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In this community, I spam words.

Who: Ziio, Open
When: 06/13 - Evening
Where: The Academy Library - Or in that area of.
What: By way of a fated book, Ziio arrives in Smash Academy. ~~The lesson that we should all stop reading.~~
Warning: N/A

What is this.

The pointed question and the most direct one. Also the one that didn't provide an immediate answer. Naturally, the obvious answer was a sanctuary of books - a library. Not that it explained the situation any better. To go from a village in one moment to a library in another. Some would have held a vision responsible, but the imagery too vivid.

And the moment Ziio ran a forefinger over the spine of a book, it was too obviously real. So this was reality. Some sort of reality. An unexplained kind.

The lack of clarification was irritating at best. But if opening a book had been what brought her there, then it seemed logical that opening another - the right one - would take her back to Kanatahséton. Which eventually led to an ever growing pile of books that Ziio had opened and found disappointment in.

In other words, someone was going to have a lot to clean up later.

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"Please, I'm surprised you even noticed, since I have hardly aged at all," he said, managing to force playful vanity into his tone.

He had often imagined what it would be like standing with her once more. But it did not feel the same as he expected, he was not quite over the shock. How could he be, after so many years of separation?

Yet her presence was comforting, just knowing she was alive and unhurt. There would be a better chance for her now. He wished he could stay by her, but he doubted she would ever forgive him. He could only wait for her to order him to leave once more.

He stalled with a question.

"How much do you know? If not the incident, what do you remember?"

What was worse, that she almost smiled at his reply, or that she didn't absolutely hate him in that moment? It was almost as if it was a taste of how things could have been. But that was as cruel as the hand reality had dealt thus far with putting them in such close proximity with one another. The thought of those days, those 'what if's was painful. It wasn't something she could entertain for long.

She had no immediate response for him, but toyed with the idea of simply telling him she'd had enough of his company. He continued along, however, and prevented her from doing any such thing. And she did think it a possibility that it was all a part of his plan.

"I remember enough," were her initial words. "Telling you to leave." Watching you leave. Questioning if what I'd done was right. Knowing I had no other choice. And there was Connor, which made her eye Haytham oddly, for she'd not been so open with him regarding his son. Seemed little point in pretending that didn't happen. She already knew.

"My son," she continued. "A few years with him."

"I did not intend to encounter you again." The circumstances here had just surprised him. It would not have felt right to turn and leave when he already had her in his sights.

Ah, that other old hurt. That she had bore him a son yet never told him; he had to find out on his own decades later. Did she really think he did not want a son? Or had she known, but hid his existence anyway? How different would have everything turned out, had he known? Would deaths have been prevented? Would his relationship with his son have gone differently?

"Connor is here as well," he supplied, not knowing that she had already met him or that she hadn't given him that name. "...He has grown well."

Edited 2013-06-15 13:22 (UTC)

The circumstances behind Connor's conception and birth were a type of complicated that Ziio had not wanted to bring up. She'd not believed that any such thing would have turned Haytham from his path. But perhaps she would have been wrong. The past was the past, however, and she could not go back to do it another way just to see the consequence.

The Haytham before her, however, already knew of his son. They'd spent 'ample' - or whatever Ziio considered was 'ample' - time together. Doing what, she had not the faintest idea, but she imagined it was no joyous father and son routine outing.

"I'm aw--" Ziio interjected herself and her eyebrows furrowed as she eyed Haytham. "Connor?" The very same 'Connor' who had been mentioned to her twice. Jon and Shadow had both said it. "Why do you call him that? Why is it the people here call him that?"

She might have been minutely irritated by that discovery.

He gave her a startled look, not quite sure what to make of her reaction. "Connor? Because it's his name, or at least what he's been going by all this time."

And what reason did he have to suspect that Connor had a different name? The hard truth was that he scarcely knew his son at all. The boy had reached full-growth without his father even knowing he existed, had conveyed past traumas and an orphan's bitterness that Haytham could not have been aware of. He supposed that the broken old Assassin Davenport was the only person who might have offered some real semblance of fatherhood in Connor's life, but he was not much aware of those details either.

"That isn't his name."

And she knew that sounded harsh. Or perhaps it was because she didn't know that was the name he'd chosen. Why? Was it somehow better suited to him? Something to do with what he'd gotten himself into, perhaps? She doubted she should be calling her son's devotion to his people into question. It just couldn't be that.

When she realised how tense she grew, how she even thought to lash out at Haytham for something he didn't seem to know the better of, she took a step back, slipped her right foot behind her left. As if she'd meant to run, which once more she entertained.

"But if it's what he wishes to be called, then it will be so."

He sighed again, holding up his hands in exasperated surrender. "Sorry, I was never informed. That is not what you named him?"

He detected her movement, like she was coiled to flee at any second. He frowned, knowing he was about to lose her again. What words could he say to convince her that she did not need to push him away? In more than two decades he still did not have the answer to that. Ziio was not like others... not like the sheep so easy to control. Of course, that was part of why he had loved her.

