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Description
Assassin’s Creed III Fanfiction
Made a Pass
started 11/4/13
The voyage overseas was one that Amelia Burch would not want to relive again. Granted, she thought herself more as a big girl who didn’t care much for dresses and things of the like. But, even still, being stuck on a cramped boat for that long, spending the majority of the time under the deck because of the storms, it was not something she yearned to do again.
It did not help that the young English Assassin discovered that her stomach was not one for sea-faring outings.
Even now they were stuck in the midst of a storm, the rogue waves and winds buffeting the boat back and forth in a haphazard sort of rhythm. She winced at the sound of water slamming against the hull, curling farther into the crook of her twin brother’s arm below deck with the other passengers.
“We’re safe as can be, Mia.” He murmured reassuringly to her, tightening his hold on her all the same.
“Remind me never to step foot on a boat again, Hammy.” She whispered back, her fingers grasping at his arms as the boat rocked and swayed.
Abraham Burch laughed softly, his face hidden in the shadows of his charcoal gray hood.
“How do you plan to return home then, sister dearest?” He challenged, glancing down at her to only see the top of her auburn-haired head.
Amelia paused, partly because the boat felt like it was going to flip right under feet and then because the question honestly baffled her a bit. Waiting for the boat to come under some kind of control, Amelia turned in her brother’s hold to peer at him from the depths of his hood.
“Is England really still home, Abraham?” She asked seriously, the use of his full name accenting it.
“Whatever do you mean?” He questioned back, just as confused. “Amelia, England will always be our home.”
“So, you want to go back when we’re done here?”
Her brother’s silence was answer enough. Amelia flicked back his hood with her fingers, wanting to see what expression her stoic brother wore. He blinked in surprise as his hood fell back, revealing his pale blue eyes and the free wisps of his sandy hair that were pulled free from his ponytail. He was the spitting imagine of their father, and every now and then Amelia would have to close her eyes to remind herself that this was her brother.
She did so now, trying to push those suppressed memories of their drunken, slightly senseless father away. It didn’t take long; they were already hidden pretty well.
“Mia?”
“I’m fine,” His sister said, opening her jade green eyes to meet his worried gaze. “Truly. But, really, Hammy. You’re not really considering going back, are you?”
He shrugged, both stiffening unconsciously as the storm outside tossed the boat around. Amelia practically threw herself back into her brother’s awaiting arms, squeezing him tight till the roar passed.
“Amelia, we don’t even know if the New World is all it’s cracked up to be.” He answered when the sounds of the sea died down enough. “But, we can decide this after our mission, alright?”
“Yes, yes, with that Native man.” She furrowed her brow, trying to recall the details their Master gave them. “What was his name, again? Something that I had so much trouble pronouncing…”
“It started with an ‘R’, if I remember correctly.” Abraham offered. “I sure hope he’s not some uncivilized brute that will scalp us if we look at him wrong.”
“That’s quite rude.” His sister muttered, slapping him softly in the chest as punishment. “I’m sure he’s quite civilized.”
Before Abraham could defend himself, another giant wave crashed into the boat, causing the entire construct to tilt precariously to one side. Amelia released a wail, her cry joining with the few others that called out as the boat tottered. Abraham wrapped his strong arms securely around his sister’s small form, bracing them against the wall while the boat slammed back to the ocean’s choppy surface.
“Knock me out till we get there, please.” Amelia begged as the storm raged on.
***
It was still another couple of weeks till they arrived, but when Amelia heard the lookout cry, “Land, ho!” she practically flew up the deck to see for herself. She ungracefully stumbled up the ramp to the deck, the sudden bright light of the sun causing her to stagger slightly. It had been quite a long time since she saw the sun. It made her smile, the blinding light warming her instantly.
“Hammy, come on!” She called behind her, stepping into the pandemonium taking place on the deck as the crew prepped for landing. “I had forgotten how beautiful the sun is!”
Her brother was close behind her, his hood up while he clambered up into the sun. With a disapproving snort, Amelia tossed back his hood. Her brother cried out, the light blinding him just as it did her.
“Amelia, honestly!” He shouted harshly, grabbing the fabric of his hood and yanking it back over his head protectively. “I need time to adjust-”
“Look.” His sister breathed, ignoring her brother’s complaints to glide to the edge of the deck.
Her bright eyes were entranced by the sight of the New World that lay ahead, the docks holding a couple small vessels and one other giant ship. Not far from the docks, Mia could see the land dotted with houses, and farther inland she could just make out the shadows of a bustling colony. It was so entrancing that she was able to ignore the constant movement of the ship under her that usually caused sickness.
“Abraham…”
“I know, sister.” He murmured next to her, his hood now thrown back as he, too, took in the sight. “It’s breathtakingly beautiful.”
