body involuntarily froze as he felt his insides twist at the bottom of his stomach. He covered his face's response to the sensation in his body. He rubbed his hand over his chin, analyzing the sensation while his eyes moved and searched for the cause of that foreign invasive feeling. He brought his two hands together and interlocked his fingers while his elbows still remained on his knees. He hid his mouth behind his interlaced fingers. He felt his breathe batting faster than usual on top of his fingers. His cheeks warmed up and his heart raced. The sensation grew. He tightened his jaw.

With a loud and resounding exasperated groan he dropped back onto his bed and threw his thick forearm over his eyes as if hiding from the world the turbulence in his eyes.

_What does "I want you" mean?_

* * *

Meryl secured the last rabbit by its heels, which dangled unceremoniously along its other three dead counterparts. She swung them over her shoulders while the fourth one she had caught was sacrificed to Kazuma.

_Oh did he enjoy that treat. _

There was something fascinating about watching a beast like Kazuma consumed by bloodthirst goring his way through his prey. In a demented fashion it even appeased Meryl's curiosity. Yes, she was damaged and war does that. War changes people and she was no different. Psychologists would have a field day studying her. She had a penchant for fighting and seeing her opponents face crumble into disbelief and despair – it was a turn on, not sexually but in an empowering sense. 18th century North America was teeming with arrogant opponents! The thought of taking a few of them down a couple of notches send a thrill down her spine.

Kazuma's sudden snort pulled her out from her thoughts. She saw his raised head, ears perked and moving as it capture some sounds with his golden eyes dead-set in a particular direction.

"Who do you hear, boy?" Meryl inquired.

Kazuma looked at her for a moment, tilted his head and then shrugged off her response by returning his attention to his pancaked and torn open rabbit. Meryl did not shrug off Kazuma's moment of alertness; she kept it in the back of her mind. Of course, she might be overthinking it, but it was better to be safe about things especially 18th century America.

"Okay, boy, let's head back home." She announced and got to her feet, the dead bunnies dangling down her back.

The sun filtered through the foliage from above. It was definitely mid-morning, it was warm and the birds and critters were up and about. The forest was wide awake. She looked up to the boughs crisscrossing above her, this damn place was perfect for that parkour shit that Connor does.

She sighed deeply. The cat was pretty much out the bag now, it is up to Connor to think over what she had unintentionally revealed about her feelings. 21st century dudes would have instantly responded to her (okay, that is maybe an exaggeration, some would be too stunned or too dense to understand it or others would down right reject it), but Connor looked like she had utterly disarmed him just with the words that came out of her mouth! He was stunned and speechless. It made her feel insecure and hurt, because that silence and pause left a possibility that he never saw her as more than _frenemies _(yes, Meryl has successfully coined the nature of their fucked up relationship).

However, these thoughts disappeared when she suddenly felt an invisible weight drop on her shoulders causing her to grapple onto the nearest tree trunk to steady her dizzy self.

"_What the flying fuck…_" she breathed hard, her body went into panic-mode.

Her vision spun and her head felt like lead and about to roll off from her shoulders. She pushed herself from the tree and tried to take a step forward, but she collapsed to her knees and rolled her body onto her back. She tried to get up but it felt like gravity had mounted her body and pinned her to the ground.

"What the… fuck is happening… to me?" her voice weak and trembling.

It felt like an invisible enemy had managed to paralyze her with dizziness. She tossed the rabbits aside.

She never had this before.

The paralyzing dizziness gave her a vertigo-like feel where she felt absolutely powerless against gravity.

"_What the fuck…_" her voice grew more and more foreign to her, it was terrified by that unknown opponent that had managed to wrestle her to the ground.

Kazuma sensed her distress and rushed over to her side, nudging her and licking her face with a whine.

"Kazuma…" she grasped his fur, to steady him. "Get…get help."

Kazuma continued to yelp, nudging her continuously with worry, he of course did not pay attention to what she had said.

"Kaz!" she barked at him with command, drawing his full attention. "Get help…Get someone, anybody! Go! _GO NOW!"_

She shoved him. Kazuma whined one more time, his golden eyes glimmering with concern but after studying the urgency in her eyes and her entire body language, he took off with a dash. She watched him disappear into the shrubbery. He let out a long-drawn howl which echoed then faded into the density of the forest.

Meryl took out her knife, holding it close to her as a safety precaution, after all Meryl was out in the open and exposed to any predator.

* * *

"Connor," Ingrid called as she entered the kitchen, noticing him sitting at the bench finishing off his breakfast. "Oh there you are. Have you seen, Miss Briar?"

Connor looked at her for moment, his body stiffened and in defiance he shrugged his shoulders, taking a swig from his tea.

"I am sure she is fine." He replied in a curt tone

"Connor!" Ingrid remarked with horror at his tone.

"Why does everybody always assume that I know her whereabouts?" he countered in a biting tone which did not sit well with Ingrid.

Ingrid crossed her arms over her chest and huffed then she checked her surroundings.

"_Are you not supposed to watch her_?" she whispered with precaution.

"Not anymore, I have other responsibilities, Ingrid."

Ingrid's eyes widened with appall, placing her hand on her heart.

"_Um Himmels Willen_, Connor! Such impertinence! What is the matter with you?!"

Connor was about to open his mouth when they both heard the scratching followed by the urgent barks of Kazuma. Ingrid's face lit up with relief and she rushed over to the door.

"Schatz, I was worried, where – Kazuma?" Ingrid's excitement disappeared and intrigue caught her attention.

She stepped outside, scanning the surroundings and found no trace of Meryl.

"Where is she?" mumbled Ingrid.

Kazuma jumped at Connor, paws against Connor's stomach, barking and whining. Connor patted Kazuma's head, looking him straight in the eyes. Kazuma bit at Connor's sleeve and tugged. He paused and analyzed Kazuma's body language and behavior, then his face hardened.

"Where is she?" Connor asked in a firm tone.

Kazuma withdrew and stepped outside, pacing around and looking at Connor. He barked and gave a howl. He stood impatiently on his paws, waiting, expecting movement from anybody.

"What is wrong with him?" Ingrid inquired with confusion.

Connor drowned out her voice, his eyes watching Kazuma carefully. After a moment of staring, suddenly Connor's body and expression grew tense. Connor placed his hand on Ingrid's shoulder to shut her up and he stepped outside.

"_Bring me to her!_" Connor ordered Kazuma.

He gave a howl and took off followed by Connor hot on his tail.

* * *

Meryl was still conscious but extremely light headed. Something cloyingly sweet would probably help her. Maybe it was exhaustion getting to her or low blood sugar or even low iron levels…Self-diagnosing herself was getting her nowhere, for all she cared she could be as accurate as WebMD, meaning she likely had cancer.

She wanted to move but her body would not allow her. She tried to breathe calmly and deeply but her breathe came out in short bursts. She was hyperventilating. For the first time in a long time, she was afraid. She was losing control of her body and fear dominated her senses. She must have fucked up her body, maybe lack of sleep and proper eating did this. Meryl felt herself slipping away, the numbing sensation at the tip of her nose was gradually spreading to her toes and fingers. She was on the cusp of fainting.

Then she heard the distant rumbling and thumping. She was relieved but couldn't see who it was. She heard the barks and howl. It made her smile.

"Kaz…" she barely breathed.

She heard the haggard breathe of Kazuma and within seconds he was licking and slobbering all over her face.

"Meryl!" she heard a deep voice that she really didn't want to hear, the lumbering running footsteps coming to screeching halt.

He dropped down at her side, his brows furrowed with concern and his chestnut eyes scanning her body and face frantically. He hastily propped her up which made her cling to his coat. Her hyperventilation picked up again, causing her to grip the front of his coat tightly while her wide panicked grey eyes and her pale face implored for comfort.

Connor's face hardened and she saw his jaw tighten. Without warning he immediately brought her entire body close to his, so that the side of her head rested against his chest while his arms had wrapped around her.

Her body didn't give two shits to what Connor just did, but her mind, as vivid, blatant and horny as ever, rejoiced that she was practically almost sitting in his lap! HIS FUCKING LAP!

He immediately began to rub her back in a soothing circular motion.

"Take deep breaths." He instructed in a low and calm but clear voice.

Meryl tried to calm herself but continued to whimper and hyperventilate. Connor suddenly tightened his embrace around her body more and now rested his face against the top of her head. The circular backrub grew gentler and so did the quality of his voice.

"You are safe… Take deep steady breaths."

Meryl was stunned into silence. As if by magic her body began to relax and calm itself as she took deep breaths. Her senses returned slowly as she wasn't anymore on survival mode. She could hear his strong, steady heart beats and feel the warmth that emanated from his broad torso. His coarse white and blue coat felt soothing against her weak hand grip. His scent permeated through his attire, a mix of earth, pines, moss and faint lilac.

How long had it been since she felt that safety and comfort in a man's embrace? Or actually who has ever given her a semblance of peace and safety in an embrace?

Suddenly, she felt that very familiar and _oh-for-fuck-sake-not-now_ feeling that plagued every woman on the planet which immediately made her thighs clench. Meryl bounced out of Connor's arms and only to be caught by Connor who broke her fall.

"What is the matter with you? You shouldn't be walking!"

"I know, I know." She gently pushed herself away and staggered away from him.

Briskly Kazuma almost jumped on her and whined as he began to sniff her crotch and butt with alarm.

"Stop it, boy!" she hissed at him, waving her hands at him.

Connor looked down and his eyes widened with alarm.

"You're bleeding!"

Meryl's face crumbled in pure embarrassment as she saw that damn red stream staining her inner thigh through her hide pants. She covered herself with shame but Connor completely disregarded her behavior and scooped her into his arms.

"Connor! – I-I-I am fine, r-really." She insisted with her face beet red, resisting in his arms.

"_We need to dress your wound_."

"But it's not-

-_Be silent_!" he snapped harshly, glaring at her with his steady yet turbulent gaze which silenced her. "Now put your arms around my neck!"

The intensity of his chestnut eyes coupled by his furrowed brows and locked jaw, magically overpowered her ability to speak. She complied, lacing her arms behind his neck. She was baffled, taken off guard by not only the harshness of his tone but by the directness of it.

Connor hoisted her up into his arms and carried her. He broke into a jog with Kazuma running ahead and barking. She looked up to his face. His entire demeanor was the most intense she had ever seen him. He looked very steady but she sensed urgency and tension underneath that composed air.

* * *

"What is the matter you foolish wolf?" sighed Ingrid with exasperation when Kazuma had been tugging at her apron.

She followed Kazuma to the main entrance.

"What have you – HEAVENS, MISS BRIAR!" Ingrid's attitude immediately changed and she shrieked with horror.

Connor emerged from behind the hedge with a frail and pale Meryl in his arms. She saw signs of blood around the thighs.

"What happened?" Ingrid demanded.

"Not now, Ingrid!" barked Connor. "Prepare her room, bring water and spare clothes!"

"Marie, Hanna!" Ingrid yelled as she stormed into the manor. "I need your assistance immediately!"

"What's wrong?" called Marie running out of the kitchen, but when she too saw Meryl her entire demeanor became very concerned for Meryl.

Connor went up the stairs and towards her room with the women hot on his heels with water, towels, clothes, bindings, etc. The women laid out some towels on Meryl's bed then he placed her on the bed.

From the moment that she was put on the bed, all three women instantly knew what the hell was wrong. Ingrid and Hanna got down to business instantly. Connor stood there, arms crossed trying to peek over the huddled women. However, Marie blocked his view and stood in front of him.

"Hun, I'm gonna have to ask you to wait outside."

"Why?"

Marie had to hold herself back from snorting, but she saw in his body language why he responded in a very protective manner. Connor appeared to have forgotten that Meryl had to be changed.

"Hun," she went over to his side, resting her hand on his shoulder in a very reassuring way and moving him closer to the door. "We have to undress her, so you have to step outside."

With his arms still crossed and his tense gaze steadily focused on her then Meryl, he heaved his chest to exhale, not entirely convinced.

"Do not worry, she is in good hands, Connor." Marie patted his upper arm with reassurance and smiled at him.

He gazed over to Meryl's resting figure as Hanna and Ingrid were chatting with her. Meryl smiled at weakly at them, her face still looking very pale as if all the blood had been sucked out of her face.

Meryl noticed his steady lingering gaze on her. It made her heart skip a beat. Without a word and only with his eyes he seemed to be asking her permission or even waiting for a sign of reassurance that he could leave the room. It warmed Meryl's insides which prompted a fragile but grateful smile to appear on her pale face.

She saw the tension dissipate just a little, as his brows were less furrowed and his shoulders were just a little slack and the tension in his jaw too slowly dissipated.

He returned his gaze to Marie and he gave her a nod, then he left the room to let the women take care of Meryl.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**Heya, sorry for the delay ~.~ I just got started with my internship at the museum and class started, so imma be beeeeeeeeusy this semester ~.~ I'll try my damndest to update regularly, I'll try to keep it 2 chapters a month but if life gets too much it will be reduced to once a month. I'm so sorry about that :(**

**Thank you again for the ongoing support and thank you for sticking with me, your support is always appreciated. XD**

**Happy reading and hope you enjoy!**

**Have a lovely weekend and happy most overrated day, at least in the U.S, of the year... Valentine's day x.x**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR**

**~ Finally, somebody takes me seriously ~**

It was Connor's first time in memory (maybe he was told about it but never understood it) getting educated about the woman's body. Ingrid was the one who explained him everything. He tried to keep a straight face but the more he was told the queasier and uncomfortable he became. Eventually, when Ingrid finished her explanation he breathed out.

"This means that she is all right?" he asked, to break the awkward atmosphere between them.

Ingrid grinned and nodded.

"Needn't worry, Mäuschen. The strong woman that she is, she should be back on her feet in no time."

"Is it common for women… to collapse like that?" he inquired now, looking up to her window as they had "the talk" outside in front of the manor.

"Sometimes. If I may, I believe some good rest and lots of hearty stew should do the trick." Said Ingrid and then she chuckled. "Miss Briar has made the oddest request."

"She has?"

"She requested cooked chicken livers."

Connor raised a quizzical brow at her, surprised but also mildly intrigued.

"Why?"

"Her family swears by it." Ingrid chuckled.

Connor shrugged and then looked back up to the window of her room. Ingrid smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"I shall get cooking." She supplied and walked back towards the manor.

Connor watched her disappear into the manor then he again rested his eyes to the window. Then as if caught doing something wrong, he shook his head and turned away. He bit down on his jaw, taking a deep breath of the fresh spring air trying to distract himself. When he was prepared to run off into the wild, Hanna's hesitant voice called for him.

"C-Connor?"

Connor turned his head towards her. Hanna fidgeted with her folded hands, biting her lip.

"Yes?"

"Master wants to speak to you?"

"What for?"

"H-he did not say."

Connor looked away, released a breath through his nostrils, mildly annoyed. Without a word he walked towards the manor, Hanna almost fell off the porch when he stormed his way to the door.

"Ah, Connor, a word with you, please." Achilles stood in the hallway and gestured to his study.

Connor simply walked into Achilles study and stood in front of the crackling fire place. Achilles limped over to his favorite seat and sat down with a sigh.

"I have news pertaining _our dear friends._"

Connor snapped his attention at Achilles.

"I have to meet one of my contacts in New York, I will depart shortly and shall return in two weeks."

"Two weeks? What for - is it about _his_ whereabouts?"

"Possibly and more."

Connor turned his body around with his hand resting on his hatchet, facing Achilles.

"We should strike, Achilles. Now is the chance."

Achilles groaned.

"My boy that would be very tactless of us."

"How long do we have to idle? _I am prepared_!"

"Connor, this requires tactic and patience, we will strike them when they are at their most vulnerable, which is not now."

"How do you know? They won't expect us!"

Achilles groaned again, shaking his head.

"Need I remind you that your father not only is an _assassin_ but also _leading_ the Templars? He is very meticulous, ruthless and calculative, I would even say better than you – he is ready for a direct offense, actually, he is expecting that of the impulsive and hot head that you are."

Connor growled, locking his arms over his chest and glaring at Achilles.

"Connor," Achilles addressed him again in a crisp voice, "While I am away, I need you to meet another one of my contacts, remember John? The tall and lanky fellow with the freckles? April 20th, 10 days from today by midnight he will be at the Red Baron inn, south-west from this manor."

"Red Baron Inn?" Connor repeated with a mix of disbelief and skepticism "Don't the English have a foothold in that territory?"

"Precisely."

Connor raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"While you two are seated in the far back of the Inn, John will hand you a precious document and exchange information, I will have Miss Briar do some reconnaissance and be a distraction."

Connor almost choked from the sudden air in-take.

"_What?!_"

"You heard me, she will take part in it, I want to test her usefulness."

Connor stared at Achilles, speechless and unable to trust his ears.

"_Have you lost your senses completely?! She is not trained in the ways!"_ Conner countered filled with exasperation that he could barely finish his sentence, "She is…"

"Perfect."

Connor tightened his fists and took a deep growling breath.

"_I do not see her purpose in any of this_." He uttered through clenched teeth.

Achilles sighed contentedly despite Connor's obvious disapproval.

"I think we should take advantage of her, Connor, do you not agree?" Achilles responded back with his hands folded over his stomach as he leaned back into his comfy seat. "You have seen her abilities, why not test them?"

"She does not have much tact!"

"Neither do you, Connor." Achilles supplied with the corner of his mouth curled in amusement. "You together can plan this, as long as you retrieve the information and the document without much fuss or chaos, the rest is up to you. And… it is rumored _he might _make an appearance."

"_What_?!" Connor's body stiffened, his eyes glared a hole through Achilles' face and he reflexively held his hatchet.

"Hush, Connor, it is not certain, they are merely rumors and if it becomes a reality then you _absolutely must not engage him!_"

Connor gripped his hatchet sunken in dark thoughts that spread like a flame on his facial expression, forming a tunnel-like vision to his eyes.

"Argh!" Conner growled and grabbed his right shin, "What is wrong with you, old man!"

Achilles had given a deliberate and hard whack with his cane against Conner's shin. Achilles held an icy, menacing glare that even made Connor freeze and stare at him. He raised his index finger at Connor.

"If I hear from the Inn, the informant or even from Miss Briar that you foiled our plan – either by intervening or resorting to a brawl" Achilles said with a firm voice, sitting up with his finger still pointing at Connor while maintaining his icy unwavering glare "I will not hesitate to _break_ your legs and have Miss Briar _replace_ you, are we clear?"

Connor was stunned into silence. The air had thinned around them, as if the tension had squeezed out all oxygen. He never saw Achilles that way, was that his old assassin-self talking to him directly? Even if it was, his body made him understand that he did not want to be at the receiving end of that torture as his legs quivered slightly under his weight. Thankfully, he was kneeling on the floor, so Achilles couldn't see it.

Achilles released a breath, releasing the tension and returning the oxygen back into the air.

"Am I understood, Connor?" he reinforced now in a calm tone.

Connor quietly nodded and got up back to his feet, hissing softly at his sore shin.

"Now, if the rumor is true." Achilles continued after clearing his throat. "I need you to remain with the informant, dress in civilian clothes and remain low-key, sit in the back and ignore your surroundings. Miss Briar will be at the bar, engaging with the regulars and patrons, drawing all the attention to herself. I must emphasize this: under no circumstances can you intervene – she will be on her own."

Connor was about to open his mouth, but Achilles read his mind instantly.

"You both have to plan this together, what she is to wear, how she is to behave, find a secret gesture or secret word to signal the completion of your transaction, etc. Be creative."

Connor sighed.

"Does this mean that she should know about the Templars and our mission?"

Achilles shook his head immediately.

"No need, the more oblivious she is the better she will perform."

Connor raised his brow, baffled by what he just heard from Achilles' mouth.

"I question that logic, Achilles."

"For now ignorance is bliss, especially for this mission. We have no choice, if she knows who or what she is dealing with, she will likely expose the ruse."

Connor sighed one more time.

"Why are you placing a lot of trust in this woman that we barely know?"

"And why are you resisting her that much Connor?" Achilles sat up again, staring Connor straight in the eye, trying to decipher his hesitation. "What has she done to you to make you skeptical of her? Not once since her stay has she turned her back on us, in fact, she has proven herself worthy of our trust in your absence. It was very refreshing for someone of her caliber to take orders without questioning. I am convinced that she is an ally, a valuable one. Even though my word should ease you, I still see you hesitate and distrust her - why?"

Connor moved his lower jaw sideways and lowered his gaze momentarily.

"Do you still not trust her? Does she intimidate you?" asked Achilles in earnest now.

Connor didn't look at Achilles, his gaze remained fixed on a red blotch of a stain on the carpet, possibly from an accidental spill of wine.

"I am not certain what it is…" he replied in a pensive air. "I…admit that I am intimidated; it is not only by her strength but what she is capable of. With little effort, maybe even little convincing, she could switch camps."

Achilles hummed, acknowledging his worry, but then he huffed with a little smile and his eyes held a knowing glint.

"I am certain she is also provoking rather unfamiliar feelings in you."

Connor snapped his full attention at Achilles, he was a deer caught in the light and was too stunned to quickly dismiss that outrageous statement. He quickly turned his back on Achilles, staring in the small lazy flames licking the charcoaled logs, while his insides twisted.

"What are you talking about?" muttered Connor in an aloof tone.

Achilles gave a chuckle.

"I may be old, but my senses are sharp and I… was once in love."

"_In love_?!" Connor repeated with a snort of incredulity whipping his entire body around to face Achilles, "You are mistaken, old man."

"I might be, but realize this," Achilles gets up to his feet and picks up his cane and pokes him at the center of his chest cavity "Make sure you have _this_ sorted for the future and for this upcoming mission."

"Ingrid!" called Achilles suddenly, lowering his cane and limping towards the entrance of the manor.

"Yes, master?"

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, master. Hanna has just loaded your luggage in the back of the carriage and the carriage is waiting for you."

"Good."

Ingrid came over and helped him slide his traveling cloak on. Connor lumbered towards the entrance way, his aloof expression on display but on the inside he just wanted to spend a few days alone with nature to recollect his thoughts.

As Achilles stood ready in the entrance way with his hat on, cane in hand, he surveyed Connor and Ingrid.

"I shall be away for two weeks, 10 days at least, in New York. I should return on the last week of April. However, depending on the circumstances, I might extend my stay there until May 1st , if I do I shall inform you know by mail."

Ingrid replied with a "Yes, master" while Connor merely nodded. Ingrid went to help Achilles down the stairs and into carriage, while Connor silently followed them. The carriage left and Ingrid headed back into the manor.

Connor stood on the path, watching the carriage disappear behind the trees and around the bend. Achilles could have taken the ship to New York, but he appeared to feel safer on land, maybe it was an age thing. In his prime he never appeared to mind it. Connor never knew what to feel when he saw Achilles in this state, it was maybe a youth thing but he dreaded the time where he would be reduced to similar state like Achilles.

He shook his head quickly and looked at the Meryl's window. It was lifeless. He looked away, sighing deeply with his hands resting on his waist. His thoughts were still in a mess, especially since he would have to face her and plan this mission out with her. He suddenly realized that Achilles had given him full reign of his own mission, meaning Achilles had laid out the ground rules and he had the liberty to execute it as he sees fit. His stomach fluttered with excitement and he felt empowered.

Then he heard the loud snap and scraping sound of wood against wood. He raised his eyes and saw Meryl struggling to raise the window frame and with a _clack_ the window snapped in place and she poked her head out.

"Oiiiii Connor! Do you have a minute?" Meryl called, her face still looked pale and anemic.

Connor walked up the stairs and responded with a reprimand.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

"Jeez, chill! I am gonna go back to bed, just give me a minute! Now answer my question: are you preoccupied?"

"No."

"Will you be preoccupied for the next several days?"

"I am not certain-

-Good! I need somebody to tend to Kazuma, he's been driving me crazy! He's been chewing on the carpet, the curtains and now _my precious boots_! Please, for the love of God take him before I decide to skin him and use his skin and fur to make myself a new pair of boots!"

Meryl looked desperate, she was hormonal, not feeling well and positively distraught by the loss of her expensive leather boots. She should have brought the heavier winter footwear that all New Yorkers wore during blizzards which were almost like hiking boots.

Connor held back from chuckling, clearing his throat.

"You find this funny?" Meryl exclaimed, her eyes had gotten teary from anger. "I paid a _fortune_ for these with the first job I had! It was made of the best leather too."

She rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

"Where is he?"

"In the kitchen with Hanna. Thank you." She mumbled closing the window without looking at Connor and she disappeared from view.

Connor made his way back into the manor and entered the kitchen.

"Ah, poor thing." Marie mumbled as she was stirring something at the stove.

"Where is Kazuma?" Connor asked, as he stood in the kitchen, peering over in the corners and around the kitchen for the wolf.

"Hanna just took him out." Marie stated but was interrupted by an angry quip from Ingrid.

"I think we should have him stay outside from now on. He is destroying everything!"

"He is an animal of the forest, not a domesticated animal." Connor supplied.

"Tell that to her." Ingrid growled, "I knew this would lead to trouble! I have never seen her so worked over _a pair of boots_!"

'Hush, Ingrid, you are being unreasonable." Marie countered in a firm tone. "Her boots had clearly some sentimental value to her, if somebody destroyed my prized brush I would be as miserable as she is, right Connor?"

Connor blinked a few times, thrown off guard that he was dragged into a women's quarrel. He felt Ingrid and Marie's gaze on him.

"I will get her a new pair."

Marie and Ingrid looked at each other, surprised by his statement.

"Connor, you would be willing to undertake this?" Marie asked.

He nodded like it was not a problem. Ingrid and Marie looked at each other.

"Honey, shopping for boots, for a woman especially, is no easy feat." Marie warned him.

"Either she will have to come with you, or you must get her measurement down, Mäuschen."

"It shall be done."

The women looked at each other, baffled by how calm Connor was about this, but they relented.

"I need Hanna for some chores, can you tend to Kazuma?" Ingrid asked which Connor responded with a nod.

"She asked me to watch him for the next several days. I might undertake a journey to my people and let her rest." Connor said, but then remembered something. "Before I leave, Achilles wanted me to talk to her."

"I hope it will not add oil to the already raging flame, honey."

Connor shook his head.

"It shouldn't."

Marie eyed him.

"Make it quick, women during their time of the month are very temperamental and impatient."

He nodded slowly, the wheels slowly turning in his head as he was on the verge of changing his mind.

"Oh, Marie, stop painting all women like that!" Ingrid argued with a huff. "Miss Briar is anything but temperamental; she might be sullen but not irrational or unreasonable. Connor, if it is important business, discuss it with her immediately and let her think about it."

Connor regained his confidence.

"_Try_ not to anger her, honey." Marie supplied, eyeing Connor almost pleadingly.

Then in-sync both Ingrid and Marie called "Thank you, Connor."

Connor gave them a small smile and went up the stairs.

