A Christmas Dinner To Warm Cold Hearts
A Connor Kenway x Reader One-Shot
Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: None
Author’s Note: And we have reached the final one! 25 straight days of Christmas fics! I hope you have enjoyed it everyone! Thank you for following along! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! -Thorne
New York in the middle of winter wasn’t necessarily her favorite place to be, but to set her plans in motion, sacrifices had to be made—even if it meant freezing off her fingers and toes. With a violent shiver, she tugged at the heavy winter coat, digging her hands underneath her arms in an effort to gain some warmth. Though it did little, she felt a bit of relief as she hurried to the street corner, watching as the group of men filed out.
They seemed to still be in a discussion and to avoid their sights, she crept into a conversation between a group of people, eyes directed on the silver haired man. After a few minutes, they dispersed and she smiled as the man started his way down the other side of the street—she waited a moment then followed, hoping she could catch up to him.
She trailed him for what seemed like hours until he turned down an alley. Doing the same, she was met with an empty backstreet, and when she came out at the end, he was nowhere in sight. Her head tipped both ways as she looked for him.
“I swear I just saw him,” she whispered. “Where on earth did he go?”
A frigid bite of metal against her throat answered her question, and as she sucked in a breath, she heard in her ear, “Make any sudden movements and I will slit your throat.”
Recognizing the voice, she swallowed thickly, and knowing the stories of his ruthlessness from Connor, she understood that he would without a single hesitation, slit her throat.
Her lips suddenly felt dry and she licked them, ignoring how they seemed to freeze after. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Mister Kenway.” She murmured, hoping a soft voice would ease his tension.
His free hand dug into her waist. “Oh ho? And trailing me isn’t trouble on your part?”
A chuckle passed her lips and when she tried to turn her neck a bit to see him, he pressed the blade harder to dissuade her.
“I am looking for you, Haytham, but I’m not going to try anything.” Before he could say anything, she said, “My name is (Y/N). Your son and I are in a relationship,” she tipped her head to catch his eye and smiled, “I just want to talk.”
Haytham’s grip slipped as his steel eyes went wide. He searched her gaze for a lie, and seeming to not find one, he retracted the hidden blade and let her go. (Y/N) felt along her neck for a wound but didn’t find one. She turned around and glanced at the man.
“If you don’t mind, could we go somewhere where it isn’t snowing?” she asked and he simply turned on his heel, telling her to follow; she rolled her eyes at how commanding and pompous he looked from behind, but decided to not voice her concerns.
***
About ten minutes they walked, and he held the door to a tavern, gesturing her inside. (Y/N) walked in and instantly sighed as the warm air wrapped her in a hug that resembled Connor’s.
“Go sit in the corner,” Haytham instructed, and it took everything in her to not turn on him and tell him off for giving her orders.
Silently, she conceded and a few moments after she took her seat, he came over and sat across from her, setting two wine glasses on the table. (Y/N) picked hers up by the stem and swirled it before meeting his eyes.
“Surprising for a man who drinks ale in taverns to drink wine right now,” she remarked and took a small sip before smiling. “Mmm, sweet with honey. A good choice.”
Haytham took a sip of his wine before remembering, “You said you and my son were in a relationship?”
(Y/N) cleared her throat and nodded. “We have been for quite some time.” She had to think on it. “Three years, if I’m not mistaken. Though friends for a longer time.”
His eyes narrowed, and she wasn’t sure if it was from suspicion or thought. “How did you two meet?”
Laughing, she scratched at the old wooden table and let her eyes drift towards the doors. “Oh, he saved me from getting torn a new one by regulars some time back.”
A silver brow arched on his forehead as he surmised, “So my son’s lover is a troublemaker?”
(Y/N) felt a rather unladylike snort come from her and she countered, “Oh, not in so many words, and not like you and he do.” She winked at him. “I merely dabble in the pond while you two are sunk to your necks.”
A bark of laughter escaped him, and she felt pride at how she managed to make the almost stoic man grin. He nodded. “Touché, (Y/N).”
They fell into a silence, enjoying their wines, and when they were almost gone, he questioned, “You wished to speak with me about something?”
(Y/N) nodded and sat up straight. “Are you going to busy on Christmas Day?” she asked, and evidently, he hadn’t been expecting that because his eyes went wide.
“I beg your pardon?”
She huffed a laugh. “Christmas Day. Will you be busy?”
Haytham’s eyes narrowed, and this time she knew it was in suspicion. “And you are asking why?” he challenged, and she rolled her eyes.
“Well, I was going to ask you if you’d like to have dinner with the two of us.” (Y/N) reasoned.
As if she’d slapped him across the face, his jaw went slack from shock and he fell into a stillness, her simply staring and waiting for an answer.
When he finally found himself again, a look of pure confusion came over him. “You…are inviting me…to dinner?” he repeated.
“I am,” she answered with a smile.
“…Why?”
(Y/N) inhaled deeply and reclined in her seat, gazing at the back of her hands. “Ratonhnhaké:ton and Achilles aren’t exactly seeing eye to eye now that the two of you are working together,” she explained and with a sad look, she added, “I figured that maybe if the two of you shared a holiday dinner that…well that…” she trailed off and shook her head. “Neverm—”
“No,” Haytham interjected. “Tell me.”
She met his eyes and with a sudden rush of confidence, she said, “I want the two of you to spend at least one night acting like a family.”
His eyes went wide, but (Y/N) didn’t stop. “You both are so rude and disrespectful to each other, and I understand it’s because neither of you know how to act as you’ve both grown without knowing one another, but still,” she stressed, “You are father and son, and even if you are on different sides, it’s the Christmas season and you should be a family.”