The two Assassins lingered there, pressed right along the railing as they came closer to shore. It wasn’t until the anchor was dropped that Amelia noticed a figure in the trees. She leaned forward, squinting her eyes to focus. Amelia half turned to her brother to point it out, but Abraham was already heading towards the ramp that led down from the boat to the docks.
“Hammy!” Amelia cried, dashing after him to follow him down. “I saw someone in the trees.” She glanced back, only to see that the figure was gone from his sanctuary of trees and now-
“Excuse me.”
Both startled by the new voice, the twins turned and had their hidden blades halfway unsheathed from the mechanisms on their forearms. They both immediately realized who this person was, though. And it appeared that he wasn’t all that threatened, anyhow.
It was their Native American contact, a young man of probably about twenty-three or so. He wore typical Assassin attire, although it was clear that he took inspiration from his native land and heritage. He, too, had the usual arsenal of weapons, though Amelia was slightly impressed to see a bow poking over the crest of his broad shoulder. Not to mention the tomahawk that hung on his hip.
Broad was a good term for this Assassin, Amelia figured. His chest was round, swollen with muscles. And she was sure that his stomach was flat and toned, although it was hard to tell under all the gear. It was then that she actually looked him in the face, and Amelia was struck into silence at what she saw.
“Ah, you must be our contact, then?” Abraham ventured, sheathing his blade to outstretch his hand in greeting. “I am Abraham Burch, and this is my sister, Amelia.” He looked over at his sister, pausing expectantly while he waited for her to correct him; she despised being introduced as “Amelia”.
But, his sister was far too distracted to even take notice. Those big, chocolate brown eyes that the Assassin had were taking up all her attention. Never before had she been so entranced so easily by the mere sight of a man’s eyes. It usually went the other way around.
Good heavens…
“Mia.” Her brother huffed, nudging her roughly with his arm when he realized what she was doing. “It’s rude to stare.”
“It’s rude to do a lot of things, Hammy.” She snapped back, not taking her eyes away from the Native Assassin. “Staring is not one of them; our friend here should be honored that my emerald eyes are gracing him as such.”
“Good Lord,” Abraham muttered. “I apologize for my sister’s, ahem, bluntness-”
“Oh, please, Abraham.” Amelia managed to glance away from the Assassin to roll her eyes at her brother. “You were the one who was all worried that he’d, what was it? Scalp us like the uncivilized brute he is-?”
“Amelia!”
The Assassin watched with intense curiosity, as well as a feeling of awkward helplessness, as the twins bantered back and forth for quite some time. It had appeared that they have forgotten about his presence entirely. The words they both said did not offend him; he was past the petty insults and assumptions as well as the rather forward observations of the white folk. But, there were more important words that needed to be exchanged.
The Native politely cleared his throat. Then again. And one more time before he finally began shouting himself. Unlike the two English Assassins, though, he was yelling nonsense in his own native tongue. He only needed to shout a couple words before the twins finally stopped. They blinked, surprise apparent in their fair features as they looked to the Native.
“My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton.” The Assassin told them.
“Ah!” exclaimed Abraham, turning to his sister. “I told you it started with an ‘r’!”
“I never doubted you.” Amelia snarled irritably before turning back to gaze at the Native flirtatiously. “Could you be an absolute dear and run that name by us again? Lovely pronunciation, but-”
“Call me Connor,” He interrupted, giving a half-smile. “Most of you white people cannot speak in my native tongue.”
“Very well, Connor it is!” Mia flashed a smile at him, thrusting her hand out for a handshake which he hesitantly took. “Amelia Burch, at your service,” She tugged at his hand, startling him enough to cause him to stumble forward so their chests were touching. “But, please, call me Mia. And do not be afraid to ask me of anything.”
She winked up at him, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest. She hoped he didn’t feel it. Connor, who was quite obviously uncomfortable, gave a hesitant nod before politely removing his hand and taking a subtle step back. Abraham gave his sister a stern look before introducing himself.
“I apologize for my sister’s forwardness.” Abraham said as the two men shook hands. “I am Abraham Burch. Our Master in London sent us here, heard you could use some assistance in setting up an Order here?”
“Order is a strong word,” Connor replied uneasily, crossing his strong arms so as to not touch the twins again. “At least, for now. I could use the extra sets of hands, though.”
“Your English is impressive.” Amelia stepped in, shouldering past her brother roughly. “I can barely pick up on your accent. Not that it isn’t lovely, it is indeed.”
Connor only frowned, half turning away to gesture towards the forest as Abraham reprimanded his sister again.
“Yes, well, if you follow me, I’ll take you back to the homestead. We can start preparations there.”
Without waiting for them to respond, Connor turned and trudged into the brush. Amelia followed immediately, literally skipping after the Native Assassin. Abraham had no other choice but to follow. Rolling his eyes and cursing his Master silently, he flicked up his hood and went after the two of them.