She shook her head, once more paused by his questioning. It seemed to be the only thing that really worked to keep her in his midst.

A part of her had wanted to stay. To see what could be said or done. To find some form of closure - if even that. But it was very painful to see him, much less to speak with him. And to think in spite of all that had happened, he still seemed to want her companionship.

Yet it was never him saying he wanted to go. It was always her telling him to leave.

"It isn't what I call him," Ziio admitted. "It seems to be the name he has chosen. He can be called as he wishes to be." But she would still call him by his given name. It was the only way she could address him. His name meant so much, after all, and was such a symbol of his strength and history.

He thought about asking her what that name was, but gave that line of inquiry up. He figured there was little chance of him being able to pronounce it... he always left matters of Kanien'kehá:ka language up to William Johnson and never adapted his tongue to the words, even in his short weeks with Ziio.

"Have you met him here yet?" he wondered. Knowing that much would help him figure out what issues to avoid discussing. He doubted Connor had anything pleasant to say about him.

The more he asked, the more Ziio began to question herself as to why she'd even answer. If he had a plan, which she was sure he did, then he was pulling it off, and she was letting him. Out of vain hopes? Yes. Perhaps. She couldn't even tell for sure.

"Yes." The answer was concise and direct. "He didn't say much. He said what he needed to, and what he needed for me to know." Then she found her posture relaxing - if it could even be called that - as she motioned to Haytham. "He said you were here. That you two are aware of each other."

"I see." Except he knew no details. He had some bitter things to say about Connor, but he doubted Ziio would appreciate that. But he had a few kinder observations to say, too.

He lowered his head a bit in thought, returning his hands to their idle position behind his back.

"He grew up noble and strong. You must be proud."

Because he was proud of Connor as well. In a way.

"I am," was her strong reply. Then after a pause, she felt a degree of unease. "I'm not accustomed to seeing him older. Wiser. My son was young when I arrived here."

This Ratonhnhaké:ton is different. My feelings around him are conflicting. I am still his mother, but I am that too late. It's difficult to be faced with him, knowing what he must have endured.

Then she corrected herself. "...Our son." Because she couldn't take credit for all of it. She hadn't yet determined if Connor had taken Haytham's darker ambitions, but Ziio didn't think so. "Do you see much of yourself in him?" It was a surprisingly honest inquiry of her part, one that left her with an expectant look directed to her former lover.

He could not comment on what she had missed in the boy's life. He hadn't been there for it either. Something the two of them now had in common...

He nodded his head slightly and thought it over before looking back at Ziio.

"I see a lot of you in him. And I see definitive traits from the Kenway line... otherwise I might not have believe it when I discovered him. He has great conviction in his beliefs... extraordinarily stubborn, really. There is still much for him to learn. But he is also brave, and though not yet as skilled as I am, he has admirable strength."

She listened to him very carefully and it was the first time in their reunion that Ziio had placed her undivided attention onto him - where one gauging the other was not involved. It was also the first time she didn't feel like turning her back to him and sending him away once more.

Like it or not on her part, Connor was what drew them together, it seemed.

Ziio didn't really notice it, but she'd begun to smile - in that vague fashion - as Haytham continued with his observations. Connor's stubbornness, a trait he had from both sides. Potential, it seemed. And there was something... oddly heart-warming about the way Haytham was praising what they had created.

But could it have been a trap...?

"I was not expecting to hear it, but it sounds as if you're proud also." Simply said, far more expressive than she'd expected it to be, and yet sincere and earnest.

"Yes, well... though he has a long ways to go, he has those qualities," Haytham returned.

He became distracted by that beautiful little hint of a smile, no doubt because of their current topic. Certainly she hadn't heard yet about the fight to the death, or they certainly wouldn't be standing there talking so casually. He hoped that knowledge stayed far from her.

"I am, although astonished beyond measure, greatly relieved to see you alive and well, Ziio. Whatever else you may think of me, at least know that."

He respected her enough that his wish to change the past and be with her was disproportionate to the relief at simply seeing her saved from a gruesome end. But in the back of his mind he wondered if this miracle could potentially soften Connor into a more forgiving mood, if his mother's death no longer haunted him.

Greatly relieved to see her alive and well, he said. She wasn't expecting those words. Or the kindness that came from behind them, because she knew well enough he stood nothing to gain by saying such things to her. Which meant if he was saying them, he meant them.

To be honest, she couldn't remember a time that Haytham had ever said something to her - or around her - that wasn't exactly what he was trying to convey. To some degree, in the way she held him in the secret stash of her heart, he must have done the same. The difference was that he was willing to be more open about them.

The man had no shame, and why should he? What did he have to lose?

"I hear your words," she acknowledged him with a slow nod. One day, maybe I will be able to say them back to you. "And I assure you that I'm certainly here." Looking aside momentarily, she continued, "I don't doubt that we'll see each other again."

At least until she found the village again. Provided she did.

"Yes. It may be inevitable that we run into one another when we see Connor," he said, carefully keeping his tone casual.