* * *

"Fuck life, fuck this shit, fuck that wolf!" grumbled Meryl as she lounged in her bed, feeling like shit. "I would give anything to have some fucking chocolate right now! And some chips, some beer, some coke and a hamburger with bacon and cheese all over it!"

She whined and she kicked the covers when she saw her gnawed boots. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She got up from the bed, wrapped the blanket around her frame and walked over to the fire place. They had dressed her in her long night gown with some serious diaper-rag thing to stop the bloody Niagara Falls. She was _advised _not to get out of bed, but fuck the rules! She wanted to see what books could keep her company for the next few days of bed rest.

"Jonathan Swift's _Gulliver's Travels_… Mhhh, sounds familiar."

She grabbed the dusty tome and walked over to the seat and sat down. As she snuggled herself in, she heard the familiar lumbering steps against the floorboard in the hallway. Her heart hammered and she cleared her throat to slow the beating.

A pronounced knock echoed and she responded quickly.

"Come in."

The door opened and he stepped in and closed the door behind him. He remained in front of the door, motionless.

"Hi Connor, what's up?"

He was staring at the back of the seat since it faced him. He shuffled his feet.

"How are you feeling?"

Meryl smiled to herself and thanked the seat for covering her expression.

"I could be doing better. How about you?"

"Good. Do you have a moment?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Achilles had to tend a business matter in New York. He wanted me to discuss with you about a job."

"A job?" Meryl repeated, dropped the book and turned around to look at Connor with surprise.

He slowly moved into the room so that he stood across from her seat. He took the chair that was next to the table and brought it close, twirling it around so that he sat with the back support in front of him. Meryl was completely captivated by what he was going to say.

"As you may have gathered the nature of our work, Achilles has decided to entrust you with a mission."

"REALLY?!" she squealed, covering her mouth her face lit up like seeing fireworks going off.

Connor raised a quizzical eyebrow in her direction and cleared his throat.

"We both have to dress in civilian clothes and go to an Inn occupied by the English. I am responsible to interact with one of our contacts and you have to distract/entertain the patrons and English militia there."

"Ohhhh, dangerous, lllllove it." She responded with a confident smile, but then her eyes sharpened. "Do you want me to gather intel? You know, information on the British military movement?"

"Achilles primarily wants you to keep the attention away from me and the contact. You are at liberty to gather information and keep all patrons preoccupied, however we must avoid any conflict and keep your liquor intake low." He explained, then his face hardened to reveal the essential part of the mission. "You will be on your own. I cannot intervene."

"Is it because you are quite popular among the Brits?"

Connor didn't have to respond in any way, but that clearly was the case.

"No worries, I am sure I can manage but we'll need some secret signal or word to let me know when you are finished."

"We will discuss and plan it later as at present you need to focus on your recovery. What do you say, are you in?"

"_Fuck yes, Connor! _Do you have any idea how long I was waiting for _THIS?_" she blurted with her fists raised in determination and excitement. "I will knock you guys off your feet with my awesome performance!"

For a split second the corner of Connor's mouth curled with satisfaction and he gave a nod. He got up from the chair and returned it back in its proper place.

"The mission begins in 10 days on the 20th, it will give you ample time to recover. We will discuss the mission in more detail in the next few days. For now, I will visit my people with Kazuma for the next 3 days, I will be back Thursday morning."

He moved to the door, but Meryl called him back before he could leave.

"Connor?"

"Yes?"

"As Kazuma destroyed my only pair of footwear, do you know where I can get some?"

Connor stood in front of her again.

"Ingrid, Hanna or Marie might have a spare pair at present, but we can also procure you some." He suggested and then remembered something as he walked back into the room "I would need your foot measurements, I believe you should possess a special pair more suitable for movement."

"Hand-made?" Meryl gaped.

He nodded. He kneeled down and gestured his hand towards her foot. She pulled her foot from under the blanket and placed it flat on the cool wooden floor. He pulled a leather strand from his sleeve and began to wrap it around her ankle and cut the measurement. Then he repeated the same action measuring, cutting that long leather band that kept his sleeve in place. During that time he was so gentle with her foot, gingerly moving it as if her foot was made of glass. She smiled again.

"I guess, being there in person would be easier."

"Yes, it would. I am sure I can find someone with the same measurement." He said without looking at her, focused on the task in front of him.

"I would like to see them." The words escaped her mouth unconsciously which made Connor halt in his movements and look up at her.

Meryl gasped when she realized what she said.

"Oh, I-I mean, y-you know." She stammered.

After staring at her for a few uncomfortable minutes, he returned his attention to the task and finished it. He got up with the leather bands in hand and placed them in his pouch behind his back.

"I am certain it can be arranged." He responded very calmly, not understanding the implication of her words which made her gesticulated nervously with her hands.

"Oh, don't feel rushed by it – I- I am simply curious." She stuttered and chuckled nervously.

He rolled his neck and rolled his arms back, to release some tensions in his neck, chest and shoulders. Meryl couldn't help herself but watch his muscular torso expand and move, his pecks making the fabric of his shirt tighten and almost tear. When her eyes trailed up to his face, she was met with his steady gaze. She froze unable to take her eyes off of him and he reciprocated, not breaking eye contact with her. She saw his jaw move sideways only subtlety, he appeared to be hesitating about something. The tension rose between them the longer they stared at each other and thank God he was the first one to make a retreat.

"I shall take my leave, Kazuma will be with me, so you do not need to worry about him." He announced after clearing his throat, which did clear the air as well.

Meryl too snapped out of it and responded back with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Connor, it means a lot to me."

He made his way to the door and left the room quietly, while Meryl smiled widely to herself.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

**Hiya guys XD How y'all doing? I hope good. It's been an interesting month in February. Already a month has passed into my internship and guys...OH MA GAWD, I touched an 18th century petition signed by loyalists (British-lovers in colonial America). I can't even! This is...all this is calling my name... I'm meant to be in contact with 18th century America! (Just imagine me cuddling up with an 18th century document and whispering sweeet nothings at it .) . I am helping out on an exhibit which will be on display to the public sometime in September. I swear, once I see the end product, imma cry so bad . So, I am currently running a high that is just too good to be true...**

**Anyway, back to fanfiction. I am sorry that I am a little distracted with my internship, classes and family life. I will try keeping regular updates, but once things start picking up i.e shit hitting the fan (mostly due to class) there will be some stagnation. And at present, my mind is very restless, so finding the time and patience to churn out another chapter will be a little challenging... So I ask you in advance please bear with me and I am sorry for future late updates. Here, I send you bagillion "sorry" bouquets.**

**Have a wonderful weekend and good luck with life, because imma need it naaaoooow~**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE**

**~ Exposure ~**

Well, Connor did stay away for three days with Kazuma. It felt quite empty without that rascal, but it really did help her to focus on her recovery. The first two days was spent sleeping, changing the rags, snacking, reading books and if she was lucky maybe an _assisted_ step outside on the porch.

That chicken liver diet was working wonders at least to her energy levels and her overall health. Even though she was pretty much on a Paleolithic diet, according to 21st century terms, it did work wonders to her body and mind, it was better than all the garbage she ate at home. It made her wonder how much 21st century food was overly processed and possibly toxic… Well, lovely food for thought once she gets back home.

She woke up on the third day filled with enough energy to stand up without getting some dizzy spells, but as advised and she agreed, she will take it easy. Then it suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks, she realized that her period had finally returned after YEARS of being on hiatus. And no, it wasn't a product of her birth control, in fact she was diagnosed as a hopeless case, some weird genetic something that destroyed her ability to reproduce, so yes, infertile as fuck. She was diagnosed with that thing after she served the Marines after she realized that her period had stopped all together.

The news did not affect her that much since she was pretty pissed with being "let go" or "honorably discharged". But by some miracle her period was back and now it seems she was a normally functioning woman once again. Now she's gonna have to be careful with who and when she screws. Scratch that 18th century men carried probably more STDs per capita than the modern day world.

"Well, I certainly didn't miss you _fucker_." She mumbled looking down at her crotch. "Not only have you scarred Connor with your entrance but you have placed me on bed rest for 3 days, good job."

She got out of bed and walked over to her vanity dresser. She saw her own reflection, scanning what the months in 18th century America had done to her. Her face had definitely filled out more, giving her a more well-fed and plump face which was a bit weathered by the sun and cold. She definitely wasn't fat, she had become stocky and more robust with just a slightly more defined curvy frame. Not curvy-licious like Marie, but enough to create a great cleavage that she could never achieve in the past. She did shed the Marine physique after she left and became more skinny and lithe through Kung Fu as it uses muscles differently. Kung Fu was never about having a physique of a beast but more about being agile, elegant and quick like a crane or a snake, according to Master Kang anyway.

Aaand she's been slacking with Kung Fu and itching for a fight, a kind of fight that will leave her sore. At least, she was going to do a mission with Connor, but this one would require her _female prowess _rather than her physical capabilities.

She got changed into her neutral blue linen dress since her hide clothes had been destroyed. They had given her some kind of slippers made of some tartan fabric. It literally looked like somebody had taken a piece of old carpet and cut the shape and glued it on the wooden soles of the shoes. And no, not 21st century definition of slippers, it was those shitty shoes that pinched at the toes and lacked any reinforcements in the ankles. It was almost the same ones that caused her to "fall" into Alexander's arms up in the fancy parlor. Wearing clogs or even crocs would feel heavenly in comparison.

Meryl walked out of her room and slowly made her way down to the kitchen.

"Oh, morning hun!" called out Marie with a beaming smile and gave her a warm hug. "How are you?"

"Much better, but I will play it safe as I still feel weak."

Marie chuckled and patted her head.

"Good girl, have a seat and I will arrange for your breakfast."

"Thank you." Meryl sat down. "I am happy you didn't chase me back to my room, unlike Ingrid…"

"Oh hun, I would get bored out of my mind too if I had to stay in my room like that." She chuckled "You still look a little ill and your complexion needs more color and life – a nice breakfast and some fresh air afterwards should do the trick."

Meryl grinned, the first time in days which made Marie excited.

* * *

Meryl sat outside on the porch at the entrance of the manor, pushing pebbles and little rocks with her toes. She took a deep breath, letting the fresh spring air inflate her lungs. It was the early afternoon, she just had lunch and felt much better than she had in days. She had most of her energy back at least in her mind, but her body was still in the period-mode, doing its shedding and purging. The first three days were always hellish and she finally remembered it now. Had it been really that long since she had her last period? Either way, 18th century America made an obviously barren women like herself fertile again, she will have to watch herself now, big time. No time to fuck around, both literally and metaphorically.

A howl echoed. Her body jerked and she stood up, her feet carrying her to the stairs. She walked down and stood on the path leading away from the manor. Another howl thundered but it came from the front beyond the stone wall lining the path.

"Kazuma!" she called out, "Here boy!"

She heard some movement from the forest and before long a black wolf burst forth and ran at full steam towards her. He gave a loud excited bark. He ran, panting hard and jumped over the stone wall and successfully pounced on Meryl, making her fall to the ground. He licked her face clean as she laughed. She patted and rubbed him down, snuggling with him.

"How's my baby boy? Did you have fun with Connor?"

He snorted and gave her more licks in the face, his tail wagging so hard. She gently pushed him aside, dusted off her dress at her backside and front and stood up. And before long, Connor emerged from the forest approaching the manor in slower speed from the same direction as Kazuma.

"Boy, why don't you go say hi to Hanna?" Meryl cooed and Kazuma sharped his ears, his eyes wide and giddy.

He made a run for it, running around the manor and disappearing out of sight.

In calm strides, Connor walked around the stone wall, entering a small space and stepping onto the path. Meryl approached him and noticed he had a sack slung over his shoulder.

"Hi, did you enjoy your stay?" Meryl greeted him, unable to contain herself from smiling at him.

Momentarily his mouth was parted, as if he was trying to respond back but was either surprised of her presence or her attitude towards him. That was fine, she could do the talking.

"I hope Kazuma wasn't a trouble."

"Uhh," he cleared his throat as if he hadn't spoken in days "No, he wasn't. They liked him."

"Of course they did, I trained him." She chuckled, "Were you able to relax with your people – you know, enjoy your time with them?"

Connor nodded mechanically.

"I…I brought you something."

Meryl's face lit up as he handed her the sack. She took it and pulled the strings apart and peered inside. She raised her eyes with disbelief and awe.

"Connor, you shouldn't have!" she squealed as the excitement seized her body.

Connor was unsure how to react, his facial expression tense but a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She pulled out a pair of shoes which were more like ankle-height moccasins, the same ones he wore except hers were minutely embellished with some tiny beads on the sides and of course slimmer and smaller in size. Her eyes were wide and she was agape as she looked at Connor and back at the moccasins. She walked up the stairs and sat down on the right side and far end of the porch, took off her shoes and tossed them aside on the ground.

Meryl slipped them on and stood on the ground.

"How are they?" he asked, she spun her head in his direction.

"They pinch a little but after some breaking in I am sure they'll fit, otherwise they hug my feet like hugging puppies!" She said as she went down on her knees, testing them.

She walked around and jumped, but hissed a little.

"I guess my soles are gonna have to thicken and harden a little, because I can feel everything."

"It is better that way. It will teach you how to move more stealthily."

"I see…" she sighed, but then walked over to him with a beaming smile as he stood at the bottom of the porch with a polite distance from her. "Connor, thank you so much, you didn't have to do this."

He kept that small smile at the corner of his mouth which Meryl noticed for the first time in a while. And yes, the small smile finally vanished and his neutral and aloof expression returned.

"A person of your character needs proper shoes."

"A person of my character?" she repeated with a chuckle, "Uhm, thanks."

She tightened her mouth, she did not want to start a fight and after a quick breath intake she read his statement as a compliment

"I would have phrased it differently, but thank you." She supplied with a grin. "Now I owe you a favor."

She approached him, but saw his body become tense and his face revealed a guarded expression.

"Thank you, I mean it, Connor." She declared directly with unwavering eye contact. "I will cherish it and make great use of it."

Connor held eye contact, his usual calm demeanor returning to his overall body language and face. He nodded in acknowledgment towards her gratitude.

After a pause of staring at him, he was the first to clear his throat and the gravity of his thoughts reflected in his face.

"Are you preoccupied at present?"

"Nope, why?"

He approached her and lowered his voice.

"In an hour, meet me in the parlor upstairs."

She gaped and her heart lurched.

"_Why_?"

He raised a brow at her.

"For the mission of course."

It took a moment for her to register

"Ohhhhhhhhh! Okay, yeah, mission, right." She chuckled nervously

"What other-

-Just go do your errand and I will see you later!" she interjected quickly with a smile and walked towards the entrance with her back turned towards him. "You better not be late."

Before he could respond she had closed the door on him.

* * *

The grandfather clock ticked loudly as Meryl sat on the upholstered couch, her gaze staring absentmindedly at the cleaned out fireplace.

A shiver went down her spine. _Damn this room! _

_And fuck Alexander!_

After all these months she was back in this infamous parlor where she had her _delightful _one-on-one with Alexander. This was the moment where she realized if she had engaged further in Alexander's shenanigans she would be fucked. It was a slippery slope, a very slippery one.

_Why in the fucks did they have to meet in this damn parlor?! Any other room, even Connor's or her own would do the job just fine!_

It was 1:55 PM.

_Connor has five minutes to get his ass in this room_.

Meryl groaned and stomped her feet against the polished floorboard. Then with a huff she jumped to her feet causing the floorboard to moan against her weight. She paced around the room, she could swear that she caught a lingering whiff of Alexander's almost exotic cologne. The scent of a floral black tea, jasmine and the likes it softened his scent almost giving him a feminine scent. Yet he appeared to counteract it with an earthiness and the sharpness of lavender.

_That fucker! _

Even when he was not near her he still left his mark somewhere, whether it was a letter, a memory or a scent. Psh!

With a grunt she opened the window, allowing the warm spring air to flood and invigorate the room that had been stale for several months. She rested her forearms on the window sill and stared out where the Atlantic Ocean and the horizon met.

She wanted to go for a swim again.

_Creak._

Meryl spun around and went into her fighting stance, legs parted forward and fist raised and parted too. When she encountered the source of the creaking floorboard, her entire guarded stance fell and she glared.

"Connor for fucks' sake!" she groaned and relaxed herself. "Stop sneaking!"

Connor had just entered the room, his bulky frame and presence sending sparks of tension into the room.

"I did knock."

She gave him a face of attitude and dismissed the entire thing.

"So, is there a reason why we have to meet in this room?"

"It's out of earshot." He stated deadpan, but then some tension appeared between his eyebrows. "Does this room bother you?"

"Maybe," she replied curtly "This room is gorgeous too, it would be a pity that I stain anything with my bleeding."

Her words did not affect him, rather it appeared he ignored it and immediately took a jab at her.

"Does it make you think…of Mr. Leighton?"

Meryl tried to hide how stunned she was, but it failed as she had become speechless and her eyes were wide. She saw tension grow in his face spreading from between his eyebrows to his eyes and then his jaw. Then something clicked in her mind and instead of being calm about it she became tense

"Are you…testing me? Why?"

Connor stiffened, his eyes shifted between her and the floor.

"I wanted to be certain that you would be capable-

-or check on my relationship status. If you want to know, yes we've been sending _boring_ letters back and forth and no I wouldn't consider us being serious, maybe he is. He did… propose to me."

Connor's body stiffened even more and his lips grew tight.

"He did propose…when?" Connor sounded quieter than usual.

Meryl knew he was visibly affected by the proposal and continued her aloof tone while carefully scrutinizing his expressions and body language.

"After we had our fall-out in the kitchen and we had a meal he straight up proposed in front of Achilles." Meryl then gave an amused chuckle at the situation, she crossed her arms and averted her gaze thinking about the memory. "Then the sneaky bastard that he is, he trapped me with a proposal in front of Achilles."

"What did you say?" he blurted out impatiently without thought, his eyes were narrowed with anger.

Meryl hesitated.

She had two choices. She could be a douche and ridicule his abnormal curiosity or casually continue the conversation. She chose the latter because she was fascinated how he was getting worked up over this.

"I said _no_ of course." She snorted and crossed her arms to affirm her rejection. "Please, I am a woman of unrealistically high standards. It takes more than _sweet words _to pin me down, both figuratively and literally."

His entire demeanor thawed and slowly the tension in his face dissipated.

Meryl couldn't help but smile confidently at what she saw and of course, as astute and observant as Connor was, he went on a defensive lock down.

"What is it?" he snarled.

Meryl grinned.

"Connor actually cares about my life that is very thoughtful of you."

Connor scrunched his mouth and was about to open it before Meryl came over to his side and rested her hand on his forearm to silence him. He went quiet, his chestnut eyes searing through her left cheek as she was staring at the door in front of him.

She maintained her playful behavior.

"If it is any comfort," her eyes shot up to his and she declared directly. "You are probably the closest to pinning me down."

Connor's eyes widened but his mouth was glued shut while she exchanged a prolonged look in his direction. Her heart hammered wildly against her chest. She saw he was still stunned or bewildered by what had happened or what she said.

Meryl gave a pleasant pat on his shoulder and moved towards the door.

"I think we can talk about the mission tomorrow, you look tired and I need a bath right now." She sighed as she rolled her neck.

Her lip curled in a playful smile again.

"You know you can join me if you want?" she peeked over her shoulder in a suggestive lip-biting face.

Connor spun his attention her and gave a contemptuous snort coupled by a firm and resolute crossing of arms and a glare. Meryl chuckled and left the room to retreat into her room for the day.

* * *

Meryl got her well-deserved hot bath which she helped make happen by helping out and persuading them that her body needed some relaxation. 18th century still had that belief that too much bathing was bad, but she convinced them and that was the important part.

Her old oval barrel was set up again in front of the fireplace with just herself while the sun had begun to set. The room grew darker as it time passed.

A gentle knock momentarily stunned her. She snapped her attention back to the folded screen that obstructed the view of the door.

"Come in." she sighed.

The door opened and Marie appeared carrying a tray of hot tea and some snacks.

"Hun, you still soakin?"

"Yes, it is enjoyable and…even quite romantic." Added Meryl with a snarky tone towards the end.

"Romantic? Cravin' some _flesh to flesh,_ hun?"

Meryl chuckled.

"I don't need to lie, especially to you, I know you could probably smell from a mile away that I haven't had any so to speak "flesh-to-flesh"." Then Meryl eyed Marie carefully. "How about you?"

Marie shrank back startled by Meryl's question. It looked like she caught Marie completely off guard, even completely disarmed her.

"Uh huh yes, you're right – it's been a while." Marie stammered awfully clumsily and entirely out of her composed and languid character.

Meryl jumped on the wagon of curiosity and sat up, eyeing Marie more eager and curious than before.

"Ohhhhh, Marie is screwing someone, aren't cha?"

Marie's cheeks flushed into the darkest shade of red which made her glow with a sensuality that it even affected Meryl. Marie's beauty became tenfold when she displayed that shyness.

"Well, if he makes you blush like that, he must be quite a lover." Meryl supplied calmly, deciding to look away and not pry Marie further. "Don't worry I won't bother you about it, but…do the others know about it?"

Marie eagerly and even anxiously shook her head. Meryl saw the nervousness and tension in her milky brown eyes.

"So, it is a well-hidden secret, then?" Meryl added after a pause. "What is his name?"

"James." She breathed with her eyes lowered to her folded hands on her lap.

After another pause, Meryl's face lit up with mischief.

"Is he great in bed?"

Marie's head shot up and her entire face was red. She was as star struck as a deer in the head lights, utterly exposed to Meryl. She couldn't take it anymore and laughed.

"Hun…" Marie tried in vain to argue but her body and face gave away how affected she was.

"So, Marie can be a little shy. You know what it means, that he is the one." Meryl then gave her a wink and lowered her voice. "… and that he is so great in bed, lucky you!"

Marie cracked an ambivalent smile.

"But now that I have a lot of leverage over you, it seems only fair that I tell you my secret."

"That you love Connor?" Marie interjected, the sass had returned in her proud eyebrow raise.

Meryl's heart lurched and she quickly cleared her throat.

"How did you know?" Meryl whispered.

"Hun, I can see when a woman wants a man and you, hun, you are droolin' for him."

Meryl lowered her body further into the bath water, so that the water came just under her lower lips.

Marie had regained her full self and came over to Meryl, kneeled down so that she could cross her arms and rest it over the rims of the barrel-bathtub. She looked her dead straight in the face, not caring about the invasion of privacy. Marie rested her hand on Meryl's head. She looked at her.

"You are holding back."

"No shit, Marie."

"Hun, you don't understand, you are holding back for a reason."

"I know that, Marie, it is not old news." Meryl sat up and draped her forearms over the brim of the bathtub.

Marie then squeezed her arm to get her attention.

"Don't you see that your reason is an obstacle to your happiness?"

Meryl looked Marie dead straight in the eyes with a grave expression.

"That reason is legitimate, Marie. I…I just can't get attached."

Marie studied her carefully with a mix of skepticism.

"You are willing to shun your happiness for that reason?"

"Yes." Meryl declared firmly but then groaned as she covered her face. "And how do I know if he even likes me? One moment he is nice and next he is distrustful of me."

Marie chuckled softly then patted her head.

"I know he fancies you, hun."

"What?!" Meryl jerked and shot her attention to Marie with a disbelieved face. "How –how?"

Marie gave another pat on her head, this time it was a little more patronizing.

"Hun, you should know by now that nothing escapes my sight." She stated and then lowered her voice too. "I would even say that the attraction is mutual, maybe equally as rabid as yours."

Meryl's face did turn red and her heart shot to her throat, but in the back of her mind she knew or felt that it had been obvious all along. Yet, of course, anybody who had some shred of low self-esteem or self-doubt like herself, would question that attraction. Men found her too crazy, too independent, too fiery, too aggressive, sometimes too raunchy and even too emotionally distant. She was and is damaged…

"Hun." Marie's calming southern drawl drew her attention as she placed her hand on her arm once more. "Trust me, the way he looks at you when you are not looking, the way he behaves in your presence and the times he took care of you as you were unconscious – even you as a grown woman must have noticed it. Only a man who truly cares would do that to someone they fancy."

"What if he is being polite and attentive like a friend?" Meryl's mouth of course ran off without her consent.

Marie gave her languid chuckle.

"It could be a possibility, but it is unlikely – I would say that he is as torn as you are, struggling to follow his obligations or his heart."

"How do you know all this? Did he tell you?" now Meryl began to be suspicious of her words and its effect it had on her.

"Hun, if you don't believe me, you could always use your _womanly charms _to verify it."

"Yeah, like you guys forcing me to _become acquainted _with Mr. Leighton."

"Possibly."

Meryl gasped then whacked Marie's arm.

"I knew it! Who all is involved?"

"Just me, hun, just me."

"I don't believe you!"

"You don't have to – use that to get Connor's reaction."

"That strategy is a bad idea, Marie and you know it!"

Marie just shrugged.

"Anyway, you've been soaking in this bath for long enough, hun. I want to have this bath removed by Connor as soon as possible."

Meryl growled.

"Okay, it was getting too cold anyway." She grumbled.

"I need to tend to some chores. Give us a call when you are fully clothed." Marie stated as she left the room and exited into the hallway.

* * *

Marie groaned to herself as she stood in the hallway. A loud creak from a door drew her full attention. It came from the right at the far end of the hallway. Her frown deepened.

"Of course." She grumbled to herself and made her way down to the door that had just shut.

Without much care she simply barged into the room and closed the door behind her. Her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed with annoyance.

"I should have expected you to be snooping about her door."

Connor frowned and shook his head strongly.

"I wasn't."

"Connor, how much did you eavesdrop?"

"I did not eavesdrop. I just happened to walk by."

Marie snorted, but then decided to pursue another more interesting topic. Connor stood next to his bed with a skeptical eyes resting on her. It looked like he sensed something was going to go down soon. She made her way to the fire place, she stoked the dying fire by adding more logs.

By the time the flames happily crackled did she turn her full attention to his now standing figure.

"You need to sort out your feelings, Connor."

He furrowed his eyebrows at her and crossed his arms over his chest, as he felt somewhat threatened by her words.

"What do you speak of?"

Marie rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation.

"I know that you fancy, Miss Briar."

He locked his jaw and kept a very steady gaze in her direction.

"I am not certain what you are referring to."

Marie pressed on. If he wasn't going to admit it on the spot, he would simply have to listen to her.

"If you care or don't want to lose her to Mr. Leighton, I would listen if I were you."

He merely looked at her, remaining aloof and detached from the whole thing.

"Why should I care?"

Marie snorted and walked up to him, lowering her voice and eyeing him very sternly.

"I have seen you linger in front of her door many times." She whispered in earnest, but then a playful smile teased her lips, "I am more curious what your thoughts are, especially when you stand there at night?"