Description
Assassin’s Creed III Fanfiction
Made a Pass
started 11/4/13
The voyage overseas was one that Amelia Burch would not want to relive again. Granted, she thought herself more as a big girl who didn’t care much for dresses and things of the like. But, even still, being stuck on a cramped boat for that long, spending the majority of the time under the deck because of the storms, it was not something she yearned to do again.
It did not help that the young English Assassin discovered that her stomach was not one for sea-faring outings.
Even now they were stuck in the midst of a storm, the rogue waves and winds buffeting the boat back and forth in a haphazard sort of rhythm. She winced at the sound of water slamming against the hull, curling farther into the crook of her twin brother’s arm below deck with the other passengers.
“We’re safe as can be, Mia.” He murmured reassuringly to her, tightening his hold on her all the same.
“Remind me never to step foot on a boat again, Hammy.” She whispered back, her fingers grasping at his arms as the boat rocked and swayed.
Abraham Burch laughed softly, his face hidden in the shadows of his charcoal gray hood.
“How do you plan to return home then, sister dearest?” He challenged, glancing down at her to only see the top of her auburn-haired head.
Amelia paused, partly because the boat felt like it was going to flip right under feet and then because the question honestly baffled her a bit. Waiting for the boat to come under some kind of control, Amelia turned in her brother’s hold to peer at him from the depths of his hood.
“Is England really still home, Abraham?” She asked seriously, the use of his full name accenting it.
“Whatever do you mean?” He questioned back, just as confused. “Amelia, England will always be our home.”
“So, you want to go back when we’re done here?”
Her brother’s silence was answer enough. Amelia flicked back his hood with her fingers, wanting to see what expression her stoic brother wore. He blinked in surprise as his hood fell back, revealing his pale blue eyes and the free wisps of his sandy hair that were pulled free from his ponytail. He was the spitting imagine of their father, and every now and then Amelia would have to close her eyes to remind herself that this was her brother.
She did so now, trying to push those suppressed memories of their drunken, slightly senseless father away. It didn’t take long; they were already hidden pretty well.
“Mia?”
“I’m fine,” His sister said, opening her jade green eyes to meet his worried gaze. “Truly. But, really, Hammy. You’re not really considering going back, are you?”
He shrugged, both stiffening unconsciously as the storm outside tossed the boat around. Amelia practically threw herself back into her brother’s awaiting arms, squeezing him tight till the roar passed.
“Amelia, we don’t even know if the New World is all it’s cracked up to be.” He answered when the sounds of the sea died down enough. “But, we can decide this after our mission, alright?”
“Yes, yes, with that Native man.” She furrowed her brow, trying to recall the details their Master gave them. “What was his name, again? Something that I had so much trouble pronouncing…”
“It started with an ‘R’, if I remember correctly.” Abraham offered. “I sure hope he’s not some uncivilized brute that will scalp us if we look at him wrong.”
“That’s quite rude.” His sister muttered, slapping him softly in the chest as punishment. “I’m sure he’s quite civilized.”
Before Abraham could defend himself, another giant wave crashed into the boat, causing the entire construct to tilt precariously to one side. Amelia released a wail, her cry joining with the few others that called out as the boat tottered. Abraham wrapped his strong arms securely around his sister’s small form, bracing them against the wall while the boat slammed back to the ocean’s choppy surface.
“Knock me out till we get there, please.” Amelia begged as the storm raged on.
***
It was still another couple of weeks till they arrived, but when Amelia heard the lookout cry, “Land, ho!” she practically flew up the deck to see for herself. She ungracefully stumbled up the ramp to the deck, the sudden bright light of the sun causing her to stagger slightly. It had been quite a long time since she saw the sun. It made her smile, the blinding light warming her instantly.
“Hammy, come on!” She called behind her, stepping into the pandemonium taking place on the deck as the crew prepped for landing. “I had forgotten how beautiful the sun is!”
Her brother was close behind her, his hood up while he clambered up into the sun. With a disapproving snort, Amelia tossed back his hood. Her brother cried out, the light blinding him just as it did her.
“Amelia, honestly!” He shouted harshly, grabbing the fabric of his hood and yanking it back over his head protectively. “I need time to adjust-”
“Look.” His sister breathed, ignoring her brother’s complaints to glide to the edge of the deck.
Her bright eyes were entranced by the sight of the New World that lay ahead, the docks holding a couple small vessels and one other giant ship. Not far from the docks, Mia could see the land dotted with houses, and farther inland she could just make out the shadows of a bustling colony. It was so entrancing that she was able to ignore the constant movement of the ship under her that usually caused sickness.
“Abraham…”
“I know, sister.” He murmured next to her, his hood now thrown back as he, too, took in the sight. “It’s breathtakingly beautiful.”