He raised a brow, waiting to see if she would press her insistence that he remain far from her... or if bringing their son into it was a mistake. She had gone as far to hide her pregnancy from him, he was not sure if she still intended on keeping their son from him now that he was a grown and capable man.

For many moments she said nothing. Then whatever warmth she'd begun to feel had managed to slip away.

"Stay away from my son."

If that wasn't answer enough for his unspoken questions, there probably wasn't anything more direct about it. And no matter what the case might have been, Haytham had crossed a line. Connor could act on his own, no doubt, but only when she had succumbed to her fate could Ziio allow the possibility of Haytham's influence in her child's life.

No matter how old said 'child' had grown to be.

Haytham's hands clenched behind his back. He was not expecting such an abrupt forbiddance, and for a moment he was unable to articulate words, only frown.

"The boy and I have too much unfinished business for me to cut him off now. He has not told me himself to stay back, so I intend to do no such thing."

...At least, Connor hasn't told him off lately. Connor had warned him off in the strictest of terms after the confrontation with Washington, and Haytham had compliantly kept away from his son for roughly three years after that, until the necessity of protecting Charles brought them together for their finality. The tragedy of it was how close they had come to tying off their bond, but Haytham had pushed a little too hard, schemed a little too much.

Now that Connor allowed him near, and now that Connor did not need to die, he was not about to turn heel if he could help it.

"You'll do so because I'm telling you to."

It was firm and it was hard. She didn't feel she needed to tell him why as frankly, Haytham didn't need to know. It wasn't his place. She didn't particularly care what kind of unfinished business they had. She was already steps into anger when Connor had so confidently told her that he knew who his father was.

In other words, Ziio held a grudge, and not one that was unwarranted. Anything Haytham could want with him couldn't be good and he was nothing short of a storm waiting to be loosed. And when that happened, because she knew it would, it wouldn't be anywhere near her or Connor. Not if she had anything to do with it.

"I won't tolerate you around him," she continued, warning with her eyes, for she felt her tone could only participate in half the battle. "I will stand where I must if it'll keep you at bay."

"Gods, Ziio, be reasonable," he plead. "He is my son. I have no intention of harming him. Only teaching him many things he lacks and aiding one another when we have the same goals."

He spoke quickly in his attempt to convince, feeling himself on the defensive. He was caught in a bad spot. As soon as Ziio appeared, he was likely to immediately lose her, or his son, or both.

"Reasonable," she parroted. "Reasonable. What entertaining words from such a reasonable man."

She could feel the fire swell in her very heart. "You have no right to call him your son. Be that he is or not. Your place is not as his father. You have no position to be instructing him on anything." Defensive. It was all purely defensive. A mother wolf protecting her young, baring her metaphorical teeth, prepared to snap if she needed to.

"The only thing you can teach him is deception and I will die before I allow you that opportunity." Connor was no young child. He could handle himself and Ziio knew it, but with eyes that could only see him as the four year old she had left behind, she couldn't deny that she felt her own insecurities over his well being arise once more.

And perhaps a chunk of it was spite for what Haytham had done to her. A cruel, but necessary tactic.

"He's far too honest and hardheaded to be taught deception, believe me," he muttered. "But there are many truths he has yet to learn. I would see he understands these truths before he irreparably damages the very future he tries to save."

Her anger hurt, and angering her after impossibly getting her back was the last thing he wanted to do, but Haytham felt frustration boil as well. He barely knew his son at all, but now she barely knew him either. To let him go now would be to release all the potential and plans he had invested, leaving Haytham with no advantages whatsoever. He had no connections, no Templar allies, no power. He was a Grandmaster who once secretly had the entirety of the British American colonies within his grasp and now did not have a single holding. Only a son whom shared similar enough aspirations of peace that perhaps he could be made to understand.

It was minutely insulting to hear him. And she almost bit. Almost. "If he is hardheaded, then it'd be something you two had in common." Which was virtually her way of admitting that trying to argue with Haytham would get the opposite side nowhere.

Haytham would do things as he saw fit. And if that was the case...

She drew up her right hand, as if to make her point and nothing further, for though she remained in arm's length of him, she made no intent to touch him. "Try as you'd like," she began calmly, her eyes attentively upon him. "I already know that you will, but know that I will stop you where I feel it is necessary."

"Ziio--"

A mother wolf indeed, poised to rip apart any threat that went near her young. Haytham had no aspiration to get anywhere close to a physical altercation with her.

His frustration ebbed as he understood that he had lost. There was no way he could push Ziio so far that she would attack him in desperation to keep him away. He had made the mistake of pushing too hard, and now had nothing. Whatever progress he might have made would have been destroyed anyway the moment she would likely learn of his attempt to kill Connor. And Connor would surely take his long-lost mother's side.

"Have it your way. I will not approach either of you," he relented quietly.

In this community, I spam words.

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fell asleep while writing this tag last night ._.

Awbuu. You are so cute. Next time I will tuck you in. ♥

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