Connor's body stiffened and he involuntarily swallowed. Marie's smile widened but also quickly faded into a calm expression.

"I did not come here to embarrass you but to merely remind you _if you might have any interest for Miss Briar _that another charming and handsome man is vying for her attention."

"So?" he remarked in a curt tone which made Marie smile with satisfaction as she had caught just a glimpse of his anger.

"Well, if you are fine with Miss Briar lying in another man's arms then –

"Stop it!" he barked with impatience, "I have to prepare for a mission and cannot be thinking of this!"

Marie was mildly surprised by his reaction and waited until his seething anger was under his control when his breathing evened out. She placed her hand against his forearm and gave a gentle squeeze to draw his full attention.

"I know your responsibilities are very important to both yours and Achilles' purpose, but please…" she squeezed his arm gently again, her milky brown eyes softened by her experience, "do not deny yourself that one happiness, because once you do, it will haunt you forever."

Connor remained stone faced while maintaining eye contact with her.

"If you truly care for her, make her aware of it." Marie stated in a very simple but meaningful tone and gave a gentle pat on his forearm.

She left the room, leaving a decidedly affected Connor sunken in his own thoughts.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

**Uhm, hii~ Hope everybody's doing fine. I'm fine... I am currently locked up in my captain quarters on board my ship aptly named "Jeannaly's sanity" which is taking at present lot of beating from the apocalyptic weather at sea. My crew has begone to spontaneously die of scurvy, abandon ship or mutiny. So far, I've been holding down the fort pretty well, they tried to ram my door to my quarters but I've barricaded myself good. So yeah, I am doing fine, just fine...Yup, just fine.**

**Anyhow! Thank you for your support, kind words of encouragement and your attention in these dark times at sea [Pss, *cough*all of this is a metaphor, okay? I am really not at sea .] Even to the quiet readers out there, thank you too.**

**Have a wonderful weekend!**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY SIX**

**~ Duty: the greatest obstacle in life ~**

In the awkwardness that was so common and natural between Meryl and Connor, they did spend time planning out their mission together.

She realized with sad clarity that Connor was not really a tactician. His strategy was shoot first and ask questions later.

This did not mean he was stupid, on the contrary he always had a knack for sneaking and striking his opponents' weaknesses both physically and mentally only relying on his instincts rather than logic. He was very head strong and very impulsive, most likely a combination of his character and this male youth trait that Achilles kept grilling him about. He was without a doubt a formidable opponent who had the element of surprise and some God damn luck on his side.

And here we have Meryl, a retired Marine who was conditioned with discipline, order and strategy with the goal of maximizing efficiency and survival while always having a backup plan in case of a fuck up. However, this did not mean that Meryl never reacted upon impulse, it was actually her impulse that got her into the Marine Corps and it was also impulse that got her out of it. And impulse also got her into the 18th century since she had decided to follow Connor rather than call for back up. Her moment of discipline was during her Marine Corps training and battlefield experience and also remaining a Kung Fu instructor. She wasn't the perfect Marine by any means, she probably was the worst at times. Either way, herself and Connor both were veterans in their fields, which meant they would butt heads and this they did.

"Connor we gotta be a little more tactful about this. I think my shtick of the damsel's carriage gone rogue and taking off with her luggage is better than…your thing."

"I do not like how much attention you will be drawing to yourself. It is an inn renowned for its belligerent drunkards."

"That is the whole point though! You are supposed to do your secretive transactions in the back while I entertain the mass!" Meryl stated with an exasperated tone, her nails almost dug into the arm rests of the upholstered seat in her room. "You still don't trust my abilities."

"I don't."

"Wow, jeez, thanks for the support." She groaned, "Have you forgotten about the other times that I have survived just fine, mhh?"

"This is different."

"How the _fuck _is this different?" Meryl leaped out of her seat, almost knocking over the table between them. "Why do you still doubt my abilities after all these months that I have spent with you and the others at the Davenport manor?"

"It requires skills that you do not have."

"_Skills that I do not have!_" exclaimed Meryl, seething with anger as her body trembled. "I dare you to say that after I give you permanent brain damage!"

"You do not know how to be stealthy."

"_And you cannot plan worth a damn!_" she barked back, "simply walking in with your already obvious mercenary attire and expecting nobody to notice you is nonsensical. I mean come on! _You stick out like a sore thumb!_"

Connor sat as still and as aloof as usual on the chair, sitting with the back support of the chair pressing against his chest while his folded arms rested on top. Meryl huffed hard, then a realization struck her.

"Are you worried that I would take credit for all this? Is that why you are so reluctant towards me."

"No." he promptly answered, "I simply do not like your methods."

Meryl snarled at him. She was growing more irate as she watched how unnaturally calm he remained throughout the planning process. She took a deep breath. She couldn't do this anymore.

"I am done with this." She declared with resolution and pointed an accusing finger at him "I am done with you!"

She stormed to the door to get the fuck out of the room and away from his unbearable presence. Yet as she gripped the door handle, he slammed his palm against the door just above her head to prevent her from getting out.

The corner of her nostril trembled and she glared in his direction. Then with a swift thrust of her index finger and middle finger combined she jabbed him in a pressure point inside his upper arm. He grasped his arm with a pained groaned, as it was locked in place. In the moment that he demanded for an explanation, she delivered a hard kick to the chest causing him to stumble backwards on the table and crush it with a thunderous clatter and thud.

The patter of footsteps approached before the door was pushed open by Ingrid, Marie and Hanna.

"What in Lord-

"You destroyed the table?!" Ingrid exclaimed as she glared at Meryl and Connor as she gripped her weapon of choice, a broomstick, until her white trembling knuckles were visible.

Hanna immediately ran over to Connor's side, assisting him.

Meryl's chest heaved, her fiery eyes having not left Connor's at first protesting then bewildered expression.

"Schatz? Have you… done this?" asked Ingrid with uncertainty, unwilling to believe what happened.

Meryl did not respond. She saw how Hanna had a protective arm around Connor's frame while her face matched the disbelief of Ingrid and Connor.

Meryl withdrew her raised fists and parted legs to return to her regular stance. Without a word or acknowledgement of the others in the room other than Connor, she walked past Ingrid and Marie and left the room silently.

In the hallway she was met with Kazuma's joyful bark. She kneeled down in front of him and caressed his head, giving a brief rub down.

"Stay with Connor, Kazuma." She ordered and gestured with her arm in the direction of her room. "Mommy needs some time alone."

She got up and walked towards the stairs, descended them and exited the manor.

* * *

Meryl grunted as she hoisted herself over the ledge of the cliff. She lay on her back, panting heavily and stretching her semi-raw fingers. She inspected her digits seeing some minor bloody scuffs and smiled.

"Well, who would have thought that free climbing a 20 feet high cliff would be so therapeutic…" she sighed.

She saw the white fluffy clouds passing overhead while the 2 PM sun was warming her face and sweaty body.

Maybe she did go overboard with knocking Connor down.

She snorted.

"Bitch please, he deserved it." She grumbled with a chortle.

Would he actually even dare to hit her? A part of her wanted to incite him to do it so that she had the excuse to finally beat his ass once and for all. If she succeeded, he would shut the fuck up and respect her.

She decided to get up and look down on her achievement.

"Oh fuck." She cursed and quickly ducked down flat on her stomach.

She waited for at least minute before she crawled over and she peeked down the ledge of the cliff. Down below she saw Connor walking towards the foot of the cliff, his watchful eyes scanning his surroundings. Then he stopped still and kneeled down, rubbing his fingers on the moist ground.

"Fuck." Meryl mumbled under her breath and she immediately withdrew from sight.

She crawled away, heading towards an area with shrubbery and then got on her feet and made a run for it.

She wanted to be alone.

Was it actually even possible to shake him off her track? Maybe if she made an effort, but right now she felt lazy about it – what more could he do, scold her?

She slowed down her pace until she was strolling along the ridge of the terrace-like terrain. Since this forest went along the ridge of the cliff she had climbed, she decided to walk alongside it. The terrain was very uneven due to erosion and possibly from the glacial deposits of thousands of years ago which shattered and carved the area. Casually Meryl walked along the ridge until she spotted a very thick tree trunk further into the forest.

She turned into the forest and continued her trek until she came across the terrain pooling down to the thick trunk of an overgrown tree. She stopped in her steps. The descent was very gradual, as if the tree trunk's weight was sinking into the weak soil below. The tree almost reminded her of those ancient red wood trees with its branches creating a network of branches overhead which was ideal for climbing. As it was Spring the lush green leaves were quite intense, so if she decided to climb that thing, nobody would be able to spot her from the ground if she went above the foliage.

She looked around until she found some of the heavy branches of that tree drooping down to the ground. If she didn't want to be followed or at least discovered immediately, she had to stay off the ground. The ground was unfortunately still a little moist from the rain of a few days ago.

Meryl backtracked her steps and proceeded to jump on some of the rocks, roots or anything that wouldn't leave an imprint of her foot prints. As she hopped from one place to another, encircling the tree, she came across a younger but still durable tree and leaped towards it. She grasped tightly on the branches and hoisted herself up. She looked up and climbed high enough until she was at least 10 feet above the ground. She finally found a branch which made contact with the ancient tree's thick boughs. As she had reached the maximum height of the tree, she realized that its branches were too weak to hold her weight especially as it came in contact with the massive drooping branches of the ancient tree.

She would have to jump across and catch a hold of the massive bough.

Meryl took a deep breath, it would be a substantial leap and terrible fall, but she felt confident that she would succeed. It was a 7 foot leap without using any run up. She took another breath to steady her nerves and body.

She leaped across and caught the bough straight into her chest. The breath was knocked out of her and the shock almost made her lose grip if she hadn't caught a hold of a broken jutting piece of branch on the other side of the bough.

She hoisted herself up on the bough so that she lay on her stomach with the bough under her. Thankfully the bark was quite textured which made the crawling easier using her hands and legs.

Meryl continued to crawl up the bough like a newbie squirrel until she arrived to the main trunk of the tree. From there like a spiraling stairs she climbed higher and higher until she reached the peak of the tree on a barren wide branch.

Her mouth fell open when she encountered the view. She had the greatest vantage point. To her left she could see the houses, fields and merchant and battle ships docked in Boston harbor with their white sails. She saw dark smoke billowing from the chimneys and she could faintly see the seagulls riding the winds. To her right she could see the Davenport manor, the hedge that surrounded the front of the manor and a small part of the stone stairs leading towards the entrance which was obstructed by shrubbery and small trees. Grayish smoke billowed from that chimney. She could see the roof clearly but the activities below on the first floor was obstructed by the ledge of the cliff and the foliage of the ancient tree plus the other surrounding trees.

Straight ahead was the endless Atlantic Ocean. Large cliffs and jagged rocks decorated the shore rendering it too treacherous and dangerous to ships. She could see the dock of the Davenport manor a little to her right, but the Aquilla was absent.

The view was to die for.

The main trunk of the tree which she sat on had been scorched, split and hollowed by a lightning strike. It was still durable and stable, but it left a nice sitting area, carved out almost like a chaise longue. She cleared some of the left over splinters and darkened bits, grabbed a bunch of leaves and created a cushion for her back. She leaned back into it and sighed with content. She kept her legs dangling on either side, although they rested on some weaker branches below. If she had brought some boards, she could create a little platform that was safe enough to lie down.

Another sigh escaped her lips as her gaze fell to the Atlantic Ocean in front of her. She heard the distant squeals of the seagulls, the faint roaring and smashing of the waves and smell the light scent of salt and wet sand. The warm breeze caressed her hair and rustled through the leaves.

The sounds created a harmonious tune which lulled Meryl into a sense of safety and peace. She felt her eyes growing heavier and before she realized she was out cold.

* * *

It had been hours since she disappeared from the Davenport manor and the sun had begun to set. And of course, Connor was forced to search for her. The women at home, Marie and Ingrid specifically, were giving him a hard time about it, even though he was the victim of her aggression! Hanna decidedly sided with him in the hot debate he had with Ingrid and Marie, eventually they were able to coax out enough information to point the blame on him. Maybe he had gone overboard as he pondered about their words and reflected on his words towards Meryl.

He came back to the foot of the cliff where he had been hours ago. He did track her here earlier today and he had a sneaking suspicion that she had escalated the cliff.

Of course he could have dragged Kazuma out here to do all the grunt work, but he decided against it as it was something he wanted to do on his own.

He proceeded to climb the cliff with ease, reaching the top within minutes. He hoisted himself effortlessly over the ledge and then immediately spotted the tracks. A confident smile flickered against his lips, she hadn't made an effort to hide her traces. She made it stupidly easy for him, maybe she wanted to be discovered or simply didn't care, most likely the latter. His smile disappeared quickly as his eyes and body followed the tracks. He continued walking along the ledge of the terraced terrain until the tracks made an abrupt turn into the forest.

As he stepped further in, he immediately knew where she was as he encountered the massive ancient tree. He continued to follow the tracks until they disappeared. He knelt down to inspect them, he backtracked until he found some mud imprint and moisture clinging to some parts of the jutting roots. He continued following these odd imprints until it led him to a little tree which was very close to the large boughs of the ancient tree.

With little effort he sprang up the tree and leaped across to the large bough and sprinted up the bough. He leaped again to climb up the branches, reaching closer and closer to the peak of the tree.

He came to an abrupt halt, his eyes encountering the dangling legs of Meryl. His heart froze.

He climbed the branches faster, leaping higher and further until he was within reach of her legs. As he grabbed the last branch and hoisted himself up and was ready to grasp the same trunk and branch that Meryl was, his face met with Meryl's sleeping face.

He was stunned, holding onto the branches and glued on the spot, unsure what to do.

He found himself staring at her intently.

As if reality struck him, he pulled himself higher until he had proper footing and rested his index finger and pointer against the side of her neck. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Again he was taken by her sleeping figure, letting his eyes roam her body quickly but then settle for her face. He rose a hesitant hand towards her face, his fingers hovered over the side of her face. He felt his heart pound hard against his chest, he released a sudden breath through his nostrils and touched his fingers on her skin. He proceeded to gingerly brush off with his fingertips the dirt particles that clung to her skin.

However, his jaw clenched and he withdrew his fingers as if he touched fire. His breathing had gotten harder.

"Meryl… Miss Briar." He corrected himself quickly and reinforced his tone. "Wake up."

He gently nudged her shoulder.

She began to stir. A groan followed by a yawn escaped her lips. Her heavy grey eyes blinked a few times until they snapped open and she gasped, sitting up straight.

"Connor! What are you - Aaaaahhhh-

Meryl lost her balance. Connor dove and seized her by the arm while holding onto the branch and launched them down on the bottom branch below.

They both were in each other's arms, Connor's strong right arm holding her while his left hand held onto the branch above. Meryl had reflexively clung to his torso.

"Fuck, never again." She whispered as she looked down at how far and painful the drop would have been.

She heard Connor's batting breath. It was then that she realized in what kind of situation they were. She could have dismissed it, but she didn't want to. So, she looked up and Connor's face turned in her direction.

"Thank you…" Meryl's voice lost its strength the longer she looked at him.

Connor for the first time noticed this encounter and how close they were physically. His chestnut eyes unwaveringly stared back at her grey ones.

Meryl bit her lip unconsciously and Connor's eyes flickered to her lips. Painfully slowly but hesitantly he lowered his head in her direction. Meryl's heart lurched and her lower stomach squirmed. Then he froze and she saw the tension returning to his brows and him clenching and unclenching his jaw. His eyes that were captivated by her lips immediately changed allure and had become grave even ashamed by his actions.

"We should return to the manor before sun down." He cleared his throat and pulled back from her closeness and touch by withdrawing the arm he had around her.

Meryl stared with her lips parted and utterly bewildered by what had just happened. He had averted his gaze, scanning below to check the easiest route to climb down the tree. She exhaled and turned her head away.

"Y-yeah, you're right, we should get back, the others are probably worried." She too cleared her throat.

"Can you climb down?"

Meryl nodded numbly. He started climbing down and Meryl followed suit.

As they climbed down carefully, she felt the flush of heat and blush spread on her cheeks and the rush of emotions prickle her eyes. She was taken off guard by her reaction. It had been so long since she felt that way, not the rejection or disappointment but rather the intensity of her feelings and physical reaction. The coil of excitement and emotions at the pit of her stomach hadn't been twisted this hard in such a long time – possibly since high school. At the same time she was quite stunned by what had just happened. _He was close to kissing her!_ Scratch that, he _wanted to kiss her! _She saw it in his eyes, in his face – she wasn't hallucinating! She wasn't that naïve, idealistic and oblivious girl of the past who could not sense these things! She knew he felt something, he did! They were so close to kissing, it was maddening.

Yet as they descended further and further down the tree and her heart rate and feelings were slowly dissolving into rational thought, Meryl realized it was good that he did not pursue his actions despite how much she wanted to feel him against her lips and body. So much was at stake now, the mission for one and the responsibilities in both their lives. She could tell that he was married to whatever mercenary work/job he had, if he did not have these obligation and priorities he would have kissed her. She grinned to herself. Geez that cockiness was so not becoming, but fuck, did it soothe the ego!

Nonetheless, despite that episode Meryl's reality kept her in-check more than she liked to admit. She was a 21st century person stuck in the 18th century – she was certain that through some law of physics or the universe that 18th century America would kick her back into the 21st century. And it will certainly happen when she and Connor reach some form of "happy ending" that is how cynical her outlook had become.

They reached the bottom and Connor helped her down by extending his arms which Meryl outright rejected by leaping from the branch and landing on her feet away from him. He did not take it as offense but rather realized that he too wanted to avoid any more physical contact with her.

Meryl straightened herself out, slapping the dust, dirt and grime of her clothes.

There was that awkward silence and tension that was so pervasive whenever they were alone with each other.

"Connor…" she dared to speak up, clearing her voice to remove the feelings that obstructed her throat.

He slowly turned his attention to her, his eyes brows were furrowed and his eyes looked sharp and unreadable.

She walked slowly towards him and stopped next to him.

"Thank you." She expressed very simply and straightforwardly.

Connor quietly looked back at her, exchanging a silent and prolonged eye contact with her. She didn't need a response and he knew that. Meryl intentionally left her words on an ambiguous note, now whether he understood that she was grateful that he saved her or grateful that he did not kiss her, will depend on his interpretation in the next few seconds.

She saw the tension dissipate very minutely in his eye brows and jaw and within a minute he gave her a nod of acknowledgment at her gratitude.

It appeared Connor understood what she meant as he lowered his guard for very briefly.

Without a word they both made their way back to the Davenport manor, climbing down the cliff, actually more like parkouring down the cliff and hopping from bough to bough and branch to branch, to reach the Davenport manor.

The sun had disappeared behind the tree tops. The temperature dipped enough to give Meryl goose bumps.

They climbed up the stairs outside of the Davenport manor.

"Meryl." Connor called her after the long silence that they shared the entire way back.

She stopped in her steps and turned around to look down at him.

"We will discuss about the mission tomorrow morning after breakfast."

"Okay, I am down with that."

Connor averted his gaze.

"Do you want to meet in my room?" Meryl realized what she said and stammered to correct herself "I-I mean, to discuss the mission stuff, of course!"

"If you wish." He supplied, picking up on her nervousness.

Another awkward silence followed.

"We should head inside, before it gets weird." Meryl chuckled, thinking about Ingrid and Marie assailing her with questions and reprimands.

When she turned away, he immediately seized her hand and she gasped. She spun her attention back to him. Her heart dropped when she saw the intensity of his eyes, searing through her eyes. His brows were knit, his jaw locked and his grip tightened around her wrist.

However, within a few seconds, reason or reality struck him so hard that he abruptly released her hand like it was on fire and mentioned as he passed her and climbed up the stairs.

"I am sorry… th-that step below you is loose." He stammered and he made his way up the stairs without checking back on her.

Meryl stared at him in silence. Her mind was blank.

After a pause and her shaking herself out of the stupor, she followed him into the manor and into kitchen where all the woman greeted Meryl with open arms and cheers. They made Connor and her sit down at the table and fed them dinner.

The entire time that they were in the kitchen, Connor did a spectacular job being his usual stoic self as if what happened in the tree and outside the manor never happened.

He had no idea how much he had exposed himself to her, whether it was intentional or out of trust or lack of control she was not sure. He had shown the fiery nature of his emotions and it was somewhat disconcerting, not because emotions were bad, it simply meant that he could become compromised especially if they were to do a mission together. For the sake of sanity she disregarded what happened between them and compartmentalized it.

Either way, the mission awaits and she was ready to prove herself.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Thanks for all the support! Hope y'all are doing well! Gotta run! *mad dash into the pits of hell***

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN**

**~ There is no way that he is a Kenway ~**

Finally, with only 5 (actually now 4) days left before the mission began. It was fool proof but also emotional explosion proof. Connor and Meryl sat in her room, actually in the dead of the night to make sure nobody overheard them.

It was an interesting experience. It was extremely civil and polite, a perfect diplomatic discourse between two level-headed people that had been at war with each other ever since they met. Meryl considered this interaction a score and success in her relationship with Connor, whether Connor felt that way was difficult to tell. He remained calm and collected throughout.

In the silence of the crackling of flames in the fire place. Connor sighed and got up from his seat and spun the seat around back in its original spot.

"We have still 5 more days –

-You mean 4 since its already early morning."

"Yes, 4 days to make the remaining preparations."

He eyed Meryl from head to toe.

"You need appropriate attires."

"So do you Connor."

He tightened his lips.

"We will have to consult Ingrid or Marie."

"Are they on this?"

Connor shook his head.

"I think they should Connor, just in case the plan falls through."

"_It won't_." He repeated with conviction.

"Okay, it _won't_ but I still think they should know _some of it_."

Connor sighed.

"Fine. I will explain to them, just Ingrid and Marie."

"Good. I am happy we agreed on something." She supplied with a grin which made Connor's frown deepen.

Before he walked to the door, he gave Kazuma who was curled near the fire place a nice rub. Kazuma gave him a nudge of his nose and a lick of approval then returned his head back on his folded front paws and closed his eyes.

"This morning and the next days I need to do some errands around the dock and the Homestead," Connor announced as he made his way to the door. "The night before we should meet again. I ask you to have all necessary preparations accomplished, from your attire to the theatricals, when I return."

"No problem."

When he grasped the door handle, Meryl called him as a persistent thought finally reached the surface. She got up from the seat, stretched her back and rolled her neck. She eyed him with a sudden gravity that Connor immediately noticed as he halted in his movements and looked at her.

"Will you guys ever tell me who you and Achilles are and what you do?"

There was a pause as he watched her with his typical aloof gait, yet his eyes had a different glint than the usual. There was some agitation.

"I don't know." He responded very succinctly and also directly, leaving no ambiguity in his tone and no deceit in his behavior.

"Whether you like this or not, _this secret _cannot stay hidden as long as I stay in the Davenport manor."

"I know."

There was such a stillness about him that it made Meryl uncomfortable.

"What will happen if I find out?"

Connor's posture stiffened and his eyes filled with a dark aura signaling her that the outcome could potentially be fatal. It sent a shiver down Meryl's spine.

"I bid you Good night." He stated curtly and left the room without another word.

* * *

Connor was indeed quite busy the next several days, running in and out of the manor or staying out over night to do his _stuff. _Meryl on the other hand was gathering all the clothes and stuff she needed for the mission.

Even Kazuma sensed some urgency in the household.

"Kaz, not now." Meryl sighed as she brushed off the tug she felt at the hem of her casual linen dress.

Kazuma gave her a whimper, lowering his black ears and almost giving her a miserable pout. Meryl eyed him and then sighed with defeat. She dropped to her knees and engulfed him in a hug. He yapped in glory, giving her face a clean wipe with his tongue and his compost breath batting across her face.

"Dear Lord, that breathe yo." she chuckled and gave him a pat down. "Okay, you win, let's go walkies."

Kazuma's ears cocked and he gave a satisfied yowl.

Meryl dropped everything she worked on and headed downstairs.

"Schatz, where are you off to?" Ingrid caught Meryl at the front door.

"I need to spend some quality time with him _before the job_." She mouthed the last bit which Ingrid immediately understood with an affirmative nod. "Have you seen Connor?"

"He is at the docks."

"For what?"

"Helping, I suppose?"

Meryl rolled her eyes.

"So typical, anyway, I'll be off."

"Don't stray away too far, especially with your upcoming task."

"I know, I know, _mom_." Meryl grinned and Ingrid returned a snort.

Meryl left the manor and stood on the porch taking a lung full of Spring air. Kazuma was already on the prowl, his nose sunk to the ground and sniffing out the latest trails.

"C'mon boy." She whistled and both broke into a run.

Her day with Kazuma was spent sprinting around the forest and chasing prey. Kazuma of course devoured rabbits, squirrels and basically any scavengers he found.

Meryl had made her way down along the cliffs which lined the Davenport outlet and its dock until she stopped in her steps. In the distance she found that familiar lumbering character in his obscenely obvious garments darting up and down the ramp unloading cargo.

"You know, Kaz, if he made an effort to dress less conspicuously then nobody would even remember him," she patted Kazuma's cocked head. "Unless _mister_ enjoys the attention, I mean who doesn't anyway."

She felt her insides squirm at the thought of Connor and she immediately cleared her throat to dispel the butterflies in her stomach.

"_I am such a fucking teenager_." She sighed.

A sudden howl erupted from Kazuma which startled Meryl. His nose was in the air with his nostrils flared and wiggling, as if he picked up a scent while his eyes were probably focused on Connor. Without warning he immediately took off in the direction of the docks.

"Kazuma! Stop! _Get back here!_" she called running after him but unable to catch up due to the uneven and dangerous terrain.

She whistled but he ignored her as he was caught up with the excitement of seeing Connor.

"_Great! _Let's hope he doesn't get killed._"_ But as she said that, her heart clenched with worry.

Kazuma was a _big black wolf_, a young adult and still growing to his full potential. If the sailors were unfamiliar or caught by surprise, they might shoot him. Meryl was tall, she was 5'7 and his shoulders reached her a mid-thigh where she could pet his back without bending her back. And when he would pounce her bringing his front paws on top of her shoulder, he was almost her height.

She sped up her pace, following along the cliff then descending down through the packed forest which began to thin out as it got closer to the ocean shore.

Kazuma was ahead of her, but she constantly kept whistling and calling his name and of course he didn't listen because Connor was nearby.

She jogged along the path, which wound around into the outlet until the wooden dock was in plain sight. With a sigh of relief, she saw Kazuma successfully gaining not only the attention of Connor but also the sailors who were huddled around him.

Connor kept his distance and went over to captain Robert Faulkner of the Aquilla who seemed to be waiting for him. Meryl observed the body language and expression of the men and was immediately seized by an insatiable curiosity.