The two Assassins lingered there, pressed right along the railing as they came closer to shore. It wasn’t until the anchor was dropped that Amelia noticed a figure in the trees. She leaned forward, squinting her eyes to focus. Amelia half turned to her brother to point it out, but Abraham was already heading towards the ramp that led down from the boat to the docks.
“Hammy!” Amelia cried, dashing after him to follow him down. “I saw someone in the trees.” She glanced back, only to see that the figure was gone from his sanctuary of trees and now-
“Excuse me.”
Both startled by the new voice, the twins turned and had their hidden blades halfway unsheathed from the mechanisms on their forearms. They both immediately realized who this person was, though. And it appeared that he wasn’t all that threatened, anyhow.
It was their Native American contact, a young man of probably about twenty-three or so. He wore typical Assassin attire, although it was clear that he took inspiration from his native land and heritage. He, too, had the usual arsenal of weapons, though Amelia was slightly impressed to see a bow poking over the crest of his broad shoulder. Not to mention the tomahawk that hung on his hip.
Broad was a good term for this Assassin, Amelia figured. His chest was round, swollen with muscles. And she was sure that his stomach was flat and toned, although it was hard to tell under all the gear. It was then that she actually looked him in the face, and Amelia was struck into silence at what she saw.
“Ah, you must be our contact, then?” Abraham ventured, sheathing his blade to outstretch his hand in greeting. “I am Abraham Burch, and this is my sister, Amelia.” He looked over at his sister, pausing expectantly while he waited for her to correct him; she despised being introduced as “Amelia”.
But, his sister was far too distracted to even take notice. Those big, chocolate brown eyes that the Assassin had were taking up all her attention. Never before had she been so entranced so easily by the mere sight of a man’s eyes. It usually went the other way around.
Good heavens…
“Mia.” Her brother huffed, nudging her roughly with his arm when he realized what she was doing. “It’s rude to stare.”
“It’s rude to do a lot of things, Hammy.” She snapped back, not taking her eyes away from the Native Assassin. “Staring is not one of them; our friend here should be honored that my emerald eyes are gracing him as such.”
“Good Lord,” Abraham muttered. “I apologize for my sister’s, ahem, bluntness-”
“Oh, please, Abraham.” Amelia managed to glance away from the Assassin to roll her eyes at her brother. “You were the one who was all worried that he’d, what was it? Scalp us like the uncivilized brute he is-?”
“Amelia!”
The Assassin watched with intense curiosity, as well as a feeling of awkward helplessness, as the twins bantered back and forth for quite some time. It had appeared that they have forgotten about his presence entirely. The words they both said did not offend him; he was past the petty insults and assumptions as well as the rather forward observations of the white folk. But, there were more important words that needed to be exchanged.
The Native politely cleared his throat. Then again. And one more time before he finally began shouting himself. Unlike the two English Assassins, though, he was yelling nonsense in his own native tongue. He only needed to shout a couple words before the twins finally stopped. They blinked, surprise apparent in their fair features as they looked to the Native.
“My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton.” The Assassin told them.
“Ah!” exclaimed Abraham, turning to his sister. “I told you it started with an ‘r’!”
“I never doubted you.” Amelia snarled irritably before turning back to gaze at the Native flirtatiously. “Could you be an absolute dear and run that name by us again? Lovely pronunciation, but-”
“Call me Connor,” He interrupted, giving a half-smile. “Most of you white people cannot speak in my native tongue.”
“Very well, Connor it is!” Mia flashed a smile at him, thrusting her hand out for a handshake which he hesitantly took. “Amelia Burch, at your service,” She tugged at his hand, startling him enough to cause him to stumble forward so their chests were touching. “But, please, call me Mia. And do not be afraid to ask me of anything.”
She winked up at him, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest. She hoped he didn’t feel it. Connor, who was quite obviously uncomfortable, gave a hesitant nod before politely removing his hand and taking a subtle step back. Abraham gave his sister a stern look before introducing himself.
“I apologize for my sister’s forwardness.” Abraham said as the two men shook hands. “I am Abraham Burch. Our Master in London sent us here, heard you could use some assistance in setting up an Order here?”
“Order is a strong word,” Connor replied uneasily, crossing his strong arms so as to not touch the twins again. “At least, for now. I could use the extra sets of hands, though.”
“Your English is impressive.” Amelia stepped in, shouldering past her brother roughly. “I can barely pick up on your accent. Not that it isn’t lovely, it is indeed.”
Connor only frowned, half turning away to gesture towards the forest as Abraham reprimanded his sister again.
“Yes, well, if you follow me, I’ll take you back to the homestead. We can start preparations there.”
Without waiting for them to respond, Connor turned and trudged into the brush. Amelia followed immediately, literally skipping after the Native Assassin. Abraham had no other choice but to follow. Rolling his eyes and cursing his Master silently, he flicked up his hood and went after the two of them.