The little baby had Connor’s skin, freckles and eyes, but her lips and nose were totally Y/N’s. She kissed her forehead as she finished to comb the little one’s silky black hair. Every night she awoke with the baby crying and her eyes were heavy as she put the little girl in a white sweater. She was so tired…With Connor on a mission for some months and her nights increasingly sleepless. Well, maybe she was having some trouble with the girl.
And all the miss she had of Connor? Her eyes were almost closing now, tinking about his warmth or his sweet temperament. With her mind clouded by fatigue, she did not even hear the Native hit softly the door and announce his arrival. She jumped a little in his place in the chair when he felt a large hand on her shoulder. Looking away to its owner, she smiled.
“You scared me!” She hissed.
“Hello to you as well, dear.” He kissed his wife, chuckled softly and took the little infant from her lap the he tossed her into the air, making her laugh and Connor kissed her forehead. Complaining in pain moments later as hands pushed his braid and his Little One played with his hair.
“I have some meat, what do you want for dinner?” Connor redbourn the little fingers of his daughter away from his black hair, never taking away his warm chocolate eyes from Y/N´s as the girl started to play with his cheeks, her sharp laughter echoing throughout the house.
“I am sorry, Connor, but I need some rest now.” She stretched, smiling at the sight and kissed the native again on the lips. Then giving a good night kiss on her, going up to the room she shared with the assassin. His eyes widened when he saw the mess in the room downstairs, with dolls on the floor and some children’s books. He took care of the girl with a smile dorky all the time.
How this small creature could make such a mess?
A few hours later she awoke with the native´s voice. A gentle hum that led the woman to follow the sound to the baby´s room and stand at the door quietly, admiring the muscles of his back silently until Connor put his Little One in the cradle.
She smiled sleppy and asked in a whisper:
“What you’re singing?”
Y/N had never heard him sing before, the native had a blush on the cheeks -happilly- she did not see it because of low lighting.
“A song that my people mother sang for me… I completely forgot the lyrics.”
He looked back at the crib, making sure she had slept, Y/N pulled him into a tight hug and yawned.
“I love your voice, dear, I missed you…Let’s get some rest. At least until she is awoke again…”
Stephane:Mon père (My dad). He was a great man. A cook in the French Army during the Seven Years War. He marched all across the white North, feeding Louis-Joseph de Montcalm and his officers. Cooking them feasts from sticks and berries. When the Commander-in-Chief opted for open conflict instead of manning the battlements of Quebec, every man was called to arms, including my father. He died on the field. But I’m told he fought ferociously. It matters little. He’s gone now.
Connor: He would be proud of you.
Stephane: This is my one hope – that he smiles upon the choices I’ve made.
Happy Canada Day to our friendly northern neighbor!