This was her chance to catch a glimpse or hear what Connor's secretive profession was all about. They moved over to the far side of the dock, away from the sailors. Meryl decided to go underneath the dock, as thank God the tide was low. It exposed the long vertical wooden columns of the docks which were anchored to the bedrock below. She had to move fast, walking over the yucky slimy and slippery moss and putrid scent of dirty water, human waste and other smelly things.

She moved from beam to beam, grasping them tightly and careful not to make sudden noises or splashes.

Thankfully the planks of the boardwalk were tightly lined with barely any cracks. But as luck would have it, she did find a crack and that was behind some cargo which just sat across from Connor and Faulkner. Their voices were still a little obstructed, so Meryl found a pocket in the bedrock underneath the dock that had been cleared out through erosion. It was too low for her to stand but fine for her to lie down. She was definitely risking her ass if the tide decided to come back, but she had to know.

"Any news?" Connor inquired directly.

"Nothin' much I am afreid. I know that the Templars are stirrin' up some trouble with the Natives and Charles Lee is playing the obedient dog between Master Kenway and George Washington."

"Stirring up trouble? Who?"

"Johnson's been on the prowl again fer land. He's already taken some land from upper New York with the supposed consent of the Iroquois Confederacy and he is making his way up in this region. I am certain your tribe will be next."

"Not until I kill him first." Connor growled.

Meryl could feel the tension and anger seeping from Connor's body.

"I thought it was all settled with Johnson." Connor's voice took on an abrasive tone.

"Oh my boy, his position as the Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the King and being a Templar has made him untouchable," Faulkner chuckled in a morbid tone, "but I am certain if we surprise him he will sink faster than an anchor at the bottom of the ocean."

"What of the taskmaster?"

"According to me contacts Kenway's still in New York, it is the only damn colony that still holds all Loyalist blood suckers."

"New York?" Connor's voice piqued with an urgency and realization. "Achilles is there."

"Har! Still fearless like in his youth! Nothing escapes that sly old assassin!" Faulkner gave a hearty chuckle.

"He has told me that the taskmaster might make an appearance at the Red Baron Inn." Connor quickly interjected in a lower voice earning a tense pause from Faulkner.

"Is it true?" Faulkner's voice sounded weaker and taken.

"Tomorrow night I am to pick up some information from one of our contacts."

"The movement of the British troops in the colonies? Or the Templars?"

Connor made no sound and since Meryl couldn't see them, she heard Faulkner give a mixture of a sigh and groan.

"That is a risky move, even fer yerself and the old assassin," Faulkner cautioned.

Connor didn't respond.

"What of Miss Briar?"

Meryl's heart involuntarily clenched which almost made her cough.

"She will assist me."

"She? How?"

"The old man believes she will be useful for our cause."

Faulkner hummed.

"He must know what he is doing. The old assassin was never quick to allow a person among the fold," Faulkner paused, "Not even you has he trusted in your training days."

_Wow, Faulkner what a burn. _It almost made Meryl chuckle.

Connor forcefully cleared his throat.

"Well, he has made it clear that we should trust her –

-yet none of you have told her about the Templars?" Faulkner interrupted Connor quite abruptly and gave him no time to retaliate as his voice took an exasperated tone "Or your mission to destroy them? I say, you do not trust her and if I am not wrong you have a reason not to…"

Connor did not respond. After a pause of probably scrutinizing Connor's face, Faulkner sighed with more exasperation and took a step closer to Connor, judging from the creaking of the boards.

"Do not take me fer a fool," Faulkner hissed under his breath. "I have travelled far and wide, hired new hands and met people of different lands, characters, persuasions and whatnot, you cannot deceive a captain whose responsibility is to vet new hands. You find her too reserved, not honest enough and deceptive. She treads carefully and you fear her strength and her calculating ways."

Connor did not respond, but Meryl felt that anxious stillness emanating from him. Faulkner sighed once more but this time to release the tension and annoyance he felt.

However, a strong gust of wind blew and a sharp thunderous flapping sound erupted followed by rattling.

"God damn it! Tie those bloody sails tightly you maggots!" yelled Faulkner in a trembling rage. "I've paid a fortune for those sails!"

He stormed off into the direction of the ramp, leaving Connor behind. Then she felt the boards creak as Connor decided to move too to the scene of action.

Meryl finally breathed again. It felt like she held her breath the entire time during the conversation as she was straining her ear and making sure that she caught all the information. She was stunned not of the continuous suspicion they had towards her (please, she was suspicious as fuck and she didn't give a shit about it), but more about Connor's profession. Connor was a mercenary after all and Achilles was his boss (and former assassin too, no surprise really) and their goal was to destroy that organization. She remembered from a history class in high school some teacher mentioning the Knights of the Templars which were some pseudo-Christian warriors that crusaded around Europe and beyond in the name of God and Christ, but whether those Templars were the same she was unsure. She would have to do some more research, but for she has to play dumb about it.

She carefully crawled out of the space and swiftly grasped beam by beam to pass under the boardwalk without much noise.

Another thunderous crash overhead startled Meryl, rattling the boards above her and she froze.

"_GOD DAMN IT_!" bellowed Faulkner with seething anger "Get that mangy mutt out of my sight! Kenway – argh – I mean, Connor! _Remove that infernal thing at once_!"

Her legs had turned to lead and her heart sank.

"Kenway…Connor?" she muttered to herself, bewildered.

The two names rippled through her and left her more affected than expected. She shook her head with snort. Faulkner could have mistaken those two names in his anger, it happens. However, if this name _Kenway _was spoken about in private wouldn't one be more careful? Unless Connor's name is also Kenway…

Could it be that Connor was related to that other Kenway?

Meryl willed her body to move but she couldn't. Why did this information affect her? It could be utterly wrong. Was it finally the nerves getting to her? That she was finally meeting a worthy and fearsome opponent, the head of that Templar organization in an innocuous inn owned by the British? Or was it the intentional withholding of information that unsettled her? The latter angered her. What if something had gone wrong like him pulling a knife on her? Do they underestimate her that much?

She took a deep huffing breath, trying to release the growing anger she felt. Distrusting her is one thing but omitting essential information that would could spare her from sudden death is unforgiveable! She took another forceful steady breath in attempt to calm herself.

In a strange turn of events, this knowledge empowered her. She could feel the vengeance, the kind where she will prove them wrong, coursing through her body and setting her system on fire.

_Oh she will show them and when she does they will be sorry._

With that mindset she snaked her way under the dock and hoisted herself over the ledge behind some crates. She sat there, her back leaning against the crates. She peered over to the bustling on the dock. Connor had his back turned towards her with the crew gathering the mess that was on the floor. She took that opportunity and stood up, pretending that she had just arrived at the dock.

She whistled and Kazuma's head cocked in the air and he ran towards her with a bark. Connor noticed her too.

"Oh God! Did you make that mess?" she called out and gave Kazuma a scowl.

She walked onto the dock and saw a pile of crates knocked over with its contents splayed all over the deck. Most of it were pistols, rifles and ammunition with a sprinkling of sabers. Connor was on his knees gathering the contents while Meryl ignored his presence and focused her attention on Faulkner.

"Captain! I am so sorry. I will keep him away, let me help."

"Ah Miss Briar! No worries. Let me men handle it." The captain dismissed her help with a grin, utterly forgetting that he was angry just a few seconds ago.

The crew and Connor found a new crate and put most of the things away. A reflective glint caught her eye and she found a pistol further away. She walked towards it and picked it up, but felt a weird wetness as she held it in her right hand. She placed it in her other hand and gasped softly when she saw the semi dry imprint of blood on the palm of her right hand and now her left hand. It was a British pistol of course with the British crown emblem glinting against the soft spring sun light.

A cool shiver went down her spine. She could immediately visualize how its former owner died with it.

"Miss Briar?" called the captain's inquiring voice which startled Meryl for a moment.

She turned around and held the pistol by its barrel to avoid further staining her hands and walked towards the waiting captain.

"I found one," she said but before handing to him she added "you might want to have it cleaned, it is still stained with, uhm, British blood."

The captain's face froze but then his eyes widened.

"_Heavens forgive me, Miss Briar!_ Men, I told you to wipe and scrub the pistols until there was no blood left!" he roared, "Bring a wet rag immediately, the missus hands are dirty!"

The crew's heads shot up and they scrambled to find a wet rag. Connor got up and headed towards Meryl.

"Please forgive me, Miss Briar! I hope I didn't shock you – you must understand we do some privateering as well and…sometimes confrontations happen." He apologized profusely.

Meryl remained calm since the sight blood was nothing out of the ordinary to her with her Marine days. The privateering was something she was aware of, the pillaging and looting of enemy ships or of regular ships was common around this time. Most business made in this period was through trading and smuggling. However, Faulkner probably misread her as she grew increasingly nervous when she felt Connor's approaching presence.

"Captain I am fine, I-I will go to the shore and wash my hands there." She said and walked off in a quick pace, passing Connor without acknowledging him.

Kazuma jumped at her but she raised her hands high above her head so that he couldn't sniff or lick it. The wolf suddenly reacted differently, his nose raised and picking up the foreign scent that emanated from his mistress hands. He curiously trotted alongside her as she made her way off the dock and along the stone beach.

* * *

Meryl kicked the stones along the way, clenching her teeth. She stopped in her steps and turned around. She gasped and looked around her. She had been in such deep thought that she didn't realize that she walked into a secluded cove far away from the docked Aquilla. The ship's mast was not visible anymore and neither was the bay where the ship was docked. She felt a chill when a gust of wind bounced off against the dark, grimy and jagged towering walls of the cliffs surrounding the cove. It looked like she was transported to a completely different environment and climate even, it was cooler and damp. She looked down on her hands and still saw the blood crusting her hands.

"The fuck?" she grumbled and looked around herself one more time "Where the fuck am I?

She jogged over to the humid and dark sand, her feet slightly sinking the closer she got to the shore. She hissed when she dipped her hands into the low tide shore, the still cool water making her fingers tingle. As her eyes searched for possible clues of her location she suddenly realized Kazuma's absence. She jumped up to her feet, but somehow was suddenly gripped by gravity and she simply stood still. An overpowering sense of peace and serenity flooded her body and she couldn't help but close her eyes and bask in the sound of the lapping waves and the cries of the seagulls.

_Kazuma is almost an adult wolf, he'll be fine._

Something was reassuring her that Kazuma was just fine and it was very weird. She never left Kazuma out of her sight, but it seems the whole mission thing and Connor's possible relations to the head of another mercenary organization must have distracted her. It is almost like when one is in deep thought while driving and suddenly one arrives at home without having any memory of the travel back. Meryl felt exactly that way. And why the fuck was she not deathly worried about Kazuma?!

"Psh! That fucker is fine." She snorted and turned her attention to the cove.

Kazuma was fine, he surely was. He might be _fucking_ around somewhere, literally or not. That thought made her chuckle. Well he was a hot blooded male wolf and it was Spring so his _Imma-fuck-anything-that-moves senses _must be tingling. She chuckled again and went on her knees without them touching the wet dark sand below her.

Meryl sat there for God knows how long, staring out to the ocean as the water lapped gently just a few inches away from her feet. She lost sense of time utterly absorbed in the sounds created around her.

Maybe she needed this, to disconnect and be in the moment, all that hippie, yoga bullshit.

Her fingers touched the moist sand and she almost gasped at how incredibly soft it was. It was nearly as soft as wet moss or algae that would coat the stones along rivers.

An innate child-like desire to grab and play with the sand overcame her. She found herself dipping her fingers deep into the sand letting them sink almost to her knuckles. A surge of glee coursed through her body and she closed her fingers around the wet sloshy sand and threw it in front of her. It was stupidly childish but it felt so fucking good and right. She repeated that motion over and over until she came in contact with dirty muddy water.

She gathered more sand and decided to make a miniature fort or maybe a castle.

That failed since the sand would melt into a puddle due to the saturation. She chuckled to herself, but all of this felt so good like quenching an age old repressed thirst. She never felt this way. Maybe it was a desire to reconnect to a child-like state again after all the shit she went through in her life?

Or she was simply fed up of adulting?

In her absentminded state she began to trace something in the saturated sand without realizing what it was. Her mind was oddly at ease and her body was completely dedicated to the actions in front of her that she utterly ignored her surroundings. The lapping of the waves, the cawing of the seagulls, the distant battering sound of the waves clashing with the cliff walls and the faint scraping sound when she passed her fingers through the sand added to the overwhelming serenity she felt. It was just her and nature, nothing else.

Time stood still or time passed, she wasn't sure.

Her peace was brusquely interrupted when she heard a crunching mixed with a sloshy sound. She leaped to her feet, facing the danger and fumbling for her knife on her chest and realizing with horror that she had forgotten it in her room. She raised her eyes to confront the threat and when she did, her body immediately stiffened, her arms folded over her chest and her face hardened with a glare.

"Why the fuck do you have to sneak up on me?! Do you realize that I could actually hurt you!"

"How? With sand?" the wooden voice intoned with mild amusement and Meryl lashed back at the source with an exasperated groan.

"_What do you want, Connor_?"

Connor's presence always did something to her nerves. She loved but also hated how his direct eyes and powerful figure disarmed her. It was sometimes really hard to cover it up in front of him and it was especially more difficult when he surprised her like that. His feet were almost completely submerged in the saturated sand and the bottom of his leg covers were coated with wet sand.

He left a good, conservative distance between them maybe at least 9 feet.

"Kazuma returned home and you didn't." he announced as promptly and directly as usual.

For some reason she didn't want to respond back and she simply turned her back on him to direct her eyes on the ocean.

"Are you agitated?" Connor's voice appeared next to her and she turned her head almost leaping away from seeing him standing next to her.

"_W-w-why would you say that_?"

Connor had his arms crossed, his gaze also fixed at the ocean in front of him. He gently raised his left hand from its resting position to point his index finger to the ground behind him.

"You've written my name all over the sand."

Meryl's eyes widened and her heart dropped. She jerked her head back and she gasped very loudly and without any qualm, grasping her face in horror.

Connor's name was traced everywhere! It looked like some trippy ass horror film of some psycho or stalker who traced his victim's name all over. She couldn't help herself but cover her reddening face with her palms.

"Oh God dammit." Meryl stammered, turning her body away from him while deadly embarrassed of herself.

_WHAT KIND OF FUCKED UP SHIT IS THIS?! While she was at it why didn't she just scribble down what she felt for him or even a marriage proposal?!_

"We should return to the manor." Connor declared and turned around to face inland which was the possible exit of the cove, "Dinner is waiting and you need a good night rest."

Meryl stared at him, her jaw slack in disbelief. He was not looking at her. He was just going to let it slide?! Rather than calming her it set her tempers flaring and before she could reason with herself it was already too late.

"Does, does none of _this, _disturb you at all?!" she stormed up at him, gesticulating at the scribbles in the sand, "If I saw this, I wouldn't let this slide!"

Connor looked at her, keeping his calm composure.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything but don't pretend it doesn't exist!"

He observed her carefully then lowered his eyes to the scribbles in the sand. He studied them but quickly returned his attention to Meryl's angered eyes, maintaining a steady gaze.

"I see agitation in your writing." He supplied calmly, "I apologize that I made you uneasy with the mission details."

She stared at him blankly, disarmed by his response. As she noticed that he was about to start walking again, she grabbed his arm to keep him in place. His eyes darted to her hand on his forearm and then to her bewildered face.

"Are - Did you not see whose name I wrote down?" she blurted out with her voice cracking.

He held her gaze, she saw the tension returning to his forehead and jaw and there was something in his eyes. His chestnut eyes showed a brewing storm of emotions that was threatening to explode which conflicted with his very tense face.

"I see my name and nothing more." He affirmed his statement by placing his hand on hers.

Meryl was ready to counter argue, but when he squeezed her hand gently and held her gaze, the desire to confront him vanished. He held her gaze firmly with his turbulent ones that were pleading at her not to push him, not to unleash that dam of emotions.

"Let us go back to the manor." He said in a low voice that was lined with a firmness to conceal the turmoil that was threatening to reveal itself.

In her bewildered state she nodded dumbly and Connor withdrew his hands from hers and began to slowly walk ahead of her. Meryl complied and silently followed him.


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Uhm, hi again... I AM SO SORRY! I jumped right into summer classes once the Spring semester ended and I was honestly too tired to write anything... But now I am on summer break until end of August. It will be my last semester as a undergrad student. I chose some very "hippie" classes, acting and art is among the subjects... Yeeep.**

**Anyway, how are all of you doing? Are you on break, working or just chilling? Sorry that my last post was rushed, I was drowning with school work, but I am here now :D So, thank you all for the continuous support whether it is through sharing my story, favoriting, putting on alert and reviews, etc, it all means a lot to me. I will say it over and over again, thank you. **

**I am hoping this story keeps you entertained as much as it does me. I would appreciate any kind of feedback because it in part influences or inspires me to do better every time.**

**Anyhow, enough with the rambling. Here is an EXTRA JUICE AND LOOOONG ****chapter just for you my precious readers :D**

**Have a lovely day, wonderful summer and I will see you in the next update! **

**BYAAAAA~**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT**

**~ Into the Lion's den ~**

"I've never been this uncomfortable in my life!" snarled Meryl as she fidgeted with her petticoat and knocked the tip of her pinching toes on the dirt path.

Meryl was dressed in a light blue but muted gown which split open in the front to reveal a white lace apron and rough silk petticoat of a faded light blue beneath it which had intricate ruching and stitching and all that nonsense. And yes, she wore a hat that was shallow and flat in the crown with a wide brim which was decorated with the same frilly nonsense like the rest of her dress. The highlight was definitely her gorgeous cleavage that she couldn't even resist herself to stare. It was glorious and magnificent and therefore had to be covered up with a white lace kerchief to make her look _more modest_, logic much.

The outfit definitely grabbed attention, but as she watched Connor walking in front of her dressed more casually than her she began to wonder if this was a good idea. He wore muddy brown trousers that hugged his legs nicely paired with a dark neutral vest, a white tied up shirt and a heavy and weather worn dark blue coat and a three cornered hat and rider boots. Why the fuck does he look amazing in all his clothes?

He almost looked like her servant or an ordinary joe just by comparing the quality of their clothes. Her dress gave off a slight gleam against the starry night and crescent moon while his remained lackluster. She looked like a wife of a merchant according to Marie and Ingrid, which was apparently perfect distraction. This probably meant that Meryl will be subject to groping, harassment, maybe robbery and all that fun stuff in a male-centric chauvinistic 18th century America. _That is exciting._

"I feel nervous about this, Connor." She said and stopped in her tracks.

He stopped too and turned around to face her, his usual composed behavior dominating his features.

"It would be foolish not to."

"True, but I can't escape the feeling that _this _is a _little bit excessive_." Meryl pointed to herself and her get up.

He eyed her from head to toe then looked at her.

"The dress makes you beautiful," he directly stated but realized what he said and broke eye contact quickly and stammered "It-it will… serve as great a distraction."

Meryl's heart fluttered and her cheeks heated up.

"Uhm, thanks for the compliment. You look pretty good yourself." Meryl stammered with a nervous smile.

Connor looked at her for a moment, acknowledging her compliment without saying anything but after a few awkward seconds they resumed their walk. They were walking on a path that cut through a thinned out forest. The path was extensively used judging from the carriage, cart tracks, boot prints, etc. Also the smell of roasted meats and the clatter, clamor and bustle of a little town grew louder. The sound of human voices grew crisper and pronounced until it was clear enough to distinguish a male and female voice apart and the subject they spoke about. Of course, it was night as well, so the noise came mostly from the nearby inns.

"The Red Baron Inn is over there." Connor pointed out.

"Is that where all the Red coats are loitering about?"

Connor nodded.

"You remember our signal?" he asked Meryl, slowing down his pace and lowering his voice.

Meryl nodded.

"Remember you are on your own. I trust you will not recklessly endanger yourself."

Meryl gave him a forced chuckle.

"How will I know if you're done?"

"Keep an eye on the door. I will linger there and signal you."

"Connor, I can't eye the door the entire time it will look suspicious. Give me a number of minutes or the time at least."

"30 minutes to an hour."

"_30 minutes to an hour?! _Why that long?!"

"I do not want to rouse any suspicion. Keep in mind we are in enemy territory, the only little hamlet in Massachusetts that supports the British."

"Well I can't fake a British accent for shit, so I will stick to my English and my story of as a visiting merchant wife Sarah Austen. And what is your story again?"

"I don't have any and I don't need one."

"Why? I think you should, you know, in case of a screw up."

"I am Michael a convert to Christianity."

Meryl blinked a few times but then remembered from some history class eons ago that some Natives willingly converted to Christianity and many of them either did it because they believed in God or some did it out of survival.

"What if they ask you where you live or if you work for someone?"

"I have my contact to vouch for me. He is white."

It stung her. Is that how Natives around here had to define themselves, a part of someone's property?

"Achilles said I could pass off Italian or other."

Meryl eyed him from head to toe. She has met a few Italians and they looked nothing like him, but out of precaution she slowly nodded with approval. Well, the average 18th century person never left beyond miles of their living radius, only those who could afford travel were likely less to be duped.

They had come to a full stop next to a tall tree which obscured the view to the Red Baron Inn. Meryl saw clusters of Dutch colonial houses lining some of the dirt paths. It was dark and she couldn't make out the colors or details, but the columns at the entrance were dead giveaways of the colonial Dutch architecture. Some had their own little vegetable gardens and stables as well.

But for some reason tonight, it was exceptionally busy even if it was in the dead of the night. Maybe it would have been a better idea to arrive during the day. However, when she eyed Connor, he was quite an imposing person and carried something about himself that made it difficult to look away or ignore. Maybe he knew that and that's why she was the decoy or more like the bait.

"Are you ready?" he asked her, leaning against the tree with his hand as he surveyed the Red Baron Inn which was located on a slightly elevated terrain. It was conveniently or possibly intentionally located away from the town center and general population, must be some Puritan thing.

"I guess." She sighed and stood next to him.

"You should enter first and I shall follow."

"Sure, in the pits of hell I go. Let me look the part and I will see you soon." She remarked.

She messed up her hair, grabbed her dress by the hems and ripped it, especially where the lace apron was. She grabbed some of the dirt and rubbed it all around the front and even put some streaks of it on her cheek.

Then Meryl froze, an epiphany struck her and she looked at Connor.

"Connor, slap me."

"_What?_"

"Hit me, like this, on the cheek." She gestured the slapping motion on her cheek at him.

Connor's eyes widened and he even stepped back.

"Come on, hit me, _I have to be convincing_, I have to look the part." Meryl approached him but he kept backing away like she was ordering him to commit a crime.

"_I can't_."

"Yes, you can, you have to!"

"This is not what we agreed upon! There must be another-

-No there isn't another way! Come on, strike me!"

Meryl outstretched arms in open invitation for him to strike her but Connor's back touched the tree and he looked like a cornered animal.

"I know this isn't part of the plan and I feel a little insecure about my acting skills so I need some _help _to make it convincing. Can't you see the win-win situation here?"

"You are asking me to _hit _a woman." He stated bluntly with outright disapproval and even crossed his arms over his chest to display his unwillingness to cooperate.

"Woman or not, just hit me already!" she countered with exasperation

"You do not understand."

"What don't I understand? That you are not _man_ enough to hit me?"

Connor's eyes flashed in anger and his body stiffened.

"It has nothing to do with being a man!" he snapped back with clenched teeth.

"Then what is it?"

"It is against my nature; I cannot hit _you_."

Meryl groaned with exasperation.

"Okay, let's be drastic then."

She suddenly threw a punch at him and he deflected the attack with his forearm.

"_I will not fight you._"

"Well, I am sorry you have to."

She threw another punch and he grabbed both her fists and crossed them so that he held her now by her overlapping wrists.

"Good…as always," she grunted as she pushed against his weight, "but I always get what I want."

She stomped down hard on his foot and he released her grabbing his foot, repressing a yell through his clenched teeth. She saw pure anger light up in his fiery chestnut eyes. In his anger he leaped at her with his arms parted and hands ready to grab her, but instead he slipped and his right hand swung forward his palm making contact with Meryl's cheek.

She tumbled to the ground at the impact of the powerful slap. A burst of blood squirted in her mouth. Her eyes watered up from the pain. It rattled her brain and for a moment she was utterly disoriented until Connor's concerned face loomed over and he shook her awake. She turned her head and spat out blood and wiped it with the back of her hand.

Meryl hissed when she finally felt the stinging and swelling pain of the slap.

"Wow," she blinked a few times and managed to crack a grin and speak groggily. "I don't think I have evvver been slapped this hard in my life. Wait a minute, I have, never mind."

She gave him a thumbs up and he helped her up. His hands rested on her shoulder and his face contorted in the most extreme concern and regret she had ever seen on him or on a man before. His hand shakily hovered over her cheek.

"I, I'm, I'm s-

-Meryl covered his mouth with her fingers and she shook her head and released a breath to steady her emotions.

"_This_ is for the sake of the mission. I might hate you now but once my head stops rattling and my cheek stops stinging, hopefully after a few pints, I will forgive you. Our civil discourse will be restored soon, but for now…How do I look?"

Connor's entire being was frozen in disbelief and he merely stared at her and the injury.

"Does it look that bad?" she fumbled for her compact mirror, a dingy thing that had a faded mirror which was in her little pouch.

She pulled it out and gasped. Connor's face almost crumbled into a pile of remorse.

"_Daaaamn_. That is some substantial damage." Meryl whistled in a mix of surprise, awe and disbelief as she moved the compact mirror around to check out her cheek.

Connor's hands were massive and rough so when he accidently slapped her, he not only gave her a burning red imprint of on her left cheek that started to swell and bruise but also busted the outer corner of her eyebrow. It was bleeding a little, swelling a little with a droplet of blood trickling down. Even in the left corner of her lips there was a little bit of blood. She decided to leave it, for theatrical purpose.

Connor was frozen stiff with his wide. His hand still hovered over her sore cheek. She grabbed his hand and lowered it back to his side.

"Connor, I am fine. These are just flesh wounds. They will heal and I will not tell anyone what happened, I will tell that some soldier hit me," She told him, easing his guilt because she needed to restore him ASAP especially because of the mission. "Please, get a grip. You did not _hurt me _in the way that you are imagining."

His eyes focused on her finally after they had been staring through her.

"And you've hit me before, this isn't something different or new."

Connor yanked his hand from her in disgust.

"Who do you take me for?" He repeated with a snort, insulted by her words. "A mindless savage?!"

For a split second she saw the word _savage _cut through him like a scalpel, opening a centuries old wound. His intense milky brown eyes suddenly channeled a history of an oppressed ancestry, the suffering and hardship behind the word _savage _and condensed it into a thousand daggers stare. She shuddered at the weight of his glare. Meryl raised her hands.

"I didn't mean it _that_ way, I meant it as warrior-to-warrior, as an equal. I would never assume you to be a person like that you are far too honorable and kind."

The glare dimmed down and slowly his calm and collected self returned. His eyes flickered to her injured face he brusquely lowered his eyes and turned his body away from her.