Rising from her seat, she yanked out her coin purse and pulled out a single pound and a scrap of paper. “Here,” she pointed out. “For the drink.”
He took them both but raised the paper. “What’s this?”
(Y/N) glanced at him. “Directions to my cottage at the Davenport Homestead.”
“Are you sure it’s wise to give this to me?” Haytham murmured, but she placed her palm flat on the table and got in his face.
“If you send someone after me, he’ll kill them and then you without a second thought,” (Y/N) warned before standing up and continuing, “You’re a bastard, sure, but not that much.” She nodded at the scrap. “Be there by seven…please.”
And she left him without another word.
***
It wasn’t a struggle to keep him away from the door, but it was certainly one to keep him from putting his fingers in the food. For what seemed like the millionth time, she whacked at his hand, but he was much too quick and dodged her, sticking out his tongue.
“Stay out of that, Ratonhnhaké:ton!” she hissed. “It’s not time to eat yet!”
He let his head loll back and sighed. “But Otsi’tsa, I am hungry.”
(Y/N) snorted and shoved at his stomach, nodding at the table before handing him a platter of venison. “Go,” she commanded. “And don’t sneak a piece!”
Connor groaned and did as she asked, but when he set down the plate, he noticed an extra plate. “(Y/N), are we having a guest for dinner?”
She turned around and faced the fireplace, gnawing at her lips as she searched for an answer. “Uh…sort of?” She could hear the confusion in his voice.
“What do you mean ‘sort of’?” he asked, and before she could respond, a knock was at the door.
They turned and she hurried to it before he could, cracking it open slightly. Connor saw the corner of her lip turn up and she opened the door fully, letting the person inside. His amber eyes went wide when his father removed his tricorn and hung it on the coat hanger, his cloak and jacket following.
(Y/N) tossed him a sheepish grin and hesitated, “…Merry Christmas?”
All her lover could manage was, “Why?”
She sighed. “Oh my god, it’s Christmas, you two.”
Haytham scoffed and glared at her. “I showed up, did I not?”
Connor cut her off with a hiss. “I can show you out if you would like.”
“Boys,” she scolded, and at that, they both turned on her with equal looks of disrespect; she rolled her eyes. “Please, let’s just sit at the table and eat dinner.”
Father and son stared one another down for a full minute before taking their seats, and (Y/N) hoped it would remain civil.
***
Surprisingly, dinner did remain fairly civil, only a few moments where she had to soothe Connor’s anger—and kick Haytham in the shin underneath the table, no doubt he’d have bruises in the morning.
They sat by the fireplace, her and Haytham with a mug of cider in their hands, Connor drinking hot chocolate—she had to elbow his father in the side before he could say something that would no doubt set her lover off.
It was a peaceful moment before Connor questioned, “Why did you come, father?”
Her eyes darted to Haytham who simply gazed into the fireplace, the golden glow making his steel eyes shimmer. “Because (Y/N) invited me,” he simply returned.
She let out an exaggerated cough. “Liar.”
Haytham glowered at her and she shifted her eyes between him and Connor. Finally, he sighed and revealed, “I thought…that you and I should spend the holidays together.”
Connor huffed a laugh, sarcastically countering, “What, because we are family?”
His father gazed at him with clear eyes. “Yes.”
It was the most honest she’d ever heard the man be, and even she was as surprised as Connor was, who simply turned meek and looked at the fireplace with a quiet, “Oh.”
(Y/N) watched Haytham stare at his feet as he murmured, “This is the first time in…decades…that I have spent a holiday with…family.” A rare smile came across his lips. “I have…enjoyed it.”
She glanced at Connor and nudged him gently in the side, giving him a smile when he looked at her; after a moment, he sighed and said, “As have I.”
Watching the two give each other truthful and heartful smiles, she stood and announced, “I have final gifts for you two.”
Their eyes followed her curiously as she walked to a shelf and came back with two boxes, one red, the other blue. She handed the red to Haytham and the blue to Connor.
“Here, open them,” she smiled.
Doing so, they ripped the paper and opened the boxes to see a simple ribbon in each box, Haytham’s ribbon red, and Connor’s ribbon blue.
(Y/N) tapped Connor’s and explained, “There’s an inscription on each ribbon. I had them made in Boston a while ago.”
Haytham picked it up and started examining it. “What does it say?”
“It says, ‘You need glasses’,” Connor quipped, and she snorted when his father glared at him, then looked to her and waited.
(Y/N) leaned on her lover’s shoulder and replied, “They both say, ‘True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us.’” She glanced at them. “A testament to the fact that you both know so much about the world and it’s realities, yet you still understand so little.”
She almost laughed at how their faces pinched exactly the same, and she added, “And because I hope that when you wear them, you remember it and make better choices.”
“Who said I make bad choices?” Connor suddenly asked and (Y/N) cocked a brow.
“Uh, the Boston Tea Party?” she hinted, and he scowled.
“There was a purpose in that,” he countered.
“Yes, destroying good tea,” Haytham argued. He sighed and placed the top back on the box, and she stopped Connor before he could say something about his lack of thanks.
He stood to his feet and made his way to the door, starting to dress in his jacket and cloak. (Y/N) handed him his hat and he looked at the two of them.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he said, placing the tricorn atop his head. “I have enjoyed tonight.”
(Y/N) smiled. “Thank you for being here tonight.”
Haytham turned to the door, but as his hand gripped the doorknob, he glanced over his shoulder. “I will be having New Year’s dinner at my home in Virginia, if you two would like to come.”
She nodded. “I would love to.” His gaze shifted to his son.
Connor took a moment, obviously wrestling with himself before he nodded. “Yes…I would like to be there as well.”
His father gave them a rare and true smile before tipping his head. “I shall see you there.”