"Lead the way." He declared after clearing his throat and not looking at her.

Meryl looked at his frame and a silent smile crept up her face.

"I will see you later." She said a firm tone with her smile vanishing and she walked off.

Her heart began to race hard against her ribs and she felt the adrenaline surging in her gut.

"Time to be a whiny bitch." She muttered under her breath and intentionally increased her breathing into agitated pants.

She approached the Inn, the colonial building with its prominent columns that were covered in grime and in serious need of a paint job. The ground was muddier and likely wet from alcohol, piss and other disgusting things. The mud sloshed under her feet and she trudged perspiring at her forehead until the oak door burst open and bunch of drunk red coats poured out.

"Oi lass."

"'ey missus."

Meryl blatantly ignored them and entered the inn. The sweet and bitter scent of alcohol, bad breath combined with roast, bread and stew punched her in the face. She staggered a little but entered holding her pouch in one hand while the other hand hiked up her dress. When she stepped in, her heel clacking against the wooden floor she suddenly felt every eye in the room staring at her. It felt like she was on stage and she was seized by stage fright. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, it was a mix of performance anxiety and genuine fear. It has been too long since she's been in the spot light where people were scrutinizing her every moves. Her fight or flight senses were tearing her apart. The worst part was as she was breathing hard all this time, the damn stay or corset was constricting her chest so much that she was feeling light headed. She staggered to the side, gripping the door and immediately a group of "concerned" Red coats jumped at her rescue.

"Betty, bring this gentlewoman some nourishment and a pint! Lads make way for her!" Called out the officer who had pushed the other soldiers aside and helped Meryl up.

She was ushered over to the bench and plopped down with almost an army of Red Coats in tow. From the corner of her eye she saw Connor slipping in effortlessly as she did indeed grab all the attention to herself. This worked better than expected.

The interior of the inn was very rustic, at least to a 21st century person such as Meryl, but it was also quite worn. The center of attention was the large stone hearth where a dark steaming cauldron simmered while a pig roast rotated over the fire pit by a black slave girl. The hearth's largeness illuminated the room and gave a homey comforting warmth. Even though the inn was made of bricks, it used a lot of wood at the bottom of the walls for the sake of aesthetic and maybe insulation. Creaky floor boards covered the ground, wobbly benches hid under the rectangular tables that bore slashes on the edges and scarred columns in the middle adorned the room. Further in the back beyond the bar counter were stairs and a balcony where a man and a prostitute were conversing. It was almost a shack. Yet the majestic hearth added life to the dullness of the wood-on-wood action. It almost made Meryl think of a mead hall where the Vikings would gather.

It was insane how within a few minutes Meryl had taken the entire attention from the inn away from Connor. Even those who sat at the makeshift bar, turned their bodies or head in her direction.

"You better drink something, luv." Chirped the plump, red cheeked and greasy dark haired barmaid.

Meryl blinked at her a few times but then quickly grabbed the pint and downed its contents in a few gulps earning surprised murmurs and gasps from the Red coats.

The officer who had helped her up sat next to her observing her intently with concern.

"What happened to you, Miss…?" he inquired gingerly, his crisp voice interrupting the murmurs and chatter of the men surrounding Meryl.

For the first time she actually looked at the officer and was quite surprised to meet a very striking pair of green eyes accompanying a chiseled face covered or even highlighted nicely with a dark and well-groomed and trimmed beard. His face looked weather worn with deep frown lines and crinkling eyes.

"Austen, Sarah Austen."

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Austen. I am captain John Bradley of the SS Phoenix."

Meryl turned her attention to the food in front of her. She stared at it.

It wasn't him. He wasn't that Kenway or at least he didn't say he was.

"Miss Austen, may I inquire how you received this injury?"

"Highway robbery." She stated bluntly, looking straight in front of her. "I was lucky to escape before they started shooting after me."

The clamor of appall rose again almost deafening any of the conversation within her radius.

"Heavens! Who were those criminals?" echoed a bunch of red coats.

"Their faces were covered in black cloths and only their eyes were visible."

"_How ghastly_." The captain gasped with a genuine concern that it made Meryl feel guilty for lying. "Were you the only?"

Meryl nodded.

"They shot the coachman in the head, execution style and tossed his body in the ditch." Meryl expressed, the tears welling up in her eyes in part from the pain in her cheeks rather than the _supposed _death of the coachmen.

The captain frowned with disapproval and disgust while looking very compassionately at her.

"Then how have you received these injuries?"

Meryl gave a fake hiccup which prompted the captain to grasp her hand gently.

"They-they hit me, robbed my luggage and left me beside the rotting corpse of the coachman."

Tears were free flowing now. The nerves were getting to her, the impact of the slap was finally settling into her body making her legs shake uncontrollably. No sob came out of her mouth, just silent tears.

The captain was positively horrified of the story.

"Betty! Bring her another pint!" the captain called out.

The men that surrounded her carried a compassionate look towards her. She never received that much attention in her life, it felt weird and especially since she was lying. They were blocking the view towards Connor's transactions in the back of the room. She wished to see him, even just a glance from his direction, it would leave some reassurance that she was doing well.

The oak door creaked open and a small entourage of officers followed a key figure. A portly man with a white receding hair that fell behind his ears. His face was round with a strong jaw, prominent nose with tight linned lips that at the corners were sagging from all the war. He strode in with a cane, his red knee length coat flapping after him, bearing his protruding stomach under a white vest and blue ribbon draped across his trunk. Gold buttons lined his coat, a silver medal gleamed against the reddish hue of the fire and golden stringed epaulettes swayed along catching the reds of the fire. The dulled clanking of his saber accompanied his lumbered stride.

"Boys! It is time to head back to the barracks! Tomorrow we are to depart to Boston." One of the officer's shouted a command.

With groans and stomps of protest the Red coats began to shuffle out of the inn grumbling and cursing with discontent under their breath.

"Any more grumbling and protesting will earn you 20 lashes!" called out another officer as they ushered out the remaining Red coats.

"Ah captain Bradley - oh gracious what happened?!" the man in charge approached the table and stared at Meryl in shock.

"Highway robbers, General Leighton." The captain responded.

Meryl's heart clenched at the name and she instinctively lowered her face and avoided eye contact with him.

"Oh dear." His round face scrunched up with compassion. "Are you fine, Miss? We will find those criminals and they will receive what they deserve."

"Thank you." Meryl managed to utter.

"I have to apologize young miss but I need an urgent word with the captain. Haytham! Assist this young lady and make some arrangements for her and once you have completed the task come to my head quarters."

General Leighton strode out of the inn and the captain placed his hand in front of Meryl on the table to gain her attention.

"I am terribly sorry for the interruption. Take care Miss Austen and I wish you a speedy recovery." He said and gave her a crinkling smile which warmed her up.

He left the inn and now another man got up from the next table, turned around and walked over to her. She continued to play the victim as it appeared to have kept her safe from unwanted advances. So, she didn't even look up at him when this man stood in front of her across the table. He sat down with his bowl and pint in his hands and placed them before him with a loud clatter.

"Miss Austen, how are you feeling?" an assertive yet calm tone broke through the veil of safety she had errected.

For some reason the way he spoke, there was something in the tone and quality of his voice which strangely piqued her interest. She raised her head and met him face to face.

In front of her sat a man with smooth skin and slightly tanned with a rounded but pronounced chin, deep set eyes and prominent black brows that almost cast a permanent shadow to his piercing ocean blue eyes. His lips were almost cemented shut and laughing lines lacked in his smooth face. It appeared he carried an everlasting grave face as if he was constantly calculating his moves and his surroundings. The only thing that gave away his age were the streaks of silver gray hair lining the side of his head and his black but slowly graying hair was tied back with a red ribbon that matched to the strings that kept his black cape that was lined with gold in place. He wore an impressive set of clothes that looked heavy duty but rich in quality. This man was definitely wealthier than the rest. He kept his clothes to a monochromatic color that of a blackish blue which made his strong eyes stand out from his face. A heavy belt draped across the chest which held his pistol and saber in place.

Meryl's heart skipped a beat. Something about the way his lips lined and that were firmly shut reminded her of someone. This man emanated a vibe that was both intimidating but also terribly tantalizing to her.

"I am fine." She responded directly.

"Are you certain? I see that you are still trembling." He noted and there was a smugness in his feature that made him both likeable and fucking annoying.

"What else do you expect, Mr…"

"Kenway, Haytham Kenway."

Meryl's heart dropped and her entire surroundings crumbled to bits as she stared at him. This man… And suddenly she saw the striking resemblance between Connor's face and his. Their faces almost perfectly aligned with each other from the shape of their nostrils, the permanent pressed lips that made them both look like they were calculative, the deep set eyes clouded with mystery and intent and the overall lack of happiness in their face. Meryl was actually sitting in front of Connor's father, his mortal enemy.

Her pulsed raced. She was praying that her body didn't betray her true feelings, the surprise or even shock at the sound of his name.

"Mr. Kenway, I am not sure what you expect of me," She intoned now, clearing her throat and also maintaining a calm yet defiant expression. "It's a natural response when grazing death, is it not?"

The right corner of his lips tugged with amusement at her answer.

"Yes, Miss Austen, you are quite right. Yet you appear very lucid and collected." He noted and his eyes scrutinized her.

Her heart raced anxiously but she kept her calm front and crossed her arms in front of her.

"And you like to suspect people first before becoming acquainted to them."

"That is a healthy habit, Miss Austen, especially in these sensitive times."

They eyed each other. She was treading in hot water and she had to be careful. She grabbed her pint and sipped from it while allowing her eyes to scan her surroundings. Her eyes finally fell on Connor who had a tense and alarmed face. He began to rub his chin with the top of his fingers.

This was the first signal. He was almost done with the contact.

She returned her attention to her pint and this time gulped down the liquor.

"Where are you from?" Haytham suddenly asked her. "I do not recognize your accent."

"How about you, yours doesn't sound any better."

He finally gave a little scoff and the corner of his mouth pulled with intrigue.

"I have never met a woman this brazen."

She gave him a chortle with the corner of her lips tugged with self-satisfaction.

"Well I am sorry that you've never met a living woman before."

Haytham muffled a chortle and titled his head, studying her like she was a fascinating specimen, but his face hardened to that permanent neutral look.

"Miss Austen, quite audacious and reckless of you to speak to me this way. If I was a different person another bruise would have been added to your left cheek…" he told him with the calm and confident smile, "but I am a patient man."

Meryl rolled her eyes in his direction.

"Well I am patient woman too otherwise you would have been slapped as well."

"Such a marvelously feisty character, you have me intrigued." He acknowledged, but suddenly he drew his cocked pistol in a way that was hidden away. "Now who are you and what are you doing in enemy territory?"

Meryl's body froze and the entire world came to a standstill. Her heart hammered furiously against her chest, she felt her palms bathing in cold sweat.

"If you make the slightest movement even the most _innocuous _kind, I will shoot a gaping hole in your chest." He declared, his blue soulless eyes searing through hers. "I know my son is here and your little ruse cannot fool me. You are exceptionally good, but not good enough to deceive me."

He gave a snort and his eyes briefly eyed the ceiling as if he was remembering something and then he gave her smug look.

"The old man was desperate enough to hire a woman when Connor alone would suffice."

The anger pulsed through her body and she wanted to pummel this man's face oh-so-dearly despite he was the father of Connor. He was handsome and charming in a devilish way and he absolutely lacked tact when he approached her. Of course it could be because he was alerted of their presence. And who was his informer? Meryl's heart grew cold, could it be that somebody she knew passed on the information?

After a tense standoff Haytham withdrew his pistol and returned to his neutral stance of his tight-lipped expression.

"You can signal him whatever you like. I suggest you leave immediately. He appears rightfully anxious about your safety."

Haytham got up, downed his liquor from his pint with his steely eyes piercing hers.

"Why are you both in two separate camps?" the question leaped out of her mouth without a thought.

It caused Haytham to halt in his actions and made him ponder only briefly until he eyed her with suspicion.

"Have they not told you what we are?"

Meryl lowered her eyes and did not respond.

"That is fascinating." He mused with intrigue, "This means they don't trust you but yet here you are neck deep in enemy territory. This is quite telling of their situation."

"Why should you care about me when Achilles and Connor are your targets?"

Haytham gave her chuckle that was condescending.

"Oh plenty, my dear. They allowed you into their fold and they would never hire an ordinary woman or person." He explained, "If I may ask without prying and on professional level, what do you specialize in?"

"Combat."

"I see, this would explain how you recovered so swiftly after Connor's _accidental strike_."

Meryl's eyes sharpened and she bit back from lashing out at him. _He was egging her on._

"May our paths never cross again. It would be tragic to kill a woman." He said and left the table, heading towards the exit of the inn.

Meryl immediately twirled her finger through the loose strand of her hair and she got up. That was the signal to _get the fuck out of here_. She ignored the calls from the barmaid and the others and simply walked outside.

Haytham was out of sight.

Meryl's heart was ready to implode.

* * *

"Connor, grab the horses and let's leave _now_!" Meryl declared with urgency as they stood in front of the tree at the bottom of the incline away from the Red Baron Inn.

"What is the matter?"

Meryl did not dare to reveal her knowledge of the relation between Connor and his father.

"I have a gut feeling that this guy I was talking to did not believe my story. Right now he is getting someone to "take care of me".

Connor's jaw stiffened. He studied Meryl's face, he too seemed to doubt her words and his overall aura changed entirely, a lethal tension seeped out of him. He quickly looked back at the Inn and then sunk his eyes to the ground in thought. Meryl could see the visible tension forming in his growing frown and his milky brown eyes appeared darker than usual not due the dimness of the night but of his thoughts.

He didn't make an attempt to fight her statement although she could see that doubt in his eyes. He simply flicked his head to the side.

"Let us return home." He announced and suddenly he pursued his lips and a sweet and lulling whistle erupted from his mouth.

The distant thudding of horse hooves against moist ground grew closer. However, only one horse appeared. A Palomino horse with brown and white splotches all over its body with a patch of white fur shaped like a howling wolf on its forehead.

Connor's face grew concerned and he patted the horse and spoke in his Mohawk tongue.

"What happened to the other horse?" Meryl voiced Connor's concern out loud.

"I don't know…" he uttered with a pause.

When they had arrived at the Inn she rode a black mare, but she was nowhere. Only the younger and somewhat hot blooded female Palomino horse had showed up.

"Let us hope she has made her way back." Connor stated, "For now we will ride _her_ back."

Meryl swallowed uncomfortable and walked over to the horse. Connor helped her up on the saddle and he climbed up after her, sitting snuggly behind her. Meryl's heart skipped a beat and she almost wheezed due to her corset restricting her breathing. That infernal dress while beautiful made the space between her back and Connor's chest inexistent. In fact, she felt his heat seeping through her clothes even through her damn corset!

"Ready?" his voice tickled her right ear and she jerked in response as if somebody had swatted her ear.

"Yup - go." She stammered.

_She swore to God that he was grinning at her reaction!_

They took off in a trot which gradually turned into a gallop as they left the town.

It was definitely passed 1 AM maybe close to 2 AM and Meryl began to feel the exhaustion set in. The alcohol intake, although minor at least to her standards, was making her drowsy, but overall the entire mission had taken a big chunk of her energy, Conner's accidental slap was forgotten…more or less.

"Briar, hold on, otherwise you will fall off." Connor said gruffly.

"I am _trying_, okay!" she snapped back at him with heavy eyelids with her head bobbing about.

Connor pulled on the rein bringing the horse to a full stop. He rummaged through the saddle bag and pulled out a rope. Then he threw the rope around her midriff and around his and tied it to the front of the saddle.

"You know, I could sit in the back and you could tie me so that my body and face leans against your back." Suggested Meryl.

"Terrible idea. You will fall backwards if we have to gallop." Stated Connor with a painful directness that made Meryl's idea sound utterly stupid.

"Ohhh…" was the only thing she could utter before becoming quiet again as she felt the tug of the rope around her midriff tightening.

"Is it too tight?" his voice again tickled her right ear.

_Fuck him!_

"It's a little tight, I am also wearing that infernal corset as well." She grumbled.

The last information was probably TMI, but he made no comment and added more slack to the rope. They were ready.

"Rest your back against my chest."

Meryl almost choked and she snapped her attention at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that an order or an invitation?"

Connor heaved a groan and forcefully pressed her body into his chest by pressuring his palm between her two collar bones above her chest. However, for Meryl it felt like he was hugging a thick tree stump.

"Uhm, I can't slouch in this corset or lean back like that… Can I take it off?"

Suddenly, all the tension of the world dropped on their shoulders. The epicenter was Connor. Meryl was too exhausted and possibly not really her sane self when the next request poured out of her mouth.

"Can you help me take it off?"

His body stiffened to a cement wall. Meryl groaned.

"Pleaaase, Connor? It would save me the trouble when I go to bed."

There was a moment of silence where only the noise of the forest filled the void between them. Without a word he loosened the rope and was first to get off the horse, then he helped her down too.

It was incredibly dark too and they were in the middle of a forest.

"You won't see my skin or anything anyway." Meryl added quickly, "I have a shift underneath the corset, you know a very long shirt kind of thing. Of course, I have a hooped petticoat as well that keeps the shape of the dress, but we can discard all that stuff."

Connor remained as quiet as the sleeping critters in the forest, not moving a muscle or making a sound. Meryl deliberately turned her back on him for decency's sake or more for Connor's sake. Without much care, she grabbed her dress by the hems and pulled up and over her head. Blindly in the dimness of the night she fumbled for the strings that held the hooped petticoat, unfastened it and tossed it aside with a triumphant swing of her hand.

"Can you help me?" she now directed his attention to the corset.

He squinted a few times.

"See those strings? Undo the tied part and just loosen it and I can take care of the rest."

There was a pause again and Meryl suddenly felt very self-conscious and guilty for doing that to him. It was probably very indecent of a 18th century woman to do this if they were not married or something, but Meryl was not one of them and she was frankly _too tired_ to give a shit.

When she was about to throw in the towel, she suddenly felt his rough fingers grasp the strings in a very gingerly way. Meryl had to hold back a gasp, it was unexpectedly gentle. His fingers traced every loop hooked his fingers between them to loosen it. With every loop loosened the more Meryl could breathe freedom again. Yet despite not giving a shit or so she thought, the sensation of his fingers poking her back as he loosened the loops grew more and more acute. Even as he worked himself down it seemed his fingers would linger longer than the previous.

Meryl felt herself getting lost in a haze where time was slowing down. She was breathing slower and steadier as if receiving a massage as Connor's fingers, whether intentional or not, left gentle fingerprints down her back.

She didn't realize that Connor had actually managed to pull out the strings that kept both sides of the corset tied together. She gasped softly when he peeled it off and dropped it to the ground. The coolness of the night invaded her body and she starkly felt Connor's body radiating from behind her.

He suddenly brushed his fingers down her back, as if smoothing out the wrinkles caused by the corset and the accumulation of sweat. Meryl bit her lip in an attempt to contain her arousal, but a soft sigh escaped her lips.

Strong arms seized her around her stomach, pressing her back against the burning chest of Connor. His head rested against the side of her head, hovering over her right shoulder. His breath tickled her ear.

"Is this a game to you?" he breathed in a voice that was low and barely a whisper, his hot breath tracing the crook of her neck without his lips touching it. "Are you testing whether I am man enough to respond to your tease?"

Meryl was so caught up in her own arousal that she was paralyzed and didn't realize she was supposed to answer him until Connor brusquely tightened his arms around her body, closing the gap between their bodies earning a gasp from her. She _felt_ him, felt his heat setting aflame her own core, but she was paralyzed. The old Meryl would have jumped him, ridden him down to the bones until the early morning and not be sorry about it, but what she felt for him was like a slippery slope that once she gave in, nothing would stop the avalanche.

"Answer me!" He breathed hard in her right ear, his lips touching her ear lobe.

Out of spite his lips finally touched the crook of her neck and her body exploded with shivers and she sighed again. Her eyes opened wide lips pursed from the sheer intensity that finally she regained some sense.

"Connor…" she breathed in a pleading tone, "You are being cruel-

-_Cruel_?" he interjected with a sharp hiss, "Could you not foresee that your actions would amount to this?"

"But Connor, it's been years since I-

-What? Bedded a man?"

Meryl's face heated up and she suddenly felt very ashamed.

"I can play this game too. I am a man, I have needs as well."

_Then show it to me! Take me now in the middle of this God damn forest! Make me scream and beg for you! _Is what she wanted to scream at him, but she had lost her voice and a deep sense of shame took over instead that turned into humiliation then into anger.

What he did to her wasn't necessarily a proof of his feelings but more of a statement, a warning to be careful about how she behaves in front of men and also remind her that Connor is a man too. It was the sexist bullshit that Meryl had to deal with in the Marine Corps. Just because a man is stronger than a woman and just because she wants to have fun or be herself it does not mean he can do whatever he wants with her. She has proven herself numerous times stronger than her male peers, where they crumbled, she stood tall, where they hesitated, she reacted, where they failed, she succeeded.

Meryl was not making an excuse for his behavior, no, she was trying to understand him. Connor was by far not a sexist. He was by far the most progressive person she has ever met in the 18th century, he did not give a shit about class, wealth or the sexes, he was upfront and just. He was honest and straightforward. This, while very out-of-character, was him proving a point that he was a person that needed respect as a person and as a man.

She hated his guts now, but she understood why he did this.

He withdrew completely from her, making her shiver of the absence of his body heat. Then unexpectedly the tears welled up in her eyes and she turned around to face him. Now the anger boiled over and she unleashed a thunderous slap against Connor's cheek.

"_I fucking hate you_." She hissed through clenched teeth, glaring at him with her teary eyes.

She shoved passed him, mounted the horse and took off in a gallop leaving behind a mute but sullen Connor.

18


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine

**So, uhm, hiiii... OKAY I AM SORRY I NEEDED A BREAK . Summer classes left me brain dead on a couch, or more like brain dead in front of my computer playing Skyrim and staring at my smexy and virile high elf although he looks more like Nord, and here goes another nosebleed... AHEM! Yes, I am back-ish... my last semester as a senior in college is nigh OH MA GAWD! O Existential crisis is hitting me hard... Been a student my entire life and I am quite a profesh at it, but now I have to get ready to move onto a better place -the _work place. _DUN-DUN-DAAAAAAH! ohmygodhelpme.**

**Anyway, how are y'all doing? How was your summer? Mine was _murderous_. Sorry for the late and delayed update, I will try to keep up as this chapter down below needs chapter 30 to, uhm, complete the picture and like I mentioned a few times with other chapters I had to do some cutting to make it not so long.**

**As always thank you so much for the support. Keep them coming coz imma need it when the last semester drags me kicking and screaming into the pits of hell...okay I am kidding I love school, but its gotten to the point where school is very possessive of me and I don't like where it is going, but I can't get enough of him, I just can't... okay gotta stop and seek professional help. I will break up with him after I graduate which is in December.**

**Love you all. Stay cool. Go, enjoy the chapter!**

**PS: one lovely reviewer said when Connor and Meryl finally get together or more like when both their intense feelings collide, it will be explosive - oh honey you have no idea! Y'all better strap in and go in your bunkers, a hydrogen bomb will detonate and I will be sitting outside with my shades on and sipping my pina colada watching the glorious atomic mushroom form while profusely crying with joy. **

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY NINE**

**~ Rugged beauty ~**

It was in the dead of the night when she trotted on the path that curbed around the Davenport manor. Thankfully, Meryl knew the area enough to get back home, in one piece and unharmed. She led the horse down to the stable. She tied the horse, gave her some hay and water and a good pat down for a job well done. The black mare was nowhere to be seen. It maybe got lost or somebody stole her. Meryl loved that black mare, she was calm, trusting and very affectionate. Connor definitely favored the Palomino horse more, it was a young, fiery and committed much like he is. But, the Palomino brought her back to the manor and she could not complain.

Meryl lumbered back up the manor, grabbing an arm full of her now trailing dress that did not fit her anymore because she had removed the corset and the hooped petticoat. She probably looked sexy as fuck, showing off her undergarment and boots, struggling up a light incline with an arm load of dress in her arms. 18th century men would immediately accept the invitation and line up to get a piece of her.

She made it all the way around the manor and entered the front door. The floorboard creaked under her weight and suddenly she heard loud scratches against wood. She found herself knocked down on her butt as her face was licked clean by Kazuma. He gave a pleased yowl which Meryl tried hard to hush, but she found herself giggling.

"_Psst! Boy! Keep it down_!" she whispered with urgency and gently pushed him off of her.

His tongue was out, his yellow eyes almost glowing in the 3 AM darkness as he was bouncing on his paws and his tail wagging furiously. Meryl smiled and patted him.

"Let's go to bed."

Kazuma followed her up the stairs and into her room.

* * *

The persistent movements and activity in the manor woke her up. It was 8 AM which made Meryl almost cry. She meant to sleep until noon or something, but since she lived here 7 to 8 AM was her general waking hour.

With a groan and some flailing of her arms she caught Kazuma's sleepy gaze. He sat in front of the fireplace, paws crossed over with his feet tucked in front of him, forming an oblong shape. That wolf was massive and he was just a young adult! Give him another month or two he would be more filled out.

She got up, pressing her feet on the cool carpet that saved her from feeling the eternally icy floorboard. Today, she was going to be casual as fuck. She grabbed her hide garments, bandaged her boobs and later her forearms and bottom parts of her legs to secure her clothes. She even tied her hair together, but decided to follow Connor's hairstyle where she slicked the hair on the top of her head back to form a small ponytail with the rest of her hair dangling down her shoulders. It took all the hair away from her face and even gave her a masculine look which was _interesting_. She tied her hair with a piece of leather string. The entire get-up made her look exceptionally masculine and frontier man, but she didn't give a shit. All she wanted right now is freedom. She wanted to eat breakfast, run in the forest, play fetch with Kazuma and maybe go for a swim at her own leisure and avoid Connor.

She forbade her mind and body to process what happened last night or just few hours ago between her and Connor. It was a moment of weakness, that's what it was.

When she stood fully dressed in front of her vanity, Kazuma had finally awoken and walked over to her side, sitting down beside her. She patted his head.

"Let's go have breakfast."

Kazuma got back to his feet with excitement coursing through his body.

She opened the door and he darted out.

Kazuma was welcomed with Hanna's usual cooing and giggles, but when Meryl stepped into the kitchen suddenly the room broke out with a shrieks and gasps.

"_What on earth happened to you, hun_?!" exclaimed Marie in utter shock, she had dropped her wooden spoon and ran over to Meryl's side. "_Who did this_?!"

It took a moment to register what Hanna and Marie were so shocked about until Marie poked with her finger Meryl's cheek. She hissed and cupped her cheek when a dull pain erupted.

_Oh yeah, she forgot. She was accidentally slapped by Connor._

"_Ingrid_!" yelled Marie, "_You gotta see this_!"

The distant sound of thudding boots against the floor board approached.

"Mein Gott, vhat is the matter…UM HIMMELS WILLEN!" Ingrid stepped in the kitchen and dropped the basket of laundry on the floor grasping her cheeks in terror.

"_Who did this_?!" Ingrid demanded, touching Meryl's face but also gripping Meryl's upper arm a little too tightly.

Then another sound of creaking floorboards emerged. Meryl's heart skipped a beat. All the domestics went quiet and stared at the person that just appeared in the doorway. There he was, Connor. Before he arrived Meryl was sat down on the bench by the ladies with her back facing the doorway and Connor's stare.

"_Connor! What happened to her_?" Ingrid growled with an intensity that made Meryl shudder, "If by Gott, it was you…"

For some inexplicable reason he chose to be silent.

"_Connor, what happened_?" Marie took Ingrid's side as well, her patience growing thin.

"It was an accident." He managed to utter.

"_What_?!" both fiery ladies blew up.

These women were going to roast him, but Meryl brusquely got up filled with anger and stood in front of Connor in part to break the conflict and also to defend him.

"There was no accident! I am fine!" Meryl exclaimed, interrupting them with a shaking anger. "Connor did not hit me! Now back off! _I am soldier_, injuries like these are so common that it doesn't hurt anymore!"

The wide eyes and parted mouths of shock on Marie and Ingrid's face was something she would never forget.

"We did our work and we are both alive. Now drop it and leave us alone!"

Meryl stormed out of the kitchen and left the manor for the day with Kazuma hot on her heels.

* * *

Meryl sighed deeply when she immersed her body into the cooling water of her secret spring. It was still May, but she could tell that gradually the temperature was climbing in little increments. Living on the East Coast her entire life and in-and-around New York City she knew how murderous summer could be, the humidity and heat, it felt like somebody held a magnifying glass over New York City. She dreaded the summer heat in the 18th century colonial America, especially with the lack of air conditioning and the women's clothes fashion that just seemed to encourage body odor and discomfort.

The foliage provided such a great cover. She was bathing in the nude and Kazuma was somewhere off in the woods, sniffing out a trail or munching on some critters. She noticed that he began to wander further and further and she couldn't reel her in as much as she hoped, he was a wolf, a young adult wolf filled with a vigor that would intimidate the alpha males of any wolf pack. Hot-blooded, stubborn and quite playful, he was at times quite a handful, but to compensate for his bursts of his true wild nature, he was a fiercely loyal and protective companion. Even if he did wander off, ignoring her calls to return home, he always seemed within earshot or scent-shot from Meryl. She didn't want to let go of him, she had gotten attached to him in a way that was very similar what she perceived was a parental attachment. Her heart squeezed unpleasantly when her thoughts drifted to him possibly leaving her soon. It was spring after all. Season of mating. The forest was louder than usual. Meryl chuckled when she remembered what Marie said a few days before the mission. Marie kept sighing that the critters were getting more action than she was which made Ingrid blush beet red and Hanna cover her face in embarrassment.

A playful growl brought Meryl's attention back to reality. She looked up to find Kazuma nonchalantly trotting towards her with a half gnawed hare dangling from his teeth.

"Ooooh, somebody went hunting." And she stretched out her hand and Kazuma pushed his head against her palm to get a good caress.

Kazuma moved over to a spot that would not get him wet, laid on all fours and continued munching down on his gored prize. The grotesque sound of the snapping of cartilage and loud chewing strangely complemented the other more soothing sounds of the forest. Nothing was out of place, everything was in harmony.

Meryl had been soaking in that spring for at least an hour. She could tell from the sun passing through the foliage and her fingers looking wrinkly. It was mid-afternoon, 2ish. With a deep drawn sigh, she got up, wiped off the excess water from her skin and quickly got dressed.

After the mission she realized that she didn't want to return to the slow life she had these past months. It was silly but even though the mission was completed more than 12 hours ago and the result was mixed, she realized she craved more excitement and adventure. She craved a change of scenery, maybe living in a town or city would give her a newfound pleasure for the 18th century. As of right now, she was still treated like a guest and was often limited to working for Achilles, especially with the maintenance of the Davenport manor. Also Connor tried his hardest (maybe she was being cynical) to exclude her from his activities surrounding the Davenport property and its people living there.

Meryl whistled and Kazuma was at her heel.

"Let's go hunting boy."

Kazuma's ears perked up and he gave a content bark and they walked deeper into the forest.

* * *

"Welcome back Master," Ingrid greeted Achilles as she helped him down from his carriage. "How was New York?"

"Productive, my dear. Is Connor and Miss Briar back?"

"Yes, but they are both out and about."

Achilles paused but then the answer struck him and he gave a large and defeated sigh.

"Those two…" he muttered to himself

"…Miss Briar has sustained some injuries." Ingrid added with a cautious tone as she was aiding Achilles up the stairs in front of the manor.

"How so?" Achilles responded back with a calm tone which Ingrid did not take well.

"Someone beat her - her cheek is bruised!" Ingrid snapped at him, but she quickly corrected herself by shutting her mouth.

They stopped mid-step and Achilles looked over at her. It did not take him long to understand her anger.

"Connor did not hit her." He stated without hesitation and Ingrid lashed back at him.

"_What makes you certain_?"

Achilles sighed on more time.

"My dear, I understand your sentiments, however I must remind you that Miss Briar is a trained warrior and thus is used to injuries such as these."

Ingrid backed away with disgust.

"She is still a woman! A beautiful and caring woman! She does not deserve this mistreatment!" Ingrid's body trembled and she cast her eyes to the ground her eyes beginning to well up.

Achilles quickly grabbed her hand and held it, gaining her full attention. His dark eyes displaying the same compassion he showed when he brought under his employment.

"She would be the last person on this earth to allow a man to treat her this way, Ingrid. She is too proud and too stubborn."

Achilles lowered his voice and gave Ingrid a gentle squeeze of her shoulder to gain her attention. He could never forget that day when he saw the teary relief in her eyes and her healing bruised lips when he offered her some employment.

"Have faith in me, in Connor and Miss Briar, Ingrid." He told her in warm voice and gave her a smile.

Ingrid stared at Achilles, reading his words and his overall body language. It was like she was brought back to the first day she met him, the only man that had treated her with respect and human dignity. She lowered her eyes, feeling them moisten a little and she smiled fondly at the memory of their first encounter.

After a moment she sighed, the mistiness of her eyes clearing. Achilles saw Ingrid's usual self-returning and he gave her another pat on the shoulder and they resumed their walk up the stairs.

"Are all preparations made?"

"What for – Oh! You mean for Master Leighton? Yes, he is to arrive in an hour on Captain Faulkner's ship."

"Splendid."

However, Ingrid suddenly froze with her face contorted in shock and realization.

"What is the matter?" Achilles asked.

"Miss Briar…"

"What of her?"

"She is injured…"

"Oh dear." Achilles too realized the problem, "Has Miss Briar explained the cause of the injuries?"

Ingrid shook her head. Achilles had the feeling that Meryl and Connor _improvised_ the injuries and if they had been involved in a brawl news would have gotten to him very quickly.

"I am certain Miss Briar has an elaborate story prepared."

Ingrid looked nervous and Achilles again patted her shoulder in a calming manner.

"Ingrid, the slightest hesitation will expose our truth and we cannot have that."

Ingrid made eye contact with him, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"In addition, young Master Leighton is the son of General William Leighton, who works closely with General Charles Cornwallis, our colonial _administrator_."

"_Cornwallis_?" She repeated and crossed herself as if she uttered a curse.

[Side note: General Cornwallis, is an actual historical figure, of the British army who played a vital role as a colonial administrator in the United States and he would become the leading General in the American Revolution. He would be remembered for the Siege of Yorktown in 1781 in Virginia where he surrendered which was a decisive victory for the American Continental Army.]

"Do you now understand why you must not falter?"

Ingrid now nodded with a newfound determination. For Achilles, it wasn't just a meeting with some random high class British citizen or a friend, it was a descendant of British General that was visiting them, mostly for business, but who in a strange turn of events has found interest in their guest, Miss Briar. Achilles had to take advantage of the opportunity.

"Yes, I understand." Ingrid finally agreed.

"Good."

* * *

They made their way up the stairs and into the manor.

Meryl had captured four hares with the help of Kazuma and sacrificed one to him. She could have hunted a doe but she didn't have the energy to carry that thing on her shoulder and most of them had young ones. If she killed the mother she would have to kill the babies and she didn't have the heart to do that.

It was 3 PM. The sun was filtering through the thick foliage of the forest. She had chosen a pocket of forest that was not too far away from the docks where the Aquilla was usually docked. But she hadn't seen the ship for weeks now. It was quiet and weird without the activity of sailors chatters, shouts of Captain Faulkner, the scampering of feet and the lugging of cargoes and the incessant creaking and moaning of the ship.

Kazuma of course had gone off somewhere with his treat. Meryl had the feeling that he found a mate somewhere. It was the only logical explanation for his random absences.

"_Lucky bastard getting some ass_…" she mumbled to herself as she slowly walked up the incline.

Instead of remaining on the usual path expressly created the docks that would lead to a fork with one path leading straight to the manor and the other to the Homestead community, she decided to go off-road into the forest and head towards a nearby river to clean out the freshly caught hares.

It was a stream that was tucked away between boulders. She bet it came from that exact river where she saved the little Native American boy. That memory felt ancient. She had been living in the 18th century for almost half a year.

She found a spot that was covered in pebbles and flat enough to gut her three hares. The boulders gave her privacy and protection. She kept a sharp ear towards unusual sounds.

When she was in the process of gutting her third and last hare, her eyes wandered and they suddenly spotted an imprint on the muddy sand on the other bank of the narrow river. Her heart sank and she got up and jumped across.

"A bear, a fresh one." She whispered, her eyes searching her surroundings.

She flinched when she heard a twig crack. She froze, her eyes directed at the source which was beyond the boulder somewhere in the shrubbery. She backtracked slowly and quickly snipped off with her knife the remaining organs that she had placed on a pile beside her. She will take the livers, but leave behind the rest to whomever/whatever had tracked the scent.

She quickly washed off her hands and knife, grabbed the hollowed out hares and left behind a generous pile of guts.

Now she heard a snort and decided to walk fast. She turned back and found the back of a brown mass of fur bent over the pile of guts she had just left behind.

_It was a fucking brown bear!_

Meryl quickened her pace until she almost ran, jumping across the bumpy ground of the forest until she finally broke out onto a path that led to the forked road. She made her way to the path that led to the Davenport manor and grasped the stone wall that lined it. She took a deep breath to steady her frightened heart.

However, she did not hear a horseman approaching until it was too late.

"My good fellow, can you direct me to the Davenport m-

The world came to a full speed halt, brakes screeching and smashing head first into an oncoming truck.

Alexander Leighton.

There he was in his usual gala of tailored and refined clothes wearing some hints of greens and light blues in his knee length coat to reflect the Spring season. He stared at her agape, blinking a few times unable to respond.

He got off his horse as if hoping that it was just a dream.

"Is-is it really you?!" Alexander stammered in disbelief, unable to trust his eyes, "What happened – what are you…"

He could not finish his sentence. He was baffled out of his mind. There was Meryl dressed in a garb that was reminiscent of Native American and frontier men rather than wearing a dress, facing a British aristocrat that placed women on pedestal of beauty, domesticity and grace. And there was Meryl manly AF covered in grime, bruised face stained with sweat, blood and dirt, 3 dead hares on her shoulder with her combat knife drawn and ready for battle with her blond locks in a tatter.

Meryl too was unable to respond. Both her environment and herself concealed that part of her for a reason. Now Alexander faced her true nature, the rugged beauty that she always was. She was scared what he thought of her as his eyes continuously scanned her face and body almost with judgement.

When the tense silence and shock finally broke. Alexander held onto the leash and walked closer until they were arms-apart as if to confirm that it really was Meryl.

"What on _earth_ happened to you? What are those attires?" he demanded with impatience which suddenly transformed to alarming concern when he cupped her face, studying her injuries, "_Who did this_?"

Meryl hissed when his fingers grazed the bruise and he flinched. He tenderly held her cheeks so that she looked in his turbulent green eyes.

"_Who_ did this to you, my love?" he whispered, the genuine pain in his eyes.

Then she saw dangerous development as Alexander Leighton's face began to change. Ideas began to form and a dawning realization hit him.

"Did…did this _savage_ hit you?" his face scrunched up with growing anger.

"What savage?" her voice came out unexpectedly weak.

A glare formed and his green eyes were set aflame.

"_That red skinned brute_!"

Meryl gaped at him. This was new level of racism that she had never encountered in her life, even living in a diverse city like New York. Alexander could have said something more offensive and shocking but probably because it was improper to swear in front of a woman, he said something more "tame". Nevertheless, it left a bad taste in her mouth that he jumped to the conclusion of blaming Connor rather than another person. And for some stupid reason she replied with a collected but blunt response that showed her indifference.

"It was a Highway robbery."

"_Highway robbery?!_" he exploded with a shaking anger, "Where was your protection?!"

Then magically on cue or _terrible_ timing, Connor emerged from the behind the large shrubbery that obscured the view to the Davenport manor. He had gone down the stairs and the moment he came in sight of Meryl and Alexander, he froze. Alexander immediately locked horns with Connor and stormed over to Connor.

"You brute! Is it you that harmed her!" yelled Alexander in a fury, suddenly grasping the hilt of his saber, "I will _cut you_ where you stand!"

Connor had no visible tension in his face, but now his deep and grave frown and combat ready posture took over him as he grabbed the hilt of his hatchet.

"Stop it!" Meryl shouted and then she dropped her hares.

"_Master Leighton, I will not tolerate any blood shed on my estate_!" the loud and adamant raspy voice of Achilles shattered the tension between the men as also thumped his cane loudly on the porch.

Connor and Alexander froze and snapped their attention at Achilles who was accompanied by Ingrid.

"Connor! I instructed you to pick up some parcels from Captain Faulkner – now go!" barked Achilles with a thrust of his cane in the direction of the docked ship.

"He insulted me!" Connor indicated and glared at Alexander.

"CONNOR!" bellowed Achilles with such reprimand that he stomped his cane so hard that the bottom splintered.

Alexander flinched at the sound, but Connor remained undisturbed by it, instead he emitted a growl, glaring at Achilles and Alexander and then stormed off.

Meryl Briar leaned against the stonewall, relieved. When Connor was out of sight and out of mind, Achilles actually made an effort accompanied with Ingrid to walk down the stairs. When he was halfway down, the anger was still visible in his demeanor.

"Master Leighton, whether you like or not, on _my_ estate everyone is treated with equality and respect regardless of status. If you disrespect anyone on _my estate_, you _disrespect me_." Reproached Achilles with a firmness that displayed incredibly authority that even Alexander could not resist or counter.

Alexander's body language stiffened and he hastily took off his very swiftly hat and immediately offered a bow.

"I am- I am terribly sorry, Master Davenport. My behavior was inexcusable. I shall apologize to him once he returns."

His behavior had changed completely. All the elegance and decorum of his aristocratic upbringing flowed out of him which stunned Meryl into awe. It was so surreal for a 21st century person to witness such elegant behavior.

Achilles surveyed his nervous and apologetic behavior until he released a sigh.

"We cannot further dally on this matter, we have business to discuss." Declared Achilles with a calmer and neutral voice, "For now, Master Leighton will you join me in my study? Ingrid will fetch us some refreshments."

"Of-of course, Master Davenport." In a heartbeat he joined Achilles' side, momentarily forgetting Meryl's existence until they reached the porch.

Before Alexander turned around to look for her, Meryl had managed to escape out his sight and enter through the back door of the kitchen.

"Oh, hun!" exclaimed Marie, pressing her palm on her heart as if startled when Meryl opened the kitchen back door. "You went hunting…Hun?"

Meryl hung up the hares on some hooks and gave Marie an annoyed look.

"Nobody told me _he would come just a day after our mission_!" Meryl groaned in a low voice.

Marie raised her dark eyebrow in confusion until she realized what she meant then her face scrunched into an apologetic and nervous smile.

"Sorry, hun. We honestly forgot..." She told Meryl as she patted her on her shoulder, "Anyway, Achilles had to see him for a business matter too and…_why should you care_?"

Meryl gave her disbelieved look.

"Are you kidding me?!" Meryl grabbed a fistful of her hair in exasperation "He _saw me like this_?!Dressed like Frontier's man with dirt, blood and sweat all over my face, carrying dead hares on my shoulder! And with an injury to my face!"

Marie's face fell in realization, mirroring Meryl's shocked "oh fuck!" face.

"Now he suspects Connor of hurting me!"

"Did he?" Marie inquired with a sharpness and Meryl returned an exasperated groan.

"Marie, not now please! Of course he didn't!" she whimpered and sunk on the bench, covering her eyes in her palms. "I cannot face him anymore."

"Nonsense! Wipe yourself clean and change into your blue dress."

"I can't - He won't accept me! I saw how he looked at me with so much judgement!"

Meryl's voice had an unexpected tremor that she quickly corrected by clearing her throat. She even turned her head away, feeling at the pit of her stomach a fear that burst open like an old injury. Why did it come back? Had she finally descended back to her old insecure self again, the old Meryl that was so afraid of others judging her?

Meryl flinched when Marie sat beside her, her arm around Meryl's tense frame.

"Hun… he was caught off guard, nothing more." Marie's smooth voice that made Meryl think of southern comfort washed away the anxiety she felt. "You played-up his expectation, which got his attention in the first place, but you should know how men are easily fooled."

There was that knowing eye contact that both women shared, both were in part femme fatale's at heart and who relished in their prowess to woo men. It was empowering especially in a misogynistic society. That connection made Meryl smile. Marie gave a loud pat on the table.

"Please, I think if Connor appeared dressed like Master Leighton then you too would be judgin' him."

"Oh that would be a grand picture." Meryl snorted and grinned.

Marie snickered.

"However, sooner or later the truth would have revealed itself."

"Okay, not _that kind _of truth, Marie. He just saw me in my hunting gear. If he knows about my actual background, then I am sure he would be making mad dash for the next ship to England."

Marie snorted.

"Now I think you are overthinking it, hun."

"I am serious!" Meryl lowered her voice with precaution. "If he knew that I fight like a man, that I fought some red coats, that I carry a combat knife around…He would flip! Men like him place women on a high pedestal to be adored, cherished and coddled and I don't fit that mold!"

"Maybe he needs a change of scenery." Marie supplied then Meryl whacked her shoulder and she hissed "Ow, hun. British men often make the mistake of expecting to find the same breed of women like in their mother country, but oh are they surprised to discover what is under the sheets."

Marie held a cocky smile and her eyes sparkled as if she was remembering a particular memory. Meryl immediately spotted that zoned out gaze and went for the jugular.

"Oh, so somebody has _surprised some British man_, haven't we?" Meryl elbowed Marie with a sly grin. "Who is he?"

Marie's face suddenly fell and she quickly got up, nervousness and alarm seizing her body and her eyes.

"Whatever made you say that? Now go upstairs and get refreshed." Marie interjected hastily and quickly turned her back on her to focus on her cooking.

Meryl's interest were very piqued. A forbidden relationship, maybe? How delicious…

"Hun," Marie's calm voice emerged to interrupt Meryl's train of thought, "While Master Leighton was summoned to meet Achilles, he has come to see you as well. He will be staying a night or two. Expect him to be more forthcoming about his… sentiments."

"And _needs_. Don't forget _needs_, Marie." Meryl added with a dry jab which made Marie spin her head back and give an amused grin.

She was herself again. She raised her wooden spoon to point outside of the kitchen.

"A late letter of his arrived. I would read it as to not discomfort him."

Meryl got up and without a word left the kitchen and walked towards the dresser that lined the wall of the entrance which was used to place incoming or outgoing post. Luckily, Alexander was sitting on the chairs in Achilles' study that faced the fireplace. Meryl managed to grab the letter and made her way upstairs and disappeared in her room.

* * *

"I did not mean to insult you, Master Davenport." Alexander sat down across from Achilles who had placed his foot on an ottoman with a hiss. "I could not help myself after seeing Miss Briar in this state…"

"I understand your anger, Master Leighton, but it was rash."

"I am aware and I will apologize."

"Good."

Ingrid came in with a tea tray and two slices of baked berry pie. The coffee table was moved in the space between their chairs. Tea was poured and the slices were served and Ingrid left the room.

After both men took a few sips of their teas, Alexander cleared his throat.

"Seeing Miss Briar in her current attires was a very troubling sight…" Alexander spoke out, his tone calm but affected. "I expected her to be clothed appropriately, befitting a woman of society and not in those ghastly and unflattering beggar garb."

Achilles kept his cool. Alexander was most definitely accusing him of not taking proper care of Meryl. The words _A woman of society_ made Achilles chortle.

"What is so amusing?"

Achilles placed his tea on his saucer.

"You should know by now how incredibly stubborn, Miss Briar is." He explained, which immediately grabbed Alexander's attention, "The term that comes to my mind to describe Miss Briar is _unorthodox_. Everything about her is non-conformist including what you witnessed today."

"Whatever do you mean?" Alexander showed intrigue in his wide green eyes but concern played in his knit eyebrows.

"I can tell that I have startled you with my words."

"No, please." Alexander corrected him hastily as he sat on the edge of his chair. "Pray continue, I am intrigued."

"You appear more concerned at my mention of _unorthodox_."

"Who isn't?"

"Only those with a title and reputation to uphold, Master Leighton."

A smile cracked on Alexander's face, reflecting a nervous tick which he quickly corrected by leaning back in his chair and revealing a confident tug of his lip.

"Same can be said about a Master not providing or clothing their guest appropriately."

Achilles mirrored Alexander's cockiness, amused by the gutsy defense of Alexander.

"Now, this is an unorthodox banter." Supplied Achilles and both men exchanged a chuckle.

* * *

Meryl had wiped herself down completely, washing every bit of grime on her body and face. The cloth and water had turned murky, but now she looked clean. She even tied her hair up into that bun style that kept her hair out of her face. She wore that linen dress, switched to her boots and sat down on her chair to read the letter.

_March 31__st__, 1774_

_My dearest Miss Briar: _

_By the time you receive this letter I shall be on the next ship to New York. Excuse the brevity of this letter. I found a few minutes to spare to write you this letter before it is sent off to the colonies. _

_Oh darling, I am excited to see you again. I cannot wait. The past 3 months were dreadfully long and arduous. With the rising tension and friction in the North American colonies which is spreading like witchcraft to the other colonies, the tea trading is growing into a precarious business. I rather spend hours conversing and staring at your beautiful visage than listening to the squabbles of my business partners… Imagining your smiles, your mannerisms and feisty words has brought me joy, amusement and kept my sanity in place these past months._

_After being away from you for so long I cannot imagine my life without you. __I intend to wed you and make you mine._

Meryl stopped reading when her heart almost gave out. Even though that bastard had lined through the last sentence, she could still read it as clear as day as if he left it there to taunt her. _That son of a bitch._

_Master Davenport will provide me a ship, commanded by Captain Faulkner, to ferry me from New York to the Davenport manor and I shall stay a day or two. _

_I cannot wait to see you my love._

_Yours with much esteem,_

_Alexander Leighton_

Meryl laid the letter down and leaned back into the seat. She took a deep breath to still her heart that was beating very furiously. That _bastard_ is making her heart race much like the _other idiot_. A flush of blush passed over cheeks when her body brought her back to the intimate moment she shared with Connor. She could still feel his hot breath tickling the crook of her neck and his lips burning that sensitive skin.

She jumped up and walked over to her bed to stuff the letter underneath the mattress.

"_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_" she cursed to herself.

She stood in front of the mirror and took a few deep breaths and made some little adjustments to her dress and hair. She was ready to go downstairs and face the hit squad.

* * *

**To be continued once I get my life together T.T**


	31. Chapter Thirty

**To celebrate that I am starting a new semester and my last one as a college student, here ya go another chapter! Things are getting hot, HAAAAAWT. So, hold on tight! And enjoy the show!**

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

**~ More truth is shared in the shadow than in broad day light ~**

Meryl did not have the courage to enter Achilles' study as she heard the laughter and chatter of both men. They were deep inside the room and she couldn't make out the details of the conversation but she could tell it was pleasant from the tone of their voices.

She stood frozen next to the doorway with her palm planted against the wall for support. She didn't want to face Alexander's judgmental eyes. How often in her life did she encounter a similar situation? Too often. The looks of pity coming from a broken household, the death of her adoptive grandparents, the looks of doubt and judgement when applying for the Marine Corps… Her life has always been about fighting the current, walking upstream while carrying a boulder on her shoulder. Maybe she was Sisyphus, the former king of Ephyra from the Greek mythology who was punished with rolling a large boulder up the hill and have it roll back down, except, her boulder hasn't dropped yet.

The entrance door suddenly opened and in came Connor with a traveling chest resting on top of his shoulder and a bag under his other arm. His eyes met Meryl and both momentarily stopped moving until loud footsteps erupted from Achilles' study.

"Oh Connor! I must apologize!" expressed Alexander as he walked over, but was surprised to meet Meryl hiding in the hallway. "Oh! Miss Briar! We were waiting for you."

Meryl gave him a nervous smile and lowered her eyes.

"Connor, I must apologize for my behavior," Alexander quickly returned his attention to Connor, "I hope you can forgive me and I can make it right to you."

Alexander extended his hand to Connor. Connor surveyed Alexander's hand then his face with his usual stern frown, debating whether he should shake his hand. Then grudgingly he placed the chest on the floor and quickly shook his hand to make peace. Alexander's face brightened. Then Alexander focused his attention on Meryl and extended his arm.

"Miss Briar, will you join us for tea?"

Meryl felt outright uncomfortable. She was dealing with two opposite pressures that were pulling her apart, the first one belonging to Connor whose eyes were searing through her body and the other Alexander's waiting arm and smiling face. She found herself rooted in the spot, the entire situation created so much discomfort that finally the universe decided to give her a shove in a particular direction.

"Mr. Leighton, I will place your belongings in your room." Connor announced and left for the stairs without waiting for Alexander's approval.

Meryl gasped when Alexander grabbed her hand and placed it on his forearm.

"Are you all right, Miss Briar?" he inquired in soft voice, his eyes following the disappearing figure of Connor.

"Nothing a tea and something sweet could fix." She gave another nervous smile.

"Anything for you, my love." He whispered and kissed the back of her hand while maintaining eye contact with her.

Meryl's heart skipped a beat.

"Ingrid, can we have another serving of tea and pie for Miss Briar." Called out Alexander.

Ingrid came out of the kitchen wiping her hands in her apron.

"Right away, Master Leighton." She returned back in the kitchen.

Alexander led Meryl into the room and to a seat next to his, of course. All this time Achilles was watching them in silence with a particular flicker in his eyes that seem to indicate amusement and intrigue. Meryl could tell he was getting some kind of entertainment, especially when the familiar lumbering footsteps were approaching Achilles' study again.

Connor entered the room, taking Meryl's breath away with his determined but fluid steps with the seamless clanking of his hatchet and pistol accompanying his every movement. He stood apart from the rest.

"Do you still require my service? I have matters to attend in the Homestead." Connor asked Achilles, his eyes focused only on him and ignoring the rest.

"You are dismissed; however, I wish to you join us for dinner later tonight." Achilles expressed with that flicker in his eyes that spelled enjoyment and mischief.

Meryl could tell Achilles wanted to witness and delight in the awkward tension between her, Connor and Alexander. Even Connor could read the amusement in the old man's face which he responded by tightening his jaw. Alexander cleared his throat.

"Connor, I insist you join, I hear that tonight the cook will prepare a delectable dish using… Miss Briar's freshly caught hare."

Maybe she was overthinking it or maybe not, she swore he pronounced her name with a weird intonation and pause that just made _everything _billion times more uncomfortable than they should be.

Meryl dared to look at Connor and he briefly gave her eye contact to acknowledge her presence and he looked back at Alexander then Achilles. He sighed and folded his arms behind his back.

"What time?"

"7 o'clock."

Connor gave a nod, turned around and left the study and exited the manor. Now for the next 3 hours Meryl was left with Alexander and Achilles…

* * *

It was already 2 hours into the 3 hours. In those two hours not once was the topic breached about Meryl's choice of attires from early today or that she went hunting. The conversation was mostly about the U.K and its current state and what Alexander was doing between January and May. In fact, these two men were so engrossed in their conversation that that only rarely did they consult Meryl's opinion. And whenever she had to give her two cents, her opinion was more muted and neutral than usual as to avoid further confrontation and awkwardness. Alexander certainly noticed as he a few times tried in vain to coax a proper reaction out of her. She decided to remain aloof. She actually didn't mind it because it allowed her to ease her nerves, relax and also educate herself on the current affairs of the 18th century.

However, finally the conversation came to an end and Achilles drew her attention.

"Miss Briar, I hope you don't mind, but I have some important business matters to discuss with Master Leighton…"

Meryl promptly stood up, almost too eagerly.

"Sure, no problem, I will be upstairs in my room." She left the room maybe a little too hastily and made her way up the stairs and to her room.

When her bedroom door closed behind her, she leaned against it and released a long drawn sigh. She was in such a weird state of mind, almost like an awkward teenage phase where she was insecure and in doubt of herself. She was in that stupid and infernal bubble again. She was sure that Alexander noticed the change, but it was in response to how he reacted to her earlier today.

Then it struck her.

Why is she giving a fuck what he thinks about her?

She tightened her fists. If he can't deal with her true self then he will have to move along! She will not sacrifice her comfort to impress or please anyone!

Finally, old Meryl's fire had returned and she felt her confidence returning, only slowly.

* * *

Meryl was led to the dining room and seated on the right side of Achilles while Alexander was seated across on Achilles' left. Wine was poured and Meryl was the first to sip from her glass.

"Hasty aren't we?" noted Alexander with a chuckle.

Meryl narrowed her eyes.

"Well after being judged that hard, who wouldn't." she raised her glass with a forced smile and took another swig.

Before Alexander could counter the front door opened and the lumbering steps of Connor approached the dining room. He appeared at the doorway and peeled off his heavy-duty coat and draped it over an empty seat. Meryl just realized that they plated the seat next to hers.

_Fuck! These mofos were conspiring against her!_

She could almost feel Achilles' amusement seeping out of his body. They placed Connor next to her on purpose!

"Thank you for joining us, Connor." Achilles supplied and proceeded to raise his glass, "Let us eat."

Ingrid and Hanna brought in the dishes containing the roasted hare propped up and displayed. Chopped sautéed potatoes, some carrots cooked in salt and butter, freshly baked bread, gravy and mixed berry pie that was placed at the far end of the table was brought in shortly after.

Meryl always forgot how gamy and earthy hare tasted and preferred to shoot her tongue than eat anymore, but she had to be all refined now. Thank God for gravy! She doused that shit, so that the buttery and creamy flavor would cancel the gaminess. She would kill for a burger or some halal food right now.

"What a delectable piece of hare…" noted Alexander as he held his fork, studying the darkened meat and his eyes flickered over to Meryl "And from an unexpected source…"

"I'm glad you like it, they were very tricky to catch, but luckily I had a great _companion_ who helped me hunt them." Meryl kept up a civil behavior, despite feeling the need to throw her plate at Alexander's face.

"Companion?" Alexander chimed which made Meryl smile with confidence as he fell for her bait.

"Yup."

She saw a mix of relief and concern in his face.

"Who may I ask?" he continued to inquire.

"Does it matter?"

"You have emphasized _companion _for a reason Miss Briar, you have my full attention now, so speak." Alexander asserted in an unexpectedly terse tone which made Meryl chuckle.

"Wow, just wow." She sipped her wine as she encountered Alexander's confident green eyes. "Somebody thinks highly of himself."

"She went hunting with her wolf." Connor supplied in a dead pan voice without looking at Meryl or Alexander as he worked himself through the sauteed vegetables.

Meryl glared daggers at him and Alexander laughed out loud.

"So this is Connor's infamous candor."

"Useful when the situation calls for it." Added Achilles with a chuckle, but cleared his throat "But, these hares are splendid Miss Briar, good catch."

Despite the annoyance she smiled at Achilles in gratitude who seems to be the only being in the room appreciative of her help.

"Thank you, Achilles…"

With a content smile to herself she resumed cutting through her pieces of hare. Achilles inadvertently brought the hammer down by testifying her helpfulness in the Davenport manor. She didn't look in Alexander's direction but she felt his eyes resting on her while Connor was deeply in commune with the meal in front of him. She could tell he restrained his voracious appetite by keeping proper posture and eating slowly and deliberately. In general, it always seemed he was eating his last meal, as if there was a possibility that he would never eat a meal again.

Finally, she raised her eyes over to Alexander who also had returned his attention to the food in front of him. The way he ate, from the way his fingers held the utensils to how he dabbed the napkin against his mouth and kept his posture, he was enjoying his meal with leisure and elegance that boggled Meryl's mind. There was something mildly dainty but very refined in the way he ate. He was showing off or impressing others with his manners and behavior, but also looked incredibly second nature to his overall character while for Connor it took effort and practice. The thought that Achilles might have smacked Connor with his cane to correct his posture and behavior when they practiced eating etiquette made her grin.

"Miss Briar," Alexander's crisp voice rang through her thoughts and she looked up from her meal to face his inquisitive face. "Where have you learned to hunt?"

A small smile crept up her face.

"I learned from our master tracker and hunter, Connor."

"Oh?"

"Indeed, Connor is a talented tracker and hunter." Supplied Achilles, "He has provided us not only safety from bears but also the finest meat from the forest."

Connor raised his eyes to acknowledge the compliment but did not show any further reaction other than keeping a straight face.

"Speaking of bear," Meryl chimed in and looked over at Connor, "I found a brown bear as I cut through the forest to gut the hares, it was roaming around that one stream – I think it's the one that passes through Miriam's hut."

Connor gave her his full attention.

"How big?"

"I'm thinking a mama bear, maybe, since it's Spring. Massive thing, I was able to leave before it arrived, I only saw the big back as I threw the guts on the shore."

"You just encountered a brown bear? When?!" Alexander intervened with disbelief and concern tightening his voice.

"I, uhh, actually just when we met today on the path - that was why I was out of breath." She stammered and chuckled, forgetting for a split second that he was in the room with them.

Alexander placed his utensils down on the plate and cleared his throat, eyeing Meryl.

"May I inquire what other…skills you possess?"

"Uhh…" Meryl could barely utter a word, she wasn't sure if he was genuinely curious, sizing her up or royal pissed off with that question.

His green eyes were definitely inquisitive but also grave like he was scrutinizing her.

"I was raised to survive and to adapt." Meryl stated very bluntly, boiling down the essence of her life so far, "And I honestly believe knowing how to survive in nature and beyond is essential."

Looking at Alexander's facial expression and his eyes was like watching the weather change from a sunny clear blue sky to a dull overcast day with a chance of a thunderstorm.

"And living in the frontier requires a person regardless of their sex to adapt and survive, I am sure you are familiar with that, Mr. Leighton." She added quickly to justify her answer.

"Yes, quite…" his tone was aloof and she didn't like that.

Meryl sighed.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this, but unfortunately I feel the most at peace when I am clothed like that."

She held Alexander's gaze with her words. It seemed they reverberated in his being as he quickly looked away, appearing in thought.

"But she will conform when it calls for it." Achilles noted and eyed Meryl, "Isn't that right, Miss Briar?"

Meryl raised her eyebrow in his direction but when she found Alexander's attention back at her combined with Achilles' ever growing stern face – she realized she had to alter her statement. Now, she finally received confirmation that there was a push for her to be with Alexander or it was simply something about reputation and conforming to societal norms.

"Worry not, I can conform as you can see." She replied with an aloof smile and indicated with her hands to her dress and sitting at the table, "I am malleable, after all."

She hated the words that came out of her mouth. Yes, she was malleable to a reasonable extent, but not to the point of erasing her identity. Now the problem is she openly declared that there is room for people to change her if they didn't like her. It was high school all over again, almost a microcosm of society. The desperation to fit in with the so-called cool kids to escape the status of a social reject, has come back again to haunt her. It made her realize rather than improving on herself and not assuming or faking another identity she was returning to her old ways and pretending to be something else. Moreover, in part she felt 18th century America was doing that to her.

She felt an unpleasant sting in her heart and took a deep, long drawn sip of her wine to dull the pain. Her deepest fear emerged, was she ever going to return to the 21st century?

* * *

Kazuma didn't return that night. Not even after his food bowl filled with _seared _hare was intentionally placed outside at the kitchen back door. Meryl was at her favorite look-out spot, the infamous place where Alexander approached her after the dinner party eons ago. It was once again around the same time, 8ish at night where the stars were also becoming clearer and more prominent as the pink sky was being devoured by the dark blue sky. A wooden fence had been put up on the edge of that cliff and even two wooden chairs had been placed there more recently. Probably Ingrid, Marie and Hannah enjoyed that spot as well. Who wouldn't anyway? Gorgeous view out into the Atlantic Ocean, clear sky, smell of salt water and the cool air from the ocean wafting against one's face – perfect and fucking romantic.

Meryl sighed deeply. Her thoughts lingered on her mischievous wolf.

"That's it, he must be _fucking_." She declared out loud, "He would never skip dinner for anything."

"I am assuming that you are speaking of your pet wolf and not another man?"

Meryl almost lunged over the fence in startle.

"Will you stop surprising me like that?" she exclaimed as she placed her palm on her racing heart.

That suave chuckle entranced her. Alexander had left his hat and knee length coat inside and was dressed in his dark blue vest coat to offset the almost white breeches and a starkly white shirt. His brown auburn locks were slicked back revealing more of chiseled cheeks and deep set eyes. She realized she had been staring at him long enough when he suddenly showed her a bottle of wine and two wine glasses.

"A present to forgive my impertinence of earlier." he expressed in earnest, his eyes were narrowed with guilt.

Meryl looked at his face and then the bottle.

"May I join you?" he asked gingerly.

She looked at him but returned her gaze to the view in front of her. There was an empty chair beside hers. Alexander understood her silence as a tacit acceptance although he still remained uneasy as Meryl did not openly welcome him.

They sat down in silence next to each other for a few minutes until she heard Alexander uncork the wine and pour its contents into two glasses. Meryl watched him and then he looked up handing her a glass which she hesitantly accepted. She returned her gaze to the view of the darkening ocean.

"Did it really surprise you…to see me like this?" she asked him, her voice coming out weaker and fragile than expected while her eyes were lowered to the swirling contents of the wine glass.

Alexander returned a sigh, also looking ahead to the ocean.

"I should not have been startled, especially since you are from the colonies, err, the frontier…" he admitted and cleared his throat as if to correct himself, "I should know better."

"Do you realize how you made feel?"

"I-

-You looked at me like I was an abomination!" she interrupted him with an intensity that she didn't expect and stood up almost spilling the wine all over herself. "I am sorry I don't live up to your standards of these stuffy _sophisticated women_ who knit, play the piano and sip tea the whole day! _I am not one of them_! If that is what you want of me, then I fear your efforts are wasted."

Alexander looked at her, surprised of her outburst but also startled. The reality in his eyes began to weigh on her and it triggered an emotional response from her: _tears_. The sign of her weakness, the sign of her womanhood showing.

Tears were brimming in her eyes. Alexander by instinct stood up when he saw a tear roll down from her cheek. She could tell he was holding back from hugging her as he kept his arms firmly down his sides.

"I am afraid what would happen if you see _all of me_, every inch of me – would you still accept me?"

"What do you mean?" he spluttered and immediately realized the error when she backed away from him, tears spilling freely. "I-I didn't-

"So, it is a problem then... I should have known." She smiled to herself, hiding the pain, "Reputation matters more in this world…"

"_Blast the reputation_!" he exclaimed suddenly and seized her hand with a passion that startled her, "I have risked my reputation to start my tea trading operations in this uncivilized colony while I could have enjoyed the comfort of His Majesty's court until I wither and die! But here I am, I built my own reputation as an entrepreneur, a master of my own destiny, I could care less what others think of me!"

She saw his body trembling from his passion. He had unleashed an unresolved and bitter issue. His green eyes were wide and almost vibrating with a fire of emotions. Meryl shook off his hand and backed away again.

"Alex, don't lie to me." She refuted her body beginning to tremble, "Reputation matters especially with your background and your day-to-day activities! Your society would never accept me if they knew what I was and your business would fail because of me!"

"Then I will rebuild it again!" he declared feverishly, "Dash the society and the reputation! My love for you is the only thing that matters!"

Meryl shook her head hard and the blow of his words made her stagger and grab her head.

"Please, Alex, stop it! You would never love somebody like me!" she cried and he tried to embrace her but she backed away again. "You are too good, too refined and I am scarred, damaged beyond repair. Please, don't give me hope, it hurts."

His chest heaved hard, his eyes were narrow with anguish and he suddenly engulfed her in a tight embrace, holding her very close to him with his hand cradling the back of her head.

"I never was _good,_ Miss Briar. God would banish me to the depths of hell for all of my sins," he whispered hard in her ear. "I implore you not to disregard my affection for you…I can heal you, I can care for you and make your pain go away."

He cupped her cheeks and Meryl's tears kept flowing.

"You would be disgusted with me."

"Meryl, you would feel the same towards me."

She grabbed his hands and eased them off her face.

"No, don't say that. I have _literal_ scars all over my body and tattoos on my back and shoulders!"

Meryl suddenly turned around, loosened her dress and pulled it over her head so that she was in her long undershirt/nightgown and her stay.

"Meryl, what are you doing!" implored Alexander in shock, attempting to grab her dress that she had discarded to desperately cover her in the open. "Put your dress back on at once!"

She ignored him, grappling with his attempts to cover her. She loosened the string of the front of her undershirt so that she could expose her shoulders. When she did, he stopped in his movements. He even withdrew his arms and stepped back. It appeared that he even held his breath.

"You see…this is who I am under all these clothes. I have these tattoos and scars on my stomach, back, legs and other places…"

In the tense silence, the cool air stung her trembling shoulders like needles. The dark ink markings gleamed against her perspiring pearlescent skin.

Meryl gasped when his arms engulfed her from behind in a tight embrace as he trailed hot kisses along her exposed shoulders.

"I do not care!" he whispered between kisses "Scars or imperfections, nothing will stop me from yearning for you and your body!"

He spun her around and cupped her cheeks, his face hovering close to hers while piercing her eyes with his wide fiery green eyes

"I swear to cherish you, love you and protect you with my life." He declared with unwavering conviction that left Meryl dumbfounded.

He suddenly crushed his lips on hers. There was a strong internal battle in her, yelling at her to stop and tear away from him, but she just wanted even for a split second to feel accepted and loved. Ultimately she wanted to enjoy the comfort and security in man's embrace. It had been nowadays a luxury or rarity for her to let her guard down and allow a man to invade that space or wall she had erected years ago. It was weak, yes, she knows she is stronger than that, but… deep down she is still human with the human desire to be wanted, loved and needed.

Connor was on her mind too. In her mind's eyes she could see almost a film reel of all his mannerisms and behaviors playing in front of her. Seeing his broad back walking in front of her, his weapons clanking at every move and his stoic, still eyes watching her carefully. Her heart bled, her conscience scolded her but she found no energy to fight back. Her body would not fight her and even her mind began to give in to the thrill, the sweetness of the kiss.

Was it wrong to enjoy a man's embrace when he was so willing to give it?

Meryl's arms snaked up his back, showing that she was accepting him in her intimate space. Alexander sighed in the kiss and his hands were safely secured around her body.

_Crack._

Their attention spun to the source of the sound somewhere deep in a forested area, interrupting their kiss while still in each other's arms. Their pants filled the tense and alarmed silence. Alexander had even ushered her behind him, his eyes focused on the source ready to defend if the situation arose. However, after a minute or so nothing happened, but Alexander did not let his guard down as he grabbed her hand.

"That bear that you encountered might be roaming the forest. Let us retire to the manor." He declared, his eyes still eyeing the forest.

Meryl did not have the time to respond as he had urgently ushered her towards the kitchen back door, threw her dress back on and entered the building with her.

* * *

The moment the kitchen back door was closed, silence fell again. A dark figure approached from the shadow of the forest until the moon light illuminated its features. Strong tanned hands rested against the tree trunk and creamy brown eyes stared aloof at the spot that Alexander and Meryl were just a moment ago.

Connor's entire figure was finally exposed to the moon. He appeared focused but at the same time absent from everything like he was zoned out.

His resting hand suddenly lost all strength, losing the balance he needed to remain standing, but he quickly regained his footing and took a few deep steady breaths closing his eyes briefly to center himself.

He corrected his footing, stabilizing himself and rested his hand on the tree trunk again but this time gripping it harder than he should. The rough bark pressing into the palm of his finger less gloves distracted him from his internal chaos that threatened to explode from his body and destroy his environment.

His body did not want to move towards the manor and for once his mind too agreed that it would be a terrible idea.

And why did he do this to himself?

He could have been on the next ship to Boston or New York tracking down his father, but for some reason he kept shadowing her, stalking her like a prey. He couldn't help himself but watch her and he wasn't sure why. From a logical perspective he was hoping that she would finally reveal her true colors and prove his gnawing suspicion right that she was a spy for the Templars…

But his irrational, instinctual or even animalistic side was waiting in the shadow, studying the opportune time to strike and overpower her when she was at her weakest.

He couldn't deny it anymore as it was affecting him, he wanted her. Not just her body but all of her. Her smiles, her flirty ways, her big grey eyes that stare at him in awe as he walks into the room. He has always been aware of the way her eyes roam all over him and it almost drove him crazy with want.

He wanted his lips to kiss her shoulders, he wanted his hands to touch her body, he wanted to kiss her hard, lick, nibble every inch of her body and take her under him and watch and listen as she writhes with pleasure under his body.

How many times at night when he lay awake in bed or walked passed her room did his thoughts stray to the exact feelings he felt right now? Too much to count and it got worse especially after the mission when he held her and kissed her shoulder.

He had caught a glimpse of how she would react to his touches and kisses and it almost pushed him to the edge and now fuels his imagination.

It angered him how much his body reacted to her. He felt weak and helpless to it. It took time for him to unwind and to turn off. To his shame he had to personally relieve these needs otherwise he would have sneaked into her room a long time ago. Did she even he know how much she was driving him mad with desire?

He took a few deep breaths; the lust was slowly subsiding but a jealous anger took over instead. Alexander touching Meryl made his clenched fists itch. He took another steadying breath. He gathered from Meryl's reception towards Alexander that she enjoyed men who were assertive.

Maybe it was time for him to strike before it was too late.

Connor withdrew his arm from the tree and stepped backwards until his entire figure disappeared in the shadow of the forest and into the darkness of the night.

13


	32. Chapter Thirty One

**I am so sorry for making you all wait...I know it's been a while. The reality is graduating from college is no joke. I thought I would know what I want and do with my life. Right now I am going through a lot of doubt, maybe an identity crisis too...I've been a student for so long and that's the only thing I know that I am a good at, but now...I am not sure anymore. **

**Great thing is I am visiting my family that I haven't seen in years ever since my daughter was 1.5 years old and now she's 4.5 years old... Maybe I will get some inspiration and a long needed recharging.**

**Thank you all for sticking with me since the beginning. I will try my hardest to churn out more chapters and find the spark that I had at the beginning of writing this fanfic. Right now and for a while, inspiration has been very stagnant. But rest assured I PROMISE I will finish this fanfic! It has been a very illuminating experience. So, I cannot stress enough that your input and support is the reason why I am writing this story.**

**Anyway, enjoy this very long chapter. I love you all.**

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY ONE**

**~ When the fire of duty burns, happiness cannot exist ~**

"Good night, my love." Alexander whispered as he took Meryl's hand and brought it to his lips. "I will see you tomorrow at breakfast."

Meryl gawked at his dashing charm as he gave her a last smile as he headed the opposite direction down the hall to his room.

This was getting too dangerous for her liking. His magnetism made her very uneasy but also very frustrated with herself. Deep down she was starved for love and attention. He was ticking off all the boxes and giving all of that freely and it didn't matter whether it was fake or genuine, because it gratified her for the time being. It was pitiful and she felt ashamed.

She told herself countless times to be careful of Alexander. He was too good to be true. His kind were usually susceptible to toying with feelings or having some serious emotional baggage that could destroy the relationship with the slightest trigger. She was waiting for him to back stab her and hurt her and tell her "it was all a joke".

But there he was, still chasing, still hoping that she would consent to marry him. His eyes lighting up and softening in her presence.

In part she had hoped that by baring her tattoos to him it would turn him off, but instead he was for the next 2 hours at her side in the dining room, chatting with her, keeping her glass and tea cup filled. He was more attentive and gentler than usual. His mischievous streak and glint was absent as if he knew it would be poor taste to tease her. She appreciated that gesture.

However, Meryl was tired. She had unleashed some deep insecurities that had been simmering in her for a long time.

But God, if he knew she was a 21st century person, it would destroy everything…

Meryl was determined to keep Achilles as the only person to know her secret and she pledged herself to keep it that way even under the duress of torture.

* * *

Meryl woke up feeling lousy and groggy. The odd tea and liquor combination made her feel very weird and she had a mild headache. She needed some food ASAP. She sat up and looked around and sighed. Kazuma was not here. She had forgotten that he was out, getting some ass right and left and didn't bother to come back.

She threw on her casual gear and gunned for the kitchen. She realized it was 8 AM and Marie was up early and meal prepping. Meryl asked for some tea and decided to head out and for some reason she was drawn to her usual chill-out spot over the cliff. But this time, she chose to sit at the very edge, allowing her legs to dangle while the wooden fence served as a brace to prevent her from falling forward. The wooden panel conveniently covered her chest area so that she could rest her elbow on top while she cushioned her chin on top of her crossed arms as she sipped on her tea cup.

The salty ocean breeze wafted over her face and she took a deep breath then sipped on her tea with a content sigh.

Her thoughts were in a swirl and clouded her mind for a little. She finished her tea and lay back with her eyes fixed to the cool morning sky that still needed more warming from the sun.

Suddenly, she felt some vibration in the ground, she didn't even bother sitting up and looking back, rather she bent her head back further and saw the upside-down figure of Alexander approaching.

"Lying on the ground, aren't we? So becoming of a woman."

"A woman, where?" Meryl countered back placing her hand over her forehead and pretending to look in the distance for the said "woman".

Alexander chuckled and then decided to join her side replicating what she did.

"Comfortable with a slight chance of falling to our death – how thrilling." He supplied.

"It gives an edge that is exciting."

"I agree." He concurred and he folded his arms behind his head and sighed. "Did you sleep well."

"Sorta, you?" she asked without looking at him, keeping her gaze focused to the sky.

He gave a dismissive snort. Meryl grinned in his direction and returned her attention back to the sky.

"I…" Alexander cleared his throat with some hesitance in his voice "I thought about you all night."

Meryl's heart skipped a beat but she didn't allow herself to be affected.

"Well, I didn't sleep well either and I have a strange liquor and tea hang-over now…"

Alexander chuckled.

A calming silence fell on the pair. The rustling of the trees, the crashing of the waves, the scrambling and calls of the forest critters filled the silence.

"Meryl," he cleared his throat which drew her attention, she realized their faces were very close, "I wish to invite you to my home in Boston."

"Huh?" Meryl spluttered.

Alexander's face showed unease even nervousness at her response and he quickly backtracked on his words.

"If you ever wish to visit Boston, of course, you are always welcome to stay at my home."

"You mean, right now?" she suddenly sat up which made him sit up too. "As in you want me to come with you right now?"

Alexander was somewhat thrown off by her blunt statement that it took him a moment to respond.

"If…if it is possible."

The possibilities of seeing the city, that niche upper class life and good food, flooded her mind and she beamed despite how conflicted she felt about it.

"_YES!_ Why not!"

Alexander released his breath as if he held on to it in anticipation of her answer.

"Are you certain?" he asked, his voice stammered.

"Look, you try being stuck in this area for 6 months without going crazy."

Alexander chuckled, the tension gone from his facial muscles and voice. He looked so relieved.

"Did you ask Achilles about this?"

"I may have touched upon the possibility."

"Let's go and talk to Achilles and hope he is okay with it."

Meryl jumped to her feet and Alexander got up too. They were about to head back through the kitchen door when Meryl suddenly grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket. He turned his head back.

"I have three conditions." She indicated with her fingers and kept a serious expression.

Alexander turned his full attention to her, offering her a smug face.

"I have expected as much from you."

"Psh! 1st: My own room."

"Of course."

"Second, no _nightly_ visits to my room."

"I am vexed that you expect me to treat you this way."

"Thirdly, independence as a woman. I will not be caged up and put on display."

Alexander gave a confident chuckle.

"I have conditions that you must meet as well." He declared and stood his ground which Meryl chose to mirror as well.

"Go on."

"Firstly, you will have your room, but you will live in my house. You will have to dress and act the part."

"That is not problem, Alexander."

"Secondly, while you are my guest, you are a woman, expect my peers to assume that we are engaged as the presence of a woman in a bachelor's house is frowned upon."

"You want me to pretend to be engaged with you?! Alex, this is a little…much, especially when I am not ready."

"Prepared or not, we will be at the heart of the town's gossip."

Meryl was now feeling a little bit apprehensive about the trip and Alexander saw it in her face.

"Thirdly, you are independent and I encourage you to shop and explore Boston to your hearts content, but I have to accompany you wherever you go."

"Why?"

"Because I am a gentleman and who will carry all your bags?"

Meryl stroke her chin and then nodded with approval.

"You thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Since early this year." He admitted with a sly grin which Meryl returned with a playful defiance in her eyes.

"Expect some "hurdles" or disagreements on the way, Mr. Leighton, I can be quite demanding."

"I expected as much, hence my conditions."

"Ohhh, I can see those green eyes and that brain plotting stuff and I won't fall for it." Meryl added in a sing-songy voice as they resumed their walk back to the rear entrance.

* * *

"Oi Connor!" a voice called out over the creaking of floorboards as a cannon was being rolled over to the other side of the ship.

The Aquilla had just returned from a lengthy travel from Charleston in South Carolina with a few stops along the way. She was docked at her usual spot in the inlet below the Davenport manor.

Connor's head shot up from behind some cargo that he was attempting to unfasten. A younger sailor approached him who was on the lanky and lightweight side whose face was pale and under eyes darkened, almost hollowed out. He was maybe between 15~17 years old. His current state reminded Connor of his early but painful days of growing his sea legs.

The kid stopped short in front of him as if the nervousness suddenly paralyzed his body especially after realizing how much Connor towered over him.

"Uhh, sir." The boy lowered his voice and swallowed uncomfortably.

His eyes briefly scanned his surroundings.

"Do you know a mister Leighton?"

Connor's body stiffened a little.

"Yes." Replied curtly, "What is the matter?"

"I – I was instructed to hand an urgent note to a Master Leighton in Boston harbor."

Connor's eyebrows narrowed.

The boy handed him the note and ran off before Connor could ask him more questions. Connor sighed.

He looked at the note which was an envelope with a red wax seal on the back with Leighton's code of arms imprinted on it.

Connor hissed under his breath. He couldn't open the letter without creating any suspicion, he gave a dull sigh and dutifully made his way back to the manor.

* * *

Meryl and Alexander were sitting in each other's company at the dining table. Their tea cups and utensils clinked as they ate, sipped, chatted and laughed in each other's presence. It was as if they were in their own world. The spring morning sun shone into the dining room. A window was left open. The chirping of the birds filled the room with an air that was both relaxing and exciting.

Achilles made an appearance hobbling into the room.

"Good morning to you both, may I join you?"

"Good morning Achilles!" greeted Meryl with a beaming smile.

"Please join us, Master Davenport." Alexander even got up and allowed Achilles to take his seat at the head of the table.

"You two are in a very jovial mood, may I inquire the cause?"

Alexander and Meryl exchanged a gaze which made Meryl blush a little and she diverted her attention to Achilles.

"I have extended Miss Briar an invitation to visit my home in Boston." Said Alexander with a smile with his eyes flickering over at Meryl.

"Oh?" Achilles intoned with intrigue and looked over at Meryl, studying her briefly, "And has Miss Briar accepted the invitation?"

"Yes!" Blurted Meryl which earned a chuckle from Alexander and she cleared her throat "Yes. Yes I did. I think…a change of scenery would do some good."

She finally saw the glint of amusement in Achilles' eyes but he quickly replaced the glint with his usual calming expression that was often neutral but this time he seemed genuinely happy.

"I wanted to get your approval before making the final arrangements, as she is under your care." Added Alexander.

Achilles chortled, the corner of his lip tugging into a grin.

"While she is under my roof, Master Leighton, I believe Miss Briar is capable of making her own decisions." He stated, offering Meryl a gaze of approval then returning his attention to Alexander. "If she accepts your invitation then I have no power to stop her."

Alexander nodded politely and chuckled which removed the unease in his entire demeanor.

Meryl almost squealed with delight, but held it together for appearance's sake. She was about to say something when the front door opened and lumbering footsteps creaked against the floorboards.

Connor emerged at the doorway of the dining room and stepped in. Meryl's heart clenched. He utterly ignored her and focused his attention on Alexander.

"This letter was given to one of the dock hands in Boston." Connor said as he gave the envelop to Alexander.

Alexander received the letter, his face still remaining jovial. He flipped the letter over, undid the seal and pulled the note out.

As his eyes began to scan the letter, the warmth was sucked out of his entire being and even some pallor settled in his face. His dark brows furrowed, his eyes narrowed and he appeared to be holding his breath. Then in his tense stillness he folded the letter with his eyes momentarily vacantly staring down on his plate in front of him.

"I am afraid I must leave." He uttered in an affected tone that was distant and got up from his chair.

"What? How come?" Meryl spluttered as she too got up.

He looked across the table to her. He tried to smile at her, but failed terribly as his eyes betrayed anxiety and apprehension.

"I have urgent matters to attend, my love. I promise to write you." He addressed her but drew his full attention to Achilles then later to Connor, "Thank you for your hospitality. I am terribly sorry for my abrupt departure. Connor, can you fetch my horse?"

Connor gave him a nod and left the dining room. Alexander followed suit, his luggage had been already brought down earlier today and it was stacked against the wall in the entrance way.

Meryl got up and was as confused as the rest and followed Alexander to the entrance way.

"Leaving so soon, Master Leighton?" Ingrid asked with surprise in her tone.

"Unfortunately," he sighed, "can you arrange my luggage to be delivered to my home address in Boston?"

"Why certainly, sir."

"Thank you." He turned his attention to the door and exited the manor.

It was like Alexander had lost his peripheral vision he didn't even notice Achilles and Meryl as they followed him outside and even partway down the stairs. He mounted his horse with such speed that it looked like he had jumped onto the saddle.

He dipped his hat in the direction of Achilles, Meryl and Connor. Then with a click of his tongue and the stern slam of his heel, the horse took off with a neigh and he jetted off.

Meryl was left in a state of stupor which was replaced with disappointment.

"I am as confused as you are, my dear." Stated Achilles even though the tone of his voice revealed some suspicion. "I would wage it is related to his work."

"No shit." Meryl crossed her arms, her entire behavior changed to reflect her grave face, "Being a tea merchant on the cusp of a revolution – no sane person would be as calm and collected as he usually is."

Achilles eyed her without turning his head.

"I would take care not to throw these words casually around, Miss Briar." He cautioned with his voice lowered as Connor was on the path, staring in the direction of the vanishing figure of Alexander.

"I am merely stating a fact, Achilles." Meryl explained without wavering. "This man will eventually crack and this is only the beginning."

"And you intend to be in the midst of all of it?"

Meryl unconsciously snapped her attention at him, surprised by his words. When she was about to respond, Achilles called out to Connor.

He came up the stairs and stopped a few steps short to look up at both Achilles and Meryl.

"Have you heard that Miss Briar was invited to stay at Master Leighton's home in Boston?"

Connor's body stiffened and he beheld Meryl's gaze, making her squeamish, before returning his gaze to Achilles.

"No."

"Ah yes. A change of scenery would do her some good." Said Achilles in a rather cheerful tone. "And he did propose to her as well, how wonderful. Congratulations, Miss Briar."

"Nothing is finalized, you know." Meryl replied with a nervous smile, avoiding the penetrative and searing gaze of Connor.

Achilles patted her shoulder with a smile.

"Miss Briar, allow an old man to celebrate this momentous event, especially bestowing another joyful memory to the Davenport estate."

Achilles sighed with contentment as he gazed with a pleased expression to the blue sky.

"Ahhh, before I know it I will be a grandfather or god father." Mused Achilles and Meryl almost choked.

"_Excuse me?!_"

Achilles hushed her and patted her shoulder in a calming manner maintaining a grin.

"I am merely pondering, Miss Briar. Though admittedly you can tell a lot about a man's gaze, especially Master Leighton's."

Meryl's face turned beet red.

"Consider yourself fortunate, Miss Briar. Now what was I – oh yes! Connor."

Meryl's heart sank deeper as if she had forgotten that Connor had been listening to the entire conversation.

"As Master Leighton left in a hurry, when the time comes, I will have to ask you to accompany Miss Briar safely to Boston."

"As you wish." Connor gave a mechanical response.

Achilles turned around and called for Ingrid. She came to him and helped him up the stairs and into the manor.

"Get me my best wine and let us feast to Meryl and Master Leighton's engagement!"

"_Hey_, hey, come on now! I said it wasn't even finalized yet!" Meryl growled at them but her reaction did not reach them as Ingrid and Achilles had already entered the manor.

"_Fuck!_" she cursed and rubbed her eyes with exasperation.

"Congratulations." Connor uttered and she groaned.

"God damn it! Not you too! It isn't finalized! I didn't say yes!"

"You are visiting an unmarried man's home."

"I am aware of that."

"The only women that are invited to a bachelor's home are either relatives, his future wife or-

-a whore, yes?" she exclaimed.

Connor's lips grew tight and Meryl threw him a dirty look, but then her features softened into a neutral but ironic one.

"Well I am definitely a "whore" to the standards of his peers. I probably slept with more men than he has with women…"

When these words exited her mouth she suddenly felt seized by self-consciousness and embarrassment and she couldn't look at Connor.

"Uh, I think I will head back inside…" she supplied with exasperation and turned around.

However, Connor grabbed her hand prompting her to freeze in place.

"Don't…" he barely uttered his breath.

She looked back at him. Her heart caught in her throat.

There she saw that fire in his eyes, framed by his dark brows. His jaw was locked and his chest was rising with every breath as if he was trying to hold himself back from exploding. His hand gripped hers firmly. Meryl kept a grave composure and remained still, not allowing his hand and his demeanor to affect her. She wasn't playing dumb, she knew what he was implying but she wanted to hear from his mouth.

"_Don't_, what, Connor?" her voice was soft and she gazed at him.

His wide eyes beheld her while his chest heaved slowly with every breath.

"Don't go."

Meryl diverted her eyes, a small smile crept into her face.

"Why does it matter to you?" she replied as she looked at him. "There is nothing holding me here."

She felt an involuntary pulsing grip from Connor and he moved closer to her.

"You have a life here - there is Ingrid, Marie, Hanna, Kaz and Achilles."

It took a moment for her to respond. She averted her eyes and gave a chortle which rippled through her smiling lips. She felt her eyes growing misty.

_She did not want to hear that. Why won't he admit it?_

"What about you?" she bluntly asked.

He could not answer her. The only part of his body that was fearlessly communicating with her was his eyes. They were very intense, it almost made her cry. There was turmoil, a maelstrom of emotions and conflicts that forbade him from openly expressing what he felt.

"I see." She breathed almost losing her voice after studying him. "Then we have nothing more to say to each other."

She yanked her hand from his grip and was about to storm off to the manor when with almost violence he spun her around, grasped her by the forearms with their faces inches hovering in front of each other. Connor's eyes were the most expressive she had ever seen. The unexpectedness startled her while her heart raced hard with anticipation.

He raised his hand and Meryl flinched thinking he was going to hit her, but she gasped softly when she felt the tip of his rough fingers brush her cheek. His lips twitched as his eyes focused on his fingers gently brushing her cheek and then finally he fully cupped her cheek. He released a sharp breath when he gingerly stroked with his thumb the soft skin of her cheek.

Meryl instinctively leaned into his touch which froze him in his movements. She even placed her hand on top of his to even encourage him to touch her further.

He lightly bit his lip and quickly averted his eyes almost embarrassed and even unsure about what he felt and what he saw in Meryl's inviting grey eyes.

"You don't understand…" he breathed. "I…I can't… I…"

Meryl slowly shook her head, her eyes growing teary.

"Yes, you can, yes _we _can." She felt the lump of emotions gathering in her throat and she felt that it was now the right moment to show him how she felt. "You noticed my eyes on you for a while now and you never acted…why?"

There she saw for a split second that cornered animal gaze in his eyes but she grasped his hand firmly and drilled her emotional eyes in his.

"How many times have you stopped in front of my bedroom door, Connor?"

Connor froze still with his eyes wide.

"Connor, your eyes…" It was Meryl's turn now to coax out what she wanted to hear from his mouth, "they always followed me wherever I went… It is not only curiosity, isn't it?"

Connor's body was stiff and he looked like he stopped breathing altogether. His eyes however changed in tone. His eyes glazed over in an attempt to cover his raw feelings. Reason was partially restored but still the rawness of his feelings glimmered through.

"Meryl…you don't understand." He whispered and grasped her by the shoulders firmly while his brows were knit. "I can't…as much as I want to…_I can't_."

A sudden flash of anger seized Meryl and she harshly yanked herself free from his grip.

"_What the fuck does __**I can't**__ mean_?!" she exclaimed, her body shaking. "What is stopping you from _simply_ expressing your feelings! I can't wait, Connor! I need to know if there is a chance or not!"

She huffed hard, but suddenly covered her mouth in shock when she realized what words escaped her mouth. The tears came rolling down her cheeks and she lowered her eyes leaving her vulnerable to Connor's wide eyes.

He stared at her blankly, perplexed and unable to move a muscle.

Meryl hated the silence, it deepened her fears that he didn't want her. A pang of desperation made her lunge forward, grasping him by his collar and pulling his face towards her and crushing her lips against his.

Connor's eyes widened. When he was about to respond to her, she withdrew and turned around to run back to the manor, leaving Connor more bewildered than before.

* * *

Meryl sat by the window of her room, staring out blankly with her mind utterly empty and numb. The skin of her cheeks felt tight from the dried tears. She had turned the chair around, facing away from the fire place and looking towards the window. She could only see the foliage of the trees, some forest and some sky but nothing spectacular. She was so worn out, so devastated that she had utterly checked out.

Hours had passed since she left Connor in a state of confusion. It was midafternoon.

She couldn't believe that he couldn't bring himself to say anything, not even what he felt for her. She _KNEW _he had feelings for her, but there he stood almost deaf and dumb. All these months, the way he looked at her, the way his eyes not only avoided her but searched hers. She knew he itched to touch her, but he held back from acting upon his feelings.

Meryl unconsciously touched her lips, trying to remember the brief moments their lips touched.

Suddenly, a door downstairs burst open slamming against the wall and loud thudded footsteps echoed with a loud and anxious voice calling "_Ratonhnhaké:ton! Ratonhnhaké:ton!_".

Meryl held her breath and immediately bounded out of her room.

Connor's lumbering footsteps headed for the source, but Meryl decided to hide behind the wall that would have exposed her to the anxious person down below in the entrance way of the manor.

"_Kanen'tó:kon? Why are you here? Has something happened?" _Connor's voice was brisk.

The person at the bottom of the stairs paced about anxiously and came to a full stop next to the stairs, where Connor too stood. Meryl caught a glimpse of a tall, tanned and stout man in Native garb with elaborate embroidery on his shoulders made of reds, faded blues and white beads and stitching. He had some feathers in his black hair, a Mohawk hair style with a shaved receding hair line and long braids that cascaded down the front of his ornamental front.

"_William Johnson has returned – with all the money required to buy our land,_"the individual was agitated "_He meets with the elders as we speak! I have begged them to resist. But I fear he shall have his way unless you intervene."_

"_**How is this possible?**_" Connor snapped back at the individual with anger and disbelief "_We destroyed the tea._"

Then Achilles emerged from behind Connor.

"_The Templars are nothing if not resourceful_." Achilles pointed out sternly "_You should have heeded my warning_."

The other individual's voice spoke up, but there was a crack in his tone that was heart wrenching to listen to.

"_**Please**__, you have to stop him_." He begged.

"_**Of course**__!_" Connor immediately agreed and proceeded to the door with the individual, "_Can you tell me where they are meeting?_"

Meryl jumped out of her hiding position, garnering the attention of the Native and Connor.

"Let me help you!" she declared as she ran down the stairs and stopped in front of the two towering Native men whose garbs of different style and color clashed with each other.

The Native gazed at her from head to toe with a suspicious air. Connor moved between the two, extending his palm forward to stop her.

"No, it is too dangerous!" he warned her.

"I can say that to you too!" she countered back.

"_**This**_ is none of your concern, _colonist_!" Connor snapped back at Meryl with a ferocity that stunned her into silence.

He turned around, yanked his other Native friend by the arm and stormed out of the manor.

"Is that the woman who saved the chieftain's son?" inquired the Native who had all this time been observing her intently.

"_Yes that is her_." Connor said grudgingly.

Not another word was exchanged as the Native led Connor in the direction of Johnson Hall.

* * *

Meryl stood still and watched as Connor and his fellow native had taken the remaining horses of the Davenport manor and left.

At first, the desire to go after him was strong but now she felt a numbness settle in the pit of her stomach.

_None of your concern, __**colonist**__._

Is that what she has become now, a mere _colonist_?

"I half expected you to run after him…" Achilles raspy voice broke through her mental fog.

"Me too," she sighed and then she stretched out her limbs to remove the tension. "But now that I think about it the trek to Johnson Hall is very far, towards Albany, right? I have other engagements and I don't wanna know how long that would take by horse…"

Silence fell between them until Achilles rubbed his cane absentmindedly on the wooden floor.

"What happened?" he promptly asked, rousing a snort from her.

"What do you mean?" Meryl turned around to face Achilles.

"You two are usually inseparable…for the better and for the worse."

She glanced aside, a heaviness settling in her features and she couldn't hide anymore how he affected her.

"He tires me…" she thought she muttered to herself, but Achilles heard her clearly.

The longer his eyes lingered on her the more he felt her sadness and disappointment. He chose not to comment on their situation. He had his suspicion that Connor rebuffed her recently, maybe even today. He sighed. Both were making each other's life unnecessarily difficult.

"So, you are a mercenary organization named "assassins" who are fighting the Templars?"

Achilles snapped his attention back at her with his guard up.

"And Connor's father is the head of the Templars?"

Achilles cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes. He indicated with a cautious face and with his cane to his study room and they moved into the room and sat in front of the unlit fire place.

"You have done your research, Miss Briar."

"Well yeah. You can't hide Connor's suspicious activities, especially the kind where his clothes come back soaked with splatters of blood. So, it seems only fair that you tell your part as you know mine already."

After watching her and her words carefully, he conceded with a sigh.

"What more do you need to know, Miss Briar? You have gathered all missing parts."

"No, I haven't." she interrupted him. "What is Connor's role and that of his tribe in the Templar business."

"We are not certain. They at times act with the British and sometimes they act on their own."

"They are after power then?"

"More or less."

"Then what is that thing about stealing land from the Natives?"

"Miss Briar, both Washington and the British are willing to expand at any cost their influence even if it means stealing land from the Natives."

"Yes, I know my history Achilles, I just don't see why the Templars would give a rat's… about this colony. I never heard about them in America only in European feudal history and stories. What stake do they have in the colonies?"

"I wish I knew, Miss Briar, hence our desire to pursue them."

"Are they with the British then?"

"I believe so."

Meryl leaned back and crossed her arms. She looked in front of her, studying the blackened piece of log.

"Can you prepare a carriage for me for tomorrow?"

"What for?" Achilles responded, genuinely bewildered by the sudden change of topic.

Meryl eyed him.

"You know very well for what, for visiting Mr. Leighton, of course."

"At least wait until Connor returns, Miss Briar."

Meryl shook her head and chuckled.

"No, no, the moment he comes back, it will complicate things more, Achilles. I rather be gone before he comes back."

"I see." He sighed. "I hope you realize that the moment you venture into Master Leighton's abode you will become his potential wife."

Meryl's heart clenched.

"I know that this man will treat me better."

"You are being harsh and unreasonable, Miss Briar." Noted Achilles with mild annoyance. "While I understand that Connor can be thick headed he is still very caring and gentle."

"Until the day he stops judging me and suspecting my every move and words then maybe he might have a chance, but for now I rather be with a man who is actually interested in me."

"Interested? Such hypocrisy! Aren't you upfront with your own feelings?"

Meryl's jaw clenched.

"Wow, me not upfront?" she snorted. "People in this manor don't know me at all! I have been upfront for MONTHS, even you and the rest of this DAMN manor could tell from miles away! And what does he do? He stubbornly holds onto the belief that I am out there to get him!"

"It is part of his duty as assassin to be this way, Miss Briar! You above all should understand what duty entails!"

"A soldier or a warrior cannot be lovers!" she exclaimed.

"So does a fraud."

Meryl stared aghast at Achilles.

"And do you expect to find happiness with Master Leighton when you clearly feel nothing for him?" Achilles countered and ruthlessly. "I never thought of you as someone governed by fear and so desperate for approval and affection, Miss Briar. You will ignore someone whose intentions are pure and clear, why are you afraid?"

Meryl stood up, body trembling and her eyes began to fill with tears.

"You know why." She whispered in a shaky voice, keeping eye contact with Achilles making sure that he saw the anguish in her eyes "Try bearing the knowledge of the present and future on your shoulders! And do so with your arms tied behind your back and your mouth gagged! Because nothing you say or do can alter the course of this Godforsaken country! There will be so much blood shed for centuries to come!"

A sob escaped her lips.

"And," she breathed, heavy tears cascading. "My heart and my mind cannot fall in love with a Native American man whose people and tribes will be driven to near extinction by the White Man in the centuries to come."

Achilles had become rigid and his eyes were wide and in shock.

Meryl ran out of Achilles' study and barricaded herself in her room and sobbed into her pillow until she passed out from exhaustion.

* * *

She opened one eye and then the other. Her room still bathed in darkness. It was before sunrise as she could faintly see a glow from the horizon against the heavy velvet curtains.

It was time for her to leave Davenport manor.

She immediately got up and was about to put on her native American garb when her hand froze in mid-air over the clothes. A heaviness settled in her heart and her hand gravitated for the neutral blue dress, the stay (corset) and stockings.

She found herself standing in front of her vanity with her dress on and her hair tied back into an elaborate bun that she learned from Ingrid. Her knife was safely tucked inside her laced up pouch together with other small essentials such as powder, a few bobby pins and a comb.

She looked at herself from head to toe once more. She barely recognized herself as something about her changed completely. She looked subdued and accepting of the future that lay before her. It was time to play her part well and hopefully it will bring her happiness.

She strode over to the door, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She gazed one last time to her Native garb that lay at the foot of her bed. She felt a painful tug in her heart but she turned away, took a deep breath and left her room.

Meryl strode as quietly as she could along the hallway, down the stairs and grabbed her shawl and wrapped it around her body. She sighed and briefly looked back into the inside of the manor. Memories swirled in her mind, but with pursed lips she moved for the door and exited the manor.

* * *

Hours passed. The Aquila finally docked at the busy harbor in Boston. The seagulls cried, the sails flapped against the early morning breeze, ships of different sizes and shapes creaked and moaned in the docks. The shouts and yells between dock hands, sailors, merchants and captains accompanied the animated scene of one of the largest harbors in the North American colonies. The sailors from the Aquilla shouted for the large hemp ropes to be tossed down to the hardy dock hands below. It had begun to drizzle on the ride and now it rained heavily.

"Thank you for everything, captain Faulkner." Meryl thanked the captain profusely as he helped her walk down the wet loading ramp onto the docks.

"Aye, no worries, Miss Briar, 'tis was a pleasure to accompany you."

She saw the hustle and bustle of the dock hands, sailors, foremen and red coats. Beyond the docks, on the cobbled stones shop keepers began setting up shop outside placing their produce and wares in hopes to allure potential customers. Brick houses lined the dock with their stepped gables with chimneys billowing smoke. Narrow muddy dirt paths snaked between them that was still empty as it was early in the morning.

It was 8 AM after all.

"Miss, shall I have one of my men accompany you to your destination?"

Meryl thought for a moment and suddenly she remembered what Alexander had told her about men having to accompany women. She also remembered how Ingrid was shocked that women were not accompanied by men, it seemed it was a social custom and expectations. So, despite her inner feminist, she took the safe route.

"Why not? I have the address but I am not sure where the house is located." She gladly accepted the offer.

Within a few minutes she was given a young boy of 16, who was named "Tommy-weak legs" as her guide and he was the newbie of Faulkner's crew. He looked pale and gaunt, still getting used to his sea legs.

Faulkner gave the boy a pat on his shoulder.

"Be not afeared of this scrawny lad, he knows Boston like the back of his hand."

The boy chuckled nervously and almost buckled when he had felt the hearty pat of the captain on his shoulder.

"Thanks captain." She said, but as she was about to follow the boy, she turned around and looked at Faulkner. "Captain, can you make sure to let Achilles and the rest that I arrived safely at Master Leighton's home?"

"Of course, missy, anything fer you."

She smiled in his direction and then turned away to follow the teenager off the ramp, onto the docks and beyond.

They snaked their way through almost a maze of streets that were not properly marked. Even though she had been up in 21st century Boston a few times, she had difficulty recognizing it. Some landmarks such as the Old State House and the Faneuil House with its bell on top was the things she recognized but otherwise everything was foreign. She marveled at the simple colonial architect of the red ocher brick buildings. The grander and elaborate they were, the richer their inhabitants appeared and as they went further and further away from the harbor, the class distinction grew wider and noticeable. Even Meryl's 21st century eyes could easily tell apart from the quality of the clothes who was rich, middle class and poor.

She noticed the red coats patrolled the area in groups with their weapons resting on their shoulders bayonets in the air while others stood in strategic areas such as intersections of streets watching carefully or even with boredom the passing citizens. She saw some of the younger and fiery militia catcalling some of the townswomen and she also could not escape their attention, but luckily none of them left their position to harass her.

"We're here, ma'am." The teenager spoke up and they stopped in front of some stairs.

They had arrived in district of Boston that clearly was inhabited by the upper class people as she saw so many lacquered carriages trotting by with women dressed in their finest daywear with hats and all.

Meryl already felt intimidated.

The boy had already reached the stoop and was about to use the brass knocker on the door, but the door swung open and Alexander's stunned but grave face appeared at the doorway. He stood fully dressed and ready to head out, they caught him off guard and probably at a bad timing as he looked preoccupied.

"May I help you?" Alexander uttered and then he looked over the shoulder of the boy and his face lit up. "Miss Briar! You're here so soon?"

He moved passed the boy and leaped down the stoop to stand in front of Meryl. He was dressed in his daily wear which was tamer and neutral in comparison to his usual attires he wears in her presence. He wore muted brown breeches and a dark neutral blue coat. He wore a black three cornered hat with his auburn hair tied together elegantly underneath. His green eyes were awakened and completely changed from a few seconds ago.

"Let's get you out of this ghastly weather and changed into something warm!" he declared and Meryl quickly and without hesitation hooked her arm into his.

He tensed up for a second and then a newfound enthusiasm took over his body and his face, he was beaming making his green eyes glimmer with excitement while also softening them with affection for Meryl. He placed his hand on top of hers that was holding his arm.

It made her heart skip, when she saw that warmth in his eyes.

"I am…utterly relieved and pleased that you are here." He said in earnest as he was looking her intently in the eyes.

She saw the relief in his body language as if the doubt of her coming to him had been burdening him.

"Let's get you in, my love."

Meryl smiled and didn't feel the need to respond back.

He led her into his house, gave the boy a few shillings and closed the door behind them.


End file.
